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THE
MINOR
PLEASURES
OF LIFE
Selected
by
ROSE MACAULAY
LONDON
VICTOR GOLLANCZ LTD
Covent Garden
First published Octooer 1934
Second impression November raz
'Tis most undoubtedly true, that all men are equally
given to their pleasure, only thus, one mans pleasure lyes
one way, and anothers another. Pleasures are all alike,
simply considered in themselves, he that hunts, or he
that governs the Commonwealth, they both please them-
selves alike, he that takes pleasure to hear Sermons, enjoys
himself as much as he that hears Plays.
Whilst you are upon Earth, enjoy the good things that
are here (to that end were they given) and be not melan-
cholly, and wish yourself in Heaven.
JOHN SELDEN
There should be a joyous vget of elegant extracts —
a Literatura Hilaris or Gaudens.
LEIGH HUNT
PREFACE
I feel that a few apologies to readers should precede this
book, which has been so laboriously charming to com-
pile, and which seems to me, now I look through it,
slimmed though it is of much that I hoped it would con-
tain, to be so full of agreeable reading. First, then, there
may be those who will seek in it in vain their own favourite
pleasures, and will perhaps find some things that are not
to them pleasures at all, such as gossip, football, chess,
sprunking, catching animals, taking umbrage, or what not.
I must refer them to my motto from Selden — one man's
pleasure lies one way, another's another. There is here
no pleasure which I have not either observed, or read,
to be such to some of mankind, though not all are so
to me. Secondly, there may be those who will complain
that this book wears an air disproportionately iyth
century ; and, now I look at it, I see they will have
grounds. But, apart from this being the literary period
most familiar to me, and therefore coming most readily
to my mind, its literature, from the rich and sonorous
prose and lovely verse of its earlier years, through the
graceful Latinized elegance of its middle period, to the
lounging, easy urbanity of its close, is so entrancing that
it lures one, like a siren, to dwell with it. I have even
tagged the Roman dignity of Cicero's De Senectute with
the lively man-about-town idiom of Mr. Samuel Parker,
7
PREFACE
who makes Socrates exclaim briskly " Bless me, what do
you mean. Sir ? " like a coffee-house wit. And this brings
me to my next apology — for translations. When I could,
I have used the great translators — Chapman, Florio,
Holland, North, Golding, Greneway, Dryden, Pope,
and the rest, who have created in their renderings living
English prose or verse. To those who may think that
apart from these, I should have left such familiar languages
as Latin and French untranslated, I can but say that I
think them very likely right, and apologise for offering
them English versions of my own where they could have
made as good, or better, themselves.
As to the spelling of authors writing before the last
quarter of the i8th century, my aim has been to follow
the text of some edition published in the author's life-
time, or immediately after ; or, if none was published, to
follow the manuscript where it is accessible. I did not
succeed in seeing the Pepys MS., so have followed the
inconsistent orthography of those who have up till now
edited him. When I have taken my text from an edition
considerably later than the first, I have given the edition's
date.
I wish I could be sure that no inaccuracies have crept
into my transcriptions, made in the British Museum from
texts often dim, in a handwriting always bad, and typed
afterwards. If any have, I apologise ; also (to any reader
who dislikes it), for the contemporary spelling. This
seems to be a matter of taste ; if more editors of our older
literature had shared mine, they would have spared me
much trouble. Even Arber modernised ; even Mr. Norman
Ault, whose scholarly Seventeenth Century Lyrics so
8
PREFACE
bristles with invaluable and generous sign-posts to good
collections of verse. I dare say they are right ; it is
obviously an arguable point, and each anthologist must
do as he prefers. The only unpardonable method is,
as it seems to me, compromise.
There is here one little lyth century poem (on p. 22)
which has not, I believe, been printed before ; if any
one knows of it, I should be glad to hear. Several poems
and prose extracts have not, so far as I know, been
published since the century of their first appearance,
so may be unfamiliar to many readers ; among these are
what seem to me the two delightful ballads of young
women bathing, not the whole of which proved, however,
discreet enough for a modern anthology.
Finally, I should like to thank several friends who have
made intelligent and happy suggestions, and some who
have supplied material, (to Miss Antonia White, for
instance, I owe a sentence from an unpublished letter
of Jane Welsh's), and to acknowledge the unfailing and
kindly help of the superintendents of the British Museum
Reading Room, and the staff of the London library. I
should also like to express gratitude for the work of all
the scholarly editors who so greatly lighten the task of
anthologists, such, for instance, as Miss Marjorie Hope
Nicholson, whose patient skill in deciphering several miles
of the abominable handwriting of Henry More for her
Conway Letters filled me with admiration when I wrestled
with it myself.
CONTENTS
Preface page 7
Agreeable Encounters 15
Authorship 25
Bathing 39
Being Flattered 52
Being Sent Down 59
Bells 62
Catching Animals 64
Celestial 86
Christmas 107
Clothes 109
Collecting 115
Conversation 119
Conversion 127
Correspondence 136
Courtesy 140
Credulity 143
Curious Sights 147
Dancing 149
Day-Dreams 169
Decanal 170
Deploring the Decadence of the Age 171
Destruction 187
II
CONTENTS
Detachment page 193
Eccentricity 198
Exercise 200
Filial 201
Flattery 204
Female Pleasures 211
Fraternal 225
Games 229
Gardens 235
Giving Advice 248
Gossip 254
Grasping 264
Grottoes 266
Handicrafts 276
Handsome Persons 277
Happy Deaths 293
Happy Lot, A 308
Hot Baths 313
Houses 316
House-pride 321
Ice 322
Ignorance 324
In Bed 329
Industry 342
Insult 346
Knowledge 348
Liberty 350
Lunatic 353
Making a Fuss 364
12
CONTENTS
Making Merry page 368
Male Pleasures 375
Malice 380
Marine 385
Mathematical 397
Matrimony 400
Metropolitan 419
Odium Theologicum 43 1
Old Age 446
Orchards 459
Parental 466
Parties 480
Patriotism 488
Pet Animals 501
Play-going 516
Prison 519
Rain 534
Rambling 535
Reading 536
Repartee 546
Respect from Lower Orders 546
Rural 548
Saga Growth 558
Satisfactory Engagements 559
Scepticism 581
Sermons 585
Showing OS 59 1
Shows 600
Shopping 602
13
CONTENTS
Single Life, The page 609
Sloth 612
Smoking 614
Snacks between Meals 625
Sororal 632
Smells 634
Solitude 639
Spring 643
Sprunking 646
Street Music 659
Sunday 660
Taking Umbrage 672
Thrift 673
Travel 676
Tapestry Animals 687
Taverns 687
Vanity 689
Virtue 690
Visits 694
Wealth 703
Weddings 712
Woods 718
Xenophilism 720
Xenophobia 726
Acknowledgments 733
Index of Authors and Translators 735
Index of First Lines of Verse 745
THE MINOR PLEASURES
OF LIFE
AGREEABLE ENCOUNTERS
ELEPHANTS
If Elephants see a man comming against them that is
out of the way in wildernes, for they would not afray
him, they will draw themselves somewhat out of the way,
and then they stint, and pass little and little before him,
and teach him the way, and if a dragon come against
him, they fight with the dragon and defend the man, and
put them forth to defend the man strongly and mightily.
BARTHOLOMEW ANGLICUS
De Proprietatibus Rerum (c. 1240)
Trans. John Trevisa (1398, modernised 1582)
BURGUNDIAN JEWS
I was brought acquainted with a Burgundian Jew,
who had married an apostate Kentish woman. I asked
15
him divers questions : he told me, amongst other things,
that the World should never end ; that our soules trans-
migrated, and that even those of the most holy persons did
pennance in the bodyes of bruits after death, and so he
interpreted the banishment and salvage life of Nebuchad-
nezzar ; that all the Jews should rise againe and be led to
Jerusalem ; that the Romans only were the occasion of our
Saviour's death ; . . . that when the Messias came, all
the ships, barkes, and vessells of Holland should, by the
powere of certain strange whirle winds, be loos'd from
their ankers and transported in a moment to all the desolat
ports and havens throughout the world, wherever the dis-
persion was, to convey their breathren and tribes to the
Holy Citty ; with other such like stuff. He was a merry
drunken fellow, but would by no means handle any
money (for something I purchas'd of him) it being
Saturday ; but desired me to leave it in the window,
meaning to receive it on Sunday morning.
JOHN EVELYN
Diary (Leyden, Aug. 28, 1641)
COLONELS
I remember in those Times, an admired Original of
that Vocation, sitting in a Coffee-house near two Gentle-
men, whereof one was of the Clergy, who were engag'd
in some Discourse that savoured of Learning ; this
Officer thought fit to interpose, and professing to deliver
the Sentiments of his Fraternity, as well as his own . . .
turning to the Clergy-Man, spoke in the following
Manner, " D — n me, Doctor, say what you will, the Army
16
is the only School for Gentlemen. Do you think my lord
Marlborough beat the French with Greek and Latin?
D — n me, a Scholar when he comes into good Company,
what is he but an Ass ? D — n me, I would be glad, by
G — d, to see any of your Scholars with his Nouns, and his
Verbs, and his Philosophy, and Trigonometry, what a
Figure he would make at a Siege or Blockade, or ren-
countring, d — n me," etc. After which he proceeded with
a Volley of Military Terms . . . harder to be understood
than any that were coined by the Commentators upon
Aristotle.
JONATHAN SWIFT
Essay on Modern Education (c. 1723)
POETS
Some days after this conversation I walked to Lausanne,
to breakfast at the hotel with an old friend. ... He pre-
sently came in, accompanied by two English ladies. . . .
The husband of one of them soon followed. I saw by
their utilitarian garb, as well as by the blisters and blotches
on their cheeks, lips and noses, that they were pedestrian
tourists, fresh from the snow-covered mountains. . . .
The man was evidently a denizen of the north, his accent
harsh, skin white, of an angular and bony build, and self-
confident and dogmatic in his opinions. The precision and
quaintness of his language, as well as his eccentric remarks
on common things, stimulated my mind. Our icy islanders
thaw rapidly when they have drifted into warmer lati-
tudes : broken loose from its anti-social system, mystic
casts, coteries, sets and sects, they lay aside their
purse-proud, tuft-hunting, and toadying ways, and are
very apt to run riot in the enjoyment of all their senses
We talked as loud and as fast as if under the exhilarating
influence of champagne, instead of such a sedative com-
pound as cafe au lait. . . . The stranger expressed his disgust
at the introduction of carriages into the mountain districts
of Switzerland, and at the old fogies who used them.
" As to the arbitrary, pitiless, Godless wretches," he
exclaimed, " who have removed nature's landmarks by
cutting roads through Alps and Apennines, until all things
are reduced to the same dead level, they will be arraigned
hereafter with the unjust ; they have robbed the best
specimens of what men should be, of their freeholds in
the mountains ; the eagle, the black cock, and the red deer
they have tamed or exterminated. The lover of nature can
nowhere find a solitary nook to contemplate her beauties.
Yesterday," he continued, " at the break of day, I scaled
the most rugged height within my reach ; it looked in-
accessible ; this pleasant delusion was quickly dispelled ;
I was rudely startled out of a deep reverie by the accursed
jarring, jingling, and rumbling of a caleche, and harsh
voices that drowned the torrent's fall."
The stranger, now hearing a commotion in the street,
looked out of the window, and rang the bell violently.
" Waiter," he said, " is that our carriage ? Why did
you not tell us ? Come, lasses, be stirring, the freshness of
the day is gone. You may rejoice in not having to walk ;
there is a chance of saving the remnants of skin the sun
has left on our chins and noses." . . .
On their leaving the room to get ready for their journey,
my friend told me the strangers were the poet Words-
worth, his wife and sister. Who could have divined this ? I
could see no trace, in the hard features and weather-stained
18
brow of the outer man, of the divinity within him.
In a few minutes the travellers re-appeared. . . . Now
that I knew that I was talking to one of the gentle craft,
as there was no time to waste, I asked him abruptly what
he thought of Shelley as a poet ?
" Nothing," he replied, as abruptly.
Seeing my surprise, he added, " A man who has not
produced a good poem before he is twenty-five, we may
conclude cannot and never will do so."
" The Cenci ! " I said eagerly.
" Won't do," he replied, shaking his head, as he got
into the carriage : a rough-coated Scotch terrier followed
him.
" This hairy fellow is our flea-trap," he shouted out,
as they started off.
When I recovered from the shock of having heard the
harsh sentence passed by an elder bard on a younger
brother of the Muses, I exclaimed, After all, poets are
but earth.
E. J. TRELAWNY
Recollections of the Last Days of Shelley and Byron (1858)
I drove to Pisa . . . and . . . hastened to the Tre Palazzi
. . . where the Shelleys and Williamses lived on different
flats under the same roof, as is the custom on the Contin-
ent. The Williamses received me in their earnest cordial
manner ... we were in loud and animated conversation,
when I was rather put out by observing in the passage
near the open door, opposite to where I sat, a pair of
glittering eyes steadily fixed on mine ; . . . Mrs. Williams's
19
eyes followed the direction of mine, and going to the
doorway, she laughingly said,
" Come in, Shelley, it's only our friend Tre just arrived."
Swiftly gliding in, blushing like a girl, a tall thin
stripling held out both his hands ; and although I could
hardly believe, as I looked at his flushed, feminine and
artless face, that it could be the Poet, I returned his warm
pressure. ... I was silent from astonishment : was it
possible this mild-looking, beardless boy could be the
veritable monster at war with all the world ? — excom-
municated by the Fathers of the Church, deprived of his
civil rights by the fiat of a grim Lord Chancellor, dis-
carded by every member of his family, and denounced by
the rival sages of our literature as the founder of a Satanic
school ? I could not believe it : it must be a hoax. He
was habited like a boy, in a black jacket and trowsers, which
he seemed to have outgrown, or his tailor, as is the custom,
had most shamefully stinted him in his " sizings." Mrs.
Williams saw my embarrassment, and to relieve me asked
Shelley what book he had in his hand ? His face bright-
ened, and he answered briskly.
" Calderon's Magico Prodigioso, I am translating some
passages in it."
" Oh, read it to us ! "
Shoved off from the shore of common-place incidents
that could not interest him, and fairly launched on a theme
that did, he instantly became oblivious of everything but
the book in his hand. The masterly manner in which he
analysed the genius of the author, his lucid interpretation
of the story, and the ease with which he translated into our
language the most subtle ^nd imaginative passages of the
Spanish poet, were marvellous, as was his command of
the two languages. After this touch of his quality, I no
20
longer doubted his identity ; a dead silence ensued ;
looking up, I asked,
" Where is he ? "
Mrs. Williams said, " Who ? Shelley ? Oh, he comes
and goes like a spirit, no one knows when or where."
Presently he re-appeared with Mrs. Shelley. She . . .
welcomed me to Italy, and asked me the news of London
and Paris, the new books, operas, and bonnets, marriages,
murders, and other marvels. The Poet vanished, and tea
appeared.
Ibid.
VISITORS FROM THE MOON
We find our Air consists of thicker and grosser Vapours
than the Air of the Moon. So that one of her Inhabitants
arriving at the Confines of our World, as soon as he enters
our Air will inevitably drown himself, and we shall see
him fall dead on the Earth.
I should rejoyce at a Wreck, said the Countess, as much
as my Neighbours on the Coast of Sussex ; how pleasant
would it be to see 'em lie scatter'd on the ground, where
we might consider at our ease their extraordinary Figures !
But what, said /, if they could swim on the outward surface
of our Air, and be as curious to see us, as you are to see
them ; should they Angle or cast a Net for us, as for so
many Fish, would that please you ? Why not ? said the
Countess ; For my part I would go into their Nets of
mine own accord, were it but for the pleasure to see such
strange Fishermen.
BERNARD DE FONTENELLE
A Plurality of Worlds. Trans. John Glanvill (1688)
21
APPARITIONS
Anno 1670, not far from Cyrencester,was an Apparition:
Being demanded, whether a good Spirit or a bad ? re-
turned no answer, but disappeared with a curious Perfume
and a most melodious Twang. Mr. W. Lilly believes it
was a Farie. So Propertius.
JOHN AUBREY
Miscellanies (1696)
A COUNTRY LASS
I saw a Countrey lasse
did lye upon the grass,
her hatt of Strawe was made,
To keepe her in the Shade,
Her Band of plated haire
Scorning what els to ware, . . .
Her purfled Sleeves were white
lik Sunn dazling my Sight
her mayden Ribbon ty'de
to shew a Virgin Bride
her Petticoate the die
just like an Azure skye
Sheapheards to shew thiere Loves
offer'd Kidds Leather Gloves.
Skynn white as Mornings milke
softer then downe, or Silke
22
Brest Rocks of Curds all Seas
not prest yet for a Cheese,
haire brown as is the Berry,
her lookes modistly merry
her face still did renew
washt in each Mornings dew
Some Rurall folke did say
Her breath tasted like whay
When lipps with mine did meete,
Butter milke sugar'd sweete
Her dewy lipps Loves Streame
Fresh Strawberryes and Creame. . . .
Her Waterpoole the Glasse,
bracelets redd berries was
flowers for Jewells wore
All Arts her Love for bore . . .
her Bedd the fresher grasse
her Pillowe Rushes bough'd
Trees, Curtaines for her Shroud. . . .
for Hoboyes shee did keepe
a Quire of Birds did sing
thinking she was the Spring
the murmurring Rivolettes playd,
Loves Spiritts then Obey'd,
The Brookes did dropping Weepe
while shee did gently sleepe.
? JOHN GAMBLE
/ saw a Country Lasse (a. 1687)
SINGING MILKMAIDS
As I left that place, and enterd into the next field, a second
pleasure entertained me, 'twas a handsom milk-maid,
that had cast away all care, and sung like a Nightinghale,
her voice was good, and the Ditty fitted for it, 'twas that
smooth song which was made by Kit Marlowe now at
least fifty yeers ago : and the Milk-Maids mother sung an
answer to it, which was made by Sir Walter Raleigh in
his younger daies. They were old-fashioned Poetrie, but
choicely good, I think much better then that now in
fashion in this critical age. Look yonder, on my word,
yonder they be both a milking againe ; I will give her the
chub, and perswade them to sing these two songs to us.
PISCATOR : God speed, good woman, I have been a fishing,
and am going to Bleak Hall to my bed, and having caught
more fish then will sup my self and friend, will bestow
this upon you and your daughter. . . .
MILKWOMAN : Marrie God requite you Sir, and we'l eat it
cheerfully : and if you come this way a fishing two months
hence, a grace of God He give you a Sillibub of new
Verjuice, in a new-made Hay-Cock, and my Maudlin shall
sing you one of her best Ballads, for she and I both love
all Anglers, they be such honest, civil, quiet men : in the
mean-time, will you drink a draught of Red Cowes milk,
you shall have it freely.
Pise : No, I thank you, but I pray you do us a Courtesie
that shall stand you and your daughter in nothing, and we
wil think our selves stil something in your debt ; it is but
to sing us a song, that was sung by you and your daughter
when I last past over this meadowe about eight or nine
daies since.
IZAAK WALTON
The Compleat Angler (1653)
24
PRETTY LADIES
Sir G. Carteret, Sir W. Pen and I walked forth, and I
spied Mrs Pierce and another lady passing by. So I left
them and went to the ladies, and walked with them up and
down, and took them to Mrs Stephens, and there gave
them wine and sweetmeats, and were very merry ; and
then comes the Doctor, and we carried them by coach to
their lodging, which was very poor, but the best they
could get, and such as made much mirth among us. So I
appointed one to watch when the gates of the town were
ready to be shut, and to give us notice ; and so the Doctor
and I staid with them playing and laughing, and at last
were forced to bid good night for fear of being locked into
the town all night. So we walked to the yard, designing
how to prevent our going to London to-morrow, that we
might be merry with these ladies, which I did.
SAMUEL PEPYS
Diary (April 29, 1662)
AUTHORSHIP
ENJOYING ONE'S BOOK
'Twill be a pretty thing, and I am glad you putt me on it.
I doe it playingly. This morning being up by 10, I writt
two lives : one was Sir John Suckling, of whom I wrote a
leafe and a £ in folio. . . .
25
My memoires of lives is now a booke of 2 quires, close
written : and after I had begun it, I had such an impulse
on my spirit that I could not be at quiet till I had done
it. ...
My booke of lives . . . they will be in all about six
score, and I beleeve never any in England were delivered
so faithfully and with so good authority.
JOHN AUBREY
Letter to Anthony Wood (1680)
REVENGE
I am writing a comedy for Thomas Shad well. . . . And I
shall fit him with another, The Countrey Revell, . . . but
of this, mum ! for 'tis very satyricall against some of my
mischievous enemies which I in my tumbling up and
downe have collected.
Ibid.
THE BLISS OF EXCESSIVE FONDNESS
He [Richardson] was delighted by his own works. No
author enjoyed so much the bliss of excessive fondness.
. . . The extreme delight which he felt on a review of his
own works, the works themselves witness. Each is an
evidence of what some will deem a violent literary vanity.
To Pamela is prefixed a letter from the editor (whom we
know to be the author} consisting of one of the most
minutely laboured panegyrics of the work itself, that ever
26
the blindest idolater of some ancient classic paid to the
object of his frenetic imagination. ... To the author's
own edition of his Clarissa is appended an alphabetical
arrangement of the sentiments dispersed throughout the
work ; and such was the fondness that dictated this volu-
minous arrangement, that such trivial
" habits are not easily changed," " men are known by
their companions/5 etc. seem alike to be the object of their
author's admiration. And in Sir Charles Grandison, is not
only prefixed a complete index, with as much exactness as
if it were a History of England, but there is also appended
a list of the similes and allusions in the volume. . . .
Literary history does not record a more singular example
of that self-delight which an author has felt on a revision
of his works. It was this intense pleasure which produced
his voluminous labours.
ISAAC DISRAELI
Curiosities of Literature (1792-1823)
AN AGREEABLE DELIRIUM
The mere act and habit of writing, without probably even
a remote view of publication, has produced an agreeable
delirium. . . . Petrarch exhibits no solitary instance of
this passion of the pen. " I read and I write night and day ;
it is my only consolation. ... On the table where I dine,
and by the side of my bed, I have all the materials for
writing; and when I awake in the dark, I write, although I
am unable to read the nextlnofning what I have written."
Petrarch was not always in his perfect senses.
The copiousness and the multiplicity of the writings of
2?
many authors have shown that too many find a pleasure
in the act of composition which they do not communicate
to others. ... At the early period of printing, two of the
most eminent printers were ruined by the volumes of one
author ; we have their petition to the pope to be saved
from bankruptcy We are astonished at the fertility and
the size of our own writers of the seventeenth century,
when the theological war of words raged, spoiling so many
pages and brains. . . . They went on with their work,
sharply or bluntly, like witless mowers, without stopping
to whet their scythes. They were inspired by the scrib-
bling demon of that rabbin, who, in his oriental style and
mania of volume, exclaimed that were " the heavens
formed of paper, and were the trees of the earth pens, and if
the entire sea run ink, these only could suffice " for the
monstrous genius he was about to discharge on the
world. . . .
The pleasure which authors of this stamp experience is
of a nature which, whenever certain unlucky circum-
stances combine, positively debarring them from publi-
cation, will not abate their ardour one jot ; and their pen
will still luxuriate in the forbidden page which even
booksellers refuse to publish.
Ibid.
VOLUMINOUS PRYNNE
He may be well intituled Voluminous Prynne, as Tostatus
Abulensis was 200 years before his time called Voluminous
Tostatus ; for I verily beUeve, that if it be rightly com-
puted, he wrot a sheet for every day of his life, reckoning
from the time when he came to the use of reason and the
28
state of Man. His custom when he studied was to put on
a long quilted cap which came an inch over his eyes,
serving as an Umbrella to defend them from too much
light, and seldom eating a dinner, would every 3 hours or
so be maunching a roll of bread.
Athenae Oxoniensis (1692)
WAITING FOR REVIEWS
Next Thursday I shall be delivered to the World, for
whose inconstant and malicious levity I am coolly but
firmly prepared. EDWARD GnJBON
Letter to his Stepmother, before publication of vols 2 and 3
of the Decline and Fall (1781)
PATRONS
Let there be Patrons ; patrons like to thee,
Brave Porter \ Poets ne'r will wanting be ;
FabiuSy and Cotta, Lentulus, all live
In thee, thou Man of Men ! who here do'st give
Not onely subject-matter for our wit.
But likewise Oyle of Maintenance to it :
For which, before thy Threshold, we'll lay downe
Our Thyrse, for Scepter ; and our Baies for Crown.
For, to say truth, all Garlands are thy due ;
The Laurelly Mirtle, Oke, and Ivie too.
ROBERT HERRICK
To the Patron of Poets, Mr. Endymion Porter
Hesperides (1648)
29
BEING SNATCHED FROM OBSCURITY
Vapid. Now do take my advice and write a play — if any
accident happens, remember, it is better to have written
a damn'd play than no play at all — it snatches a man from
obscurity.
FREDERICK REYNOLDS
The Dramatist (1793)
ROYAL APPRECIATION
The Duke of Gloucester, brother of King George III,
permitted Mr Gibbon to present to him the first volume of
the History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.
When the second volume of that work appeared, it was
quite in order that it should be presented to His Royal
Highness in like manner. The Prince received the author
with much good nature and affability, saying to him, as he
laid the quarto on the table, " Another d-mned thick
square book ! Always scribble, scribble ! Eh ! Mr Gib-
bon ? "
Does not every reader of this anecdote judge it to be a
most ingenious example of persiflage ? How admirably
does the prince quiz the vo-luminous Historian ! . . .
We must suppose Mr Gibbon to be a very silly man, if
he could be flattered by the leave given to lay his works
before so incompetent a personage.
H. D. BEST
Personal and Literary Memorials (1829)
30
DARTING THOUGHTS
He walked much and contemplated, and he had in the
head of his staffe a pen and inke-horne, carried alwayes a
note-booke in his pocket, and as soon as a thought darted,
he presently entered it into his booke, or otherwise he
might perhaps have lost it.
JOHN AUBREY
Brief Lives. Thomas Hobbes (c. 1680)
THE ARDOR SCRIBENDI
He has the ardor scribendi upon him so strong, that he
would rather you'd ask him to write an epilogue to a new
play, than offer him your whole estate — the theatre is his
world, in which are included all his hopes and wishes. — In
short — he is a dramatic maniac.
FREDERICK REYNOLDS
The Dramatist (1793)
NOURISHMENT OF AUTHORS
Every animal has an aliment peculiarly suited to its
constitution. The heavy ox seeks nourishment from earth ;
the light cameleon has been supposed to exist on air ; a
sparer diet than even this will satisfy the man of true
31
genius, for he makes a luxurious banquet on empty
applause. It is this alone which has inspired all that was
ever truly great and noble among us. It is, as Cicero finely
calls it, the echo of virtue. Avarice is the passion of in-
ferior natures ; money the pay of the common herd. The
author who draws his quill merely to take a purse, no
more deserves success than he who presents a pistol.
OLIVER GOLDSMITH
Inquiry into the present state of polite learning (1759)
BEING TRANSLATED INTO RUSSIAN
He called to us with a sudden air of exultation, as the
thought darted into his mind, " O ! Gentlemen, I must
tell you a very great thing. The Empress of Russia has
ordered the Rambler to be translated into the Russian
language : so I shall be read on the banks of the Wolga.
Horace boasts that his fame would extend as far as the
banks of the Rhone ; now the Wolga is farther from me
than the Rhone was from Horace." BOSWELL. " You
must be pleased with this, Sir." JOHNSON. " I am
pleased, Sir, to be sure." I have since heard that the
report was not well founded ; but the elation discovered
by Johnson in the belief that it was true, shewed a noble
ardour for literary fame.
JAMES BOSWELL
Life of Johnson (1791)
PLAY-WRITING
JOHNSON : But wilt thou do me a favour, now ?
BAYES : Ay, Sir : What is't ?
JOHNS. : Why, to tell him the meaning of thy last Play.
BAYES : How, Sir, the meaning ? do you mean the Plot.
JOHNS. : Ay, ay ; any thing.
BAYES : Faith, Sir, the Intrigo's now quite out of my head ;
but I have a new one, in my pocket, that I may say is a
Virgin ; 't has never yet been blown upon. I must tell you
one thing. 'Tis all new Wit ; and, though I say it, a better
than my last : and you know well enough how that took.
In fine, it shall read, and write, and act, and plot, and
shew, ay, and pit, box and gallery, I gad, with any play
in Europe. . . .
BAYES : My next Rule is the Rule of Record, and by way
of Table-Book. Pray observe.
JOHNS. : Well, we hear you : go on.
BAYES : As thus. I come into a Coffee-House, or some
other place where wittie men resort, I make as if I minded
nothing ; (do you mark ?) but as soon as any one speaks,
pop I flap it down, and make that, too my own.
JOHNS. : But, Mr Bayes, are not you sometimes in danger
of their making you restore, by force, what you have
gotten thus by Art ?
BAYES : No, Sir ; the world's unmindful : they never take
notice of these things. . . .
BAYES : Whereupon they all clapping —
SMITH : But, suppose they do not.
BAYES : Suppose ! Sir, you may suppose what you please,
BP 33
I have nothing to do with your suppose, Sir, nor am not
at all mortifi'd at it ; not at all, Sir ; I gad, not one jot.
Suppose, quoth a ! — (Walks away.)
JOHNS, : Phoo ! pr'ythee, Bayes, don't mind what he
says : he's a fellow newly come out of the Country, he
knows nothing of what's the relish, here, of the Town.
BAYES : If I writ, Sir, to please the Country, I should
have follow'd the old plain way ; but I write for some
persons of Quality, and peculiar friends of mine, that
understand what Flame and power in writing is ; and
they do me the right, Sir, to approve of what I do.
JOHNS.: Ay, ay, they will clap, I warrant you; never
fear it.
BAYES : I'm sure the design's good ; that cannot be
deny'd. And then, for language, I gad, I defie 'em all, in
nature, to mend it. Besides, Sir, I have printed above a
hundred sheets of papyr, to insinuate the Plot into the
Boxes : and withal, have appointed two or three dozen of
my friends, to be readie in the Pit, who, I'm sure, will
clap, and so the rest, you know, must follow ; and then,
pray, Sir, what becomes of your suppose ? Ha, ha, ha.
JOHNS. : Nay, if the business be so well laid, it cannot miss.
BAYES : I think so, Sir. ... If I could engage 'em to clap,
before they see the Play, you know 'twould be so much the
better ; because then they were engaged : for, let a man
write never so well, there are, now-a-days, a sort of
persons, they call Critiques, that, I gad, have no more wit
in 'em than so many Hobby-horses ; but they'l laugh you,
Sir, and find fault, and censure things that, A gad, I'm
sure they are not able to do themselves. A sort of envious
persons, that emulate the glories of persons of parts, and
think to build their fame, by calumniating of persons that,
34
I gad, to my knowledge, of all persons in the world are,
in nature, the persons that do as much despise all that,
as — a — in fine, Fl say no more of 'em.
JOHNS. : Ay, ay, you have said enough of 'em in con-
science : Fm sure more than they'l ever be able to answer.
BAYES : Why, Fl tell you, Sir, sincerely and bonafide', were
it not for the sake of some ingenious persons, and choice
female spirits, that have a value for me, I would see 'em
all hang'd before I would e'er more set pen to paper ;
but let 'em live in ignorance like ingrates.
JOHNS. : Ay marry ! that were a way to be reveng'd on
'em indeed : and, if I were in your place, now, I would
do it.
BAYES : No, Sir ; there are certain tyes upon me, that I
cannot be disengag'd from ; otherwise, I would. . . .
BAYES : That's very good, i'faith : ha, ha, ha. ... How, do
you not like it now, Gentlemen ? Is not this pure Wit ?
SMITH : 'Tis snip snap, Sir, as you say ; but, methinks, not
pleasant, not to the purpose, for the Play does not go on.
BAYES : Play does not go on ? I don't know what you
mean : why, is not this part of the Play ?
SMITH : Yes, but the Plot stands still.
BAYES : Plot stand still ! why, what a Devil is the Plot
good for, but to bring in fine things ?
SMITH : O, I did not know that before.
BAYES : No, I think you did not : nor many things more,
that I am Master of. Now, Sir, I gad, this is the bane of
all us writers : let us soar never so little above the common
pitch, I gad, all's spoil'd ; for the vulgar never understand
us, they can never conceive you, Sir, the excellencie of
these things.
35
JOHNS : 'Tis a sad fate, I must confess : but you write on
still?
BAYES : Write on ? I gad, I warrant you. 'Tis not their
talk shall stop me : if they catch me at that lock, I give
'em leave to hang me. As long as I know my things to be
good, what care I what they say ?
GEORGE VILLIERS, DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM
The Rehearsal (1672)
SUCCESS
The volume of my history . . . was now ready for the
press. . . . During this awful interval, I was neitherjelatcd
by ^he^ambition ofjame, nor^ depressed by the apprehen-
sijon^fcpntempt. My diligence and accuracy were attested
by my own conscience. . . .
I am at a loss how to describe the success of the work
without betraying the vanity of the writer. The first
impression was exhausted in a few days ; a second and
third edition were scarcely adequate to the demand, and
the bookseller's property was twice invaded by the pyrates
of Dublin. My book was on every table, and almost on
every toilette ; the historian was crowned by the taste of
fashion of the day ; nor was the general voice disturbed
by the barking of any profane critic. . . .
. . . Twenty happy years have been animated by the
labour of my history; and its success has given me a name,
a rank, a character, in the World, to which I should not
otherwise have been entitled. The freedom of my writings
has, indeed, provoked an implacable tribe ; but as I was
safe from the stings, I was soon accustomed to the buzzing
36
of the hornets ; my nerves are not tremblingly alive ; and
my literary temper is so happily framed, that I am more
sensible of pleasure than pain. The rational pride of an
author may be offended rather than flattered by vague
indiscriminate praise ; but he cannot, he should not, be
indifferent to the fair testimonies of private and public
esteem. . . .
EDWARD GIBBON
Autobiography (1789)
EASY MONEY
All on a sudden he changed his mode of life, shut him-
self up in his rooms, and rarely associated with any one.
In the course of a few weeks, " A Ramble through Italy,
by the Rev. William Moore, Fellow of King's College,"
was announced for publication. As he was a well-known
character, many persons were very desirous to see the
book. The adventures related (which were all imaginary,
as he had never been out of England) were amusing
enough, although some of them were highly improbable.
. . . Moore netted three hundred guineas by his Travels,
and as he spent nothing during his tour, he became com-
paratively a rich man, and was enabled to compound with
some of the most urgent of his creditors. He was sub-
sequently appointed to a living, by which he was enabled
to launch again into the gay world ; but his conduct was so
notorious that his companions were of a less respectable
class than formerly. (1796)
HENRY GUNNING
Reminiscences of Cambridge (1852)
37
NOT WRITING
BOSWELL : " But I wonder. Sir, you have not more
pleasure in writing than in not writing."
JOHNSON : " Sir, you may wonder."
JAMES BOSWELL
Life of Johnson (1791)
POSTHUMOUS GLORY
O, if my lot should give me such a friend, who knows so
well how to honour the men of Phoebus ! . . . When at last,
having traversed the years of a life not silent, and being
full of years, I yield to my ashes their rights, this friend
would stand, with wet eyes, beside my bier, and it will be
enough if I say to him, standing there, " Let me be thy
care." He would carefully and gently dispose in a little
urn my limbs, loosened by livid death. And perhaps he
would carve my face in marble, binding my locks with a
wreath of Paphian myrtle or laurel of Parnassus, and I
should rest in secure peace. Then, so far as there is any
faith, any certain reward for the good, I myself, removed
to the heaven of the sky-dwelling gods, to wherever toil
and a pure heart and flaming excellence are borne, shall
watch in some degree, (so far as the fates permit) from
that retired world this world here, and, with my mind
calmly smiling, shall have my face suffused with glorious
light, and at the same time shall joyfully applaud myself
in heavenly Olympus.
JOHN MILTON
Mansus (1639) (Trans, from Latin)
38
REVISION
I have completed all things so exquisitely to my minde
that I would not for all the world but that I had had this
opportunity of revising them, so fond am I of the frutes of
my own minde, which yet I think I should not be, did I
not hope that they will be very serviceable to the World
in their chiefest concernes.
HENRY MORE
Letter to Lady Conway (1662)
BATHING
PLEASURES OF SWIMMING
From the twentieth day of May unto the twentieth of
August, we may commodiously adventure our Bodies in
the water. . . .
If you can swim, leap into the water ; but if not, then
walk gently in, till you have waded so deep that the water
covers your belly, and is up to your middle : then spread
your body flat upon the waters, and endeavour to swim
with a good courage. . . .
He that does them [swimming exercises] with dexterity,
and can exercise them all as easily as he can see the Sun,
39
all persons will call him Neptunes Nephew, The Captain of
the Sea ; and will never cease filling their minds with
his praise. . . .
Besides the delight of the mind that the party swimming
hath, there is much profit or use ; for he may swim to any
shear, and view it all the time he is Swimming. . . .
Touch your Toes [while swimming] and handle them
as you please, and pare them at pleasure, for you may
safely do it, and without danger.
WILLIAM PERCY
The Compleat Swimmer, or the Art of Swimming (1658)
Adapted from Everard Digby's De Arte Natandi
(1587)
NIGHT BATHE
It was in June, and 'twas on Barnaby Bright too,
A time when the days are long, and nights are short,
A crew of merry Girles, and that in the night too,
Resolv'd to wash in a river, and there to sport ;
And there (poore things) they then resolv'd to be merry
too,
And with them did bring good store of junketting stuff e,
As Bisket, and Cakes, and Sugar, and Syder, and Perry
too,
Of each such a quantity, that was more than enough.
But mark what chanct unto this innocent crew then,
Who thought themselves secure from any eare ;
They knew twas dark, that none coud take a view then,
And all did seem to be voyd of any feare ;
\ 40
Then every one uncas'd themselves, both smock and all
And each expected first who should begin ;
And that they might stay but an houre, they told the
Clock and all ;
Then all in a Te-he-ing vaine did enter in.
But now comes out the Tale I meant to tell ye,
For a Crew of Jovial Lads were there before.
And finding there some viands for their belly,
They eas'd em then poor hearts of all their store ;
Then every Lad sate down upon the Grasse there,
And whisper'd thanks to th' Girls for all their good
Cheare.
In which they drank a health to every Lass there,
That then were washing and rinsing without any fear.
And when they had pleas'd (and fill'd) their bellies and
pallats too,
They back did come unto the foresaid place,
And took away their Smocks, and both their Wallets
too,
We brought their good Bubb, and left them in pittifull
case,
For presently they all came out to th' larder there,
That it put 'em unto their shifts their Smocks to find ;
I think, says one, my shift is a little farder there,
I, I, sayes another, for yours did lye by mine.
At last, says one, the Divel a smock is here at all.
The Devil, a bit of bread, or drop of drink,
They've took every morsel of our good cheare and all,
And nothing but Gowns and Petticoats left, as I think,
41
At last, says one, if they'd give us our Smocks agen,
And likewise part of what we hither brought,
We shall be much obliegd, and think 'em Gentlemen,
And by this foolish example be better taught.
Although in the River they were as merry as crickets
there,
Twixt laughing and fretting their state they did con-
dole ;
And then came one of the Lads from out of the thickets
there,
And told 'em hee'd bring 'em their smocks, and what
was stole ;
They only with Petticoats on, like Jipsies were clad in
then,
He brought 'em their Smocks, and what he had
promis'd before ;
They fell to eat, and drink as if they'd been mad there,
And glad they were all, they'd got so much of their
store.
And when they all had made a good repast there,
They put on their cloths, and all resolv'd to be gone ;
Then out comes all the ladds in very great hast there,
And every one to the other then was known ;
The girles did then conjure the ladds that were there,
To what had past their lipps shoud still be seald,
Nay more than that they made 'em all to swear there,
To which they did, that nothing should be reveald.
Then each at other did make a pass at kissing then,
And round it went to e /ery one level coile,
But thinking that at home they might be missing then,
And fear'd that they had stay'd too great a while,
42
Then hand in hand they alltogether marcht away.
And every lad convey'd his Mistris home,
Agen they kist, then every Lass her man did pray,
That what had past, no more of that but Mum.
ANON
The Bathing of the Girles (Westminster Drollery, //,
1672)
USES OF SWIMMING
The skill and art of swimming is also very requisite in
every Noble and Gentleman, especially if he looketh for
employment in the warres, for hereby (besides the pre-
serving of his owne life upon infinite occasions), he may
many wayes annoy his enemy. Horatius Codes onely by
the benefit of swimming saved his countrey, for when
himselfe alone had long defended and made good the
Bridge over Tyber against the Hetruscans, the Romanes
brake it downe behind him, wherewith, in his Armour
he cast himselfe into the River and . . . swam with
safetie into the Citie, which rewarded him with a Statue
erected in the Market place. . . .
And as resolute was that attempt ... of Gerrard and
Harvey, two Gentlemen of our own Nation, who in
eightie eight in the fight at Sea, swam in the night time,
and pierced with Awgers, or such like instruments, the
sides of the Spanish Galleons, and returned back safe to
the Fleete.
HENRY PEACHAM
The Compleat Gentleman (1622)
43
A FEAT
Julius Caesar being hard put to it neere Alexandria leaped
into the sea and laying some bookes on his head made shift
to swimme a good way with one hand.
SIR THOMAS BROWNE
Notes from Commonplace Books (undated)
THE PRIVATE BATHE
The four and twentieth Day of May,
of all times in the Year,
A Virgin Lady bright and gay,
did privately appear
Close by the River side, which she
did single out the rather,
Cause she was sure, it was secure,
and had intent to Bathe her.
With glittering Glance, her jealous Eyes,
did slyly look about,
To see if any lurking Spies,
were hid to find her out :
And being well resolv'd that none
could view her Nakedness ;
She puts her Robes off, one by one,
and doth her self undress. . . .
Into a fluent stream she leapt,
which look'd like Liquid Glass ;
The Fishes from all quarters crept,
to see what Angel 'twas ;
44
She did so like a Vision look,
or Fancy in a Dream,
'Twas thought the Sun the Sky forsook ;
and dropt into the stream. . . .
Thus was the Rivers Diamond head,
with Pearls and Saphir crown'd :
Her Legs did shove, her Arms did move,
her Body did rebound :
She then did quaff the Juice of Joy,
fair Venus Queen of Love
With Mars did never in more ways,
of melting motion move ! . . .
ANON
The Swimming Lady : . . . Being a true Relation of a
Coy Lady . . . Swimming in a River near Oxford
(late i yth c.)
IN THE HELLESPONT
When I who was Amans, which we translate
A Lover, stole out of my Fathers Gate,
And having put off all my cloathes strait way,
My armes through the moyst sea did cut their way,
The Moone did yeeld a glimmering light to me,
Which all the way did beare me company.
I looking on her said, Some favour have
Towards me, and thinke upon the Latmain Cave.
O favour me ! for thy Endymions sake,
Prosper this stollen journey which I take. . . .
When I these words, or else the like had said,
My passage through the sea by night I made.
45
The Moones bright beames were in the water scene.
And 'twas as light as if it day had beene.
No noise or voyce unto my eares did come.
But the murmure of the water when I swum.
Only the Alcyons soe lov'd Coeyds sake
Seemed by night a sweet complaint to make.
But when my armes to grow tir'd did begin,
Unto the top of the waves I did spring
But when I saw thy torch, O then quoth I,
Where that fire blazeth, my faire love doth lye.
For that same shore, said I, doth her containe
Who is my goddesse, my fire, and my flame.
These words to my armes did such strength restore,
Me thought the Sea grew calmer than before.
The coldnesse of the waves I seem'd to scorne,
For love did keepe my amorous heart still warme.
The neerer I came to the shoare, I find
The greater courage and more strength of mind.
But when I could by thee discerned be
Thou gav'st me courage by looking on me.
Then to please thee, my Mistresse, I begin
To spread my armes abroad, and strongly swim.
Thy Nurse from leaping downe could scarce stay
thee ;
This without flattery I did also see,
And though she did restraine thee, thou didst come
Downe to the shoare, and to the waves didst run,
And to imbrace and kiss me didst begin :
The gods to get such kisses sure would swim.
OVID
Heroides XVIII (c. 15 B.C.)
Trans. Wye Saltonstall (1639)
46
BOTTOM OF THE PACIFIC
I shall never forget my surprise and delight on first behold-
ing the bottom of the sea. The water within the reef was
as calm as a pond ; and as there was no wind, it was quite
clear, from the surface to the bottom, so that we could see
down easily even at a depth of twenty or thirty yards.
When Jack and I dived in shallower water, we expected to
have found sand and stones, instead of which we found
ourselves in what appeared really to be an enchanted
garden. The whole of the bottom of the lagoon, as we
called the calm water within the reef, was covered with
coral of every shape, size and hue. Some portions were
formed like large mushrooms ; others appeared like the
brain of a man, having stalks or necks attached to them ;
but the most common kind was a species of branching
coral, and some portions were of a lovely pale pink colour,
others pure white. Among this there grew large quantities
of sea- weed of the richest hues imaginable, and of the most
graceful forms ; while innumerable fishes — blue, red,
yellow, green and striped — sported in and out among the
flower-beds of this submarine garden, and did not appear to
be at all afraid of our approaching them. . . . When Jack
reached the bottom, he grasped the coral stems, and crept
along on his hands and knees, peeping under the sea-weed
and among the rocks. I observed him pick up one or two
oysters ... so I also gathered a few.
R. M. BALLANTYNE
The Coral Island (1860)
47
PRYING ACTAEON
Diana and her Darlings dear,
went walking on a day,
Throughout the Woods and Waters clear,
for their disports and play ;
The leaves aloft were very green
and pleasant to be hold ;
These Nymps then walkt the trees between
under the shadows cold.
So long, at last they found a place
of Springs and Waters clear,
A fairer Bath there never was
found out this thousand year :
Wherein Diana., daintily,
herself began to bathe,
And all her Virgins fair and pure,
themselves do wash and lave :
And as the Nymps in water stood,
Acteon passed by,
As he came running thro the Wood,
on them he cast his Eye, . . .
You hunters all, that range the Woods,
although you rise up rath.
Beware you come not nigh the Flood,
were Virgins use to bathe :
For if Diana you espy,
among her Darlings dear,
Your former Shape she will disguise
and make you horns to wear.
48
And so do I conclude my Song,
having nothing to alledge :
If Acteon had Right or Wrong,
let all true Virgins judge.
ANON
An excellent New Sonnet, Shewing how the Goddess
Diana Transformed Acteon into the Shape of a Hart
(late I yth c.)
AT SCARBOROUGH
Betwixt the well and the harbour, the bathing machines
are ranged along the beach, with all their proper utensils
and attendants — you have never seen one of these
machines. Imagine to yourself a small, snug, wooden
chamber, fixed upon a wheel-carriage, having a door at
each end, and on each side a little window above, a bench
below, — the bather, ascending into this apartment by
wooden steps, shuts himself in, and begins to undress,
while the attendant yokes a horse to the end next the sea,
and draws the carriage forwards, till the surface of the
water is on a level with the floor of the dressing-room. , . .
The person within being stripped, opens the door to the
seaward, where he finds the guide ready, and plunges head-
long in the water — After having bathed, he re-ascends into
the apartment . . . and puts on his clothes at his leasure,
while the carriage is drawn back again upon the dry land ;
. . . The guides who attend to the ladies in the water, are
of their own sex, and they and the female bathers have
a dress of flannel for the sea ; nay, they are provided with
other conveniences for the support of decorum. A certain
49
number of the machines are fitted with tilts, that project
from the seaward ends of them, so as to screen the bathers
from the view of all persons whatsoever — . . . For my part,
I love swimming as an exercise, and can enjoy it at all
times of the tide, without the formality of an apparatus
— You and I have often plunged together into the Isis ;
but the sea is a much more noble bath, for health as well
as pleasure. You cannot conceive what a flow of spirits it
gives, and how it braces every sinew of the human frame.
Were I to enumerate half the diseases which are every day
cured by sea-bathing, you might justly say you had
received a treatise, instead of a letter.
TOBIAS SMOLLETT
Humphrey Clinker (1771)
HOLY WATER
As I was troubled with fits, she advised me to bathe in
the loff, which was holy water ; and so I went in the morn-
ing to a private place along with the housemaid, and we
bathed in our birth-day soot, after the fashion of the
country ; and behold, whilst we dabbled in the loff. Sir
George Coon started up with a gun ; but we clapt our
hands to our faces, and passed by him to the place where
we had left our smocks — A civil gentleman would have
turned his head another way. — My comfit is, he new not
which was which, and, as the saying is, All cats in the
dark are grey.
Ibid.
ROYALTY AT WEYMOUTH
The King bathes, and with great success ; a machine
follows the Royal one into the sea, filled with fiddlers,
who play " God Save the King," as His Majesty takes
his PlunSC ! FANNY BURNEY
Diary (July 8, 1789)
A TUSCAN FOREST POOL
In the middle of the day, I bathe in a pool or fountain
formed in the middle of the forests by a torrent . It is sur-
rounded on all sides by precipitous rocks, and the waterfall
of the stream which forms it falls into it on one side with
perpetual dashing. Close to it, on the top of the rocks, are
alders, and above, the great chestnut trees, whose long and
pointed leaves pierce the deep blue sky in strong relief.
The water of this pool ... is as transparent as the air, so
that the stones and sand at the bottom seem, as it were,
trembling in the light of noonday. It is exceedingly cold
also. My custom is to undress and sit on the rocks, read-
ing Herodotus, until the perspiration has subsided, and
then to leap from the edge of the rock into this fountain
— a practice in the hot weather exceedingly refreshing.
This torrent is composed, as it were, of a succession of
pools and waterfalls, up which I sometimes amuse myself
by climbing when I bathe, and receiving the spray all over
my body, whilst I clamber up the moist crags with
P. B. SHELLEY
Letter to T. L. Peacock (1818)
BEING FLATTERED
BY POLYPHEMUS
I heard the Ruffian-Shepherd rudely blow,
Where, in a hollow cave, I sate below ;
On Ads9 bosom I my Head reclin'd :
And still preserve the Poem in my Mind.
Oh, lovely Galatea, whiter far
Than falling Snows, and rising Lilies are ;
More flowery than the Meads, as Crystal bright :
Erect as Alders, and of equal Height :
More wanton than a Kid, more sleek thy Skin,
Than Orient Shells, that on the Shore are seen.
Than Apples fairer, when the Boughs they lade ;
Pleasing, as Winter Suns, or Summer Shade :
More grateful to the Sight, than goodly Plains ;
And softer to the Touch, than Down of Swans ;
Or Curds new-turn'd ; and sweeter to the Taste
Than swelling Grapes, that to the Vintage haste :
More clear than Ice, or running Streams, that stray
Through Garden Plots, but ah ! more swift than they.
Yet, Galatea, harder to be broke
Than Bullocks, unreclaim'd, to bear the Yoke,
And far more stubborn, than the knotted Oak :
52
Like sliding Streams, impossible to hold ;
Like them, fallacious, like their Fountains, cold,
More warping, than the Willow, to decline
My warm Embrace, more brittle than the Vine ;
Immoveable, and fixt in thy Disdain :
Rough as these Rocks, and of a harder Grain.
More violent than is the rising Flood :
And the prais'd Peacock is not half so proud.
Fierce as the Fire, and sharp, as Thistles are,
And more outragious than a Mother-bear :
Deaf as the Billows, to the Vows I make ;
And more revengeful than a trodden Snake.
In Swiftness than the flying Hind,
Or driven Tempests, or the driving Wind.
All other Faults with Patience I can bear ;
But swiftness is the Vice I only fear.
JOHN DRYDEN
Ads, Polyphemus and Galatea (1700)
From Ovid, Aietamorphoses (c. 5 B.C.)
BY ENGLISH LADIES
Byron says that the number of anonymous amatory
letters and portraits he has received, and all from English
ladies, would fill a large volume. He says he has never
noticed any of them ; but it is evident he recurs to them
with complacency.
LADY BLESSINGTON
Journal of Conversations with Lord Byron
(1834)
53
BY PROCTORS
Mr. John Herne of Exeter, the senior proctor for the last
year, made a speech for his farewell, wherein he flattered
the undergraduates, stiling them " florentissimi juvenes,"
men that are examples rather than to be made examples.
Soe Shepen also flattered them which made them the
ruder and debaucht. So impudent they were at this time
that they kicked a barrell or a kidderkin that lay in the
street up Kat Street and to Wadham College gate even
with the proctors.
ANTHONY WOOD
Life and Times (1665)
BY FOREIGN VISITORS
He was mightily importuned to goe into France and Italic.
Foraigners came much to see him, and much admired
him, and offered him great preferments, to come over to
them, and the only inducement of severall foreigners that
came over into England, was chiefly to see O. Protector
and Mr. J. Milton, and would see the house and chamber
wher he was borne : he was much more admired abrode
then at home.
JOHN AUBREY
Brief Lives : John Milton (c. 1680)
54
BY ALL THE WORLD
March 5, 1668. I began our defence most acceptably and
smoothly, and continued at it without any hesitation or
loss, but with full scope, and all my reason free about me,
as if it had been at my own table ... till past three in the
afternoon ; and so ended, without any interruption from
the Speaker. . . . And all the world that was within hearing
did congratulate me, and cry up my speech as the best
thing they ever heard ; and my Fellow Officers overjoyed
in it ... and everybody says I have got the most honour
that any could have had the opportunity of getting.
March 6. Up betimes, and ... to Sir W. Coventry's
chamber ; where the first word he said to me was, " Good-
morrow, Mr Pepys, that must be Speaker of the Parlia-
ment-house : " and did protest I had got honour for ever
in Parliament. He said that his brother, that sat by him,
admires me ; and another gentleman said that I could not
get less than £1,000 a year if I would put on a gown and
plead at the Chancery-bar ; but, what pleased me most,
he tells me that the Sollicitor-Generall did protest that
he thought I spoke the best of any man in England. ... I
to the Duke of York's lodgings . . . and, as soon as he saw
me, he told me, with great satisfaction that I had con-
verted a great many yesterday, and did, with great praise
of me, go on the discourse with me. And, by and by, over-
taking the King, the King and Duke of York come to me
both ; and he said, " Mr Pepys, I am very glad of your suc-
cess yesterday ; " and fell to talk of my well speaking, and
many of the Lords there. My Lord Barkeley did cry me
up for what they had heard of it ; and others, Parliament-
men there, about the King, did say that they never heard
55
such a speech in their lives delivered in that manner.
Progers, of the Bedchamber, swore to me ... that he did
tell the King that he thought I might teach the Solicitor-
General. Everybody that saw me almost come to me, as
Joseph Williamson and others, with such eulogy as cannot
be expressed. From thence I went to Westminster Hall,
where I met Mr G. Montagu, who come to me and kissed
me, and told me that he had often heretofore kissed my
hands, but now he would kiss my lips : protesting that I
was another Cicero, and said all the world said the same of
me. ... Every creature I met there of the Parliament, or
that knew anything of the Parliament's actings, did salute
me with this honour : . . . Mr Sands, who swore he would
go twenty mile, at any time, to hear the like again, and
that he never saw so many sit four hours together to hear
any man in his life. . . . Mr Chichly, — Sir John Duncomb,
— and everybody do say that the kingdom will ring of my
abilities, and that I have done myself right for my whole
life : and so Captain Cooke, and others of my friends,
say that no man had ever such an opportunity of making
his abilities known ; . . . Mr Lieutenant of the Tower did
tell me that Mr Vaughan did protest to him . . , that he
had sat twenty-six years in Parliament and never heard
such a speech there before : for which the Lord God
make me thankful ! and that I may make use of it not to
pride and vain-glory, but that, now I have this esteem, I
may do nothing that may lessen it ! I spent the morning
thus walking in the Hall, being complimented by every-
body with admiration : . . . and after dinner with Sir W.
Pen, who come to my house to call me, to White Hall, to
wait on the Duke of York, where he again and all the com-
pany magnified me, and several in the Gallery : among
others my Lord Gerard, who never knew me before or
56
spoke to me, desires his being better acquainted with me ;
and that, at table where he was, he never heard so much
said of any man as of me, in his whole life.
March 8. (Lord's Day). Sir J. Robinson, Lieutenant of
the Tower, did call me with his coach, and carried me to
White Hall, where met with very many people still that
did congratulate my speech the other day in the House
of Commons, and I find the world almost rings of it.
SAMUEL PEPYS
Diary (March, 1668)
BY A WOODEN FIGURE
Who would believe the proud Person I am going to speak
of, is a Cobler upon Ludgate-Hill ? This Artist being
naturally a Lover of Respect, and considering that no Man
living will give it him, has contrived the Figure of a Beau
in Wood, who stands before him in a bending Posture,
with his Hat under his Left Arm, and his Right Hand
extended in such a Manner as to hold a Thread, a Piece
of Wax, or an Awl, according to the particular Service in
which his Master thinks fit to employ him. When I saw
him, he held a Candle in this obsequious Posture. I was
very well pleased with the Cobler's Invention, that had
so ingeniously contrived an Inferior, and stood a little
while contemplating this inverted Idolatry, wherein the
Image did Homage to the Man.
RICHARD STEELE
Lucubrations of Isaac Bickcrstaff
Tatler, No. 127 (1709)
57
DRIVES PEOPLE MAD
If there was an Occasion for the Experiment, I would not
question to make a proud Man a Lunatick in three Weeks
Time, provided I had it in my Power to ripen his Phrensy
with proper Applications. . . . When I was in France (the
Region of Complaisance and Vanity) I have often observ-
ed, That a great Man who has entered a Levy of Flatterers
humble and temperate, has grown so insensibly heated by
the Court which was paid him on all sides, that he has
been quite distracted before he could get into his Coach.
Ibid.
BY FOREIGN AMBASSADORS
A foreign minister of no very high talents, who had been
in his company for a considerable time quite overlooked,
happened luckily to mention that he had read some of his
Rambler in Italian, and admired it much. This pleased him
greatly ; . . . and finding that this minister gave such a
proof of his taste, he was all attention to him, and on the
first remark which he made, however simple, exclaimed,
" The Ambassador says well ; — his Excellency observes — "
And then he expanded and enriched the little that had
been said in so strong a manner that it appeared something
of consequence. This was exceedingly entertaining to the
company who were present. ..." The Ambassador says
well" became a laughable term of applause, when no
mighty matter had been expressed.
& J ^ JAMES BOSWELL
Life of Johnson (1791)
58
BY ANY ONE
BOSWELL : cc No quality will get a man more friends than a
disposition to admire the qualities of others. I do not mean
flattery, but a sincere admiration." JOHNSON : cc Nay, Sir,
flattery pleases very generally. In the first place, the
flatterer may think what he says to be true : but in the
second place, whether he thinks so or not, he certainly
thinks those whom he flatters of consequence enough to
be flattered."
Ibid.
BEING SENT DOWN
AGREEABLE EXILE
I am in that city which the Thames washes with its flowing
waters ; I am detained, and not unwillingly, in my delight-
ful home. I have now no anxiety to revisit the reedy Cam,
nor does desire for my rooms there, which have been for
some time denied me, trouble me. Bare fields, that refuse
pleasant shade, don't please me ; how ill that place suits
the disciples of Phoebus ! I don't care to put up continu-
ally with the threats of a harsh master, and the other
59
things that my nature won't endure. If it be exile to be in
one's father's home, and, free from worries, to pursue
the pleasures of leisure, then I don't refuse the name, nor
yet the state, of exile ; I enjoy its conditions cheerfully.
Would that the lamenting poet who was exiled in Tomi
had never endured anything worse. . . . For here I can
give free time to the gentle Muses, and books, which are
my very life, seize me wholly. From these, when I am
tired, the spectacle of the rounded theatre summons me,
and the garrulous stage calls me to applause, whether it be
the sagacious old man who is on the boards, or the prodi-
gal heir, or the suitor, or the soldier with his helmet laid
aside, or whether the advocate, enriched by a ten-years'
law-suit, thunders out his barbarous words to an ignorant
court, or (as often) the cunning servant is aiding the lover
son, and tricking the nose of the hard father — Or furious
Tragedy shakes her bloody sceptre, and rolls her eyes, with
wild locks, and it is painful to look, yet I look, and in
looking find pleasure while it pains me, for sometimes
there is sweet bitterness in tears. . . .
But I do not always hide indoors, nor in the city, nor
does the spring pass by me unused. I go also to a grove
near by, planted with elms, and to the noble shade of a
suburb. Here very often you may see troops of virgins go
by, stars breathing forth enticing flames. Ah, how often
have I been astounded by some marvellous figure, which
might even rejuvenate the old age of Jupiter ! Ah, how
often have I seen eyes that surpassed jewels and whatever
stars revolve about either pole ; and necks more ivory than
the arms of twice-living Pelops, or than the way which
flows with pure nectar ; and extraordinary beauty of fore-
head, and shaking locks, the golden nets which treacher-
ous Love spreads. And seductive cheeks, compared with
60
which the hyacinth's purple and the blush of your own
flower. Adonis, seem contemptible. Yield, you often
praised heroines of old, and whatever mistress ever
captured wandering Jove ! Yield, you Persian girls with
turbaned brows, and you who dwell in Susa and Memno-
nian Nineveh ! And you too, nymphs of Greece, lower
your fasces, and you, young matrons of Troy and of
Rome. . . . The first glory is due to British maidens ;
enough for you, foreign women, to follow them. You,
London, the city built by Trojan colonists, seen far and
wide by your towered head, you enclose (too happy !)
within your walls whatever beauty the pendulous earth
holds. The stars that sparkle over you in the clear sky,
the ministering host of Endymion's goddess, are not so
many as the girls who, conspicuous in person and gold,
shine in a troop through your streets. . . .
But I, while the indulgence of the blind boy yet allows
it, am preparing to leave these happy walls as soon as
possible, and, using the help of the divine moly, to flee
far from the ignominy of the treacherous Circe. Besides,
it is fixed that I go back to the reedy marshes of the Cam,
and to the noise of the raucous school again.
JOHN MILTON
Elegia Prima ad Carolum Diodatum (1626)
(Trans, from Latin Elegiacs)
61
BELLS
ON THE ROAD TO OXFORD
Famous rings of bells in Oxfordshire called the Crosse-ring
He travelleth to Tames ; where passing by those Townes
Of that rich Country neere, whereas the mirthful clownes
With Taber and the pipe, on holydayes doe use,
Upon the May-pole Greene, to trample out their shooes :
And having in his eares the deepe and solemne rings
Which sound him all the way, unto the learned Springs.
MICHAEL DRAYTON
Poly-Olbion. Song XV (1613)
GREAT TOM
Bee dum ye infant chimes, thump not the mettle
That nere outrung a tinker and his kettle.
Cease all your petty larums, for to day
Is yonge Tom's resurrection from the clay.
And know when Tom shal ring his loudest knells
The big'st of you'll be thought but Dinner Bells.
62
Rejoyce with Christ Church — look higher Oseney,
Of Gyante Bells the famous treasury ;
The base vast thunderinge Clocke of Westminster,
Grave Tom of Linconne — Hugh Excester —
Are but Tom's eldest Brothers, and perchance
Hee may cal cozen with the bell of Ffrance.
RICHARD CORBET
Oxford Great Tom (1612)
Oh the bonny Christchurch Bells,
i> 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 ;
They sound so wond'rous great
So woundy sweet,
And they trowl so merrily, merrily,
Oh ! the first and second Bell,
That every day at Four and Ten,
Cry, Come, come, come, come, come to Pray'rs ;
And the Virger troops before the Dean.
Tinkle, tinkle, ting, goes the small Bell at Nine,
To call the Beerers home ;
But the Dev'l a man ;
Will leave his Can,
'Till he hears the mighty Tom.
HENRY ALDRICH
Christchurch Bells (1673)
ENCHANTING MELODY
What Musick is there that compar'd may be
To well-tun'd Bells enchanting melody !
FABIAN STEDMAN
Tintinnalogia (Edition 1671)
63
CATCHING ANIMALS
TIGER CUBS
They diligently seek out the caves and dens of the Tigers
where their young ones are lodged, and then upon some
swift horses they take and carry them away : when the
female Tiger returneth and findeth her den empty, in rage
she followeth after them by the foot, whom she quickly
overtaketh, by reason of her celerity. . . . For this occasion,
the Hunters do devise certain round spheres of glass,
wherein they picture the young ones very apparent to be
seen by the dam ; one of these they cast down before her
at her approach ; she looking upon it is deluded, and
thinketh that her young ones are enclosed therein, and the
rather, because through the roundness thereof it is apt
to rowl and stir at every touch, this she driveth along back-
wards to her den, and there breaketh it with her feet and
nails, and so, seeing she that she is deceived, returneth
back again after the Hunters for her true Whelps ;
whilest they in the mean season are safely harbored in
some house, or else gone on some shipboard.
EDWARD TOPSELL
History of Four- Footed Beasts and Serpents (1607)
UNICORNS
It is said that Unicorns above all other creatures do rever-
ence Virgins and young Maids, and that many times at the
sight of them they grow tame, and come and sleep beside
them, for there is in their nature a certain savour, where-
withal the Unicorns are allured and delighted : for which
occasion the Indian and Ethiopian hunters use this
stratagem to take the beast. They take a goodly strong and
beautiful young man, whom they dress in the apparel of a
woman, besetting him with divers odoriferous flowers and
spices.
The man so adorned, they set in the Mountains or
Woods where the Unicorn hunteth, so as the winde may
carry the savour to the beast, and in the mean season the
other Hunters hide themselves : the Unicorn deceived
with the outward shape of a woman and sweet smells,
cometh unto the young man without fear, and so suffereth
his head to be covered and wrapped within his large
sleeves, never stirring but lying still and asleep, as in his
most acceptable repose. Then when the Hunters by the sign
of the young man perceive him fast and secure, they come-
upon him, and by force cut off his horn, and send him
away alive : but concerning this opinion we have no elder
authority than Tzetzes,* who did not live above five
hundred years ago, and therefore I leave the Reader to the
freedom of his own judgment, to believe or refuse this
relation ; neither was it fit that I should omit it, seeing
that all Writers since the time of Tzetzes do most con-
stantly believe it.
Ibid.
* Topsell was, of course, wrong here j unicorns had been snared
by virgins at least since the 2nd century A.D.
CP 65
BEARS
Ofte Bees gather honie in hollowe trees, and the Beare
findeth honie by smell, and goeth up to the place that the
honie is in, and maketh a waye into the Tree with his
clawes, and draweth out the honie and eateth it, and
commeth ofte by custome unto such a place, when he is
an hungred : And the Hunter taketh heed thereof . . . and
hangeth craftely a right heavie hammer or wedge before
the open way to the honie, then the Bear commeth and is
an hungred, and the logge that hangeth ther on high
letteth him : and he putteth awaye the wedge with vio-
lence, but after the removing, the wedge falleth againe and
hitteth him on the eare, and he hath indignation thereof,
and putteth away the wedge fiercely, and then the wedge
falleth and smiteth him harder than it did before ; and he
striveth so long with the wedge, untill his feeble head
doth fayl by oft smiting of the wedge, and then he falleth
downe . . . and slayeth himselfe in that wise. Theophrastus
telleth this manner Hunting of Beares, and learned it of
the Hunters in the country of Germanie.
BARTHOLOMEW ANGLICUS
De Proprietatibus Rerum (c. 1240)
Trans. John Trevisa (1398, modernised 1582)
DRAGONS
Now the manner how the Indians kill the Mountain Drag-
ons is thus : they take a garment of Scarlet^ and picture
upon it a charm in golden letters, this they lay upon the
66
mouth of the Dragon's den, for with the red colour and
the gold, the eyes of the Dragon are overcome, and he
falleth asleep, the Indians in the mean season watching,
and muttering secretly words of Incantation ; when they
perceive he is fast asleep, suddenly they strike off his neck
with an Ax, and so take out the balls of his eyes, wherein
are lodged those rare and precious stones which contain in
them vertues unutterable, as hath been evidently proved
by one of them, that was included in the Ring of Gyges. . . .
As for the flesh, it is of a vitrial or glassie colour, and the
Ethiopians do eat it very greedily, for they say it hath in it
a refrigerative power. And there be some which by certain
inchanting verses do tame Dragons, and rideth upon their
necks, as a man would ride upon a Horse, guiding and
governing them with a bridle.
EDWARD TOPSELL
History of Four-Footed Beasts and Serpents (1607)
ELEPHANTS
When they be taken, they are made tame and mild with
Barley : and a cave or ditche is made under the earth, as it
were a pitfall in the elephaunt's waye, and unawares he fall-
eth therein. And then one of the hunters commeth to him
and beateth and smite th him, and pricketh him full sore.
And then another hunter cometh and smiteth the first hun-
ter and doth him away, and defendeth the elephaunt, and
giveth him Barley to eate, and when he hath eaten thrice or
foure times, then he loveth him that defendeth him, and
is afterward milde and obedient to him. . . . Elephants lie
never downe in sleeping ; but when they be wearye they
6?
leane to a tree and so rest somewhat. And men lye in a waite
to aspy their resting places prively, for to cut the tree in
the other side : and the Elephaunt commeth and is not ware
of the fraud, and leaneth to the tree and breaketh it with
the weight of his body, and falleth do wne with the breaking,
and lieth there.
BARTHOLOMEW ANGLICUS
De Proprietatibus Rerum (c. 1240)
Trans. John Trevisa (1398, modernised 1582)
APES
All the kinde of these Apes approch neerest of all beasts to
the resemblance of a mans shape, but they differ one from
another in the taile. Marvellous crafty and subtill they be
to beguile themselves : for by report, as they see hunters
doe before them, they will imitate them in every point,
even to besmear themselves with glew and birdlime, and
shoo their feet between gins and snares, and by that means
are caught.
PLINY THE ELDER
Natural History (c. 77)
Trans. Philemon Holland (1601)
CROCODILES
It hath been seldom seen that Crocodiles were taken, yet it
is said that men hunt them in the waters, for Pliny saith,
that there is an assured pers wasion, that with the gal and fat
of a Water-adder, men are wonderfully holpen, and as it
were armed against Crocodiles, and by it enabled to take and
68
destroy them, especially when they carry also about them
the herb Potamegeton. There is also akinde of thorny wilde
Bean growing in Egypt, which hath many sharp prickles
upon the stalks, this is a great terrour to the Crocodile,
for he is in great dread of his eyes, which are very tender
and easie to be wounded. Therefore he avoideth their
sight, being more unwilling to adventure upon a man that
beareth them, or one of them, than he is to adventure
upon a man in compleat Armour, and therefore all the
people plant great store of these, and also bear them in
their hands when they travail. . . .
Peter Martyr hath also other means of taking Crocodiles.
Their nature is, that when they goe to the land to forrage
and seek after a prey, they cannot return back again but by
the same footsteps of their own which they left imprinted
in the sand : wherefrom, when the Countrey people
perceive their footsteps, instantly with all the hast they
can make, they come with spades and mattocks and make a
great ditch, and with boughs cover the same, so as the
Serpent may not espy it, and upon the boughs they also
again lay sand to avoid all occasion of deceit and suspicion
of fraud at his return : then when all things are thus
prepared, they hunt the Crocodile by the foot untill they
findehim, then with noises of bells, pans, kettels, and such
like things, they terrific and make him return as fast as fear
can make him run towards the waters again, and they fol-
low him as near as they can, until he falleth into the ditch,
where they all come about him and kill him . . . and so
being slain, they carry him to the great City Cair, where
for their reward they receive ten pieces of gold. . . .
We do read that Crocodiles have been taken and brought
alive to Rome. The first that ever brought them thither
was Marcus Scaurus, who in the games of his aedility,
69
brought five forth and shewed them to the people in a
great pond of water (which he had provided only for that
time) and afterward Heliogabalus and Antoninus Pius.
EDWARD TOPSELL
History of Four-footed Beasts and Serpents (1607)
TURTLES
There be found Tortoises in the Indian sea so great, that
one only shel of them is sufficient for the roofe of a
dwelling house. And among the Islands, principally in the
red sea, they use Tortoise shells ordinarily for boats and
wherries upon the water.
Many waies the fisher-men have to catch them ; but
especially in this manner : They use in the mornings, when
the weather is calm and still, to flote aloft upon the water,
with their backs to be seen all over : and then they take such
pleasure in breathing freely and at libertie, that they forget
themselves altogether : insomuch as their shell in this
time is so hardened and baked with the sun, that when they
would they cannot dive and sinke under the water againe,
but are forced against their wills to flote above, and by that
meanes are exposed as a prey unto the fishermen. Some
say that they go forth in the night to land for to feed,
where, with eating greedily, they be wearie ; so that in the
morning, when they are returned again, they fall soon
asleep above the water, and keepe such a snorting and
routing in their sleepe, that they bewray where they be,
and so are easily taken : and yet there must be three men
about every one of them : and when they have sworn unto
the Tortoise, two of them turne him upon his backe, the
70
third casts a cord or halter about him, as hee lyeth with
his belly upward and then is he haled by many more
together, to the land. PLINY THE £LDER
Natural History (c. 77)
Trans. Philemon Holland (1601)
COCKATRICES
It is a question whether the Cockatrice dye by the sight of
himself: some have affirmed so much, but I dare not
subscribe thereunto, because in reason it is unpossible
that any thing should hurt it self, that hurteth not another
of his own kinde ; yet if in the secret of nature GOD have
ordained such a thing, I will not strive against them that
can shew it.
... I cannot without laughing remember the old Wives
tales of the Vulgar Cockatrices that have been in England,
for I have oftentimes heard it related confidently, that
once our Nation was full of Cockatrices, and that a certain
man did destroy them by going up and down in Glasse,
whereby their own shapes were reflected upon their own
faces, and so they dyed. EDWARD TOPSELL
History of Four-footed Beasts and Serpents (1607)
SATYRS
Yet said Apollonius, there is a remedy to quail these
wanton leaping beasts, which men say Midas used (for
Midas was of kindred to Satyres, as appeared by his ears) .
71
This Midas heard his mother say that Satyres loved to be
drunk with wine and then sleep soundly, and after that
be so moderate, mild and gentle, that a man would think
they had lost their first nature.
Whereupon he put wine into a fountain neer the high-
way, whereof when the Satyre had tasted he waxed meek
suddenly, and was overcome.
PLINY THE ELDER
Natural History (c. 77)
Trans. Philemon Holland (1601)
MULLETS
In Languedoc within the province of Narbon . . . there is a
standing poole or dead water called Laterra, wherein men
and Dolphins together, use to fish : for at one certain time
of the yeare, an infinite number of fishes called Mullets,
taking the vantage of the tide when the water doth ebbe at
certain narrow weares and passages, with great force break
forth of the said poole into the sea : and by reason of that
violence no nets can be set and pitched against them strong
enough to abide and beare their huge weight and the streame
of the water together, if so be men were not cunning and
craftie to wait and espie their time to lay for them and to
entrap them. . . . The fisher men being ware thereof , and all
the people besides (for the multitude knowing when fish-
ing-time is come, run thither, and the rather for to see the
pleasant sport) crie as lowd as ever they can to the Dol-
phins for aid, and call Simo, Simo, to help to make an end
of this their game and pastime of fishing. The Dolphins
soon get the eare of their crie, and know what they would
72
have, and the better if the North- winds blow and carrie the
sound unto them. . . . The Dolphins resort thither flock-
meale, sooner than a man would thinke, for to assist them
in their fishing. And a wondrous pleasant sight it is to
behold the squadrons as it were of those Dolphins, how
quickly they take their places and be arranged in battell
array even against the very mouth of the said poole, where
the Mullets use to shoote into the sea : to sec (I say) how
from the sea they oppose themselves and fight against them,
and drive the Mullets (once affrighted and skared) upon
the shelves. Then come the fishers and beset them with net
and toile . . . howbeit for all that the Mullets are so quick
and nimble, that a number of them whip over, get away,
and escape the nets. But the Dolphins then are readie to
receive them. . . . And so the conflict being ended, and all
the fishing sport done . . . the Dolphins retire not presently
into the deepe againe, but stay until the morrow, as if they
knew very well that they had so carried themselves, as
that they deserved a better reward than one daies refection
and victuals : and therefore contented they are not and satis-
fied, unlesse to their fish they have some sops and crums of
bread given them soaked in wine, and that their bellies
full. Mutianus makes mention of the semblable manner of
fishing in the gulfe of lassos ; but herein is the difference,
for that the Dolphins come of their own accord without
calling, take their part of the bootie at the fishers' hands ;
and every boat hath a Dolphin attending upon it as a
companion, although it be in the night season and at torch
light.
PLINY THE ELDER
Natural History (c. 77)
Trans. Philemon Holland (1601)
73
The Mullets have a natural! ridiculous qualitie by them-
selves, to be laughed at : for when they be afraid to be
caught, they wil hide their head, and then they think they
be sure enough, weening that all their body is likewise
hidden. These Mullets neverthelesse are so lecherous,
that in the season when they use to ingender, in the coasts
of Phoenice and Languedock, if they take a milter out of
their stews or pooles where they use to keep them, and draw
a long string or line through the mouth and gils, and so
tie it fast, and then put him into the sea, holding the other
end of the line still in their hands, if they pull him again
unto them, they shal have a number of spawners or femals
follow him hard at taile to the bank side. Semblably, if a
man do the same with a female in spawning time, hee
shall have as many milters follow after her. And in this
manner they take an infinite number of Mullets.
Ibid.
HARES
The man whose vacant mind prepares him for the sport,
The Hare- The Finder sendeth out, to seeke out nimble Wat.
Finder
Which crosseth in the field, each furlong, every Flat,
Till he this pretty Beast upon the Forme hath found,
j^en viewing for the Course, which is the fairest ground,
^he Greyhounds foorth are brought, for coursing then in
case,
And choycely in the Slip, OLC leading forth a brace :
The Finder purs her up, and gives her Coursers law.
And whilst the eager dogs upon the Start doc draw,
74
Shee riseth from her seat, as though on earth she flew,
Forc'd by some yelping Cute to give the Greyhounds view, A curre
Which are at length let slip, when gunning out they goe,
As in respect of them the swiftest wind were slow.
When each man runnes his Horse, with fixed eyes, and notes
Which Dog first turnes the Hare, which first the other when one
Greyhound
COatS . . . outstr'ps
, ~ ... ,, , , , the other in
And turne for turne agame with equall speed they ply, the Course
Bestirring their swift feet with strange agilitie :
MICHAEL DRAYTON
Poly-Olbion. Song XXIII (1622)
HARES
Starrs Enamour'd with Pastimes Olympicall,
Starrs and Planets that beautifull shone ;
Would no longer that earthly men only shall
Swim in pleasure, and they but look on.
Round about horned Lucina they stormed,
And her informed how minded they were ;
Each God and Goddesse, to take humane bodyes,
As Lords and Ladies> to follow the Hare.
Chast Diana applauded the Motion,
And pale Proserpina, set in her place,
Lights the Welkin, and governs the Ocean,
While she conducted her Nephewes in chace,
75
And by her Example, her Father to trample
The old and ample earth, leave the aire,
Neptune the Water, the Wine Liber Pater.,
And Mars the slaughter, to follow the Hare.
Light god Cupid was hors'd upon Pegasus,
Borrow'd of Muses with kisses and prayers,
Strong Alcides upon cloudy Caucasus.,
Mounts a Centaure that proudly him beares.
Postillian of the skye, light heePd Mercury,
Makes his Courser fly fleet as the aire,
Yellow Apollo, the Kennel doth follow,
With whoop and hollow after the hare.
Hymen ushers the ladies ; Astraea
The Just, took hands with Minerva the bold ;
Ceres the brown, with bright Cytherea,
With Thetis the wanton, Bdlona the old ;
Shamefac't Aurora, with subtil Pandora ;
And May with Flora, did company beare ;
Juno was stated, too high to be mated,
But yet she hated not hunting the hare.
Drown5 d Narcissus, from his Metamorphosis,
Rais'd by Eccho, new manhood did take ;
Snoring Somnis upstarted Cineris,
That this thousand year was not awake.
To see club-footed old Mulciber booted,
And Pan promoted on Chirons Mare ;
Proud Faunus pouted, and Aeolus shouted,
And Momus flouted, but follow'd the Hare.
76
Deep Melompus and cunning Ichnobates,
Nape and Tigre, and Harpyre, the Skyes
Rend wit roaring, whilst huntsman-like Hercules
Winds the plentifull home to their crycs,
Till with varieties,, to solace their Pieties.,
The weary Deities repos'd them where
We shepheards were seated, and there we repeated,
What we conceited of their hunting the Hare.
Young Amintas suppos'd the Gods came to breath
(After some battels) themselves on the ground,
Thirsts thought the Starrs came to dwell here beneath,
And that hereafter the earth would go round,
Coridon aged, with Phillis ingaged,
Was much inraged with jealous despaire ;
But fury vaded, and he was perswaded,
When I thus applauded the hunting the Hare.
Starr's but Shadows were, State w^ere but sorrow,
Had they no Motion, nor that no delight ;
Joyes are Jovial, delight is the marrow
Of life, and Action the Axle of might.
Pleasure depends upon no other friends,
And yet freely lends to each vertue a share ;
Only as measures, the Jewell of pleasures,
Of pleasure the treasures of hunting the Hare.
Three broad Bowles to the Olympical Rector,
His Troy borne Eagle he brings on his knee,
Jove to Phoebus carowses in Nector,
And he to Hermes, and Hermes to me ;
77
Wherewith infused, I pip'd and I mused,
In songs unused this sport to declare ;
And that the Rouse of Jove, round as his Sphere may
move.
Health to all that love hunting the hare.
ANON
The hunting of the Gods
(Westminster Drollery, 1672)
FOXES
I could have set them right on several subjects, Sir ; for
instance, the gentleman who said he could not imagine
how any pleasure could be derived from hunting, — the
reason is, because man feels his own vacuity less in action
than when at rest.
JAMES BOSWELL
Life of Johnson (Croker's ed. 1831)
He certainly rode on Mr Thrale's old hunter with a
good firmness, and though he would follow the hounds
fifty miles on end sometimes, would never own himself
either tired or amused. " I have now learned," (said he)
" by hunting, to perceive, that it is no diversion at all, nor
ever takes a man out of himself for a moment ; the dogs
have less sagacity than I could have prevailed on myself
to suppose ; and the gentlemen often call to me not to ride
over them. It is very strange, and very melancholy that
the paucity of human pleasures should persuade us ever
to call hunting one of them."
HESTHER LYNCH PIOZZI
Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson (1786)
78
BOARS
I know not love (quoth he) nor will not know it.
Unless it be a boare, and then I chase it. ...
Thou hadst been gone (quoth she) sweet boy ere this,
But that thou toldest me thou wouldst hunt the boare.
O be advis'd, thou knowest not what it is
With Javelines poynt a churlish swine to goare,
Whose tushes never sheath'd he whetteth still,
Like to a mortall butcher, bent to kill. . . .
But if thou needs will hunt, be rul'd by mee,
Uncouple at the timorous flying Hare,
Or at the fox, which lives by subtilty,
Or at the Roe, which no encounter dare :
Pursue these fearefull creatures o're the downs,
And on they well-breath'd horse keepe with thy
hounds.
W. SHAKESPEARE
Venus and Adonis (1593. Edition 1607)
DUCKS
To take such wilde duckes as are about your pondes to
make them tame, you must cast the lees of wine or red
wine in that verie place of the pond side, where you have
accustomed to cast them meat of wine and corne, with
leaven and flower tempered together, and you shall take
79
them when you see them drunke. Or else to take of the
roote and seed of Henbane a good quantitie, and lay it to
steepe in a basen full of water a whole day and a night ;
afterward put thereinto wheat, and boile all together untill
the said corne be well steept and swelled., . . . the wilde
duckes will runne unto it, and as soone as they shall have
eaten it they will fall downe all astonished and giddie.
CHARLES ESTIENNE
La Maison Rustique (1572)
Trans. Richard Surflet (1600)
BIRDS
The Greeke Emperours began it, and now nothing so
frequent : he is no body, that in the season hath not a
Hawke on his fist. A great Art, and many bookes written
of it.
ROBERT BURTON
The Anatomy of Melancholy
(1621. Edition 1632)
BUTTERFLIES
The Persian Kings hawke after Butterflies with sparrowes.
Ibid.
80
MOLES
Take a live one in March, and put the same into a verie
deepe and hollow bason at night after sunne set. Burie
the said bason in the earth up to the brims, that so the
moules may easily tumble into it, when they heare the
captive crie in the night time. For all such as shall heare
her (and this kind of cattell is of a verie light hearing)
comming neer to their food, they will into the bason one
after another ; and by how many moe go in, by so much
will they make the greater noise (not one being able to
get out againe) because the bason within is smooth, slike,
and slipperie.
CHARLES ESTIENNE
La Maison Rustique (1572)
Trans. Richard Surflet (1600)
JACKDAWS
At Oxford Mr T. H. used, in the summer time especially,
to rise very early in the morning, and would tye the leaden-
counters (which they used in those dayes at Christmas,
at post and payre) with pacthreds, which he did besmere
with birdlime, and bayte them with parings of cheese, and
the jack-dawes would spye them a vast distance up in the
aire, and as far as Osney-abbey, and strike at the bayte,
and so be harled in the string, which the wayte of the
counter would make cling about ther wings.
JOHN AUBREY
Brief Lives. Thomas Hobbes (c. 1680)
81
FISHES
Many Gentlemen . . . will wade up to the Arme-holes
upon such occasions, and voluntarily undertake that, to
satisfie their pleasure, which a poor man for a good stipend
would scarce be hired to undergoe. . . . Hawking and hunt-
ing are very laborious, much riding and many dangers ac-
company them ; but this is still and quiet : and if so be the
angler catch no Fish, yet he hath a wholesome walk to the
Brooke side, pleasant shade by the sweet silver streames ;
he hath good Aire, and the melodious harmony of Birds ;
hee sees the swannes, herons, ducks, water-hens, cootes,
&c. and many other fowle with their brood, which he
thinketh better than the noise of Hounds, or blast of
Homes, and all the sport that they can make.
ROBERT BURTON
The Anatomy of Melancholy (1621. Edition 1632)
Fisherman's Art
O Sir, doubt not but that Angling is an Art, and an Art
worth your learning : The question is rather whether you
be capable of learning it; for Angling is something like
Poetry, men are to be born so ; I mean with inclinations
to it, though both may be heightened by practice and exper-
iment, but he that hopes to be a good Angler must not
onely bring an inquiring, searching, observing wit, but
he must bring a large measure of hope and patience, and a
love and propensity to the Art it self; but having once got
and practis'd it, then doubt not but Angling will prove to
82
be so pleasant, that it will prove like Vertue, a reward to
it selfe. . . .
He that views the ancient Ecclesiastical Canons, shall
find Hunting to be forbidden to Church-men, as being
a toilsom, perplexing Recreation, and shall find angling
allowed to Clergy-men, as being a harmlesse Recreation,
that invites them to contemplation and quietness. . . .
IZAAK WALTON
The Compleat Angler (1653)
Fisherwomarfs Luck
The Fishes in the Flood,
when she doth Angle,
For the Hooke strive a good
them to entangle,
And leaping on the Land
from the cleare water
Their scales upon the sand
lavishly scatter.
MICHAEL DRAYTON
The Shepheards Sirena (1627)
Chubs
Have with you (Sir !) on my word I have him. Oh it is
a great logger-headed Chub. Come, hang him upon that
willow twig, and lets be going. But turn out of the way a
83
little, good Scholer, towards yonder high hedg ; we'll sit
whilst the shower falls upon the teeming earth, and gives
a sweeter smell to the lovely flowers that adorn the verdant
medowes.
IZAAK WALTON
The Compleat Angler (1653)
OTTERS
VENATOR : Now, now Ringwood has him. Come bring him
to me. Look, 'tis a Bitch Otter -, and she has lately whelp'd,
let's go to the place where she was put down, and not far
from it you will find all her young ones, I dare warrant
you, and kil them all too.
HUNTSMAN : Come gentlemen, come all, lets go to the
place where we put down the Otter. Look you, hereabout
it was she kenell'd, look you, here it was indeed, for her's
her young ones, no less then five ; come lets kill them all.
PISCATOR : No, I pray Sir, save me one, and I'le try if I
can make her tame, as I know an ingenious Gentleman
in Leicester-shire (Mr Nich. Seagrave) has done ; who hath
not onely made her tame, but to catch fish, and do many
things of much pleasure.
HUNTSMAN : Take one with all my heart ; but let us kill
the rest. And now lets go to an honest Alehouse, where
we may have a cup of good barley wine and sing Old Rose,,
and all of us rejoyce together.
Ibid.
84
FLEAS
Vex'd with a Thousand Pigmy friends, and such
As dare not stand the onset of a touch.
Strange kind of Combatants, whose Conquest lies
In nimbly skipping from their Enemies,
While these., with eager fiercenesse, lay about
To catch the thing they faine would be without.
These sable furies bravely venture on,
But when I 'gin t'oppose them, whip, th'are gone.
Doubtlesse I think each is a Magick Dauncer,
Bred up by some infernall Necromauncer,
But that I doe believe none e'er scarce knew
(Mongst all their spirits) such a damned crew.
SIR JOHN MENNIS (?)
Musarum Deliciae (1655)
FLIES
Domitian the Emperour was much delighted with catching
ROBERT BURTON
The Anatomy of Melancholy (1621. Edition 1632)
PRACTICALLY ANYTHING
What pleasure doth man take in hunting the stately Stag,
the generous Buck, the Wild Boar, the cunning Otter, the
crafty Fox, and the fearful Hare. And if I may descend to
a lower Game, what pleasure is it sometimes with gins to
betray the very Vermin of the earth, as namely the Picket,
85
the Fulimart, the Feret, the Pole-cat, the Mould-warp, and
the like creatures that live upon the face and within the
bowels of the Earth. . . .
Hunting is a Game for Princes and noble persons ; it
hath been highly prized in all ages. Hunting trains up
the younger Nobility to the use of manly exercises.
IZAAK WALTON
The Compleat Angler (1653)
Eusebius is of opinion, that wilde beasts were of purpose
created by God, that men by chasing and encountring
them, might be fitted and enabled for warlike exercises.
HENRY PEACHAM
The Compleat Gentleman (1622)
CELESTIAL
A RASH ATTEMPT
Who would ever have believed that man could voyage
the paths of the air ? He arranges in a row feathers, the
oars of birds, and binds together the light structure with
flax cords ; the lower part is bound together with wax
melted by fire, and now the labour of this remarkable piece
of work was finished. The boy, laughing, handled the
feathers and wax, ignorant that the implements were pre-
pared for his own shoulders. To whom said his father,
86
" It is with these ships that we must go to our own coun-
try ; with this contraption we must flee from Minos. . . .
But do not gaze up at the Bear, or at sworded Orion, the
comrade of Bootes ; follow me, with the wings you will
be given ; I will go in front, you take care to follow ; you
will be safe with me as guide. For if we go through the
higher air near the sun, the wax will be unable to bear
the heat ; or if we beat low wings nearer the sea, the
moving feathers will be wet with sea water. Fly between the
two ; mind the winds too, my son, and where the breezes
carry you, spread sail to them." While he admonishes, he
fits his work on to the boy, and shows him how to move,
as their mother instructs the weak birds. Then he fits to
his own shoulders the wings he has made, and nervously
launches his body on its new journey. And now, about
to fly, he gave his little son a kiss. . . . There was a
hill less than a mountain, higher than the level fields ;
from this the two take off for their ill-starred flight.
Daedalus moves his own wings, and at the same time
looks back at his son's, and keeps ever on his course. And
now the novel journey delights them, and Icarus, having
put aside fear, flies more boldly, with audacious skill. A
man catching fish on a quivering rod saw them, and his
hand dropped from the task he had begun. Now Samos
lay on their left (Naxos and Paros had been left behind,
and Delos, beloved of Apollo) ; on their right was Lebyn-
thos, and wood-shaded Calymne, and Astypalea encircled
by fishy seas ; when the boy, too rash in his incautious
years, made his way higher, and left his father. . . .
[Here this flight loses its status as a Pleasure, and must end.]
OVID
Ars Amatoria. Bk. II (c. 2 B.C.)
8?
WINGED HORSES
So from the turf outsprang two steeds jet-black.
Each with large dark blue wings upon his back.
The youth of Caria placed the lovely dame
On one, and felt himself in spleen to tame
The other's fierceness. Through the air they flew.
High as the eagles. Like two drops of dew
Exhaled to Phoebus' lips, away they are gone,
Far from the earth away, unseen, alone,
Among cool clouds and winds. . . .
JOHN KEATS
Endymion (1818)
WITCH TRANSPORT FOR HIRE
There are foure severall ways wherby this flying in the
aire, hath beene or may be attempted. ... i. By spirits
or Angels. 2. By the help of Fowls. 3. By wings fastened
immediately to the body. 4. By a flying chariot. . . . We
read of divers that have passed swiftly in the air, by the
help of spirits and Angels — Thus witches are commonly
related to passe unto their usuall meetings . . . and as they
doe sell windes unto Mariners, so likewise are they some-
times hired to carry men speedily through the open air.
Acosta affirms that such kind of passage are usuall among
divers sorcerers with the Indians at this day.
JOHN WILKINS
Mathematicall Magick (1648)
88
THE AIR BALLOON
The day being arrived on which Mr Lunardi had informed
the public . . . that he would ascend with the Air Balloon
... at a very early hour of the day, about a hundred and
fifty thousand spectators . . . assembled together at the
Artillery Ground, Moorfields, where the machine was to
be launched . . . forming together of themselves, per-
haps, one of the grandest spectacles ever seen, there being
. . . the Prince of Wales, Mr Fox, Colonel Fitzpatrick,
Lord North, Lord Robert Spenser, Colonel North, Mr
Burke, Lord Surry, Mr Sheridan, and many other persons
of distinction, and as great a display of female beauties as
ever, at any one time, feasted the eye of admiration.
The novelty of a man ascending to the clouds by the
assistance of a quantity of inflammable air, contained in
a balloon of thirty three feet diameter, was a curiosity
which this country had never beheld, and of course both
the credulous and the infidel attended. . . .
About one o'clock, Mr Lunardi and a Mr Biggins, who
intended to ascend with Mr Lunardi in the balloon,
came upon the spot. ... It was found, to the regret of all,
that the enterprising spirit of Mr Biggins must remain,
for a time at least, ungratified. The globe had not capacity
and strength enough to elevate them both. . . .
The machine mounted with slow and gradual majesty
into the air. When it had risen about the height of an
hundred feet, it descended again very low . . . but Mr
Lunardi, with great presence of mind, threw out with his
feet a large quantity of ballast from his sand bags, when
the immense machine overcame the pressure of the atmo-
sphere, disappointed the gloomy wisdom of the splenetic,
and rose with the most beautiful and even progress to the
skies. The clearness of the day, and the grandeur of the
machine, added to the novelty, made it a luxury to the
most untutored mind ; but to the philosopher and the man
of letters it was an occasion of the most rational
delight — thus to see a new element subdued by the talents
of man.
Mr Lunardi was accompanied in his aerial passage by
a couple of pigeons, a cat, and a favourite lap-dog. . . .
When the grand machine appeared superbly floating in
the newly subdued element, and the cradle containing the
bold Aerial Navigator was seen depending from it,
astonishment filled the multitude, and awful silence filled
the air,, which the next instant was in tremulation with
the most impassioned bursts of applause. . . . Mr Lunardi
appeared perfectly composed, and as the balloon went up,
bowed most gracefully, and calmly waved his flag to the
admiring and wonder-struck spectators. . . . Being evi-
dently too much encumbered, he threw it out. Soon after
one of his oars broke from the pivot, and he threw that
down also ; but . . . made use of the other occasionally to
direct his course. . . .
In about a quarter of an hour, sailing over Pall Mall at
an immense height, he met with a counter current of air,
which carried him rapidly a north easterly course, over
Highgate. . . . The globe was visible from various parts of
the town till near five o'clock, appearing then not larger
than a tennis ball, soon after which it became invisible. . . .
When Mr Lunardi had gained the utmost altitude of
his ascension, he felt so strong a propensity for sleeping,
that it was with the utmost difficulty he could keep him-
self awake ; the cold at this time became so intensely
piercing, as to render Mr Lunar di's situation in it almost
90
insupportable. . . . The cat was . . . benumbed . . . and
had not Mr Lunardi's regard for his dog led him to afford
him the warmth of his bosom, the animal would inevitably
have perished.
The prospects were grand and awful beyond the power
of imagination. . . .
The oar which dropped was dexterously caught by
Mr Season, master of the Magpye alehouse, the corner
of Mutton Lane ; one of the wings or sails . . . was taken
up by ... a servant at the Baptist's Head, St. John's Lane :
but it was seized and torn to pieces and divided among
the populace. The poor woman, with streaming eyes and
wringing hands, declared that the loss of her husband or
one of her children would scarcely have given her more
affliction than she felt at being so cruelly despoiled. . . .
After Mr Lunardi had been up ... about an hour and
a half, the thermometer stood at 35 degrees, when the
atmosphere was so cold, that icicles were upon his clothes,
and he was fearful his balloon would burst ; at this time
he drank several glasses of wine ... on throwing out some
air the thermometer rose to 50, when the atmosphere was
delightful. ... At Northaw ... he threw out his cat ...
which was taken up alive. . . .
He descended a little past five o'clock, at a place called
Colliers-end. ... It is computed that his course was at
the rate of twenty miles an hour, and that at times he was
. . . full three miles from the earth. . . .
The evening previous to his ascending in the balloon,
Mr Lunardi impelled by that common prudence every
man ought to be actuated by, and not through the impulse
of fear . . . signed his will, with a degree of composure
that strongly marked the philosopher and the Christian.
Without attempting to enquire, whether aerostatic
91
experiments have a further tendency than to amuse the
mind and gratify curiosity, the occurrence here related may
probably have an effect highly salutary both to religion
and morality. It had an extraordinary influence on the
vulgar uninformed., who had been almost unanimous in
declaring the project impracticable. Demonstration hav-
ing convinced them of their error, they will in future be
careful not obstinately to persevere in opinions hastily
and inconsiderately adopted. Having beheld the ingenuity
of man accomplish an exploit which they had not con-
ceived to be within the scope of possibility, by a natural
transition, the firmament fretted with golden fires will
become an object of their enquiry, and as often as Mr
Lunardi's achievement recurs to their recollection, ideas
connected with the Heavenly system will arise in their
minds ; and ... it may be presumed, will be a powerful
means of leading the mind of man to contemplate the
stupendous works of the creation, and consequently to
revere and venerate the great and omnipotent Author of
our being. ANON
Lunar di^s Grand Aerostatic Voyage through the Air,
containing a complete and circumstantial Account of the
Grand Aerial Flight madeby that enter prising Foreigner,
in his Air Balloon, on Sept, 15, 1784.
SUBLIME PLEASURE
The whole scene before me filled the mind with a sublime
pleasure. ... I uncorked my bottle, eat, drank, and wrote,
just as in my study. . . . The broom-sticks of the witches,
Ariostos flying-horse, even Milton's sunbeam conveying
92
the angel to the earth, have all an idea of effort . . . which
do not affect a voyage in the Balloon. Thus tranquil, and
thus situated, how shall I describe to you a view, such as
the antients supposed Jupiter to have of the earth ? . . .
At half after three o'clock, I descended in a cornfield,
on the common of South Mimms, where I landed the
cat. ... At twenty minutes past four, I descended in a
meadow. . . . Some labourers were at work in it. I requested
their assistance ; they exclaimed, they would have nothing
to do with one who came on the Devil's horse ... I at last
owed my deliverance to the spirit and generosity of a
female. A young woman . . . took hold of a cord which
I had thrown out, and calling to the men, they yielded
their assistance. . . .
The interest which the spectators took in my voyage
was so great, that the things I threw down were divided
and preserved, as our people would relicks of the most
celebrated saints. And a gentlewoman, mistaking the oar
for my person, was so affected with my supposed destruc-
tion, that she died in a few days. This circumstance being
mentioned . . . when I had the honour of dining with the
Judges ... I was very politely requested . . . not to be
concerned at the involuntary loss I had occasioned ; that
I had certainly saved the life of a young man who might
possibly be reformed and be to the public a compensation
for the loss of the lady. For the jury was deliberating on
the fate of a criminal whom . . . they must have con-
demned, when the Balloon appeared, and a general inatten-
tion and confusion ensued. The jury . . . acquitted the
criminal immediately, on which the court adjourned to
indulge itself in observing so novel a spectacle.
V. LUNARDI
Letter to Gherardo Compagni, in Naples (Sept. 24, 1784)
93
WHAT GLORY !
I went, with a light heart, to the Parliament House [Edin-
burgh] where my Balloon is exhibited, being in a happy
frame of mind for enjoying the conversation of the ladies,
no less than 200 of whom have honoured me with their
company this morning. Happy mortal ! you exclaim :
— and well you might, could you form any adequate idea
of the Scottish Beauties ! . . . Ah ! what glory to ascend
my AERIAL CHARIOT in their view ! to be the object of
their admiration ! to have all their eyes turned to me !
all their prayers and wishes breathed forth for my safety !
and to hear their united acclamations ! Oh Heaven ! my
very brain turns giddy with the thought, and my whole
soul anticipates the happy moment !
I have just received letters from three ladies, express-
ing their wishes to accompany me on my voyage. . . . How
unfortunate that the Balloon should be too small to ascend
with more than one person ! And I have not time to
enlarge it, or else —
Ibid.
(Oct. 4, 1785)
M.BLANCHARD AND M. BOBY
I took my departure from Rouen with M. Boby, at a
quarter past five. . . . While we were ascending vertically
in a majestic manner, we continually saluted the Spectators
with our flags. . . .
We found ourselves becalmed. . . . Having attentively
94
surveyed the vast expanse and contemplated the beauty of
the clouds, which rolled over each other like a tempestuous
sea, we congratulated ourselves on the occasion. . . . The
rarefied air gave M. Boby an appetite. He ate, and I fol-
lowed his example ... we drank to the health of the city of
Rouen and the Earth in general. . . .
It was now, for the first time, that we opened the Valve,
in order to descend ; it produced the desired effect. . . .
What was the astonishment of my Companion when he
perceived himself resting lightly on the tops of the leaves !
. . . Looking at me, he exclaimed with rapture, Ah, what a
majestic descent ! Observing a great number of peasants
running towards us, he expressed a desire to reascend,
as it was impossible to know their intentions. . . . The
outcries of the peasants invited our return . . . and we
accosted them about the height of one hundred feet.
. . . The most courageous contemplated us and exclaimed,
" Are you Men, or Gods ? What are you ? Make your-
selves known ! " We replied. We are men like you, and
here is a proof of it. We took off our coats, and threw them
down ; they seized on them eagerly, and began to divide
them in pieces. . . . We came lightly down on a piece of
corn, the ears of which supported us ; we floated for some
time in that situation, and nothing surely, could be more
majestic than to see us glide along the surface of it. At
last we rested upon the Earth.
JEAN PIERRE BLANCHARD
An exact Narrative of his
yd Aerial Voyage., accompanied by M.
Boby (July 18, 1784)
95
THIS PUFFED UP MACHINE
Tho' Miracles cease yet Wonders increase.
Imposition plays up her old tune,
Our old gallic Neighbours' scientifical labours
Have invented the Air Balloon.
This puff'd up Machine, most Frenchmen have seen.
And perhaps as a very great boon
Our wide gaping Isle Sir, may expect in short while
Sir,
The wonderful Air Balloon.
It will mount up on high, almost to the Sky,
You may peep if you please in the Moon :
All Mathematicians, and deep Politicians,
Admire the Air Balloon.
Should war 'gain break out, as it is not a doubt
With Some that it may happen soon,
The French will invade us, their Troops all parade
us,
Brought o'er in an Air Balloon.
96
7
Then Ships will appear, not in Water but Air,
And come in a twinkling down :
From Calais to Dover, how quick they'll be over,
Blown up with the Air Balloon.
8
Blood and Oons then, says Pat, but I can't believe that,
'Tis the tale of some hum-bugging loon :
So I say Botheration to the Frog-eating Nation,
Likewise to the Air Balloon.
MR. OAKMAN
(1784)
AN AlRGONAUT
Yesterday sevennight, as I was coming down stairs at
Strawberry, to my chaise, my housekeeper told me, that
if I would go into the garden, I might see a balloon ; so I
did, and so high, that though the sun shone, I could scarce
distinguish it, and not bigger than my snuff-box. It had
set out privately from Moulsey, in my neighbourhood, and
went higher than any airgonaut had yet reached. But Mr.
Windham, and Sadler his pilot, were near meeting the fate
of Icarus ; and though they did land safely, their bladder-
vessel flew away again, and may be drowned in the moon
for what we know ! Three more balloons sail to-day ; in
short, we shall have a prodigious navy in the air, and then
what signifies having lost the empire of the ocean ?
HORACE WALPOLE
Letter to Sir Horace Mann (1785)
DP 97
OVER EAST ANGLIA
Before me I could see the pearl-grey water netted with
tiny ripples, the yellow sands, and ahead of me the sunshine
falling dimly through the mussel-shell slate mother-of-
pearl mist, thickened here and there in curdled spots of
white cloud. The mouth of the Ouse ran like a bar of
silver through the wriggling mud-flats to King's Lynn.
As I passed over the town, flying almost directly into the
sun, the distant cuts, drains, dykes, waterways and rivers
gleamed high up, suddenly startling me with the dazzle of
ghostly silver Zeppelins on my own level in the air. I was
flying just below the clouds, and when I reached the Bedford
River I pressed back the stick to go up through them.
Clouds cloaked me in shapelessness, the machine bumped
gently, I opened the throttle a trifle as the r.p.m. fell off a
little, shreds of vapour passed by me and the sun shone more
radiant and more golden. At 3,000 I was above the plain of
vapour. The sun shone brilliantly, black shadows of
struts and wires striped my wings. On my left a vast area
of milk was ruffled here and there with white-cap breakers.
A wall of skimmed milk stretched facing me across the sky.
But on my right the milky sea was calm : no cloud clotted,
with curdled white, the almost transparent whey. Yet
even that sea was not absolutely uniform, but watered and
laced with long, low, gentle waves that divided the pacific
calm. I was alone, and a happy forgetfulness came over me
as I gazed at this mood of Nature's.
Plane, engine, oil and air-speed were forgotten, as a car
is forgotten, and at 5,000 feet I floated in a soundless
disembodied dream, waking occasionally, it is true, to
put my head into the cockpit and peer blindly until my
98
sun-dazzled eyes could make the compass out. I was on my
course — and there on my left was Ely and before me — rising
up as high as my own level — the sunlit loops of the Cam,
somewhere near Cambridge, seen sparkling through the
bank of pearl-grey mist. ... I shut the throttle and glided
down. . . . The machine bumped as I passed through
cloud. The air-speed fell to 60 as I glided slowly down
I did a big side-slip, but even so I overshot and went round
again. This time my approach was perfect, and my landing
curiously soft and dreamlike. I was on the earth, but the
earth was unreal : a limbo of haze and softened sunlight.
Reality was far above me. There were no shadows here on
earth and scarcely any sounds except that my ear squeaked
suddenly as the air rushed into the eustachian tube.
DAVID GARNETT
A Rabbit in the Air (1932)
AMONG THE STARS
He climbed and it grew easier to correct the plunges for
the stars gave him his bearings. Their pale magnet drew
him up ; after that long and bitter quest for light, for
nothing in the world would he forgo the frailest gleam.
If the glimmer of a little inn were all his riches, he would
turn around this token of his heart's desire until his
death ! So now he soared towards the fields of light. . . .
In a flash, the very instant he had risen clear, the pilot
found a peace that passed his understanding. Not a ripple
tilted the plane but, like a ship that has crossed the bar,
99
it moved within a tranquil anchorage. In an unknown and
secret corner of the sky it floated, as in a harbour of the
Happy Isles. Below him still the storm was fashioning
another world, thridded with squall and cloudbursts
and lightnings, but turning to the stars a face of crystal
snow.
Now all grew luminous, his hands, his clothes, the
wings, and Fabien thought that he was in a limbo of
strange magic ; for the light did not come down from the
stars but welled up from below, from all that snowy
whiteness.
The clouds beneath threw up the flakes the moon was
pouring on them ; on every hand they loomed like towers
of snow. A milky stream of light flowed everywhere,
laving the plane and crew. When Fabien turned he saw
the wireless operator smile.
" That's better ! " he cried.
But his words were drowned by the rumour of the
flight ; they conversed in smiles. Pm daft, thought Fabien,
to be smiling ; we're lost.
And yet — at last a myriad dark arms had let him go ;
those bonds of his were loosed, as of a prisoner whom they
let walk a while in liberty amongst the flowers.
" Too beautiful," he thought. Amid the far-flung
treasure of the stars he roved, in a world where no life was,
no faintest breath of life, save his and his companion's.
Like plunderers of fabled cities they seemed, immured in
treasure-vaults whence there is no escape. Amongst
these frozen jewels they were wandering, rich beyond all
dreams, but doomed.
ANTOINE DE SAINT-EXUPERY
Vol de Nuit
Trans, by Stuart Gilbert (1932)
100
RIDING A STAR
Nakar and Damilcar descend in Clouds^ and sing
NAKAR :
Merry, merry, merry, we sail from the East
Half tippled at a Rain-bow Feast.
DAM :
In the bright Moon-shine while winds whistle loud,
Tivy, tivy, tivy, we mount and we fly,
All racking along in a downy white Cloud :
And lest our leap from the Skie should prove too far,
We slide on the back of a new-falling Star.
NAKAR :
And drop from above
In a Gelly of Love !
DAM :
But now the Sun's down, and the Element's red,
The Spirits of Fire against us make head !
NAKAR :
They muster, they muster, like Gnats in the Air,
Alas ! I must leave thee, my Fair ;
And to my light Horse-men repair.
DAM :
O stay, for you need not to fear 'em to-night ;
The wind is for us, and blows full in their fight :
And o're the wide Ocean we fight !
Like leaves in the Autumn our foes will fall down,
And hiss in the water—
NAKAR :
But their men lye securely intrench'd in a Cloud :
And a Trumpeter-Hornet to battel sound loud.
JOHN DRYDEN
Tyrannick Love (1670)
101
ASTRONOMY
What you say is true, said she, I love the Stars, there is
somewhat charming in them, and I could almost be angry
with the Sun for effacing 'em. I can never pardon him, /
cry'd, for keeping all those Worlds from my sight : What
Worlds, said she, looking earnestly upon me, what Worlds
do you mean ? . . . Alas, said I, I am asham'd, I must own
it, I have had a strong Fancy every Star is a World. I will
not swear it is true, but must think so, because it is so
pleasant to believe it : 'Tis a fancy come into my head, and
is very diverting. If your folly be so diverting, said the
Countess, Pray make me sensible of it ; provided the
Pleasure be so great, I will believe of the Stars all you
would have me. It is, said I, a diversion, Madam, I fear
you will not relish, 'tis not like one of Moliere's Plays, 'tis a
Pleasure rather of the fancy than of the Judgment. . . .
BERNARD DE FONTENELLE
A Plurality of Worlds
Trans. John Glanvill (1688)
I am glad, said the Lady, I have learnt the Genealogie of
the Sciences, and am convinc'd I must stick to Astronomy,
my Soul is not mercenary enough for Geometry, nor is it
tender enough for Poetry ; but I have as much time to
spare as Astronomy requires, beside, we are now in the
Countrey, and lead a kind of Pastoral life, all which suits
best with Astronomy. . . . Give me as little trouble as you
can to comprehend you. Fear it not, Madam, said I. . . .
Imagine then a German call'd Copernicus confounding every
thing, tearing in pieces the beloved Circles of Antiquity,
102
and shattering their Crystal Heavens like so many Glass
Windows : seiz'd with the noble Rage of Astronomy, he
snatcheth up the Earth from the Centre of the Universe,
sends her packing, and placeth the Sun in the Centre. . . .
All now turns round the Sun, the Earth herself goes
round the Sun, and Copernicus to punish the Earth for her
former lazyness makes her contribute all he can to the
Motion of the Planets and Heavens, and now stripp'd of all
the heavenly Equipage with which she was so gloriously
attended, she hath nothing left her but the Moon, which
still turns round her . . . and doth not leave her, but as the
Earth advanceth in the Circle which she describeth about
the Sun, and if the Moon turns round the Sun, it is because
she will not quit the Earth. I understand you, said she., and
I love the Moon for staying with us when all the other
Planets do abandon us ; nay, I fear your German would
have willingly taken her away too if he could, for in all his
proceedings, I find he had a great spight to the Earth.
'Twas well done of him, said /, to abate the Vanity of
Mankind, who had taken up the best place in the Universe,
and it pleaseth me to see the Earth in the croud of the
Planets. Sure, said she, you do not think their Vanity
extends it self as far as Astronomy ! Do you believe you
have humbled me, in telling me the Earth goes round the
Sun ? For my part, I do not think my self at all the worse
for't
I told her of a third Systemc, invented by Ticho Brake.,
who had fix'd the Earth in the Centre of the World, turn'd
the Sun round the Earth, and the rest of the Planets round
the Sun. . . . But the Countess, who had a quick appre-
hension, said, she thought it was too affected, among so
many great Bodies, to exempt the Earth only from turning
round the Sun . . . and that tho' this Systeme was to
103
prove the immobility of the Earth, yet she thought it
very improbable. So we resolv'd to stick to Copernicus,,
whose opinion we thought most Uniform, Probable, and
Diverting.
Let us leave Mars, he is not worth our stay : But what
a pretty thing is Jupiter, with his four Moons., or Yeomen
of the Guard ; they are four little Planets that turn round
him, as our Moon turns round us.
STAR-GAZING
Look at the stars ! look, look up at the skies !
O look at all the fire-folk sitting in the air !
The bright boroughs, the circle-citadels there !
Down in dim woods the diamond delves ! the elves' eyes !
The grey lawns cold where gold, where quickgold lies !
Wind-beat whitebeam ! airy abeles set on a flare !
Flake-doves sent floating forth at a farmyard scare ! —
Ah well ! it is all a purchase, all is a prize.
Buy then ! bid then ! — What ? — Prayer, patience, alms,
vows.
Look, look ; a May-mess, like on orchard boughs !
Look ! March-bloom, like on mealed-with-yellovv
sallows !
These are indeed the barn ; withindoors house
The shocks. This piece-bright paling shuts the spouse
Christ home, Christ and his mother and all his hallows.
GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS
The Starlight Night (1877)
104
BIRDS OF PLEASURE
But the Nightinghale (another of my airy creatures) breathes
such sweet loud musick out of her little instrumental
throat, that it might make mankind to think miracles are
not ceased. He that at midnight (when the very laborer
sleeps securely) should hear (as I have very often) the
clear aires, the sweet descant , the natural rising and falling,
the doubling and redoubling of her voice, might well be
lifted above earth, and say, Lord, what musick hast thou
provided for the Saints in Heaven, when thou affordest
men such musick on earth !
And this makes me the lesse to wonder at the many
Aviaries in Italy, or at the great charge of Varro his
Aviarie, the remaines of which are yet to be seen in
Rome. . . .
This for the birds of pleasure, of which very much
more might be said.
IZAAK WALTON
The Compleat Angler (1653)
RAPHAEL DESCENDS
Nor delaid the winged saint
After his charge receivd ; but from among
Thousand Celestial Ardors, where he stood
Vaild with his gorgeous wings, up springing light
Flew through the midst of Heav'n ; th' angelic Quires
On each hand parting, to his speed gave way
Through all th' Empyreal road ; . . . .
.... Down thither prone in flight,
105
He speeds, and through the vast Ethereal Skie
Sailes between the worlds and worlds, with steddie wing
Now on the polar windes, then with quick Fann
Winnows the buxom Air ; till within soare
Of Towring Eagles, to all the Fowles he seems
A Phoenix, gaz'd by all, as that sole Bird
When to enshrine his reliques in the Sun's
Bright Temple, to ^Egyptian TheVs he flies.
At once on th' Eastern cliff of Paradise
He lights, and to his proper shape returns
A Seraph winged ; six wings he wore, to shade
His lineaments Divine ; the pair that clad
Each shoulder broad, came mantling o're his brest
With regal Ornament ; the middle pair
Girt like a Starrie Zone his waste, and round
Skirted his loines and thighes with downie Gold
And colours dipt in Heav'n ; the third his feet
Shaddowd from either heele with featherd maile
Skie-tinctur'd grain. Like Maid's son he stood,
And shook his Plumes, that Heav'nly fragrance filld
The circuit wide. Strait knew all the Bands
Of Angels under watch ; and to his state,
And to his message high in honour rise ;
For on som message high they guessed him bound.
Thir glittering Tents he passd, and now is come
Into the blissful field, through Groves of Myrrhe,
And flouring Odours, Cassia, Nard, and Balme ;
A Wilderness of sweets ; for Nature here
Wantond as in her prime, and plaid at will
Her Virgin Fancies, pouring forth more sweet,
Wilde above rule or Art ; enormous bliss.
JOHN MILTON
Paradise Lost. Book V (1667)
106
CHRISTMAS
DANCING IN CHURCH
Captain Potter (born in the north of Yorkshire) sayes
that in the country churches, at Christmas, in the Holy-
daies after Prayers, they will dance in the Church, and
as they doe dance they cry (or sing)
" Yole, Yole, Yole, etc."
JOHN AUBREY
Remains of Gentilism and Judaism (1687)
THE YULE LOG
In the west riding of Yorkshire on Xmass Eve, at night,
they bring in a large Yule-log, or Xmass block, and set it
on fire, and lap their Christmas ale, and sing,
" Yule, Yule,
A pack of new cards and Xmass stool."
Ibid.
107
A BUSY CHRISTMAS EVE
On Christmas eve I went not to bed, being desirous of
seeing the many extraordinary ceremonies performed then
in their churches, as midnight masses and sermons. I
walked from church to church the whole night in admira-
tion at the multitude of sceanes and pageantry which the
friars had with much industry set out, to catch the devout
women and superstitious sort of people, who never parted
without dropping some money into a vessell set on
purpose ; but especially observable was the pupetry in
the Church of the Minerva, representing the Nativity.
I thence went and heard a sermon at the Apollinare ; by
which time it was morning.
JOHN EVELYN
Diary (Rome 1644)
THE MYRTH OF THE HONEST
It is now Christmas, and not a Cup of drinke must passe
without a Caroll, the Beasts, Fowle and Fish, come to a
generall execution, and the Corne is ground to dust for
the Bakehouse, and the Pastry : Cards and Dice purge
many a purse, . . . now good cheere and welcome, and
God be with you, and I thanke you : and against the new
yeere, provide for the presents : the Lord of Mis-rule is
no meane man for his time, and the ghests of the high
Table must lacke no Wine : the lusty bloods must looke
about them like men, and piping the dauncing puts away
108
much melancholy : stolne Venison is sweet, and a fat
Coney is worth money : . . . a good fire heats all the house,
and a full Almes-basket makes the Beggers Prayers : the
Maskers and Mummers make the merry sport : . . .
Swearers and Swaggerers are sent away to the Ale-house,
and unruly Wenches goe in danger of Judgement :
Musicians now make their Instruments speake out, and a
good song is worth the hearing. In summe, it is holy
time, a duty in Christians, for the remembrance of Christ,
and custome among friends, for the maintenance of good
fellowship : in briefe, I thus conclude of it : I hold it a
memory of the Heavens Love, and the worlds peace, the
myrth of the honest, and the meeting of the friendly.
NICHOLAS BRETON
Fantasticks (1626)
CLOTHES
A WELL-DRESSED MAN
LADY TOWNLEY : He's very fine.
EMILIA : Extream proper.
SIR FOPLING : A slight suit I made to appear in at my first
arrival, not worthy your consideration, Ladies.
109
DORRIMANT : The Pantaloon is very well mounted.
SIR FOP. : The Tassels are new and pretty.
MEDLEY : I never saw a Coat better cut.
SIR FOP. : It makes me show long-wasted, and I think
slender.
DOR. : That's the shape our Ladies doat on.
MED. : Your breech, though, is a handfull too high, in my
eye, Sir Fopling.
SIR FOP. : Peace, Medley , I have wish'd it lower a thous-
and times, but a Pox on't, 'twill not be.
LADY TOWN. : His Gloves are well fring'd, large and
graceful.
SIR FOP. : I was always eminent for being bien gante.
EMILIA : He wears nothing but what are Originals of the
most famous hands in Paris.
SIR FOP. : You are in the right, Madam.
LADY TOWN. : The Suit ?
SIR FOP. : Barroy.
EMILIA : The Garniture ?
SIR FOP. : Le Gras.
MED. : The Shooes ?
SIR FOP. : Piccar.
DOR. : The Perriwig ?
SIR FOP. : Chedreux.
LADY TOWN, and EMILIA : The Gloves ?
SIR FOP. : Orangerie ! You know the smell, Ladies !
SIR GEORGE ETHEREGE
The Man of Mode (1676)
no
SILK STOCKINGS
In the second yeere of Queen Elizabeth, 1560, her silke
woman, Mistris Montague, presented her majestic for a
new yeere's gift, a paire of black knit silk stockings, the
which, after a few dayes wearing, pleased her highness so
well, that she sent for Mistris Montague, and asked her
where she had them, and if she could help her to any more ;
who answered, saying, " I made them very carefully of
purpose onely for your majestic, and seeing these please
you so well, I will presently set more in hand." " Do soe
(quoth the queene) for indeed I like silke stockings so well,
because they are pleasant, fine, and delicate, that henceforth
I will wear no more CLOTH STOCKINGS "—and from that
time unto her death the queene never wore any more cloth
hose, but onely silke stockings.
JOHN STOW
Annals (1580-1605)
YOUNG GENTLEMEN'S CLOTHES
LADY (to her sons) : Come hether both of you, doe you
weare your cloathes Gentle-men like ? Where is your
hat-band ? . . . Have you taken cleane shirts this morning ?
Your bands .be not cleane. Why have you taken your
wast-coates ? Is it so colde ? Button your Dublet, are you
not ashamed to be so untrussed ? Where is your Jerkin ?
for this morning is somewhat colde : And you also, take
your coate, are you ungirt ? Boy Neuf-a-Bien, heere you ?
in
You do nothing but play trickes there, Goe fetch your
Masters silver hatched Daggers, you have not brushed
their breeches, Bring the brushes and brush them before
me. Lord God how dustie they are ! They are full of dust,
what stockins have you ? Your silke stockins or your
wosted hose ? Put on your garters embroidered with
silver, for it may be that yee shall goe foorth w^th me,
where are your Cuffes and your falles ? Have you cleane
handkerchers ? Take your perfumed gloves that are
lyned, Put on your gownes untill we goe, and then you
shall take your cloakes lyned with Taffate, and your
Rapiers with silver hikes. Tye your shooe-stringes. Well,
take your bootes, your boot-hosen, and your gilt spurres.
Ri(chard) Neuf-a-Bien, have you made cleane their shooes
to-day ?
RICHARD NEUF-A-BIEN : Yea, Madame.
LADY : Truely so it seemes, come hether you brasen-facte
Iyer, art thou not ashamed to affirme so apparent a lye
before me ? The myre and durt sticke on them yet. Seest
thou not that they are all durtie ?
PIERRE ERONDELL
The French Garden (1605)
FEMALE CONVERSATION
In a Room where both Sexes meet, if the Men are dis-
coursing upon any general Subject, the Ladies never
think it their business to partake in what passes, but in a
separate Club entertain each other, with the price and
choice of Lace and Silk, and what Dresses they liked or dis-
approved at the Church or the Play-House. And when you
112
are among yourselves, how naturally, after the first Com-
plements, do you apply your hands to each other's Lap-
pets and Ruffles and Mantuas, as if the whole business of
your Lives, and the publick concern of the World, depended
upon the Cut and colour of your Dresses. As Divines say,
that some People take more pains to be damned, than it
would cost them to be Saved ; so your Sex employs more
thought, memory, and application to be Fools, than would
serve to make them wise and useful. When I reflect on this,
I cannot conceive you to be Human Creatures, but a sort
of Species hardly a degree above a Monkey ; who has more
diverting Tricks than any of you ; is an Animal less mis-
chievous and expensive, might in time be a tolerable
Critick in Velvet and Brocade, and for ought I know
wou'd equally become them.
I would have you look upon Finery as a necessary Folly,
as all great Ladies did whom I have ever known : I do
not desire you to be out of the fashion, but to be the last
and least in it : ... and in your own heart I would wish you
to be an utter Contemner of all Distinctions which a finer
Petticoat can give you ; because it will neither make you
richer, handsomer, younger, better natur'd, more vertu-
ous, or wise, than if it hung upon a Peg.
JONATHAN SWIFT
Letter to a Young Lady (1727)
FRUIT ON THE HEAD
Again I am annoyed by the foolish absurdity of the present
mode of dress. Some ladies carry on their heads a large
quantity of fruit, and yet they would despise a poor useful
113
member of society, who carried it there for the purpose of
selling it for bread. Some, at the back of their perpendicu-
lar caps, hang four or five ostrich feathers, of different
colours, etc. Spirit of Addison ! thou pure and gentle shade,
arise ! thou, who with such fine humour, and such polished
sarcasm, didst lash the cherry-coloured hood, and the party
patches, and cut down, with a trenchant sickle, a whole
harvest of follies and absurdities awake ! for the follies
thou didst lash were but the beginning of follies ; and the
absurdities thou didst censure, were but the seeds of
absurdities ! Oh, that thy master-spirit, speaking and
chiding in thy graceful page, could recall the blushes, and
collect the scattered and mutilated remnants of female
modesty !
HANNAH MORE
Letter to her sister (1776)
FEW BUT FIT
The women here . . . when they go abroad, though they
be naked, yet they are laden with gold and precious stones
hanging at their Ears, Necks, Legs, Armes, and upon
their Breasts.
JOHN BULWER
Anthropometamorphosis : or. The Artificial Changeling
(1650)
COLLECTING
SERPENTS' EGGS
In Summer time yerely, you shall see an infinit number of
snakes, gather round together into an hoape, entangled
and enwrapped one within another so artificially, as I am
not able to expresse the manner thereof; by the means
therfore of the froth or salivation which they yeeld from
their mouths . . . there is engendred the egg aforesaid.
The priests of France called Druidae, are of opinion, and
so they deliver it, that these serpents when they have
thus engendred this egg, do cast it up on high into the
aire, by the force of their hissing, which being observed,
there must be one ready to catch and receive it in the fall
again (before it touch the ground) within the lappet of a
coat of arms or soldiers cassocks. They affirme also that
the party who carrieth this egg away had need to be wel
mounted upon a good horse and to ride away upon the
spur, for that the foresaid serpents will pursue him still,
and never give over until they meet with some great river
between him and them. . . . They ad moreover and say,
that the onely marke to know the egg whether it be right
or no, is this, That it will swim aloft above the water
even against the stream, yea though it were bound and
"5
enchased in a plate of gold. Over and besides, these
Druidae ... do affirme, That there must be a certaine
speciall time of the Moones age espied, when this business
is to be gone about. PLINY
Natural History (c. 77)
Trans. Philemon Holland (1601)
BIRDS' EGGS
Next morning I went to see Sir Thomas Browne. . . .
His whole house and garden being a paradise and cabinet of
rarities, and that of the best collection, especially medails,
books, plants, and natural things. Amongst other curios-
ities, Sir Thomas had a collection of the eggs of all the
foule and birds he could procure, that country (especialy
the promontory of Norfolck) being frequented, as he said,
by severall kinds which seldome or never go farther into
the land, as cranes, storkes, eagles, and variety of water-
JOHN EVELYN
Diary (Oct. 17, 1671)
BOOKS
The Bishop [More, of Ely] collected his library by
plundering those of the clergy in his diocese ; some he
paid with sermons or more modern books ; others, less
civilly, only with a quid illiterati cum libris ?
RICHARD GOUGH
Anecdotes of British Topography (1768)
116
A gentleman calling on a friend who had a very choice
library, found him unusually busy in putting his best
books out of sight : upon asking his view in this, he was
answered. Don't you know the Bishop of Ely dines with
me to-day ?
Ibid.
For this is my mynde this one pleasoure have I
Of bokes to have grete plenty and aparayle. . . .
Still am I besy bokes assemblynge
For to have plenty it is a pleasaunt thynge
In my conceyt and to have them ay in honde
But what they mene do I nat understonde.
But yet I have them in great reverence
And honoure savynge them from fylth and ordure
By often brusshynge and moche dylygence
Full goodly bounde in pleasaunt coverture
Of damas satyn or else of velvet pure.
I kepe them sure ferynge lyst they sholde be lost
For in them is the ccnnynge wherin I me bost.
ALEXANDER BARCLAY
The Shyp of Folys (1509)
(Trans, from Brandt)
The personal dislike which Pope Innocent X bore to
the French had originated in his youth, when a cardinal,
from having been detected in the library of an eminent
French collector of having purloined a most rare volume.
117
The delirium of a collector's rage overcame even French
politesse ; the Frenchman not only openly accused his
illustrious culprit, but was resolved that he should not
quit the library without replacing the precious volume —
from accusation and denial both resolved to try their
strength : but in this literary wrestling-match the book
dropped out of the cardinal's robes — and from that day
he hated the French. ISAAC DISRAELI
Curiosities of Literature (1791-1823)
I have made Mr Bodley acquainted with your kinde
and friendly offer, who accepteth of it in most thankful
manner : and if it pleaseth you to appoint to-morrow . . .
wee will not fayle to bee with you at your house for that
purpose. And remember I give you fay re warning that
if you hold any booke so deare as that you wold be loth
to have him out of your sight, gett him aside beforehande ;
for myne owne part, I will not doe wronge to my judge-
ment as to chuse of the worst, if bettere bee in place. And
beside you wold account mee a simple man. . . .
True it is that I have raysed some expectations of the
quality of your gift in Mr Bodley, whom you shall find
a gentle man, in all respects very worthy of your ac-
quayntance. SIR HENRY SAVILE
Letter to Sir Robert Cotton (c. 1600)
NOTE. As an example of the garbling methods of literary anec-
dotists, it is instructive to compare this letter with the account
of it given by Isaac Disraeli in Curiosities of Literature, which runs,
cc Sir Robert Saville writing to Sir Robert Cotton, appointing an
interview with the founder of the Bodleian Library, cautions Sir
Robert, that ( If he held any book so dear as he would be loath to
lose it, he should not let Sir Thomas out of his sight) but set " the
boke " aside beforehand.' "
118
MANUSCRIPTS
One of the Ptolemies refused supplying the famished
Athenians with wheat, until they presented him with
the original manuscripts of Aiscylus, Sophocles, and
- ISAAC DISRAELI
Curiosities of Literature (1792-1823)
CONVERSATION
CHAT
In various talk th'instructive hours they past,
Who gave the ball, or paid the visit last.
One speaks the glory of the British Queen,
And one describes a charming Indian screen ;
A third interprets motions, looks, and eyes ;
At ev'ry word a reputation dies.
Snuff, or the fan, supply each pause of chat,
With singing, laughing, ogling, and all that.
ALEXANDER POPE
The Rape of the Lock (1712)
119
VERY GOOD DISCOURSE
At table I had very good discourse with Mr Ashmole,
wherin he did assure me that frogs and many insects do
often fall from the sky, ready formed. SAMUEL PEPYS
Diary (May 23, 1661)
TOSSING AND GORING
When I called upon Dr Johnson next morning, I found
him highly satisfied with his colloquial prowess the
preceding evening. " Well (said he) we had good talk."
BOSWELL : " Yes, Sir ; you tossed and gored several
persons. JAMES BOSWELL
Life of Johnson (1791)
ABOUT COWLEY
BELINDA : Come, Mr. Sharper, you and I will take a Turn,
and laugh at the Vulgar — Both the great Vulgar and the
small — Oh Gad ! I have a great passion for Cowley —
Don't you admire him ?
SHARPER : Oh Madam ! He was our English Horace.
BELINDA : Ah so fine ! So extreamly fine ! So every thing
in the World that I like — Oh Lord, walk this Way — I see
a Couple, I'll give you their History. ^^ CONGREVE
The Old Batchelor (1693)
120
THE WOMEN'S COMPANY
CARELESS : Where are the Women ? I'm weary of guzz-
ling, and begin to think them the better Company ?
MELLEFONT : Then thy Reason staggers, and thou'rt
almost Drunk.
CARELESS : No Faith, but your Fools grow noisie — and
if a Man must endure the Noise of Words without Sense,
I think the Women have more Musical Voices, and
become Nonsense better.
MELLEFONT : Why, they are at the end of the Gallery ;
retir'd to their Tea and Scandal ; acording to their
Ancient Custom after Dinner.
WILLIAM CONGREVE
The Double-Dealer (1693)
IMPROVING THE MIND
If you are in company with Men of learning, though they
happen to discourse of Arts and Sciences out of your com-
pass, yet you will gather more advantage by list'ning to
them than from all the nonsense and frippery of your own
Sex ; but, if they be Men of Breeding as well as Learning,
they will seldom engage in any Conversation where you
ought not to be a hearer, and in time have your part. If they
talk of the Manners and Customs of the several Kingdoms
of Europe, of Travels into remoter Nations, of the state of
their own Country, or of the great Men and Actions of
Greece and Rome ; if they give their judgment upon English
and French Writers, either in Verse or Prose, or of the
121
nature and limits of Virtue and Vice, it is a shame for an
English Lady not to relish such Discourses, not to improve
by them, and endeavour by Reading and Information, to
have her share in those Entertainments ; rather than turn
aside, as it is the usual custom, and consult with the
Woman who sits next her, about a new Cargo of Fans.
JONATHAN SWIFT
Letter to a Young Lady (1727)
EDUCATED TALK
One of the greatest pleasures of life is conversation ; —
and the pleasures of conversation are of course enhanced by
every increase of knowledge : not that we should meet
together to talk of alkalis and angles, or to add to our stock
of history and philology, — though a little of these tilings is
no bad thing in conversation ; but let the subject be what
it may, there is always a prodigious difference between
the conversation of those who have been well educated and
of those who have not enjoyed this advantage. Education
gives fecundity of thought, copiousness of illustration,
quickness, vigour, fancy, words, images and illustrations ; —
it decorates every common thing, and gives the power of
trifling without being undignified and absurd. . . . Now,
really, nothing can be further from our intention than to
say anything rude and unpleasant; but we must be excused
from observing, that it is not now a very common thing
to be interested by the variety and extent of female know-
ledge.
SYDNEY SMITH
Female Education (1809)
122
TEDIOUS
If they have a story to relate, they must needs make its
beginning rise with the Beginning of the World, and they
dwell so long upon frivolous circumstances that they are
insensibly drawne to other matters, into which they hop
like birds from branch to branch, and sometimes in the
very middle of their relation they wander so far from the
Subject they had in Hand, that they are forc'd to seek
about for it againe, as the young lad did for his Fathers
Asses.
J. B.
Heroick Education (1657)
How TO CONVERSE
I have passed, perhaps, more time than any other man of
my age and country in visits and assemblies, where the
polite persons of both sexes distinguish themselves ; and
could not without much grief observe how frequently both
gentlemen and ladies are at a loss for questions, answers
replies and rejoinders. . . . How often do we see at Court,
at publick visiting-days, at great men's levees, and other
places of general meeting that the conversation falls and
drops to nothing, like a fire without supply of fuel. This
is what we all ought to lament ; and against this dangerous
evil I take upon me to affirm, that I have, in the follow-
ing papers, provided an infallible remedy. . . .
The curious reader will observe, that, when conversa-
tion appears in danger to flag ... I took care to invent
some sudden question, or turn of wit to revive it ; such as
123
these that follow : " What ? I think here's a silent meeting !
Come, Madam, a penny for your thought " ; with several
others of the like sort
When this happy art of polite conversing shall be
thoroughly improved, good company will be no longer
pestered with dull, dry, tedious story-tellers, nor brangling
disputers ; for a right scholar of either sex in our science
will perpetually interrupt them with some sudden sur-
prising piece of wit, that shall engage all the company in a
loud laugh ; and if, after a pause, the grave companion
resumes his thread in the following manner, " Well, but
to go on with my story," new interruptions come from the
left and right, till he is forced to give over.
JONATHAN SWIFT
Introduction to A Compleat Collection of Genteel and
Ingenious Conversation (1738)
AT THE TEA-TABLE
Lady Smarfs antichamber. Miss Notable comes in.
MR. NEVEROUT : Miss, your slave : I hope your early
rising will do you no harm. I find you are but just come
out of the cloth market.
Miss : I always rise at eleven, whether it be day or no.
COL. ATWITT : Miss, I hope you are up for all day.
Miss : Yes, if I don't get a fall before night.
COL. : Miss, I heard you were out of order ; pray, how
are you now ?
Miss : Pretty well, Colonel, I thank you.
COL. : Pretty and well, miss ! that's two very good things . . .
124
Miss (to LADY SMART) : Pray, Madam, give me some
more sugar to my tea.
COL. : Oh ! Miss, you must needs be very good-
humour'd, you love sweet things so well.
NEVEROUT : Stir it up with the spoon, miss ; for the
deeper the sweeter.
LADY SMART : I assure you, Miss, the Colonel has made
you a great compliment.
Miss : I am sorry for it ; for I have heard say, compli-
menting is lying. . . .
LADY SMART : Lord, miss, how can you drink your tea
so hot ? sure your mouth's paved. How do you like this
tea, colonel ?
COL. : Well enough, madam ; but methinks it is a little
more-ish.
LADY SMART : Oh colonel ! I understand you. Betty,
bring the canister ; I have very little of this tea left ; but I
don't love to make two wants of one ; want when I have it,
and want when I have it not. He, he, he, he.
LADY ANSWERALL (to the MAID) : Why, sure, Betty, you
are bewitched, the cream is burnt too.
BETTY : Why, madam, the bishop has set his foot in it.
LADY SMART : Go, run, girl, and warm fresh cream.
BETTY : Indeed, madam, there's none left ; for the cat
has eaten it all.
LADY SMART : I doubt it was a cat with two legs. . . .
COL. : Miss, when will you be married ?
Miss : One of these odd-come-shortly's, colonel.
NEVEROUT : Yes ; they say the match is half made, the
spark is willing, but miss is not.
Miss : I suppose the gentleman has got his own consent
for it.
125
LADY A. : Pray, my Lord, did you walk through the
Park in the rain ?
LORD SPARKISH : Yes, madam, we were neither sugar nor
salt, we were not afraid the rain would melt us. He, he, he.
COL. : It rain'd, and the sun shone at the same time. . . .
LADY S. : Miss, dear girl, fill me out a dish of tea, for I'm
very lazy.
MlSS fills a dish of tea., sweetens it, and tastes it.
LADY S. : What, miss, will you be my taster ?
Miss : No, madam ; but they say it's an ill cook that can't
lick her own fingers.
NEV. : Pray, miss, fill me another.
Miss : Will you have it now, or stay till you get it ?
LADY A. : But, colonel, they say you went to court last
night very drunk : nay, I'm told for certain, you had been
among the Philistines : no wonder the cat winked when
both her eyes were out.
COL. : Indeed, madam, that's a lye.
LADY A. : Tis better I should lye than you should lose
your good manners besides, I don't lie, I sit. . . .
LADY S. : Well, I fear Lady Answerall can't live long,
she has so much wit. . . .
Miss : But pray, Mr Neverout, what lady was that you
were talking with in the side-box last Tuesday ?
NEV. : Miss, can you keep a secret ?
Miss : Yes, I can.
NEV. : Well, miss, and so can I.
JONATHAN SWIFT
A Compleat Collection of Genteel and Ingenious
Conversation (1738)
126
CONVERSION
To THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND
It is honorable, both for that by this meanes infinite
nombers of soules may be brought from theyr idolatry,
bloody sacrifices, ignoraimce and incivility, to the wor-
shipping of the true God aright to civill conversation, and
also theyr bodyes freed from the intollerable tirrany of
the Spaniards whereunto they are already or likely in
shorte space to be subjected, unlesse her excellent
Majestic or some other Christian prince doe speedily
assiste, and afterward protect them in their just defensive
wars against the violence of usurpers. . . .
Likewise it is profitable, for heereby the Queens
dominions may bee exceedingly enlarged, and this Realme
inestimably enriched, with pretious stones, gold, silver,
pearle, and other commodityes which those countryes
yeald, and (God giving good successe to the voiage) an
entrance made thereby to many other Empyres (which
happily may prove as rich as this) and it may bee to Peru
its selfe and other Kingdomes of which the Spaniards bee
now possessed. . . .
To be shorte, all sound Christians ... do repute the
Kings of Castile and Portugall meere usurpers in Africke
and America. . . . Christians may not warrantably con-
quer Infidells upon pretence only of their infidelity. But I
127
hould it very reasonable and charitable to send preachers
safely guarded if need bee, to offer Infidells the gladd
tidings of the Gospell. . . .
The condicions to be required of them are these. First
to renounce their Idolatry, and to worship the only true
God
2. That the Inga of Manoa . . . surrender the ensignes
of his Empire to her Majestic. . . . Also her Majesties
Lieuetenantes to direct the Guianians in their conclusions
both of warr and peace : Rendring yearly to Her Majestic
and her successors a great tribute allotting to her use
some rich mines and rivers of gold, pearle, silver, rocks of
pretious stone, etc. with some large fruitfull countryes for
the planting of her Colonyes. . . .
Wee may make choise to arme and instructe such of
them as we find most trusty and most prone to Christianity,
reserving the powder and shott in our own custody. . . .
Besids this easy and compendious way of possessing
Guiana by arming the inhabitants, there is speciall choise
to be had in sending preachers of good discrecion and
behavior for their conversion. SJR WALTER RALEIGH
Of the Voyage for Guiana (c. 1598)
He the Duke of Norfolk renounced " the errors of
Popery "... he said, " I cannot be a good Catholic ; I
cannot go to Heaven ; and if a man is to go to the devil, he
may as well go thither from the House of Lords as from
any other place on earth."
When he qualified for some office, perhaps that of Lord
Lieutenant of the county — of Gloucester, I think — which
qualification consists in receiving the Lord's Supper
128
according to the rite of the Church of England, he returned
the cup out of which he drank the sacramental wine,
saying in hardly an under voice, " Port, by G ! " What
does the Church of England gain by conversions such as
these ?
H. D. BEST
Personal and Literary Memorials (1829)
To PRESBYTERIANISM
Yesterday I went
To see a lady that has a parrott ; my woman
While I was in discourse, converted the fowle,
And now it can speak naught but Knox's words ;
So there's a parrot lost.
JASPER MAYNE
The City Match (1639)
To ROMAN CATHOLICISM
In the river of Palo otherwise called Orinoque, in the
principall part thereof called Warismero, the 23 of Aprill
1593, Domingo de Vcra Master of the Campe and . . .
Captaine generall for our Lorde the King . . . commanded
all the soldiers to be drawne together and put in order of
battaile, the Captaines and soldiers and master of the
campe standing in the middest of them, said unto them :
Sirs, Soldiers and Captaines, you understand long since that
our Generall Anth. de Berreo, with the travell of 1 1 yeares,
EP 129
and expence of more than 100000 pesoes of Gold., dis-
covered the noble provinces of Guiana and Dorado : On
the which he tooke possession to governe the same. . . .
Now they had sente me to learne out and discover the ways
most easily to enter and to people the saide provinces, and
where the Campes and Armies may best enter the same.
By reason whereof I entend to do so in the name of his
Majesty, and the said governour Antho. de Berreo, and in
token thereof I require you, Fran. Carillo, that you aide
me to advance this crosse that lieth here on the ground,
which they set on end towardes the east, and the said
Master of the Campe, the Captains and soldiers kneeled
down and did due reverence unto the said crosse, and
thereupon the Master of the Campe . . . drew out his sworde
and cut the grasse of the ground, and the boughs of the
trees, saying, I take this possession in the name of Don
Philip our master, and of his governour Antho : de Berrco . . .
And the said Master of the Campe kneeled downe . . . and
all the Captaines and soldiers saide that the possession was
wel taken, and that they would defend it with their lives,
upon whosoever would say the contrary. . . . And in
prosecution of the said possession . . . the Master of the
Camp entered by little and little, with all the Campe and
men of warre, more then two leagues into the Inland, and
came to a towne of a Principall, and conferring with him
did let him understand . . . that his Majesty . . . had sent
him to take the said possession. And the said fryer Francis
Carillo by the Interpreter delivered him certain thingcs
of our holy Catholique faith, to al which he answered, that
they understood him well and would becom Christians,
and that with a very good wil they should advance the
crosse, in what part or place of the towne it pleased them,
for he was for the governour Anth : de Berreo, who was
130
his Master. Thereupon the said master of the Campe
tooke a great crosse, and set it on ende toward the east,
and requested the whole Campe to witnesse it.
RODRIGO DE CARANCA, Register of the Army
Report to King of Spain of the discovery of Nuevo
Dorado. Taken at sea by Captain Popham and trans.
by Sir Walter Raleigh (1594)
To CHRISTIANITY
For when the Saxons first receaved the Christian Faith,
Paidinus of old Yorke, the zealous Bishop then,
In Swales abundant streame Christned ten thousand men,
With women and their babes, a number more beside.
Upon one happy day, whereof shee boasts with pride.
MICHAEL DRAYTON
Poly-Olbion. Song XXVIII
To AND FRO
Upon the dissolution of the abbeys, he [Henry VIII]
gave him the abbey of Wilton, and a country of lands
and mannours therabout belonging to it. ...
In queen Mary's time, upon the returne of the Catho-
lique religion, the nunnes came again to Wilton abbey,
and this William, earl of Pembroke came to the gate . . .
with his cappe in his hand, and fell upon his knee to the
lady abbesse and the nunnes, crying peccavi. Upon queen
131
Mary's death the earle came to Wilton (like a tygre) and
turned them out, crying, " Out, ye whores, to worke, to
worke, ye whores, goe spinne."
JOHN AUBREY
Brief Lives : William Herbert, 1st earle of Pembroke
(c. 1680)
TO ROYALISM
The day of restoration of K.Ch.2 observed. . . . They
were freed from the chaines of darkness and confusion
which the presbyterians and phanaticks had brought upon
them . . . some of them seeing what mischiefe they had
done, tack'd about to participate of the universal joy, and
at length clos'd with the royal partie.
ANTHONY WOOD
Life and Times (1660)
To ORANGERY
O falsnes ! He that ran with the humour of King James II
now forsakes him, to cring to prince of Orange in hopes
to keep his bishoprick.
Ibid.
(1689)
To HOLY ORDERS
Such strifes as these S. Augustine had, when S. Ambrose
indeavoured his conversion to Christianity, . . . Our learned
Author ... did the like. And declaring his intention to
132
his deare friend D. King, the then worthy Bishop of
London . . . That Reverend Bishop most gladly received
the news ; and, with all convenient speed ordained him
Deacon and Priest.
Now the English Church had gained a second S.
Augustine, for I think none was so like him before his
conversion : none so like S. Ambrose after it. And if his
youth had the infirmities of the one Father, his age had
the excellencies of the other, the learning and holiness of
both.
Now all his studies (which were occasionally diffused)
were concentred in Divinity. Now he had a new calling,
new thoughts, and a new employment for his wit and
eloquence. Now all his earthly affections were changed
into divine love, and all the faculties of his soule were
ingaged in the conversion of others. . . .
Presently after he enterd into his holy Profession, the
King made him his Chaplaine in ordinary, and gave him
other incouragements, promising to take a particular
care of him.
IZAAK WALTON
Life of Dr. John Donne (1640)
To SCORN OF MONEY
Who could imagine that Diogenes in his yonger dayes
should bee a falsifier of mony who in the after-course of
his life was so great a contemner of metall, as to laugh at
all that loved it. Butt men are not the same in all divisions
of their ages.
SIR THOMAS BROWNE
Notes from Commonplace Books (Undated)
133
To VIRTUE
Dr Twiss, . . . told me, that his father (Dr Twiss,
polocutor of the Assembly of Divines, and Author of Vin-
diciae] when he was a school-boy at Winchester, saw the
phantome of a Scool-fellow of his, deceased, (a rake-hell)
who said to him, " / am damned" This was the occasion
of Dr Twiss's (the father's) Conversion, who had been
before that time, as he told his Son, a very wicked Boy,
he was hypochondriacal. There is a Story like this, of the
Conversion of St Bruno, by an Apparition : upon which
he became mighty devout, and founded the Order of the
Carthusians. JOHN AUBREY
Miscellanies (1696)
To A STATE OF GRACE
But about the I4th Year of his Age, being under some
more than usual Convictions of Sin, after his having
robb'd a Neighbour's Orchard, it pleas'd God he met
with Parsons Of Resolution, (as Corrected by Bunny) in
the reading of which such Impressions were made upon
his Spirit, as never wore off to the Day of his Death.
... He had often formerly had tho'ts of this kind Stirring
in his Mind, but now they came in another manner, with
Sense and Power and Seriousness to his Heart. This cast
him into Fears about his Condition, and they drove him
to Cordial Contrition, Confession, and Prayer ; and
issu'd in a serious Resolution of altering his Course.
Meeting afterwards with Dr. Sibb's Bruised Reed, . . .
by the reading also of Mr. Perkins of Repentance., . . .
and some other of his Treatises, he was further inform'd
134
and confirmed. . . . The reading of Mr. Ezek. Culverwel
Of Faith at this time gave him much Relief. . . .
Upon further search., he found that the first Degree of
Special Grace was usually very small, and therefore not
easily distinguishable in the season of its first Prevalence
from Preparatory Grace : . . . But that which most per-
plex'd him, and which created him the Greatest Difficulty,
was the finding himself Guilty of known and deliberate
Sin, after that he had tho't himself Converted : This he
for a long time could not tell how to Reconcile with true
Grace. Every known Sin he committed, in this respect,
renew'd his Doubt. . . .
It much encreas'd his Peace to find others in the like
Condition : He found his Case had nothing Singular.
EDMUND CALAMY
Life of Richard Baxter (1702)
To QUAKERISM
Mrs Knowles mentioned, as a proselyte to Quakerism,
a young lady well known to Dr Johnson . . . JOHNSON
(frowning very angrily) : " Madam, she is an odious
wench. She could not have any proper conviction that it
was her duty to change her religion. . . . She knew no more
of the Church which she left, and that which she em-
braced, than she did of the difference between the Co-
pernican and Ptolemaic systems." MRS KNOWLES: " She
had the New Testament before her." JOHNSON : " Madam,
she could not understand the New Testament."
JAMES BOSWELL
Life of Johnson (1791)
135
CORRESPONDENCE
A USE FOR LETTERS
MRS FAINALL : You were dress'd before I came abroad.
MILLAMANT : Ay, that's true O but then I had —
Mincing., what had I ? Why was I so long ?
MINCING : O Mem, your Laship staid to peruse a Pacquet
of Letters.
MILL. : O ay. Letters — I had Letters — I am persecuted
with Letters — I hate Letters No Body knows how
to write Letters ; and yet one has 'em, one does not know
why They serve one to pin up one's Hair.
WITWOUD : Is that the way ? Pray, Madam, do you pin
up your Hair with all your Letters ? I find I must keep
Copies.
MILL. : Only with those in Verse, Mr Witwoud. I never
pin up my Hair with Prose. I think I try'd once, Mincing.
MINCING : O Mem, I shall never forget it.
MILL. : Ay, poor Mincing tift and tift all the Morning.
MINCING : Till I had the Cramp in my Fingers, I'll vow,
Mem. And all to no purpose. But when your Laship pins
it up with Poetry, it sits so pleasant the next Day as any
Thing, and is so pure and so crips.
WITWOUD : Indeed, so crips ?
MINCING : You're such a Critick, Mr Witwoud.
WILLIAM CONGREVE
The Way of the World (1700)
ANOTHER USE
The manuscripts of Pope's version of the Iliad and
Odyssey . . . are written chiefly on the backs of letters.
ISAAC DISRAELI
Curiosities of Literature (1792-1823)
To AN EXACTING CORRESPONDENT
Well, my dear, what's the matter with you, that you cr>
out like an eagle ? Pray wait to judge me until you are
here. What is there so dreadful in the words, " my days
are full " ? When I have been gadding abroad and get
home, I find there M. de la Rochefoucauld, whom I
haven't seen all day : can I write ? M. de la Rochfoucauld
and M. Gonville are here : can I write ? But when they
have gone ? Ah, when they have gone, it's eleven o'clock,
and I go out myself ; I am sleeping at my neighbour be-
cause building is going on in front of my windows. But
the afternoon ? I have a headache then. The morning ?
A headache again, and I take a herb broth which makes me
137
drunk. You are in Provence, my dear : your time is clear,
and your head still more so ; the lust to write to everyone
presses on you ; from me it's gone ; and if I had a lover
who wanted letters from me every morning, I should
break with him. Don't, then, measure our friendship by
letters ; I should love you as much, only writing you a
page in a month, as you love me writing ten a week. When
I am at Saint-Maur, I can write, because I have more
head and more leisure, but . . . Paris kills me.
MADAME DE LA FAYETTE
Letter to Madame de Sevigne (1673) (Trans.)
MORE WELCOME THAN A DIAMOND
I have expected your letter all this day with the greatest
impatience that was posible, and at last resolved to goe out
and meet the fellow, and when I came downe to the
Stables, I found him come, had sett up his horse, and was
sweeping the Stable in great Order. I could not imagin him
so very a beast as to think his horses were to bee served be-
fore mee, and therfor was presently struck with an appre-
hension hee had no letter for mee, it went Colde to my
heart as Ice, and hardly left mee courage enough to aske
him the question, but when hee had drawled it out that
hee thought there was a letter for mee in his bag I quickly
made him leave his broome. Twas well tis a dull fellow,
hee could not but have discern'd else that I was strangely
overjoyed with it, and Earnest to have it, for though the
poor fellow made what hast hee coulde to unty his bag,
I did nothing but chide him for being soe slow. At Last
I had it, and in Earnest I know not whither an intire dia-
mond of the bignesse on't would have pleased mee half
soe well.
DOROTHY OSBORNE
Letter to Sir William Temple (1653)
CARRIED BY BIRDS
think 'tis not to be doubted that Swallowes have been
taught to carry Letters betwixt two Armies. But 'tis cer-
tain that when the Turks besieged Malta or Rodes (I now
remember not which 'twas) Pigeons are then related to
carry and recarry Letters. And Mr G. Sander in his
Travels (fol. 269) relates it to bee done be twist Aleppo and
Babylon.
IZAAK WALTON
The Compleat Angler (1653)
Too ARDENT
I have moreover read your letter. For it I do not thank
you. It afforded me neither pleasure nor amusement. In-
deed, my Friend, this Letter of yours has, to my mind,
more than one fault. I do not allude to its being egotistical.
To speak of onself is, they say, a privilege of Friendship.
. . . There is about your Letter a mystery which I detest.
It is so full of meaning words underlined, meaning sen-
tences half finished ; meaning blanks with notes of admira-
tion; and meaning quotations from foreign languages, that
139
really in this abundance of meaning ... I am somewhat
at a loss to discover what you would be at. I know how
you will excuse yourself on this score : you will say that
you knew my Mother would see your Letter; and that, of
course, you cared not what difficulties I as Interpreter
might be subjected, so that you got your feelings towards
me expressed. Now, Sir, once for all, I beg you to under-
stand that I dislike as much as my Mother disapproves
your somewhat too ardent expressions of friendship to-
wards me ; and that if you cannot write to me as to a man
who feels a deep interest in your welfare, who admires
your talents, respects your virtues, and for the sake of these
has often — perhaps too often — overlooked your faults ; —
if you cannot write to me as if — as if you were married,
you need never waste ink or paper on me more.
JANE WELSH
Letter to Thomas Carlyle (1822)
COURTESY
THE MASTER
I wish further that he carie himselfe pleasant and courte-
ous unto his folke, not commanding them any thing in his
choler. Boisterous and rough handling will prevaile as
little with men, as with stiffenecked jades. Let him speake
140
familiarly unto them, let him laugh and jest with them
sometimes, and also either give them occasion, or else
suffer them to laugh and be merrie. For their uncessant
paines are somewhat mitigated, when they are vouchsafed
some gentle and courteous intreatance of their maister
towards them.
Notwithstanding I wish him not to be too familiar with
them for the avoiding of contempt. Neither would I have
him to acquainte them with his purposes, except it be
sometimes to aske their counsell in a matter, and let him
not spare sometimes to seeme to doe after their advise,
though he had determined the same course before : for
they will worke with more cheerfulness, when they thinke
that the matter is caried according to their invention. . . .
Let him patiently and quietly beare their tedious and
troublesome natures, whom he knoweth to envie and
repine at him, never falling out with them, or giving them
any just occasion of displeasure : but winking at that ever
which he knoweth of their nature and naturall inclination,
let him pleasure them to the utmost that he can, and seeme
to be at one with them. . . . And thus he may purchase
rest and peace.
CHARLES ESTIENNE
La Maison Rustique (1572)
Trans. Richard Surflet (1600)
THANKS FOR A BOOK
Worthy Sir,
I have receaved ... the booke of Sir George Ent of the
Use of Respiration. It is a very learned and ingeniose
141
tooke full of true and deepe philosophy. I pray you to pre-
sent unto him my most humble service. Though I recieved
it but three dayes since, yet, drawen-on by the easinesse of
the style and elegancy of the language, I have read it all
over, and I give you most humble thankes for sending it
me. I pray you present my service to Mr Hooke.
I am. Sir, your most obliged and humble servant,
Tho: Hobbes.
THOMAS HOBBES
Letter to John Aubrey (1679)
DIFFERING POLITELY
It is as uncharitable a point in us to fall upon those popular
scurrilities and opprobrious scoffs of the Bishop of Rome,
to whom, as a temporal Prince, we owe the duty of good
language. I confess there is cause of passion between us :
by his sentence I stand excommunicated ; Heretick is the
best language he affords me ; yet can no ear witness I ever
returned him the name of Antichrist, Man of Sin, or
Whore of Babylon. It is the method of Charity to suffer
without reaction ; those usual Satyrs and invectives of the
Pulpit may perchance produce a good effect on the vulgar,
whose ears are opener to Rhetorick than Logick ; yet do
they in no wise confirm the faith of wiser Believers, who
know that a good cause needs not to be patron'd by pas-
sion, but can sustain it self upon a temperate dispute.
SIR THOMAS BROWNE
Religio Medici (1642)
142
CREDULITY
To CURE THE GOUT
Madame de Bouxols, Marshal Berwick's daughter,
assured me that there was nothing so good for the gout, as
to preserve the parings of my nails in a bottle close-
stopped.
HORACE WALPOLE
Letter to Thomas Gray (1765)
A PECULIAR PEOPLE
There are two rivers Atoica and Cacra, and on that
braunch which is called Caora are a nation of people whose
heades appeare not above their shoulders, which though it
may be thought a meere fable, yet for mine owne parte I
am resolves it is true, because every child in the provinces
of Arromaia and Canuri affirme the same : they are called
Ewaipanoma : they are reported to have their eyes in their
shoulders, and their mouths in the middle of their breasts,
and that a long train of haire groweth backward betwen
143
their shoulders. . . . For mine owne part I saw them not,
but I am resolved that so many people did not all com-
bine, or forethinke to make the report.
SIR WALTER RALEIGH
The Discoverie of Guiana (1596)
SPIRITS ON THE STAIRS LIKE BEES
In those darke [Elizabethan] times astrologer, mathema-
tician, and conjurer, were accounted the same things ; and
the vulgar did verily beleeve him to be a conjurer. He had
a great many mathematicall instruments and glasses in his
chamber, which did also confirme the ignorant in their
opinion, and his servitor (to impose on freshmen and
simple people) would tell them that sometimes he should
meet the spirits comeing up his staires like bees. . . . Now
there is to some men a great lechery in lying, and imposing
on the understandings of simple people, and he thought it
for his credit to serve such a master. . . . One time ... he
happened to leave his watch in the chamber windowe —
(watches were then rarities) . The maydes came in to make
the bed, and hearing a thing in a case cry Tick, Tick, Tick,
presently concluded that that was his Devill, and tooke it
by the string with the tongues, and threw it out of the win-
do we into the mote (to drowne the Devill) . It so happened
that the string hung upon a sprig of an elder that grew out
of the mote, and this confirm'd them that 'twas the Devill.
So the good old gentleman gott his watch again.
JOHN AUBREY
Brief Lives : Thomas Allen (c. 1680)
144
WITCHES
For my part, I have ever believed, and do now know, that
there are Witches : they that doubt of these, do not onely
deny them, but Spirits, and are obliquely and upon conse-
quence a sort not of Infidels, but Atheists.
SIR THOMAS BROWNE
Religio Medici (1642)
A MONSTER
By and by we are called to Sir W. Batten's to see the
strange creature that Captain Holmes hath brought with
him from Guiny ; it is a great baboon, but so much like a
man in many things that though they say there is a species
of them, yet I cannot believe but that it is a monster got
out of a man and a she-baboon. I do believe that it already
undestands much English, and I am of the mind it might
be taught to speak or make signs.
SAMUEL PEPYS
Diary (Aug. 24, 1661)
VERY STRANGE
At noon to my Lord Crew's, where one Mr. Templer (an
ingenious man and a person of honour he seems to be)
dined ; and, discoursing of the nature of serpents, he told
us some that in the waste places of Lancashire do grow to a
great bigness, and that do feed upon larks, which they take
thus : — They observe when the lark is soared to the
highest, and so crawl till they come to be just underneath
them ; and there they place themselves with their mouths
uppermost, and there, as it is conceived, they do eject
poyson up to the bird ; for the bird do suddenly come
down again in its course of a circle, and falls directly into
the mouth so of the serpent ; which is very strange.
Ibid. (Feb. 4, 1662)
DELIGHTING TO TERATOLOGIZE
I think (if you can give me leave to be free with you), that
you are a little inclineable to credit strange relations. I
have found men that are not skilfull in the history of
Nature very credulous and apt to impose upon themselves
and others, ... or delight to teratologize (pardon the word)
and to make shew of knowing strange things.
JOHN RAY
Letter to John Aubrey (1691)
CURING THE AGUE
I took, early in the morning, a good dose of Elixir, and
hung three spiders about my neck, and they drove my
ague away — Deo gratias.
ELIAS ASHMOLE
Life (April u, 1681)
146
SANGUINE
Mr. Noel has the Letter of Resolution concerning Origen
to convey to your Ladiship. I am persuaded it will please
you better than any Romance.
HENRY MORE
Letter to Lady Conway (1661)
CURIOUS SIGHTS
REMARKABLE RIVERS
And one of no lesse credit than Aristotle tells us of a
merry River, the River Elusina, that dances at the noise
of Musick, for with Musick it bubbles, dances, and growes
sandy, and so continues til the musick ceases, but then it
presently returnes to its wonted calmnesse and clearnesse.
. . . And . . . one of no lesse authority than Josephus that
learned Jew, tells us of a River in Judea, that runs swiftly
all the six dayes of the week, and stands still and rests
all their Sabbath.
IZAAK WALTON
The Compleat Angler (1653)
147
AMUSING TOYS
In another chamber are divers sorts of instruments of
musiq : amongst other toys that of a satyre, which so arti-
ficially expressed a human voice, with the motion of eyes
and head, that it might easily affright one who was not
prepared for that most extravagant sight. They shewed
us also a chayre that catches fast any who sitts downe in
it, so as not to be able to stirr, but, by certaine springs
concealed in the arms and back thereoff, which at sitting
downe surprizes a man on the suddaine, locking him in
by the armes and thighs, after a true trecherous Italian
guise. . . . Here stands a rare clock of German worke ;
in a word, nothing but what is magnificent is to be scene
in this paradise.
JOHN EVELYN
Diary (Villa Borghese, Nov. 17, 1644)
CORPSE OF A YOUNG LADY
In one of these monuments Pancirollus tells us that, in the
time of Paul III, there was found the body of a young lady,
swimming in a kind of bath of precious oyle or liquor,
fresh and entire as if she had been living, neither her
face discolour'd, nor her hair disorder'd ; at her feet burnt
a lamp, which suddenly expir'd at the opening of the
vault; having flam'd, as was computed, now 1500 years,
by the conjecture that she was TulHola, the daughter of
Cicero, whose body was thus found, as the inscription
testified.
Ibid.
(Fossa Nuova, Jan. 28, 1645)
148
DANCING
ANTINOUS EXPLAINS IT
i
Where lives the man that never yet did heare
Of chaste Penelope, Ulisscs* Queene ? . . .
3-
Homer doth tell in his aboundant verse,
The long laborious travailes of the Man ;
And of his lady too he doth reherse
How shee illudes with all the art she can,
Th' ungratefull love which other lords began ;
4-
All this he tells, but one thing he forgot.
One thing most worthy his eternall song ;
But he was old, and blind, and saw it not,
Or else he thought he should Ulisses wrong,
To mingle it his tragike acts among ;
Yet was there not in all the world of things
A sweeter burden for his Muse's wings.
5-
The courtly love Antinous did make :
Antinous that fresh and jolly knight,
Which of the gallants that did undertake
149
To win the widdow, had most wealth and might,
Wit to perswade, and beautie to delight :
The courtly love he made unto the Queene,
Homer forgot, as if it had not beene.
7-
One onely night's discourse I can report,
When the great Torch-bearer of Heaven was gone
Downe in a maske unto the Ocean's Court,
To revell it with Thetis all alone ;
Antinons disguised and unknowne,
Like to the Spring in gaudie ornament,
Unto the Castle of the Princesse went.
ii.
Only Antinous when at first he view'd
Her starbright eyes, that with new honour shind ;
Was not dismayd, but there-with-all renew'd
The noblesse and the splendour of his mind ;
And as he did fit circumstances find,
Unto the throne he boldly gan advance,
And with faire maners wooed the Queene to dance.
12.
" Goddesse of women, sith your heav'nlinesse
Hath now vouchsaft it selfe to represent
To our dim eyes, which though they see the lesse
Yet are they blest in their astonishment ;
Imitate heav'n, whose beauties excellent
Are in continuall motion day and night,
And move thereby more wonder and delight.
13-
Let me the moover be, to turne about
Those glorious ornaments, that Youth and Love
150
Have fixed in you, every part throughout ;
Which if you will in timely measure move.
Not all those precious jemms in heav'n above,
Shall yeeld a sight more pleasing to behold.
With all their turnes and tracings manifold. "
14-
With this the modest Princesse blusht and smiPd,
Like to a cleare and rosie eventide,
And softly did returne this answer mild :
" Faire Sir, you needs must fairely be denide
Where your demaunde cannot be satisfide ;
My feet, which onely Nature taught to goe,
Did never yet the art of footing know.
15-
But why perswade you me to this new rage ?
(For all disorder and misrule is new)
For such misgovernmcnt in former age
Our old divine Forefathers never knew ; . . ."
16.
" Sole heire of Vertue and of Beautie both,
Whence cometh it " (Antinous replies)
" That your imperious vertue is so loth
To grant your beauty her chiefe excercise ?
Or from what spring doth your opinion rise
That dauncing is a frenzy and a rage,
First known and us'd in this new-fangled age ?
17-
Dauncing (bright Lady) then began to bee, The
When the first seeds whereof the World did spring of rS
The fire, ayre, earth, and water—did agree,
By Love's perswasion,— Nature's mighty King—
151
To leave their first disordred combating ;
And in a daunce each measure to observe,
As all the world their motion should preserve,
19-
Like this, he fram'd the gods' eternall Bower,
And of a shapelesse and confused masse,
By his through-piercing and digesting power,
The turning vault of heaven formed was ;
Whose starry wheeles he hath so made to passe,
As that their moovings do a musicke frame,
And they themselves still daunce unto the same.
22.
How justly then is Dauncing tearmcd new,
Which with the World in point of time begun ?
Yea Time it selfe (whose birth Jove never knew,
And which indeed is older then the sun)
Had not one moment of his age outrunne,
When out leapt Dauncing from the heap of things,
And lightly rode upon his nimble wings." . . .
28.
S?emai of when Love ha(i shapt this World,— this great fairs Wight,
Dancing That all wights else in this wide womb containes ;
And had instructed it to daunce aright,
A thousand measures with a thousand straines,
Which it should practise with delightfull paines,
Untill that fatall instant should revolve,
When all to nothing should againe resolve :
29.
The comely order and proportion faire
On every side, did please his wandring eye :
Till glauncing through the thin transparent ayre,
A rude disordered rout he did espie
152
Of men and women, that most spightfully
Did one another throng, and crowd so sore.
That his kind eye in pitty wept therefore.
3°-
And swifter then the lightning downe he came.
Another shapelesse Chaos to digest ;
He will begin another world to frame,
(For Love till all be well will never rest)
Then with such words as cannot be exprest,
He cutts the troups, that all asunder fling,
And ere they wist, he casts them in a ring.
33-
" If Sence hath not yet taught you, learne of me ^LoS
A comely moderation and discreet ; mcnTo
That your assemblies may well ordered bee Dancing
When my uniting power shall make you meet,
With heav'nly tunes it shall be tempered sweet :
And be the modell of the World's great frame,
And you, Earth's children, Daunting shall it name.
34-
Behold the World., how it is whirled round)
And for it is so whirl'd, is named so ;
In whose large volume many rules are found
Of this new Art, which it doth fairely show ;
For your quicke eyes, in wandring too and fro
From East to West, on no one thing can glaunce,
But if you marke it well, it seemes to daunce.
35-
First you see fixt in this huge mirrour blew |^fy
Of trembling lights, a number numberlesse : Ihe'tSi
Fixt they are nam'd, but with a name untrue, *tars'
For they all moove, and in a Daunce expressc
153
That great long yeare, that doth containe no lesse
Then threescore hundreds of those yeares in all.
Which the sunne makes with his course naturall.
37-
Under that spangled skye, five wandring flames
Besides the King of Day, and Queene of Night,
Are wheel'd around, all in their sundry frames,
And all in sundry measure doe delight,
Yet altogether keepe no measure right ;
For by it selfe each doth it selfe advance,
And by it selfe each doth a galliard daunce.
39-
For that brave Sunne the Father of the Day,
Doth love this Earth, the Mother of the Night ;
And like a revellour in rich aray,
Doth daunce his galliard in his lemman's sight,
Both back, and forth, and sidewaies, passing light ;
His princely grace doth so the gods amaze,
That all stand still and at his beauty gaze.
40.
But see the Earth, when he approcheth neere,
How she for joy doth spring and sweetly smile ;
But see againe her sad and heavy cheere
When changing places he retires a while ;
But those blake cloudes he shortly will exile,
And make them all before his presence flye.
As mists consum'd before his cheereful eye.
41.
Who doth not see the measures of the Moone,
Which thirteene times she daunceth every yeare ?
And ends her pavine thirteene times as soone
As doth her brother, of whose golden haire
154
She borroweth part and proudly doth it weare ;
Then doth she coyly turne her face aside.
Then half her cheeke is scarse sometimes discride.
43-
And now behold your tender nurse the Ayre oftheAyre.
And common neighbour that ay runs around ;
How many pictures and impressions faire
Within her empty regions are there found ;
Which to your sences Dauncing doe propound.
For what are Breath, Speech., Ecchos, Mnsicke, Winds,
But Dauncings of the Ayre in sundry kinds ?
46.
And thou sweet Musicke, Dauncing's onely life.
The eare's sole happinesse, the ayre's best speach ;
Loadstone of fellowship, charming-rod of strife.
The soft mind's Paradice, the sicke mind's leach ;
With thine own tong, thou trees and stons canst teach,
That when the Aire doth dance her finest measure,
Then art thou borne, the gods and mens sweet pleasure.
47-
Lastly, where keepe the Winds their revelry,
Their violent turnings, and wild whirling hayes,
But in the Ayre's tralucent gallery ?
Where shee herselfe is turnd a hundreth wayes,
While with those Maskers wantonly she playes ;
Yet in this misrule, they such rule embrace,
As two at once encomber not the place.
49-
For loe the Sea that fleets about the Land, Of the s«-
And like a girdle clips her solid waist,
Musicke and measure both doth understand;
For his great chrystall eye is alwayes cast
155
Up to the Moone, and on her fixed fast ;
And as she daunceth in her pallid spheere,
So daunceth he about his Centre heere.
50.
Sometimes his proud greene waves in order set,
One after other flow into the shore ;
Which, when they have with many kisses wet,
They ebbe away in order as before ;
And to make knowne his courtly love the more,
He oft doth lay aside his three-forkt mace,
And with his armes the timorous Earth embrace.
51-
Onely the Earth doth stand for ever still :
Her rocks remove not, nor her mountaines meet :
(Although some wits enricht with Learning's skill
Say heav'n stands firme, and that the Earth doth fleet,
And swiftly turneth underneath their feet)
Yet though the Earth is ever stedfast seene,
On her broad breast hath Dauncing ever beene.
52.
For those blew vaines that through her body spred,
Those saphire streames which from great hils do spring,
(The Earth's great duggs, for every wight is fed
With sweet fresh moisture from them issuing) :
Observe a daunce in their wilde wandering ;
And still their daunce begets a murmur sweet,
And still the murmur with the daunce doth meet.
53-
Of all their wayes I love Meander's path,
Which to the tunes of dying swans doth daunce ;
Such winding sleights, such turns and tricks he hath,
Such creeks, such wrenches, and such daliaunce ;
156
That whether it be hap or heedlesse chaunce,
In this indented course and wriggling play
He seemes to daunce a perfect cunning hay.
55-
See how those flowres that have sweet beauty too, °f other
J * things upon
(The onely jewels that the Earth doth weare, the edrth-
When the young Sunne in bravery her doth woo) :
As oft as they the whistling wind doe heare,
Doe wave their tender bodies here and there ;
And though their daunce no perfect measure is3
Yet oftentimes their musicke makes them kis.
59-
But why relate I every singular ?
Since all the World's great fortunes and affaires
Forward and backward rapt and whirled are.
According to the musicke of the spheares :
And Chaunge herself her nimble feete upbeares :
On a round slippery wheele that rowleth aye,
And turnes all States with her imperious sway.
60.
Learnc then to daunce, you that are Princes borne,
And lawfull lords of earthly creatures all ;
Imitate them, and therof take no scorne,
For this new art to them is naturall—
And imitate the starres celestial! :
For when pale Death your vital twist shall sever,
Your better parts must daunce with them for ever."
61.
Thus Love perswadcs, and all the crowde of men
That stands around, doth make a murmuring ;
As when the wind loosed from his hollow den
Among the trees a gentle base doth sing,
157
Or as a brooke through pebbles wandering ;
But in their looks they uttered this plain speach,
That they would learn to daunce, if Love would teach
64.
Rounds or Thus when at first Love had them marshalled,
Dances. As earst he did the shapelesse masse of things,
He taught them rounds and winding heyes to tread,
And about trees to cast themselves in rings :
As the two Beares, whom the First Mover flings
With a short turn about heaven's axeltree,
In a round daunce for ever wheeling be.
70.
Lavoitaes. Yet is there one, the most dclightfull kind,
A loftie jumping, or a leaping round ;
Where arme in arme two dauncers are entwind
And whirle themselves with strict embracements bound,
And still their feet an anapest do sound ;
An anapest is all their musick's song,
Whose first two feet are short, and third is long.
71-
As the victorious twinnes of Loeda and Jove
That taught the Spartans dauncing on the sands
Of swift Eurotas, daunce in heavn above,
Knit and united with eternall hands ;
Among the starres their double image stands,
Where both are carried with an equall pace,
Together jumping in their turning race.
76.
Thus Love taught men, and men thus learn'd of Love
Sweet Musick's sound with feet to counterfaite ; . , .
77-
Since when all ceremonious misteries,
All sacred orgies and religious rights,
All pomps, and triumphs, and solemnities, 7he use*nd
r r > r > y formes of
All funerals, nuptials, and like publike sights, ^unSr1"8 m
All Parliaments of peace, and warlike fights, affaires of
r rr mai1 S llfe<
All learned arts, and every great anaire
A lively shape of dauncing seems to beare.
87.
For after townes and kingdomes founded were,
Betweene greate States arose well-ordered War ;
Wherein most perfect measure doth appeare,
Whether their well-set ranks respected are
In quadrant forme or semicircular :
Or else the march, when all the troups advance,
And to the drum, in gallant order daunce.
88.
And after Warrs, when white-wing'd Victory
Is with a glorious tryumph beautified,
And every one doth lo lo cry,
Whiles all in gold the conquerour doth ride ;
The solemne pompe that fils the Citty wide
Observes such ranke and measure everywhere,
As if they altogether dauncing were.
97-
The Quecne, whose dainty cares had borne too long
The tedious praise of that she did despise ;
Adding once more the musicke of the tongue
To the sweet speech of her alluring eyes,
Began to answer in such winning wise,
As that forthwith Antinous* tongue was tyde,
His eyes fast fixt, his earcs were open wide.
98.
" Forsooth " (quoth she\ " great glory you have won
To your trim minion, Dauncing, all this while,
By blazing him Love's first begotten sonnc ; . . .
159
101.
What meane the mermayds when they daunce and sing
But certaine death unto the marriner ?
What tydings doe the dauncing dilphins bring,
But that some dangerous storme approcheth nere ?
Then sith both Love and Dauncing lyveries beare
Of such ill hap, unhappy may I prove,
If sitting free, I either daunce or love."
102.
Yet once again Antinous did reply ; . . .
106.
" Love in the twinckling of your eylids daunceth,
Love daunceth in your pulses and your vaines,
Love when you sow, your needle's point advanceth
And makes it daunce a thousand curious straines
Of winding rounds, whereof the forme remaines ;
To shew, that your faire hands can daunce the hey,
Which your fine feet would learne as well as they.
in.
If they whom sacred Love hath link't in one,
Doe as they daunce, in all their course of life,
Never shall burning griefe nor bitter mone,
Nor factious difference, nor unkind strife,
Arise between the husband and the wife ;
For whether forth or bake or round he goe,
As the man doth, so must the woman doc.
116.
Who sees an Armie all in ranke advance,
But seemes a wise Commaunder is in place,
Which leadeth on that brave victorious daunce ?
Much more in Dauncing's Art, in Dauncing's grace,
1 60
Blindness it selfe may Reason's footstep trace ;
For of Love's maze it is the curious plot,
And of Man's fellowship the true-love knot.
117.
But if these eyes of yours, (load-starrs of Love,
Shewing the World's great daunce to your mind's eye !)
Cannot with all their demonstrations move
Kinde apprehension in your fantasie,
Of Dauncing's vertue and nobilitie ;
How can my barbarous tongue win you there to.
Which Heav'n and Earth's faire speech could never do ?
118.
O Love my king : if all my wit and power
Have done you all the service that they can,
O be you present in this present hower,
And help your servant and your true Leige-man
End that perswasion which I earst began ;
For who in praise of Dauncing can perswade
With such sweet force as Love, which Dancing made ? "
SIR JOHN DAVIES, Orchestra (1594)
WICKED DANCING
COMUS enters with a Charming Rod in one hand, his
Glass in the other, with him a rout of Monsters, headed
like sundry sorts of wilde Beasts, but otherwise like Men
and Women, their Apparel glistering, they come in making
a riotous and unruly noise, with Torches in their hands.
COMUS :
The Star that bids the Shepherd fold,
Now the top of Heav'n doth hold,
FP 161
And the gilded Car of Day,
His glowing Axle doth allay
In the steep Atlantick stream,
And the slope Sun his upward beam
Shoots against the dusky Pole,
Pacing toward the other gole
Of his Chamber in the East.
Mean while welcom Joy, and Feast,
Midnight shout, and revelry,
Tipsie dance, and Jollity.
Braid your Locks with rosie Twine
Dropping odours, dropping Wine.
Rigor now is gon to bed,
And Advice with scrupulous head,
Strict Age, and sowre Severity,
With their grave Saws in slumber lie.
We that are of purer fire
Imitate the Starry Quire,
Who in their nightly watchfull Sphears,
Lead in swift round the Months and Years.
The Sounds, and Seas with all their finny drove
Now to the Moon in wavering Morrice move,
And on the Tawny Sands and Shelves,
Trip the pert Fairies and the dapper Elves ;
By dimpled Brook, and Fountain brim.
The Wood-Nymphs deckt with Daisies trim,
Their merry wakes and pastimes keep :
What hath night to do with sleep ? . . .
Com, knit hands, and beat the ground,
In a light fantastick round. . . .
The LADY enters.
LADY :
This way the noise was, if mine ear be true,
162
My best guide now, me thought it was the sound
Of Riot, and ill-manag'd Merriment,
Such as the jocund Flute, or gamesom Pipe
Stirs up among the loosse unletter'd Hinds,
When for their teeming Flocks, and granges full
In wanton dance they praise the bounteous Pan,
And thank the gods amiss. I should be loath
To meet the rudeness, and swill'd insolence
Of such late Wassailers.
JOHN MILTON
Comus (1634)
IMMODERATION
Now it chanced that those of the wooers pleased him most
who had come from Athens, and of these Hippocleides
the son of Tisander was rather preferred, both by reason
of manly virtues and also because he was connected by
descent with the family of Kypselos at Corinth. Then
when the appointed day came for the marriage banquet
and for Clcisthcnes himself to declare whom he selected
from the whole number, Cleisthenes sacrificed a hundred
oxen and feasted both the wooers themselves and all the
people of Sikyon ; and when the dinner was over, the
wooers began to vie with one another both in music and
in speeches for the entertainment of the company ; and
as the drinking went forward and Hippocleides was very
much holding the attention of the others, he bade the
flute-player play for him a dance-measure ; and when the
flute-player did so, he danced : and it so befell that he
pleased himself in his dancing, but Cleisthenes looked on
at the whole matter with suspicion. Then Hippocleides
after a certain time bade one bring in a table ; and when
the table came in, first he danced upon it Laconian figures,
and then also Attic, and thirdly he planted his head upon
the table and gesticulated with his legs. Cleisthenes mean-
while, when he was dancing the first and second time,
though he abhorred the thought that Hippocleides should
now become his son-in-law, because of his dancing and
his shamelessness, yet restrained himself, not desiring to
break out in anger against him ; but when he saw that he
thus gesticulated with his legs, he was no longer able to
restrain himself, but said : " Thou hast danced away thy
marriage, nevertheless, son of Tisander ! " and Hippo-
cleides answered and said " Hippocleides cares not ! "
and hence comes this saying.
HERODOTUS
History (5th cent. B.C.)
Trans. G. C. Macaulay
ELVES
Or Faerie Elves,
Whose midnight Revels, by a Forrest side
Or Fountain some belated Peasant sees,
Or dreams he sees, while over head the Moon
Sits Arbitress, and neerer to the Earth
Wheels her pale course, they on thir worth and dance
Intent, with jocond Music charm his ear ;
At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds.
JOHN MILTON
Paradise Lost, Book I (1667)
164
MORRIS
The first mundaye in Lent . . . my selfe, thats I, otherwise
called Cavaliero Kemp, head-master of Morrice-dancers
. . . began frolickly to foote it from the right honourable
the Lord Mayors of London towards the right worshipfull
(and truely bountifull) Master Mayors of Norwich. My
setting forward was somewhat before seaven in the morn-
ing ; my Taberer stroke up merrily ; and as fast as kinde
people thronging together would give me leave, thorow
London I leapt.
[And so to Norwich in nine days.]
WILLIAM KEMP
Nine Dales Wonder (1600)
Hey ! who comes heere ail-along.
With bag-piping and drumming ?
'Tis the Morris daunce a-comming.
Come., come, ladies, come ladies out ;
O ! come, come quickly,
And see how trim they daunce, how trim and trickly.
Hey ! there againe, there again ; hey ho there agayne
Hey ! there againe, how the bells they shake it,
Now for our town once, and take it.
Soft awhile, not so fast ; they melt them :
What ho Piper ! Piper be hang'd awhile :
Knave, scest not the dauncers how they swelt them ?
Out there awhile you come : I say you are too farr in ;
There, give the hobby horse more room to play in.
THOMAS MORLEY
Madrigalh to four e Voyces (1594)
LIGHT FOOT
When thou dos't dance the Spheares doe play,
By Night Starrs torches. Sunn by day
Each stepp soe loath to wrong thy Birth,
Affraide to hurt thy Mother Earth,
The tender blades of Grass when thou
dos't dance upon them doe not bowe.
The falling dew to doth thee Wooe
When tripps't on it scarse wetts thy shoe,
Then Lady like doth Change thy minde
and Dances on the Wavering wind
The thynner Ayre strives thine to meete
to Tread it with thy Gentle feete.
JOHN GAMBLE (?)
When thou dost dance (before 1687)
DANCING TREES
NIGHT :
Tis now a time when (Zephyrus) all with dancing
Honor me, above day my state advancing.
lie now be frolicke, all is full of hart,
And ev'n these trees for joy shall beare a part :
Zephyrus they shall dance.
ZEPHYRUS :
Daunce, Goddesse ? how ?
NIGHT :
Seemes that so full of strangenes to you now ?
Did not the Thracian harpe long since the same ?
And (if we ripp the ould records of fame)
166
Did not Amphions lyre the deafe stones call.
When they came dancing to the Theban wall ? . . .
Dauncing, and musicke must prepare the way,
Ther's little tedious time in such delay.
This spoken^ the foure SILVANS played on their instru-
ments the first straine of this song following : . . . the
trees of gould . . . began to move., and dance according
to the measure of the time which the musitians kept in
singing . . .
Move now with measured sound
You charmed grove of gould.
Trace forth the sacred ground
That shall your formes unfold.
Diana, and the starry night for your Apollos sake
Endue your Silvan shapes with powre this strange
delight to make
Much joy must needs the place betide where trees for
gladnes move,
A fairer sight was nere beheld, or more expressing love,
Yet neerer Phoebus throne
Mete on your winding waies,
Your Brydall mirth make knowne
In your high-graced Hayes.
Let Hymen lead your sliding rounds, and guide them
with his light,
While we do lo Hymen sing in honour of this night
Joyne three by three, for so the night by triple spel
decrees
Now to release Apollos knights from these enchanted
trees.
167
This dancing-song being ended, the goulden trees stood in
rankes three by three
Tell me, gentle howre of night
Wherein dost thou most delight ?
Not in sleepe . . . wherein then ?
In the frolicke vew of men ?
Lovest thou musicke ? Howre. O, tis sweet.
Whats daunting ? Howre. Ev'n the mirth of feete.
Joy you in Fayries and in elves ?
We are of that sort our selves. THQMAS CAMpION
Maske . . . in honour of the Lord Hayes, and his Bride
(1607)
CUMBERLAND DANCING
After Skiddaw we walked to Ireby, the oldest market town
in Cumberland, where we were greatly amused by a coun-
try dancing-school holden at the Tun ; it was indeed no
new cotillon fresh from France; No, they kickit and jumpit
with mettle extraordinary, and whiskit and friskit, and
toed it and go'd it, and twirl'd it and whirPd it, and
stamped it and sweated it, tatooing the floor like mad. The
difference between our country dances and these Scottish
figures is about the same as leisurely stirring a cup o' tea
and beating up a batter pudding. I was extremely gratified
to think that, if I had pleasures they knew nothing of,
they had also some into which I could not possibly
Cnter- JOHN KEATS
Letter to Thomas Keats (1818)
168
DAY-DREAMS
* GOING TO MARYLAND
Now if I would be rich, I could be a prince. I could goe
into Maryland, which is one of the finest countrys of the
world ; same climate with France ; between Virginia and
New England. I can have all the favour of my lord Balte-
more I could wish. His brother is his lieutenant there,
and a very good natured gentleman. Plenty of all things :
ground there is 2000 miles westwards.
I could be able I believe to carry a colony of rogues ;
another of ingeniose artificers ; and I doubt not one might
make a shift to have 5 or 6 ingeniose companions, which
is enough.
JOHN AUBREY
Brief Lives : William Butler (c. 1680)
A MELODRAMATIC LIFE
I sometimes feel a little uneasy about that imagined self
of mine — the Me of my daydreams — who leads a melo-
dramatic life of his own, quite unrelated to my real exist-
ence. So one day I shadowed him down the street. He
169
loitered along for a while, and then stood at a shop-window
and dressed himself out in a gaudy tie and yellow waistcoat.
Then he bought a great sponge and two stuffed birds and
took them to lodgings, where he led for a while a shady
existence. Next he moved to a big house in Mayfair, and
gave grand dinner-parties, with splendid service and costly
wines. His amorous adventures in this region I pass over.
He soon sold his house and horses, dismissed his retinue of
servants, and went — saving two young ladies from being
run over on the way — to live a life of heroic self-sacrifice
among the poor.
I was beginning to feel encouraged about him, when
in passing a fishmongers, he pointed with his stick at a
great salmon and said, " I caught that fish."
LOGAN PEARSALL SMITH
Trivia (1918)
DECANAL
A GOOD DISH
The King appointed Doctor Donne to waite on him at
dinner the next day ; and his Majesty (being set down)
before he eat any meat, said (after his pleasant manner)
Doctor Donne, I have invited you to dinner, and though
you sit not downe with me, yet I will carve to you of a dish
170
that I know you love ; you love London well,, I doe there-
fore make you Deane of Pauls, and) when I have dined, take
your meate home to your study, say grace, and much good
may it doe you.
IZAAK WALTON
The Life and Death of Dr. Donne (1640)
DEPLORING THE
DECADENCE OF THE AGE
WORSE AND WORSE
Damnosa quid non imminuit dies ?
Aetas parentum, peior avis, tulit
Nos nequiores, mox daturos
Progeniem vitiosiorem.
HORACE
In Romanes moribus corruptos. Carmina, Bk III
(C. 20 B.C.)
THE HUMOUR OF MANY HEADS
Which very absurdity is daily committed amonst us, even
in the esteem and censure of our own times. And to speak
impartially, old Men, from whom we should expect the
171
greatest example of Wisdom, do most exceed in this point
of folly ; commending the days of their youth, which
they scarce remember, at least well understood not ;
extolling those times their younger ears have heard their
Fathers condemn, and condemning those times the gray
heads of their posterity shall commend. And thus is it the
humour of many heads, to extol the days of their Fore-
fathers, and declaim against the wickedness of times pre-
sent. Which notwithstanding they cannot handsomly do,
without the borrowed help and Satyrs of times past ;
condemning the vices of their own times, by the expres-
sions of vices in times which they commend ; which cannot
but argue the community of vice in both.
SIR THOMAS BROWNE
Pseudodoxia Epidemica (1646)
WHAT WE WERE BEFORE, AND WHAT WE
ARE Now
Consider with thy selfe (gentle Reader) the olde discipline
of Englande, mark what we were before, and what we are
now : . . . cast thine eye backe to thy Predecessors, and tell
mee ho we wonderfully wee have beene chaunged, since wee
were schooled with these abuses. Dion sayth, that english
men could suffer watching and labor, hunger and thirst,
and beare of al stormes with hed and shoulders, they used
slender weapons, went naked, and were good soldiours,
they fed uppon rootes and barkes of trees, they would
stand up to the chin many dayes in marishes without
victualles : and they had a kind of sustenaunce in time of
neede, of which if they had taken but the quantitie of a
172
beane, or the weight of a pease, they did neyther gape after
meate, nor long for the cuppe, a great while after. The
men in valure not yeelding to Scithia, the women in cour-
age passing the Amazons. The exercise of both was shoot-
yng and dancing, running and wrestling, and trying such
maisteries, as eyther consisted in swiftnesse of feete,
agilitie of body, strength of armes, or Martiall discipline.
But the exercise that is nowe among us, is banqueting,
playing, pipyng, and dauncing, and all suche delightes as
may win us to pleasure, or rocke us a sleepe.
Oh what a woonderfull chaunge is this ? Our wreastling
at armes is turned to wallowyng in Ladies laps, our
courage, to cowardice, our running to ryot, our Bowes
into Bolles, and our Dartes to Dishes. We have robbed
Greece of Gluttonie, Italy of wantonnesse, Spaine of pride,
Fraunce of deceite, and Dutchland of quaffing. Compare
London to Rome, and England to Italy, you shall finde the
Theaters of the one, the abuses of the other, to be rife
among us. Experto crede, I have scene somewhat, and
therefore I thinke may say the more. STEPHEN GOSSON
The Schoole of Abuse (1579)
OUR SPARKFULL YOUTH
Hitherto will our sparkefull Youth laugh at their great
grandfathers English, who had more care to do wel than to
speake minion-like, and left more glorie to us by their
exploiting of great actes, than we shall doe by our forging
anew words and uncouth phrases. WILLIAM CAMDEN
Remains concerning Britain (1605)
173
OUR PLAIN FATHERS
. . . We flourish! long,
E're idle Gentry up in such aboundance sprong,
Now pestring all this He : whose disproportion drawes
The publique wealth so drie, and only is the cause
Our gold goes out so faste, for foolish foraine things
Which upstart Gentry still into our Country brings ;
Who their insatiate pride seek chiefly to maintaine
By that, which only serves to uses vile and vaine :
Which our plaine Fathers earst would have accounted
sinne,
Before the costly Coach, and silken stock came in ;
Before that Indian weed so strongly was imbrac't ;
Wherein such mighty summes we prodigally waste ;
That Merchants long train'd up in gayn's deceitfull
schoole,
And subtly having learn'd to soothe the humorous
foole,
Present their painted toyes unto this frantique gull.
Disparaging our Tinne, our Leather, Corne, and Wooll ;
When Forrainers, with ours them cloath and feed,
Transporting trash to us, of which we nere had need.
But whilst the angry Muse thus on the Time
exclames,
Sith every thing therin consisteth in extreames.
Lest she inforc't with wrongs her limits should trans -
cend,
Here of this present Song she briefly makes an end.
MICHAEL DRAYTON
Poly-Olbion. Song XVI
(1613)
174
YOUNG PEOPLE OF THE COMMONWEALTH
'Tis strange to see the folly that possesses the young
People of this Age., and the libertys they take to them-
selv's; I have the Charrity to beleeve they appear very
much worse than they are, and that the want of a Court to
govern themselv's by is in great part the cause of theire
Ruine ; Though that was noe perfect scoole of Vertue, yet
Vice there wore her maske, and apeard soe unlike herselfe
that she gave noe scandall. Such as were realy as discreet as
they seem'd to bee, gave good Example, and the Eminency
of theire condition made others strive to imitate them, or
at least they durst not owne a contrareary course. All who
had good principles and inclinations were incouraged in
them, and such as had neither were forced to put on a
handsome disguise that they might not bee out of counten-
ance at themselves. DOROTHY OSBORNE
Letter to Sir William Temple (1654)
FRIVOLOUS LITERARY TASTE OF THE COMMONWEALTH
Plain poetry is now disesteem'd, it must be Drollery, or it
will not please. HENRY HERRINGMANj bookseller
Preface to Musarum Deliciae (1655)
CONTEMPLATING OUR FOREFATHERS
'Tis opportune to look back upon old times, and contem-
plate our Forefathers. Great examples grow thin, and to
be fetched from the passed world * Simplicity flies away,
and iniquity comes at long strides upon us.
SIR THOMAS BROWNE
Epistle Dedicatory to Hydrotaphia (1658)
DECAY OF LEARNING, PREACHING, CONVERSATION,
AND MANNERS
A reason why learning hath decayed in these later time*
and now, is the nation of England her too much admiring
the manners and fashions of the French nation, when as
there is not a gentleman of a considerable estate in Eng-
land but must have a French man or woman to breed up
their children after their way. . . .
A neglect now of the Fathers and none but foolish vaine
and florid preaching. One that discoursed! in company
scolar-like (viz. by quoting the Fathers, producing an
antient verse from the poets suitable to his discours) is
accounted pedanticall and pedagogicall. Nothing but news
and the affaires of Christendom is discoursed off, and that
also generally at coffee-houses. And clubbs at alehouses
and coffee houses have not bin up above 14 years before
this time. . . .
Decay of learning. Before the warr wee had scholars
that made a thorough search in scholasticall and polemicall
divinity, in humane authors, and naturall philosophy. But
now scholars studie these things not more than what is
just necessary to carry them throug the exercises their
respective colleges and the Universitie. Their aime is not to
live as students ought to do, viz. temperat, abstemious,
and plaine and grave in apparell ; but to live like gents, to
keep dogs and horses, to turne their studies and coleholes
into places to receive bottles, to swash it in apparell, to
weare long periwigs, etc., and the theologists to ride
abroad in grey coats with swords by their sides.
The masters have lost their respect by being themselves
scandalous and keeping company with undergraduates.
Fresh nights, caroling in public halls, Christmas
sports, vanished, 1661.
ANTHONY WOOD
Life and Times (Dec, 1661)
THIS FOLLY OF LAUGHING AT
An age wherein a zealous concernment in studies is laught
at and many wonder at the folly of those before the warr
time that spent so much time and broke their braines in
schol. divinity and metaphis. This folly of laughing at
continued wors and worse till 1679. ... An age given to
brutish pleasure and atheisme. . . . This year [1662] such
a saying come up in London, " The Bishops get all, the
Courtiers spend all, the Citizens pay for all, the King
neglects all, and the Divells take all/'
Ibid.
MEANER TRAVELLING
When I was a youth many great persons travelled with
3 horses, butt now there is a new face of things.
SIR THOMAS BROWNE
Letter to his son Edward (1680)
177
THE GOOD OLD DAYS
In those days (Elizabetha regina) . . . when a senator went
to the Parliament-house a-foote, or a horse-back with his
foot-cloath, he had at his heeles £ a dozen or 10 tall
fellowes with blew coates and badges and long basket-hilt
swords. Now forsooth only a laquey and a little spitt-pig.
The advantage that king Charles I had : gentlemen then
kept good horses, and many horses for a man-at-armes.,
and men that could ride them ; hunting-horses. Now we
are come all to our coaches forsooth ! . . . Now young men
are so farre from managing good horses, they know not
how to ride a hunting nag nor handle their weapons. . . .
In Sir Philip Sidney's time 'twas as much disgrace for a
cavalier to be seen in London rideing in a coach in the
street as now 'twould be to be seen in a petticoate and
wastcoate. They rode in the streets then with their rich
foot-cloathes, and servants wayting on them with blewe
coates and badge. . . .
T.T., an old gentleman that remembers Queen Eliza-
beth's raigne and court. ... He hath seen much in his time
both at home and abroade; and with much choler in-
veighes against things now : — " Alas ! o' God's will !
Now-a-dayes every one, forsooth ! must have coaches,
forsooth ! In those dayes gentlemen kept horses for a
man-at-armes, besides their hackney and hunting-horses.
This made the gentry robust and hardy and fitt for ser-
vice ; were able to be their owne guides in case of a rout
or so, when occasion should so require.
Our gentry forsooth in these dayes are so effeminated
that they know not how to ride on horseback. Then when
the gentry mett,it was not at a poor blind sordid ale-house,
to drinke up a barrel) of drinke and lie drunke there two
or three dayes together ; fall together by the eares.
They mett then in the fields, well-appointed, with their
hounds or their hawkes ; kept up good hospitality ; and
kept a good retinue, that would venture that bloud and
spirit that filled their vaines which their masters' tables
nourisht ; kept their tenants in due respect of them. We
had no depopulacion in those dayes.
You see in me the ruines of time. The day is almost at
end with me, and truly I am glad of it : I desire not to live
in this corrupt age. I foresawe and fortold the late changes,
and now easily foresee what will follow after. Alas ! o'
God's will ! It was not so in Queen Elizabeth's time : then
youth had respect to old age.
Revels — then the elders and better sort of the parish
sate and beheld the pastimes of the young men, as wrast-
ling, shooting at butts, bowling, and dancing. All this is
now lost ; and pride, whoring, wantonnesses, and drunken-
nesses. Then the charity of the feast, St Peter's box,
mantayned the old impotent poore."
JOHN AUBREY
Brief Lives : Thomas Tyndale (c. 1680)
LUXURY IN COLLEGE
About 1638 or 1640, when he was at Trinity College,
Dr Kettle, preaching as he was wont to do on Trinity Sun-
day, told 'em that they should keepe their bodies chast
and holy : " but," said he, " you fellows of the College here
eate good commons and drinke good double-beer. ..."
179
How would the good old Dr. have raunted and beat-up
his kettle-drum, if he should have seen such luxury in
the college as there is now ! Tempora mutantur !
Ibid.
Ralph Kettell
DECLINE OF CHEMISTS
Meredith Lloyd tells me that, three or 400 yeares ago,
chymistry was in a greater perfection, much, than now ;
their process was then more seraphique and universall :
now they looke only after medicines.
Ibid.
Brief Lives : Saint Dunstan (c. 1680)
WHAT A WRETCHED PASS
What a wretched Pass is this wicked Age come to, when
Ben. Johnson and Shakespear won't go down with 'em,
without these Baubles to recommend 'em, and nothing but
Farce and Grimaces will go down. ... In short, Mr Collier
may save himself the trouble of writing against the
Theatres, for, if these lewd Practices are not laid aside,
and Sence and Wit come in play again, a Man may easily
foretell, without pretending to the Gift of Prophesie,
that the Stage will be short-hVd.
TOM BROWN
Letter to Mr Moult (1699)
180
AN UNDOUBTED TRUTH
I know it is reckoned but a form of speech, when Divines
complain of the Wickedness of the Age. However, I
believe, upon a fair Comparison with other Times and
countries, it would be found an undoubted Truth.
JONATHAN SWIFT
Project for the Advancement of Religion
and Reformation of Manners (1709)
No PANCAKES
It hath been an old custom in Oxford for the scholars of
all houses, on Shrove Tuesday, to go to dinner at ten clock,
(at which time the little bell, called pan-cake bell., rings,
or at least should ring, at St Maries), . . . and it was always
followed in Edmund hall, as long as I have been in Oxford,
till yesterday, when they went to dinner at twelve, and to
supper at six, nor were there any fritters at dinner, as
there used always to be. When laudable old customs
alter, 'tis a sign learning dwindles. THOMAS HEARNE
Diary (Feb. 27, 1723)
EVERYTHING THAT'S OLD
HARDCASTLE : In my time, the follies of the town crept
slowly among us, but now they travel faster than a stage-
coach. . . .
MRS HARDCASTLE : Ay, your times were fine times indeed ;
you have been telling us of them for many a long year.
181
Here we live in an old rambling mansion, that looks for
all the world like an inn, but that we never see company
. . . and all our entertainment your old stories of Prince
Eugene and the Duke of Marlborough. I hate such old-
fashioned trumpery !
HARD : And I love it. I love every thing that's old : old
friends, old times, old manners, old books, old wines ;
and, I believe, Dorothy you'll own I have been pretty
fond of an old wife. OLIVER GOLDSMITH
She Stoops to Conquer (1772)
TASTE OVER
English living poets I have avoided mentioning ; we have
none who will not survive their productions. Taste is
over with us ; and another century will sweep our Empire,
our literature, and our name, from all but a place in the
annals of mankind. LORD BYRON
Memorandum (1807)
MODERN SQUEAMISHNESS
I am delighted with your approbation of my " Cenci."
... I confess I cannot approve of the squeamishness
which excludes the exhibition of such subjects from the
scene, a squeamishness the produce, as I firmly believe,
of a lower tone of the public mind, and foreign to the
majestic and confident wisdom of the golden age of our
country. P. B. SHELLEY
Letter to Thomas Medwin (1819)
182
DETERIORATION OF CLUBS
No-one can describe the splendour and excitement of the
early days of Crockford's. A supper of the most exquisite
kind . . . was provided gratis. The members of the Club
included all the celebrities of England . . . and at the gay
and festive board . . . the most brilliant sallies of wit, the
most agreeable conversation, the most interesting anec-
dotes, interspersed with grave political discussions and
acute logical reasoning on every conceivable subject,
proceeded from the soldiers., scholars, statesmen, poets,
and men of pleasure — The tone of the Club was excellent.
A most gentlemanlike feeling prevailed, and none of the
rudeness, familarity, and ill-breeding, which disgrace some
of the minor clubs of the present day, would have been
tolerated for a moment.
CAPTAIN R. H. GRONOW
Reminiscences, 1 810-60 (1861)
THE SHAMELESS i86o's
How astonished and horror-struck would be the great
ladies of the Restoration [of the Bourbons] if they could
rise from their graves and behold their granddaughters
emulating the demi-monde in their dress, language and
manners ; affichant their liaisons in the sight of the sun ;
walking into their lovers' houses unveiled, undisguised,
or riding with them publicly, and having their carriages
called under their own names at the restaurants or small
theatres where they have been tete-^-tete !
The dignified, artful, proud, but perhaps not more
virtuous grandmother would have been unutterably
disgusted, not so much at the immorality as at the bad
taste displayed in such arrangements, which then existed
just as much as now, but were supposed to be unknown.
Ibid.
A COPIOUS AND PLEASANT CONVERSATION
The last time I saw Southey was on an evening at Taylor's
[1839]. . . . We sat on the sofa together; our talk was long
and earnest ; topic ultimately the usual one, steady approach
of democracy, with revolution (probably explosive) and a
finis incomputable to man — steady decay of all morality,
political, social, individual, this once noble England
getting more and more ignoble and untrue in every fibre
of it, till the gold . . . would all be eaten out, and noble
England would have to collapse in shapeless ruin, whether
for ever or not none of us could know. Our perfect con-
sent on these matters gave an animation to the Dialogue,
which I remember as copious and pleasant. Southey's last
word was in answer to some tirade of mine about universal
Mammon-worship, gradual accelerating decay of mutual
humanity, of piety and fidelity to God or man, in all
our relations, performances — the whole illustrated by
examples, I suppose — to which he answered, not with
levity, yet with a cheerful tone in his seriousness, " It
will not, and it cannot, come to good " !
THOMAS CARLYLE
Reminiscences (1867)
184
A WRETCHED AGE
Again, as the train drew out of the station, the old
gentleman pulled out of his pocket his great shining
watch ; and for the fifth, or as it seemed to me, the five
hundredth, time, he said . . . " To the minute, to the very
minute ! It's a marvellous thing, the railway ; a wonderful
age ! "
Now I had long been annoyed by the old gentleman's
smiling face, platitudes, and piles of newspapers ; I had
no love for the Age ; and an impulse came on me to de-
nounce it.
" Allow me to tell you," I said, " that I consider it a
wretched, an ignoble age. Where's the greatnesl of Life,
where's dignity, leisure, stateliness ; where's Art and
Eloquence ? Where are your great scholars, statesmen ?
Let me ask you, Sir," I cried, glaring at him, " where's
your Gibbon, your Burke or Chatham ? "
LOGAN PEARSALL SMITH
Trivia (1918)
MOTOR-BlCYCLES AND PROHIBITIONS
" England," said my friend, " in spite of everything, is
probably a happier country to-day than it has ever been
in history." The sun was shining at the moment, a lark
was singing above a buttercup meadow with a stream
winding through it, and an invisible cuckoo was shouting
over a distant wood ; but even so I wondered if he could
be serious. I do not object to a man's saying that people
are happier now than they were in the Middle Ages . . .
or at any other period until the last quarter of the nine-
teenth century ; but the notion that the world had im-
proved within living memory was so novel that, if the
sun had not been so pleasantly warm, and the wind on our
brows so pleasantly cool, I should have dismissed it with
derision. Who that has once been young and now is middle-
aged can have failed to observe the steady deterioration
of the world in so far as men and women have altered it ?
I do not wish to indict the present age, but it is an age
that has invaded our peaceful age with garish petrol
pumps, with the odious odours of motor-bicycles, with
bungalows, with the dance-music of St. Vitus, with
charabancs, with doubts, with psycho-analysis, with
high taxation, with standardization of everything from
tobacco to opinions, with advertisement and self-advertise-
ment, with paint and powder, with prohibitions more
puzzling than the riddle of the Sphinx, with But
even if I continued the catalogue for a column, it would
be impossible to convey to an inhabitant of the present
age what an inhabitant of a past age thinks of all the
changes that have come over the world since Queen
Victoria celebrated her Jubilee.
ROBERT LYND
Happy England (1930)
186
DESTRUCTION
SILK STOCKINGS
He Richard Corbet was a student ... of Christ-church in
Oxford. He was very facetious, and a good fellowe. One
time he and some of his acquaintance being merry at Fryar
Bacon's study (where was good liquor sold) they were
drinking on the leads of the house, and one of the scholars
was asleepe, and had a paire of good silke stockings on.
Dr Corbet (then M.A., if not B.D.) gott a paire of cizers
and cutt them full of little holes.
JOHN AUBREY
Brief Lives : Richard Corbet (c. 1680)
LIBRARIES
When Oxford was surrendred (24 Junii 1646) the first
thing generall Fairfax did was to sett a good guard of
soldiers to preserve the Bodleian Library. 'Tis said there
was more hurt done by the cavaliers (during their garri-
son) by way of embezilling and cutting-off chaines of
bookes, than there was since. He was a lover of learning,
and had he not taken this speciall care, that noble library
had been utterly destroyed ... for there were ignorant
senators enough who would have been contented to have
had it so.
Ibid.
Brief Lives : Thomas Fairfax (c. 1680)
CUPS
Petronius, late Consull of Rome, when he lay at the
point of death, called for a faire broad-mouthed cup of
Cassidoine, which had cost him before-time three hundred
thousand sesterces, and presently brake it in pieces, in
hatred and despight of Nero, for feare lest the same prince
might have seazed upon it after his desease, and therewith
furnished his own boards.
PLINY THE ELDER
Natural History (c. 77)
Trans. Philemon Holland (1601)
CHURCH ORNAMENTS
Sudbury, Jan. 9, 1643. We broke down 10 mighty great
Angels in Glass, in all 80.
Haverhill, Jan. 6. We brake down about a hundred
superstitious Pictures ; and seven Fryars hugging a Nunn ;
and the picture of God and Christ, and divers others very
superstitious.
Clare, Jan. 6. We brake down 1000 Pictures superstitious ;
I brake down 200 ; 3 of God the Father, and 3 of Christ,
and the Holy Lamb, and 3 of the Holy Ghost like a Dove
188
with Wings ; and the 12 Apostles were carvd in Wood, on
the top of the Roof, which we gave orders to be taken
down ; and the Sun and Moon in the East Window, by
the King's Arms, to be taken down.
Dunstall, Jan. 23. We broke down 60 superstitious Pic-
tures : and broke in pieces the Rails ; and gave orders to
pull down the Steps.
Otley, Feb. 27. A Deputy brake down 50 superstitious
Pictures ; a Cross on the Chancel, 2 Brass Inscriptions ;
and Moses with a Rod, and Aaron with his Mitre, taken
down : and 20 Cherubims to be broke down. etc. etc.
WILLIAM DOWSING
Suffolk Journal (1643-4)
HUSBANDS' MANUSCRIPTS
Her mind was still uneasy about The Scented Garden, and
she took out the manuscript to examine it. ... When she
opened it, she was perfectly bewildered and horrified. . . .
Calming herself, she reflected that the book was written
only for scholars and mainly for Oriental students, and that
her husband Cv never wrote a thing from the impure
point of view." . . . Then she looked up, and there before
her stood her husband, just as he had stood in the flesh.
He pointed to the manuscript, and said " Burn it ! " Then
he disappeared. As she had for years been a believer in
spirits, the apparition did not surprise her, and yet she was
tremendously excited. " Burn it ! " she echoed. " This
valuable manuscript ? At which he laboured for so many
weary hours ? Yet, doubtless, it would be wrong to
preserve it ... What a gentleman, a scholar, and a man of
189
the world, may write when living, he would see very
differently as a poor soul standing naked before its God.
. . . What would he care for the applause of fifteen
hundred men now — for the whole world's praise, and God
offended ? And yet the book is for students only. ..."
At this moment the apparition again stood before her,
and in a sterner and more authoritative voice said, " Burn
it ! " and then again disappeared. In her excitement she
scarcely knew where she was, or what she did. . . .
Then for the third time Sir Richard stood before her.
Again he sternly bade her burn the manuscript, and,
having added threatenings to his command, he again
disappeared. By this time her excitement had passed
away, and a holy joy irradiated her soul. She took up the
manuscript and . . . burnt it, sheet after sheet, until the
whole was consumed. As each leaf was licked up by the
fire, it seemed to her that " a fresh ray of light and peace "
transfused the soul of her beloved husband.
THOMAS WRIGHT
Life of Sir Richard Burton (1906)
HISTORICAL MANUSCRIPTS
It is suspected that our historical antiquary, Speed, owed
many obligations to the learned Hugh Broughton, for he
possessed a vast number of his MSS. which he burnt.
. . . We have had historians who, whenever they met with
information which has not suited their historical system,
or their inveterate prejudices, have employed interpola-
tions, castrations, and forgeries, and in some cases have
annihilated the entire document. . . . Among these
190
suppressors and dilapidators pre-eminently stands the
crafty Italian Polydore Vergil . . . who is said to have
collected and burnt a greater number of historical MSS.
than would have loaded a waggon, to prevent the detection
of the numerous fabrications in his History of England,
which was composed to gratify Mary and the Catholic
cause.
The Harleian MS, 7379, is a collection of state-letters.
This MS has four leaves entirely torn out, and is accom-
panied by this extraordinary memorandum, signed by
the principal librarian.
" Upon examination of this book, Nov. 12, 1764, these
four last leaves were torn out. C. Morton.
Mem. Nov. 12, sent down to Mrs Macaulay."
. . . This memorandum must involve our female
historian in the obloquy of this dilapidation. Such dis-
honest practices of party feeling, indeed, are not peculiar
to any party.
ISAAC DISRAELI
Curiosities of Literature (1792-1817)
HUSBANDS' WORK
Dr Edward Davanant told me that this learned man had
a shrew to his wife, who was irreconcileably angrie with
him for sitting-up late at night so, compileing his Diction-
arie. . . . When he had half-donne it, she had the oppor-
tunity to gett into his studie, tooke all his paines out in
her lap, and threw it into the fire, and burnt it.
JOHN AUBREY
Brief Lives : Thomas Cooper (c. 1680)
191
SATANIC BOOKS
I expressed a wish to know how she came possessed of
this book [Volney's Ruins of Empires]. She said that a
young man., a great Constitutionalist, had given it her
. . . and had pressed her much to read it, for that it was one
of the best books in the world. I replied, that the author
was an emissary of Satan . . . that it was written with the
sole aim of bringing all religion into contempt, and that it
inculcated the doctrine that there was no future state, nor
reward for the righteous, nor punishment for the wicked.
She made no reply, but, going into another room, re-
turned with her apron full of dry sticks . . . which she
piled upon the fire, and produced a bright blaze. She then
took the book from my hand and placed it upon the flaming
pile ; then, sitting down, took her rosary out of her pocket,
and told her beads till the volume was consumed. This was
an auto-da-fe in the best sense of the word.
GEORGE BORROW
The Bible in Spain (1843)
CONJURING BOOKS
My old cosen, parson Whitney, told me that in the visita-
tion of Oxon in Edward VTs time, they burned mathe-
matical bookes for conjuring bookes, and if the Greeke
professor had not accidentally come along, the Greeke
testament had been thrown into the fire for a conjuring
booke too.
JOHN AUBREY
Brief Lives : James Whitney (c. 1680)
192
LOOSE SONNETS
Strephon, of noble blood and mind,
(For ever shine his name)
As death approch'd, his soul refin'd,
And gave his looser sonnets to the flame.
" Burn, burn," he cried, with sacred rage,
" Hell is the due of ev'ry page :
Hell be its fate "—(But O indulgent Heaven !
So vile the Muse, and yet the man forgiv'n !)
" Burn on, my song ; for not the silver Thames,
Nor Tiber with its yellow streams,
In endless currents rolling to the main,
Can e'er dilute the poison or wash out the stain."
ISAAC WATTS
Repentance of the Earl of Rochester
DETACHMENT
THINKING OF THE FIXED STARS
For my own part, I begin to see the Earth so fearfully
little, that I believe from henceforth, I shall never be
concern'd at all for any thing : That we so eagerly desire
to make our selves great, that we are always designing,
always troubling and harassing our selves, is certainly
because we are ignorant what these Vortex's are ; but
GP 193
now I hope my new lights will in part justifie my laziness,
and when any one reproaches me with my carelessness, I
will answer. Ah, did you but know what thefix'd Stars are !
B. DE FONTENELLE
A Plurality of Worlds
Trans. John Glanvill (1688)
DOING GEOMETRY
Syracusa being taken, nothinge greved Marcellus more
then the losse of Archimedes, who beinge in his studie
when the citie was taken, busily seeking out by him selfe
the demonstracion of some Geometricall proposition
which he hadde drawen in figure, and so earnestly occu-
pied therein, as he neither sawe nor hearde any noyse of
enemies that ranne uppe and downe the citie, and much
lesse knewe it was taken : He wondered when he sawe a
souldier by him, that bad him go with him to Marcellus.
Notwithstandynge, he spoke to the souldier, and bad him
tary untill he had done his conclusion, and brought it to
demonstracion : but the souldier being angry with his
aunswer, drew out his sword and killed him. PLUTARCH
Lives (c. 100)
Trans. Sir Thomas North (1572)
AN ISOLATED BEING
I am an isolated Being on the Earth, without a Tie to
attach me to life, except a few School-fellows and a score
of females. LORD BYRON
Letter to Ensign Long (1807)
194
UNMOVED AUTHORS
For my part, I never could understand those quarrels of
authors with critics, and with one another. " For God's
sake, gentlemen, what do they mean ? "
Ibid.
Letter to Thomas Moore (1817)
The man must be enviably happy whom reviews can
make miserable. I have neither curiosity, interest, pain,
nor pleasure, in anything, good or evil, they can say of me.
I feel only a slight disgust, and a sort of wonder that
they presume to write my name.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY
Letter to Leigh Hunt (1822)
Sir,
Should you cast your eye on the signature of this letter
before you read the contents, you might imagine that they
related to a slanderous paper which appeared in your
Review some time since. I never notice anonymous
attacks. The wretch who wrote it has doubtless the
additional reward of a consciousness of his motives,
besides the thirty guineas a sheet or whatever it is that
you pay him. Of course you cannot be answerable for all
the writings that you edit, and I certainly bear you no ill-
will for having edited the abuse to which I allude — indeed,
I was too much amused by being compared to Pharoah,
not readily to forgive editor, printer, publisher, stitcher,
or any one, except the despicable writer, connected with
195
something so exquisitely entertaining. Seriously speak-
ing, I am not in the habit of permitting myself to be
disturbed by what is said or written of me. . . . But I
feel in respect to the writer in question, that " I am there
sitting, where he durst not soar."
P. B. SHELLEY
Letter to the Editor of the Quarterly Review (1818)
THE INDIFFERENT INDIAN
Then come some of the Iroquois going to eat a Prisoner
for their Breakfast, who seems as little concern'd as his
Devourers.
BERNARD DE FONTENELLE
A Plurality of Worlds
Trans. John Glanvill (1688)
THE PROCESSION
Dante went one day to a great public procession ; he
entered the shop of a bookseller to be a spectator of the
passing show. He found a book which greatly interested
him ; he devoured it in silence, and plunged into an abyss
of thought. On his return, he declared that he had neither
seen, nor heard, the slightest occurrence of the public
exhibition which had passed before him.
ISAAC DISRAELI
Curiosities of Literature (1792-1823)
196
PLEASURES OF DEPATRIATION
But whosoever he be whom fortune hath deprived of his
owne native countrey, certes, she hath graunted and
allowed him to make choice of that which may please and
content him . . . Make choice of the best and most pleas-
ant citie, time will cause it to be thy native countrey, and
such a native countrey as shall not distract and trouble
thee with any businesse nor impose upon thee these and
suchlike exactions : make paiment and contribute to this
levie of money : goe in embassage to Rome : receive such
a captaine or ruler into thine house, or take such a charge
upon thee at thine owne expenses. Now he that calleth
these things to remembrance, if he have any wit in his
head, and be not over-blind every way in his owne opin-
ion and conceit, will wish and chose, if he be banished out
of his owne countrey, to inhabite the verie Isle Gyaros, or
the rough and barraine Hand Cinarus, where trees or
plants do hardly grow, without complaining with griefc
of hart, without lamenting and breaking out into these
plaints and womanly moanes, reported by the Poet Simon-
ides in these words.
The roaring noise of purple sea
resounding all about,
Doth fright me much, and so inclose
that I can not get out.
PLUTARCH
Morals : Of Banishment (c. 100)
Trans. Philemon Holland (1603)
197
ECCENTRICITY
THE PECULIAR CROCODILE
Most things move th'under-jaw, the Crocodile not ;
Most things sleep lying, th' Elephant leans or stands.
GEORGE HERBERT
Providence (1633)
THE RELIGIOUS SATYR
It is likely there are men also like Satyres inhabiting in
some desert places, for St Jerom in the life of Paul the
Eremite, reporteth there appeared to S. Anthony an Hippo-
centaure, such as the Poets describe, and presently he saw
in a rocky valley adjoining, a little man having crooked
nostrils, horns growing out of his forehead, and the neath-
er part of his body had Goats feet : the holy man not dis-
mayed, taking the shield of Faith, and the breastplate of
Righteousness, like a good Souldier of Christ, pressed
towards him, which brought him some fruits of palms as
pledges of his peace, upon which he fed in the journey ;
which St Antony perceiving, he asked him who he was,
198
and received this answer, I am a mortall creature, one
of the inhabitants of this Desert, whom the Gentiles
(deceived with error) do worship as Fauni, Satyres, and
Incubi : I am come in ambassage from our flock, intreat-
ing that thou wouldst pray for us unto the common GOD,
who came to save the world ; the which words were no
sooner ended, but he ran away as fast as any fowl could
flic.
EDWARD TOPSELL
History of Four-Footed Beasts and Serpents (1607)
THE GARDEN PARTY
" Yes, I suppose it is rather a dull Garden Party," I
agreed, though my local pride was a little hurt by the
disdain of that visiting young woman for our rural society.
" Still we have some interesting neighbours, when you
get to know them. Now that fat lady over there in purple
— do you see her ? Mrs. Turnbull — she believes in Hell,
believes in Eternal Torment. And that old gentleman with
whiskers and white spats, Colonel Bosco, is convinced
that England is tottering on the very brink of the Abyss.
And the pie-faced lady he is talking to, Miss Stuart-Jones,
was, she says, Mary Queen of Scots in a previous exist-
ence. And our Curate — we're proud of our Curate, he's
a great cricketer, and a kind of saint as well. They say he
goes out in Winter at three o'clock in the morning, and
stands up to his neck in a pond, to cool and overcome
his appetites."
LOGAN PEARSALL SMITH
More Trivia (1922)
199
EXERCISE
DAY OUT
" Oh., the wild joys of living ! the leaping from rock up
to rock,
The strong rending of boughs from the fir-tree., the cool
silver shock
Of the plunge in a pool's living water, the hunt of the bear.
And the sultriness showing the lion is crouched in his lair.
And the meal, the rich dates yellowed over with gold dust
divine,
And the locust-flesh steeped in the pitcher, the full
draught of wine,
And the sleep in the dried river-channel where bulrushes tell
That the water was wont to go warbling so softly and well •
How good is man's life, the mere living ! who fit to employ
All the heart and the soul and the senses for ever in joy !
ROBERT BROWNING
Saul (1842)
LEAPING
Leaping is an exercise very commendable, and healthfull
for the body, especially if you use it in the morning, as
200
we read Alexander and Epaminondas did. Upon a full
stomacke or to bedward, it is very dangerous, and in no
wise to be exercised.
HENRY PEACHAM
The Compleat Gentleman (1622)
RUNNING
In rennynge the exercise is good also, . . .
Lightly to come and go, rennynge is sure.
Rennynge is also right good at the chase,
And for to lepe a dyke is also good ;
ANON
Of Knyghthode and Batayle (early I5th c.)
FILIAL
LOYALTY
Cicero the younger, who resembled his father in nothing
but in name, . . chanced one day to have many strangers
at his board, and amongst others saw Cocstius sitting at the
lower end. . . Cicero inquired of one of his men what he
was. . . It is, said he, the same Coestius, of whom some
201
have told you, that in respect of his owne, maketh no
account of your father's eloquence. Cicero being suddainly
mooved, commaunded the said poore Coestius to be pre-
sently taken from the table, and well whipt in his pre-
sence : Lo-heere an uncivill and barbarous host.
MICHEL DE MONTAIGNE
Essays : Of Bookes (1580)
Trans. John Florio (1603)
COMMON SENSE
The Holy Mawle, which they fancy hung behind the
church door, which when the father was seaventie, the
sonne might fetch to knock his father in the head, as effete
and of no more use.
JOHN AUBREY
Remains of Gentilism and Judaism (1687)
A POETICAL SON TO A MUSICAL FATHER
I wish the Pierian springs would turn their water-ways
now through my breast, ... so that, forgetting her feeble
strains, my Muse may rise on bold wings to do reverent
duty to my father. However her song may be welcomed,
it is for you, best of fathers, that she is preparing this
inadequate work. I do not know what more fitting gifts
from me can answer yours to me, though the greatest
possible gifts can not really answer yours ; far less can
the meagre thanks returned through empty words, be
202
enough for them. Nevertheless, this page sets forth my
assets, and what I have of wealth I have counted out on
this paper ; it is nothing beyond what golden Clio has
given me, and what slumbers have begotten in me in
some secluded cave, and in the shadowed, sacred laurel
groves of Parnassus
Do not, I pray you, continue to condemn the holy
Muses, nor think them vain and poor, for through their
gifts you yourself cunningly compose a thousand strains
to apt melodies. . . . Now why is it strange that it has
fallen to you to beget me, a poet, that we, so closely joined
by dear blood-ties, should pursue allied arts and kindred
studies ? Phoebus, wishing to share himself between us,
gave these gifts to me, those to my father, so we, father
and son, possess the divided god.
But though you pretend to hate the gentle Muses, I
think you do not hate them, for, father, you do not com-
mand me to go where the broad road opens, where the
ground is more favourable for profit, and where the golden
hope of amassed wealth steadily shines. You do not drag
me to the laws, the ill-kept laws of the nation, nor do you
condemn my ears to foolish clamours. But, desiring to
enrich my mind further, you withdrew me far from the
noise of the city, into deep retirement, and let me walk
in the pleasant leisure of the Aeonian banks, a happy
companion at Phoebus' side
What greater thing could have been given, by a father,
even by Jupiter himself, though he had given all but the
heavens ? . . . . But for you, dear father, since I cannot
make the return you deserve, ... let it be enough that
I have commemorated your gifts, and told them with a
thankful heart.
And you, O youthful songs of mine, trifles of my leisure,
203
if only you may venture to hope for immortality, . . .
perhaps you will guard these praises, and my father's
name thus sung, as an example to far-off ages.
JOHN MILTON
Ad Pair em (1634?)
(Trans, from Latin)
FLATTERING
THE HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT
If I should thus farre presume upon the meek demeanour
of your civil and gentle greatnesse, Lords and Commons,
as what your publisht Order hath directly said, that to
gainsay, I might defend myselfe with ease, if any should
accuse me of being new or insolent, did they but know
how much better I find ye esteem it to imitate the old and
elegant humanity of Greece, than the barbarick pride of a
Hunnish and Norwegian statelines. ... I know not what
should withhold me from presenting ye with a fit instance
wherein to shew both that love of truth which ye eminently
professe, and that uprightnesse of your judgement which is
not wont to be partiall to yourselves, by judging over
again that Order which ye have ordain'd to regulate
Printing.
JOHN MILTON
Areopagitica (1644)
204
VOLTAIRE
One can never. Sir, be sorry to have been in the wrong
when one's errors are pointed out to one in so obliging
and masterly a manner. Whatever opinion I may have of
Shakespeare, I should think him to blame if he could have
seen the letter you have done me the honour to write to
me, and yet not conform to the rules you have their laid
down. When he lived, there had not been a Voltaire, both
to give laws to the stage, and to show on what good sense
those laws were founded.
HORACE WALPOLE
Letter to Voltaire (1768)
MRS . MONTAGUE
When Mrs. Montague shewed him some China plates
which had once belonged to Queen Elizabeth, he told her,
" that they had no reason to be ashamed of their present
possessor, who was so little inferior to the first."
HESTHER PIOZZI
Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson (1786)
QUEEN ELIZABETH
See where she sits upon the grassie greene,
(O seemely sight !)
Yclad in Scarlot, like a mayden Queene,
And Ermines white :
205
Upon her head a Cremosin coronet
With Damaske roses and DafFadillies set :
Bay leaves betweene,
And Primroses greene.
Embellish the sweete Violet.
Tell me, have ye scene her angelick face
Like Phoebe fayre ?
Her heavenly haveour, her princely grace.
Can you well compare ?
The Redde rose medled with the White yfere,
In either cheeke depeincten lively chere :
Her modest eye,
Her Majestic,
Where have you seene the like but there ? . . .
I see Calliope speede her to the place,
where my Goddesse shines ;
And after her the other Muses trace
with their Violines.
Bene they not Bay braunches which they doe
beare,
All for Elisa in her hand to weare ?
So sweetely they play,
And sing all the way,
That it a heaven is to heare. . . .
Now ryse up, Eliza, decked as thou art
in royall aray ;
And now ye daintie Damsells may depart
Eche one her way.
206
I feare, I have troubled your troupes to longe :
Let dame Elisa thanke you for her song :
And if you come hether
When Damsines I gether,
I will part them all you among.
EDMUND SPENSER
The Shepheards Calender (1579)
ADONIS
Even as the sun with purple colour'd face
Had tane his last leave of the weeping morn,
Rose cheekt Adonis hied him to the chase ;
Hunting he lov'd, but love he laught to scorne.
Sick-thoughted Venus makes amain unto him,
And like a bold fac't suter gins to woe him.
Thrice fairer then my selfe (thus she began)
The fields chiefe flower, sweet above compare,
Staine to all Nymphes, more lovely than a man,
More white and red, than doves or roses are ;
Nature that made thee, with her selfe at strife,
Saith, that the world hath ending with thy life.
Vouchsafe thou wonder to alight thy steed,
And reigne his proud head to the saddle-bowe :
If thou wilt deigne this favour, for thy meed
A thousand hony-secrets shalt thou know :
Here come and sit, where never serpent hisses,
And beeing set, He smother thee with kisses.
W. SHAKESPEARE
Venus and Adonis (1593. Edition 1607)
207
NAUSICAA
Here was he
Put to his wisedome, if her virgin knee,
He should be bold, but kneeling, to embrace ;
Or keepe aloofe, and trie with words of grace,
In humblest suppliance, if he might obtaine
Some cover for his nakedness and gaine
Her grace to shew and guide him to the Towne.
The last he best thought, to be worth his owne,
In weighing both well : to keepe still aloofe,
And give with soft words his desires their
proofe. . . .
" Let me beseech (O Queene) this truth of thee ;
Are you of mortal, or the deified race ?
If of the Gods, that th'ample heavens embrace ;
I can resemble you to none above,
So neare as to the chast-borne birth of Jove,
The beamie Cynthia. Her you full present,
In grace of every God-like lineament :
Her goodly magnitude ; and all the addresse
You promise of her very perfectnesse.
If sprung of humanes, that inhabite earth ;
Thrice blest are both the authors of your birth ;
Thrice blest your brothers, that in your deserts,
Must, even to rapture, beare delighted hearts ;
To see, so like the first trim of a tree.
Your forme adorn a dance. But most blest he
Of all that breathe, that hath the gift t'engage
Your bright necke in the yoke of mariage ;
And decke his house with your commanding
merit.
208
I have not seene a man of so much spirit.
Nor man, nor woman, I did ever see,
At all parts equall to the parts in thee.
T' enjoy your sight, doth Admiration seise
My eies, and apprehensive faculties.
Lately in Delos . . .
... I beheld
The burthern of a Palme, whose issue sweld
About Apollos Phane, and that put on
A grace like thee ; for Earth had never none
Of all her Sylvane issue so adorn'd :
Into amaze my very soule was turnd
To give it observation ; as now thee
To view (O Virgin) a stupiditie
Past admiration strikes me ; joynd with feare
To do a suppliants due, and prease so neare
As to embrace thy knees. . . .
God give you, in requitall, all th'amends
Your heart can wish
She answerd : " Stranger ! I discerne in thee,
Nor Sloth) nor Folly raignes ; . . .
Thou shalt not want."
HOMER
Odyssey
Trans. George Chapman (1614)
MRS. KATHERINE PHILLIPS
We allow'd You Beauty, and we did submit
To all the Tyrannies of it ;
Ah ! Cruel Sex, will you depose us too in Wit ?
Orinda does in that too raign,
209
Does Man behind her in Proud Triumph draw,
And Cancel great Apollo's Salick Law.
We our old Title plead in vain,
Man may be Head, but Woman's now the Brain.
ABRAHAM COWLEY
On Orinda's Poems (1668)
EVERYBODY
His Art is nothing but delightfull cozenage, whose rules
are smoothing and garded with perjurie ; whose scope is
to make men fooles in teaching them to over-value them-
selves, and to tickle his friends to death. This man is a Por-
ter of all good tales, and mends them in the carriage ; . . .
When he walks with his friend, hee sweares to him, that
no man els is looked at; no man talked of; and that whom-
soever he vouchsafes to looke on and nod to, is graced
enough. . . . Sometimes even in absence hee extolleth
his patron, where hee may presume of safe conveiance to
his eares. ... In short, he is ... the eare-wig of the
mightie.
JOSEPH HALL
Characters of Vertues and Vices (1608)
210
FEMALE PLEASURES
HUNTIN'
Thro' the green Oake-wood on a lucent Morn
Turn'd the sweet mazes of a silver Horn :
A Stag rac'd past, and hallowing hard behind,
Dian's young Nymphs ran fleeting down the Wind.
A light-foot Host, green-kirtl'd all they came,
And leapt, and rollickt, as some mountain Streame
Sings cold and ruffling thro' the Forrest Glades ;
So ran, so sang, so hoyted the Moone's Maids.
Light as young Lev'retts skip their buskin'd feet,
Spurning th'enamell'd Sward as they did fleet.
The Wind that buss'd their cheekes was all the Kiss
Was suffer'd by the Girles of Artemis,
Whose traffique was in Woods, whom the wing'd Boy
Leauguer'd in vain, whom Man would ne're injoy,
Whose Bed greene Moss beneath the forrest Tree,
Whose jolly Pleasure all in Liberty,
To sport with fellow Maids in maiden cheere,
To swim the Brook, and hollo after Deer.
Thus, the winds wantoning their flying Curies,
So rac'd, so chas'd, those most Delightfull Girles.
ANON
The Chase (c. 1675)
211
With Horns and with Hounds I waken the Day,
And hye to my Woodland- Walks away ;
I tuck up my Robe, and am buskin'd soon,
And tie to my Forehead a wexing Moon ;
I course the fleet Stag, unkennel the Fox,
And chase the wild Goats o'er Summits of Rocks,
With shouting and hooting we pierce thro' the Sky ;
And Eccho turns Hunter, and doubles the Cry.
JOHN DRYDEN, The Secular Masque (1700)
I have very frequently the opportunity of seeing a Rural
Andromache, who came up to town last Winter, and is one
of the greatest Fox-hunters in the Country. She talks of
Hounds and Horses, and makes nothing of leaping over a
Six-bar Gate. If a man tells her a waggish story, she gives
him a Push with her Hand in jest, and calls him an im-
pudent Dog. JOSEPH ADDISON, Spectator (1711)
KNITTING
II faut que les femmes tricotent. NAPOLEON BUONAPARTE
CHICKEN-WINGS
Lord Byron ... did not like to see women eat, and . . .
he had another reason for not liking to dine with them ;
which was, that they always had the wings of the chicken.
LEIGH HUNT
Lord Byron and Some of his Contemporaries (1828)
212
UNWHOLESOME FARE
A woman should never be seen eating or drinking, unless
it be lobster salad and champagne, the only truly feminine
viands.
LORD BYRON
Letter to Lady Melbourne (1812)
LOOKING OUT OF WINDOWS
Bow Street, where the thieves are examined, is within a
few yards of us. Mary had not been here four and twenty
hours before she saw a thief. She sits at the window work-
ing ; and casually throwing out her eyes, she sees a con-
course of people coming this way, with a constable to
conduct the solemnity. These little incidents agreeably
diversify a female life.
CHARLES LAMB
Letter to Miss Wordsworth (1817)
To see passengers goe by in some great Rode way, or
boates in a river, to oversee a Faire, a Market place, or
out of a pleasant window into some thorough-fare streete,
to behold a continuall concourse, a promiscuous rout,
comming and going, or a multitude of spectators at a
Theater, a Maske, or some such like shew.
ROBERT BURTON
The Anatomy of Melancholy (1621. Edition 1632)
213
LOOKING INTO WINDOWS
Looking in at the shop windows of Broadway the whole
forenoon, flatting the flesh of my nose on the thick plate
glass.
WALT WHITMAN
Song of Myself (1855)
GAMBLING
It is generally remarked, that when the odious and corrupt-
ing propensity of gambling takes possession of the female
mind, its ravages are still more unsparing than upon the
characters and feelings of men.
ANON
Edinburgh Review (Jan. 1825)
MEETING GENTLEMEN
The wives and daughters of the Brahmans, ... go bare-
footed ; but wear a great many ornaments, which generally
consist of three or four bracelets of brass, a necklace of gold
or precious stones, and ear-rings of gold or of diamonds.
They bind their hair together in a roll on the top of the
head, and paint on the forehead some sacred mark. They
bear in their hand an umbrella of palm-leaves, which
they always hold before their face when they meet any
of the male sex. They, however, turn speedily round, in
214
general, when a man has passed them, and seem to cast
a wistful look towards him. This is a plain proof that in
every country of the globe the daughters of Eve are
subject to the like weaknesses.
FRA PAOLINO DA SAN BARTOLOMEO
Voyage to the East Indies (1796)
(Trans. W. Johnson)
BENEVOLENT AFFECTIONS
Nothing, certainly, is so ornamental and delightful in
women as the benevolent affections ; but time cannot be
filled up, and life employed, with high and impassioned
virtues. ... A scene of distress and anguish is an occasion
where the finest qualities of the female mind may be
displayed ; but it is a monstrous exaggeration to tell
women that they are born only for scenes of distress and
anguish. . . . We know women are to be compassionate ;
but they cannot be compassionate from eight o'clock in
the morning till twelve at night : — and what are they to
do in the interval ?
SYDNEY SMITH
Female Education (1809)
LANGUISHING ARDOUR
I know not how to call it, but there is a meltingness of
Disposition, and affectionateness of Devotion, an easie
Sensibility, an industrious Alacrity, a languishing Ardour
215
in Piety, peculiar to the Sex, which naturally renders them
Subjects more pliable, to the Divine Grace, than Men
commonly are ; So that Solomon, had reason to bestow
the Epithete Gracious, particularly on them.
THOMAS KEN
A Sermon preached at the funeral of the . . . Lady
Margaret Mainard. . . . 30th June, 1682
TOWN PLEASURES WITH GENTLEMEN
HIPPOLITA : To confine a woman just in her rambling
Age ! take away her liberty at the very time she should
use it ! O barbarous Aunt ! O unnatural Father ; to shut
up a poor girl at fourteen, and hinder her budding ; all
things are ripen'd by the Sun : to shut up a poor girl
at fourteen !
PRUE : 'Tis true, Miss, two poor young creatures as we
are !
HIPPOLITA : Not suffer'd to see a play in a twelve month !
PRUE : Nor to go to Ponchinello nor Paradise !
HIP. : Nor to take a Ramble to the Park nor Mulbery-
garden !
PRUE : Nor to Tatnam-Court nor Islington !
HIP. : Nor to eat a sillybub in new Spring-garden with a
Cousin !
PRUE : Nor to drink a Pint of Wine with a Friend at the
Prince in the Sun !
HIP. : Nor to hear a Fiddle in good Company !
PRUE : Nor to hear the Organs and Tongs at the Gun in
Moorfields \
216
HIP. : Nay, not suffer'd to go to Church, because the men
are sometimes there ! Little did I think I should ever have
long'd to go to Church !
PRUE : Or I either, but between two maids !
HIP. : Nor see a man !
PRUE : Nor come near a man !
HIP. : Nor hear of a man !
PRUE : No, Miss, but to be deny'd a man, and to have
no use at all of a man !
WILLIAM WYCHERLEY
The Gentleman Dancing- Master (1672)
BEING LOVED BY ANGELS
Let the Women have the power of their heads, because of the
Angels. The reason of the words, because of the Angels, is
this ; The Greek Church held an Opinion that the Angels
fell in love with Women.
JOHN SELDEN
Table Talk (1634-54 : pub. 1689)
SPENDING MONEY
A woman who gets the command of money for the first
time upon her marriage, has such a gust in spending it,
that she throws it away with great profusion.
JAMES BOSWELL
Life of Johnson (1791)
217
CEREMONY
Ceremony keeps up all things ; 'Tis like a Penny-Glass
to a rich Spirit, or some Excellent Water, without it the
water were spilt, the Spirit lost.
Of all people Ladies have no reason to cry down
Ceremonies, for they take themselves slighted without it.
And were they not used with Ceremony, with Comple-
ments and Addresses, with Legs, and Kissing of Hands,
they were the pittyfullest Creatures in the World.
JOHN SELDEN
Table Talk (1634-54 : pub. 1689)
WASHING-DAY
The servants then (commanded) soone obaid ;
Fetcht Coach, and Mules Joynd in it. Then the Maid
Brought from the chamber her rich weeds, and laid
All up in Coach : in which, her mother plac't
A maund of victles, varied well in taste,
And other junkets. Wine she likewise filld
Within a goat-skin bottle, and distilld
Sweete and moist oile into a golden Cruse,
Both for her daughters, and her handmaids use ;
To soften their bright bodies, when they rose
Cleansd from their cold baths. Up to Coach then goes
Th' observed Maid; takes both the scourge and raines ;
And to her side, her handmaid strait attaines,
Nor these alone, but other virgins, grac't
The Nuptiall Chariot. The whole Bevie plac't ;
Nausicaa scourg'd to make the Coach Mules runne
218
That neigh'd and pac'd their usuall speed : and soone
Both maids and weeds brought to the river side ;
Where Baths for all the yeare, their use supplide.
Whose waters were so pure, they would not staine ;
But still ran faire forth ; and did more remaine.
Apt to purge staines, for that purg'd staine within,
Which, by the waters pure store, was not seen.
These (here arriv'd) the Mules uncoach'd, and drave
Up to the gulphie river's shore, that gave
Sweete grasse to them. The maids from Coach then
tooke
Thier cloaths, and steept them in the sable brooke.
Then put them into springs, and trod them cleane,
With cleanly feet ; adventring wagers then,
Who should have soonest, and most cleanly done.
When having throughly cleansd, they spred them on
The flood's shore, all in order. And then, where
The waves the pibbles wash'd, and ground was cleare,
They bath'd themselves ; and all with glittring oile,
Smooth'd their white skins : refreshing then their toile
With pleasant dinner, by the rivers side.
Yet still watcht when the Sunne their cloaths had
dride.
Till which time (having din'd) Nausicae
With other virgins, did at stool-ball play ;
Their shoulder-reaching head-tires laying by.
Nausicae (with wrists of Ivory)
The liking stroke strooke ; singing first a song ;
(As custome orderd) and amidst the throng,
Made such a shew ; and so past all was scene ;
As when the Chast-borne, Arrow-loving Queene,
Along the mountaines gliding ; either over
Spartan Taygetus, whose tops farre discover ;
219
Or Eurymanthus ; in the wilde Bores chace ;
Or swift-hov'd Hart ; and with her, Joves faire race
(The field Nymphs) sporting. Amongst whom, to see
How farre Diana had prioritie
(though all were faire) for fairnesse ; yet of all,
(As both by head and forhead being more tall)
Latona triumpht since the dullest sight.
Might easly judge, whom her pains brought to light ;
Nausicaa so (whom never husband tam'd)
Above them all, in all the beauties flam'd.
HOMER
Odyssey. Book VI
Trans. George Chapman (1614)
AT BATH
Hard by the Pump-room, is a coffee-house for the ladies ;
but my aunt says, young girls are not admitted, insomuch
as the conversation turns upon politics, scandal, phil-
osophy, and other subjects above our capacity ; but we
are allowed to accompany them to the booksellers' shops,
which are charming places of resort; where we read novels,
plays, pamphlets, and news-papers . . . and in these offices
of intelligence (as my brother calls them) all the reports
of the day, and all the private transactions of the Bath, are
first entered and discussed. From the booksellers' shop,
we make a tour through the milleners and toymen ; and
commonly stop at Mr. Gill's, the pastry-cook, to take a
jelly, a tart, or a small bason of vermicelli.
TOBIAS SMOLLETT
Humphrey Clinker (1771)
220
ACCOMPLISHMENTS
I danced the polka and Cellarius,
Spun glass, stuffed birds, and modelled flowers in wax.
ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING
Aurora Leigh (1856)
AN AGREEABLE MAN IN A HACKNEY-COACH
MRS FORESIGHT : I own it, I think there's no Happiness
like conversing with an agreeable Man ; I don't quarrel
at that, nor I don't think but your Conversation was very
innocent ; but the Place is publick, and to be seen with
a Man in a Hackney-Coach is scandalous.
WILLIAM CONGREVE
Love for Love (1695)
A HUSBAND
Miss : What, and must not I have e'er a Husband then ?
What, must I go to Bed to Nurse again, and be a Child as
long as she's an old Woman ? Indeed, but I won't. For
now my mind is set upon a Man, I will have a Man some
way or other. Oh ! methinks I'm sick when I think of a
Man; and if I can't have one, I wou'd go to sleep all my
Life : For when I'm awake it makes me wish and long,
and I don't know for what — And I'd rather be always
asleep, than sick with thinking.
221
FORESIGHT : O fearful ! I think the Girl's influenc'd too, —
Hussy, you shall have a Rod.
Miss : A fiddle of a Rod, I'll have a Husband ! and if
you won't get me one, I'll get one for myself; I'll marry
our Robin the Butler, he says he loves me, and he's a
handsome Man, and shall be my Husband : I warrant he'll
be my Husband, and thank me too, for he told me so.
Ibid.
CHILD-BEARING AND SHUTTLECOCKS
We things cal'd women, only made for shew
And pleasure, created to beare children,
And play at shuttle-cocke.
JOHN MARSTON
The Tragedie of Sophonisba (1606)
JEWELS
This evening my wife did with great pleasure shew me her
stock of jewels, encreased by the ring she hath made lately
as my Valentine's gift this year, a Turky stone set with
diamonds : and, with this and what she had, she reckons
that she hath above £150 worth of jewels, of one kind or
other ; and I am glad of it, for it is fit the wretch should
have something to content herself with.
SAMUEL PEPYS
Diary (Feb. 24, 1668)
222
DANCING, CHESS, DICE, AND THE PROMENADE
Still unaccomplish'd may the Maid be thought.
Who gracefully to Dance was never taught : . . .
To raffle prettily, or slur a Dye,
Implies both Cunning & Dexterity.
Nor is't amiss at Chess to be expert.
For Games, most thoughtful, sometimes most divert.
Learn ev'ry Game, you'll find it prove of use ;
Parties begun at Play, may Love produce.
But, easier 'tis to learn how Bets to lay,
Than how to keep your Temper while you play. . . .
Then, base Desire of Gain, then, Rage appears,
Quarrells and Brawls arise, and anxious Fears ;
Then, Clamours and Revilings reach the Sky,
While losing Gamesters all the Gods defie.
Then horrid Oaths are utter'd ev'ry Cast ;
They grieve, and curse, and storm, may weep at last.
Good Jove avert such shameful Faults as these,
Frome ev'ry Nymph whose Heart's inclined to please. . . .
Tho' Martial Fields ill sute your tender Frames,
Nor may you swim in Tiber's rapid streams ;
Yet when Sol's burning Wheels from Leo drive,
And at the glowing Virgin's Sign arrive,
'Tis both allow'd, and fit, you should repair
To pleasant Walks, and breathe refreshing Air.
To Pompey's Gardens, or the shady Groves
Which Caesar honours, and which Phoebus loves
To Isis Fane, to Theatres resort ;
And in the Circus see the noble Sport.
In ev'ry publick Place, by turns, be shown ;
In vain you're Fair, while you remain unknown.
OVID, Art of Love (c. 2 B.C.)
Trans. William Congreve (1709)
223
BEING CARRIED AWAY
Now they [the Barbarians] say that in their judgment,
though it is an act of wrong to carry away women by force,
it is a folly to set one's heart on taking vengeance for their
rape, and the wise course is to pay no regard when they
have been carried away ; for it is evident that they would
never be carried away if they were not themselves willing
to go.
HERODOTUS
History (5th cent. B.C.)
Trans. G. C. Macaulay
FURNISHINGS, CONFECTIONS, PLANTS,
MERRY MEETINGS
Now for women instead of laborious studies, they have
curious needleworkes, cut-workes, spinning, bone-lace,
and many pretty devices of their own making, to adorn
their houses, Cushions, Carpets, Chaires, Stooles . . . con-
fections, conserves, distillations, &c. which they shew to
strangers. . . . This they have to busie themselves about,
houshold offices, &c. neate gardens, full of exotick, versi-
colour, diversely varied, sweet smelling flowers, and plants
in all kinds, which they are most ambitious to get, curious
to preserve and keep, proud to possesse, and much many
times bragge of. Their merry meetings and frequent visita-
tions, mutuall invitations in good townes, I voluntarily
omit, which are so much in use, gossipping among the
meaner sort, &c.
ROBERT BURTON
The Anatomy of Melancholy (1621. Edition 1632)
224
FRATERNAL
BORN TO FRIENDS
I was much pleased with the tale that you told me of being
tutor to your sisters. I, who have no sisters or brothers,
look with some degree of innocent envy on those who
may be said to be born to friends.
JAMES BOSWELL
Life of Johnson
(1790
FOND BROTHER
The affection which I bear to you and Hannah is the source
of the greatest enjoyment that I have in the world. It
is my strongest feeling. It is that which will determine
the whole course of my life. It has made me a better man
and a far happier man than anything else could have made
me. The very regret which I feel for your absence is a
more delightful sensation than the pleasure which I take
HP 225
in other people's society. . . . The pleasures of dissi-
pation end in disgust, those in vanity pall with repetition.
Ambition itself passes away. But my love for my sweet
sisters . . . becomes stronger and stronger from day to day,
and from hour to hour. Having been the most restless and
aspiring of human creatures, I feel that I would not only
without regret but with perfect cheerfulness and satisfac-
tion retire in their society to an obscurity in which my
name should never be heard. Wealth, power, fame,
become as nothing to me compared with their most sweet
and precious affection.
THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY
Letter to his sister Margaret
ADORING SISTER
Living as I do with a man who will, I fully believe, before
long be acknowledged by the world to be the great man
I now know him to be, I cannot help regretting that I
have never endeavoured to preserve some record of his
conversation ; his talents in conversation being equal, if
not superior, to any other he possesses. I certainly never
listen to any one (and I have listened to some of whom the
world thinks highly) who brings into the ordinary inter-
course of society, and applies to every subject, the mind,
the intellectual power, I have never failed to find in
him. . . .
His conversation is often extremely lively and humorous
226
... I do not wonder that he does not like to hide this
talent under a bushel, for it is certainly the cleverest
nonsense I ever heard. ... I intend making this a scrap-
book about him for my own amusement and that of others
in time to come. . . . How sadly shall I, perhaps., in future
days, look on these records of the past gay years ! But if
my dearest, dearest Tom still loves me, and I am not
separated from him, I feel now as if I could bear anything.
But the idea of being separated from him is what I cannot
support. He has given me tastes which no other person
can satisfy, he has for years been the object of my whole
heart, every occupation almost has had him for its object
and end in some manner, and without him would be void
of interest.
I think I was about twelve when I first became very
fond of him, and from that time my affection for him has
gone on increasing during a period of seven years. I never
shall forget my delight and enchantment when I first found
that I could talk to him, and that he seemed to like talking
to me. His manner indeed was very flattering to such a
child as I was, for he always seemed to take as much pains
and exert himself as much to amuse and please me, to
explain anything I wished to know, or inform me on any
subject, as he could have done to the greatest person in
the land. . . .
I have been hearing a good deal of speech-making
to-day, which has made me wild to hear Tom. ... It
seems to me now as if it would be almost too much for
me to witness that mightiest of all triumphs, the triumph
of mind over mind, to hear those burning words, those
streams of pure and lofty eloquence, to listen to music
dearer to my ears than Pasta could ever make, in the
enthusiastic applause of all about me, and to feel that he
227
who was exercising this mighty influence prized the
happy tears of my proud, triumphant, devoted affection
more than the compliments and applause of the first men
in his country. And oh ! how almost too happy to feel
that in that heart beating so high in the consciousness and
the triumph of unrivalled powers — in his very heart of
hearts — was reserved a place for me. Dearest, dearest,
dearest, I feel as if I could not love him enough. . . .
I have just been looking round our little drawing-room,
as if trying to impress every inch of it on my memory, and
thinking how in future years it will rise before my mind
as the scene of many hours of light-hearted ease and mirth ;
how I shall see him again, lolling indolently on the old
blue sofa, or strolling round the narrow confines of our
room, who was all the world to me. With such a scene
will come the remembrance of his beaming, animated
countenance, happy, affectionate smile, and joyous laugh
. . . grave or gay, making bad puns, rhymes, riddles, and
talking all sorts of nonsense, or " more than mortal wise,"
eloquent and original, pouring out from the stores of his
full mind in his own peculiarly beautiful and expressive
language. . . . How strange ! I sometimes think, as those
enchanting talents which in various ways delight the
world are exerted and displayed for my amusement or
instruction — how strange that I, of all people, should be
so intimately connected with and so dearly love, and
above all be loved by him ! But so it is.
MARGARET MACAULAY
Recollections of T.EM. (1831-2)
228
GAMES
BOWLS
My Lord Brookes us'd to be much resorted to by those
of the preciser sort, who had got a powerful hand over
him ; yet they would allow him Christian libertie for his
recreations : but being at bowles one day, in much com-
pany, and following his cast with much eagernesse, he
cryed, " Rubbe, rubbe, rubbe, rubbe, rubbe." His chap-
laine (a very strict mann) runns presently to him : and in
the hearing of diverse, " O good my Lord, leave that to
God — you must leave that to God ! " sayes he.
SIR NICHOLAS LESTRANGE
Merry Passages and Jests (1630-55)
He was the greatest gallant of his time, and the greatest
gamester, both for bowling and cards, so that no shop-
keeper would trust him for 6J, as to-day for instance he
might, by winning, be worth £200, the next day he might
not be worth half so much, or perhaps be minus nihile.
He was one of the best bowlers of his time in England.
His sisters comeing to the Peccadillo bowling green,
crying for the feare he should loose all their portions.
JOHN AUBREY
Brief Lives : Sir John Suckling (c. 1680)
229
FOOTBALL
Football is nothyng but beastely fury and extreme
violence, whereof procedeth hurte, and consequently
rancour and malice do remayne with thym that be
wounded, wherfore it is to be put in perpetuall silence.
SIR THOMAS ELYOT
The Boke Called the Governour (1531)
STOOLBALL
A time there is for all, my mother often sayes,
When she with skirts tuckt very hie, with gyrles at
stoolball playes.
^ J SIR PHILIP SIDNEY
Dialogue between Two Shepheards (1586)
CHESS
Chesse-play is a good and witty exercise of the minde for
some kind of men, and fit for such melancholy ... as are
idle, and have extravagant thoughts impertinent thoughts,
or troubled with cares, nothing better to distract their
minde and alter their meditations, invented (some say)
by the general of an army in a famine, to keep his souldiers
from mutiny but ... it may doe more harme than good ;
it is a game too troublesome for some men's braines, too
testy full of anxiety, all out as bad as study ; besides, it is a
cholericke game, and very offensive to him that looseth
230
the Mate. William the Conquerour in his yonger years,
playing at Chesse with the Prince of France, . . . losing a
Mate, knocked the Chessboard about his pate, which
was a cause afterward of much enmity between them.
... A sport fit for idle Gentlemen, Souldiers in Garrison,
and Courtiers that have naught but Love matters to busie
themselves about, but not altogether so convenient for
such as are students.
ROBERT BURTON
The Anatomy of Melancholy (1621. Edition 1632)
Memorandum : he would say that he look't upon the play
at chesse very fitt to be learn't and practiced by young
men, because it would make them to have a foresight and
be of use to them ... in their ordering of humane affaires.
Quod N.B.
JOHN AUBREY
Brief Lives : Francis Potter (c. 1680)
CRICKET
Cricket of late years is become exceedingly fashionable,
being much countenanced by the nobility and gentlemen
of fortune, who frequently join in the diversion ; this
game, which is played with the bat and the ball, consists
of single and double wicket ; the former requires five
players on each side, and the latter eleven; but the number
in both instances can be varied at the pleasure of the
two parties. At single wicket the striker with his bat is the
protector of the wicket, the opponent party stand in the
field to catch or stop the ball, and the bowler, who is one
231
of them, takes his place by the side of a small batton or
stump set up for that purpose two and twenty yards from
the wicket, and thence delivers the ball with the intention
of beating it down. If he proves successful the batsman
retires from the play, and another of his party succeeds ;
if, on the contrary, the ball is struck by the bat and driven
into the field beyond the reach of those who stand out to
stop it, the striker runs to the stump at the bowler's
station, which he touches with his bat and then returns to
his wicket. If this be performed before the ball is thrown
back, it is called a run, and one notch or score is made upon
the tally towards his game ; if, on the contrary, the ball be
thrown up and the wicket beaten down with it ... before
the striker is at home ... he is declared to be out of the
play ... he is also out if he strikes the ball into the air,
and if it be caught by any of his antagonists before it reaches
the ground. . . . When double wicket is played, two bats-
men go in at the same time, one at each wicket. . . . Both
parties have two innings, and the side that obtains the most
runs in the double contest claims the victory. These are
the general outlines of this noble pastime, but . . . those
rules are subject to frequent variations, according to the
joint determination of the players.
JOSEPH STRUTT
Sports and Pastimes of the People of England (1801)
TRAP-BALL
Trap-ball, when compared with cricket, is but a childish
pastime.
Ibid
232
PARLOUR GAMES
The ordinary recreations which we have in Winter, and
in most solitary times busie our minds with, are Gardes,
Tables, and Dice, Shovel-board, Chesse-play, . . . shuttle-
cock, balliarde, musicke, masks, singing, dancing, ule-
games, froliks, jests, riddles, catches, purposes, questions
and commands, merry tales of Errant Knights, Queenes,
Lovers, Lords, Ladies, Giants, Dwarfs, Theeves, Chea-
ters, Witches, Fayries, Goblins, Friers, &c. . . and the rest,
which some delight to heare, some to tell, all are well
pleased with. ROBERT BURTON
The Anatomy of Melancholy (1621. Edition 1632)
CRIBBAGE
Sir John Suckling . . . invented the game of Cribbidge.
He sent his cards to all gameing places in the country,
which were marked with private markes of his : he gott
£20,000 by this way. JOHN AUBREY
Brief Lives : Sir John Suckling (c. 1680)
GOLF
Hard by, in the fields called the Links, the citizens of
Edinburgh divert themselves at a game called golf, in
which they use a curious kind of bats, tipt with horn, and
small elastic balls of leather, stuffed with feathers, rather
less than tennis balls, but of a much harder consist-
ence This they strike with such force and dexterity
233
from one hole to another, that they will fly to an incredible
distance. Of this diversion the Scots are so fond, that
when the weather will permit, you may see a multitude
of all ranks, from the senator of justice to the lowest
tradesman, mingled together in their shirts, and following
the balls with the utmost eagerness Among others,
I was shewn one particular set of golfers, the youngest,
of whom was turned of fourscore They were all
gentlemen of independent fortunes, who had amused
themselves with this pastime for the best part of a century,
without having ever felt the least alarm from sickness or
disgust ; and they never went to bed, without having each
the best part of a gallon of claret in his belly. Such un-
interrupted exercise, co-operating with the keen air from
the sea, must, without all doubt, keep the appetite always
on edge, and steel the constitution against all the common
attacks of distemper.
TOBIAS SMOLLETT
Humphry Clinker (1771)
DRAUGHTS
Johnson, I believe, did not play at draughts after leaving
College, by which he suffered ; for it would have afforded
him an innocent soothing relief from the melancholy
which distressed him so often. . . . The game of draughts
we know is peculiarly calculated to fix the attention with-
out straining it. There is a composure and gravity in
draughts which insensibly tranquillises the mind ; and,
accordingly, the Dutch are fond of it.
JAMES BOSWELL
Life of Johnson (1791)
234
GARDENS
THAT INSINUATING PLEASURE
The Turks who past their dayes in Gardens here, will
have Gardens also hereafter, and delighting in Flowers on
earth, must have Lillies and Roses in Heaven. In Garden
Delights 'tis not easie to hold a Mediocritie ; that in-
sinuating pleasure is seldome without some extremity.
The Antients venially delighted in flourishing Gardens ;
Many were Florists that knew not the true use of a Flower.
. . . Some commendably affected Plantations of venemous
Vegetables, some confined their delights unto single
plants, and Cato seemed to dote upon Cabbadge ; While
the Ingenuous delight of Tulipists stands saluted with
hard language, even by their own Professors.
SIR THOMAS BROWNE
Epistle Dedicatory to The Garden of Cyrus (1658)
FRENCH
I fmish'd this day with a walke in the greate garden of
the Thuilleries, rarely contriv'd for privacy, shade, or
company, by groves, plantations of tall trees, especially
that in the middle, being of elmes, the other of mulberys ;
235
and that labyrinth of cypresse ; not omitting the noble
hedges of pomegranates, fountaines, fishponds, and an
aviary ; but above all the artificial echo, redoubling the
words so distinctly, and as it is never without some faire
nymph singing to its gratefull returns : standing at one
of the focus's, which is under a tree, or little cabinet of
hedges, the voice seems to descend from the clouds ; at
another as if it was underground. This being at the bo tome
of the garden, we were let into another, which was being
kept with all imaginable accuratenesse as to the orangery,
precious shrubes, and rare fruites, seem'd a paradise.
JOHN EVELYN
Diary (Feb. 8, 1644)
From hence about a league farther we went to see Cardinal
Richelieu's villa at Ruell . . . though the house is not of
the greatest, the gardens about it are so magnificent that
I doubt whether Italy has any exceeding it for all rarities
of pleasure. The garden nearest the pavilion is a parterre,
having in the middst divers noble brasse statues, perpetu-
ally spouting water into an ample bassin, . . . ; but what
is most admirable is the vast enclosure, and variety of
ground, in the large garden, containing vineyards, corne-
fields, meadows, groves (whereof one is of perennial
greenes), and walkes of vast lengthes, so accurately kept
and cultivated, that nothing can be more agreeable. . . .
This leads to the Citroniere, which is a noble conserve of
all those rarities ; and at the end of it is the Arch of Con-
stantine, painted on a wall in oyle, as large as the real one
at Rome, so well don that even a man skill'd in painting
may mistake it for stone and sculpture. The skie and hills
236
which seem to be between the arches are so naturall that
swallows and other birds, thinking to fly through, have
dashed themselves against the wall. I was infinitely taken
with this agreeable cheate, T7 . , ,„ , , ,
6 Ibid. (Feb. 27, 1644)
ITALIAN
Arriv'd at Tivoli, ye went first to see the Palace dEste. . . .
In the garden on the right hand are 16 vast conchas of
marble jetting out waters ; . . . Before the ascent of the
palace is the famous fountaine of Leda, and not far from
that, foure sweete and delicious gardens. Descending
thence are two pyramids of water, and in a grove of trees
neere it the fountaines. . . . The grotts are richly pav'd
with pietra-commessa shells, corall, etc.
Towards Roma Triumphans leades a long and spacious
walk, full of fountaines, under which is historized the
whole Ovidian Metamorphosis in rarely sculptur'd mezzo
relievo. At the end of this, next the wall, is the cittie of
Rome as it was in its beauty, of small models, representing
that cittie, with its amphiteaters, naumachia, thermae,
temples, arches, aqueducts, streetes, and other magnifi-
cences, with a little streame running thro' it for the Tyber,
gushing out of an urne next the statue of the river. In
another garden is a noble aviarie, the birds artificial and
singing till an owle appeares, on which they suddenly
change their notes. . . . Below this are divers stews and
fish-ponds, in one of which is the statue of Neptune in
his chariot on a sea horse, in another a Triton ; and lastly
a garden of simples. „., ,.. . f .
6 F Ibid. (May 6, 1645)
237
ENGLISH
Indeed, it is the Purest of Human pleasures. It is the
greatest Refreshment to the Spirit of Man ; Without
which. Buildings and Pallaces are but Grosse Handy-
Works : And a Man shall ever see, that when Ages grow to
Civility and Elegancie, Men come to build Stately, sooner
then to Garden finely : As if Gardening were the Greater
Perfection. I doe hold it, in the Royall Ordering of
Gardens, there ought to be Gardens for all the Moneths
in the Yeare : In which, severally, Things of Beautie may
be then in Season. . . .
For Gardens . . . the Contents ought not well to be
under Thirty Acres of Ground ; And to be divided into
three Parts : A Greene in the Entrance ; A Heath or
Desart in the Going Forth ; And the Maine Garden in
the midst ; Besides Alleys on both sides. . . . The Greene
hath two pleasures ; The one, because nothing is more
Pleasant to the Eye then Greene Grasse kept finely
shorne ; The other, because it will give you a faire Alley
in the midst, by which you may go in front upon a Stately
Hedge, which is to inclose the Garden. . . .
As for the Making of Knots, or Figures, with Divers
Coloured Earths, that they may lie under the Windowes
of the House . . . they be but Toyes : You may see as
good Sights, many times, in Tarts. . . . And upon the
Upper Hedge, over every Space, between the Arches, a
little Turret, with a Belly, enough to receive a Cage of
Birds. ... I, for my part, doe not like Images Cut
out in Juniper, or other Garden Stuffe : They be for
Children. . . .
For Fountaines, they are a great Beauty, and Refresh-
238
ment ; But Pooles marre all, and make the Garden un-
wholsome, and full of Flies. . . .
For the Heath ... I wish it to be framed, as much as
may be, to a Naturall wildnesse. . . Thickets, made onely
of Sweet-briar, and Honny-suckl some wilde Vine
amongst ; And the Ground set with Violets, Strawberries,
and Prime-Roses. For these are Sweet, and prosper in
the Shade.
FRANCIS BACON
Of Gardens (1625)
GREEK
Without the hall, and close upon the gate,
A goodly orchard ground was situate,
Of neare ten Acres ; about which, was led
A loftie Quickset. In it flourished
High and broad fruit trees, that Pomegranats bore ;
Sweet Figs, Peares, Olives ; and a number more
Most usefull Plants, did there produce their store.
Whose fruits, the hardest Winter could not kill ;
Nor hotest Summer wither. There was still
Fruite in his proper season, all the yeare.
Sweet Zephire breath'd upon them, blasts that were
Of varied tempers. These, he made to beare
Ripe fruite ; these blossomes : Peare grew after peare ;
Apple succeeded apple ; Grape, the Grape ;
Fig after Fig came ; Time made never rape,
Of any dainty there. A spritely vine
Spred here his roote ; whose fruite, a hote sunshine
Made ripe betimes. Here grew another greene.
239
Here, some were gathering ; here some pressing
scene.
A large-allotted severall each fruite had ;
And all th' softn'd grounds their apparance made,
In flowre and fruite, at which the King did aime
To the precisest order he could claime.
Two Fountaines grac't the garden ; of which, one
Powrd out a winding streame that over-runne
The grounds for their use chiefly : th'other went
Close by the loftie Pallace gate ; and lent
The Citie his sweet benefit ; and thus
The Gods the Court deckt of Akinous.
HOMER
Odyssey. Book VII
Trans. George Chapman (1614)
EDEN
In this pleasant soile
His farr more pleasant Garden God ordaind ;
Out of the fertil ground he caus'd to grow
All Trees of noblest kind for sight, smell, taste ;
And all amid them stood the Tree of Life,
High, eminent, blooming Ambrosial Fruit
Of vegetable Gold ; and next to Life
Our Death the Tree of Knowledge grew fast by ...
Thus was this place,
A happy rural seat of various view :
Groves whose rich Trees wept odorous Gumms and
Balme,
Others whose fruit burnisht with Golden Rinde
240
Hung amiable, Hesperian Fables true.
If true, here onely, and of delicious taste :
Betwixt them Lawns, or level Downs, and Flocks
Grasing the tender herb, were interpos'd,
Or palmie hilloc, or the flourie lap
Of som irriguous Valley spread her store,
Flours of all hue, and without Thorn the Rose ;
Another side, umbrageous Grots and Caves
Of coole recess, o're which the mantling Vine
Layes forth her purple Grape, and gently creeps ;
Luxuriant ; mean while murmuring waters fall
Down the slope hills, disperst, or in a Lake,
That to the fringed Bank with Myrtle crown'd,
Her chrystall mirror holds, unite thir streams,
The Birds thir quire apply ; aires, vernal aires,
Breathing the smell of field and grove, attune,
The trembling leaves, while Universal Pan
Knit with the Graces and the Hours in dance
Led on th' Eternal Spring.
JOHN MILTON
Paradise Lost. Book IV (1667)
PRUNING
On to thir mornings rural work they haste
Among sweet dewes and flours ; where any row
Of Fruit-trees overwoodie reached too farr
Thir pamperd boughes, and needed hands to check
Fruitless imbraces.
Ibid.
Book V
241
AMANDA
And now what Monarch would not Gard'ner be,
My faire Amanda's stately gate to see ;
How her feet tempt ! how soft and light she treads,
Fearing to wake the flowers from their beds !
Yet from their sweet green pillowes ev'ry where,
They start and gaze about to see my Faire ;
Look at yon flower yonder, how it growes
Sensibly ! how it opes its leaves and blowes,
Puts its best Easter clothes, on neat and gay !
Amanda's presence makes it holy-day :
Look how on tip-toe that faire lilie stands
To look on thee, and court thy whiter hands
To gather it ! I saw in yonder croud
The Tulip-bed, of which Dame-Flora's proud,
A short dwarfe flower did enlarge its stalk,
And shoot an inch to see Amanda walk ; . . .
The broad-leav'd Sycamore, and ev'ry tree
Shakes like the trembling Aspe, and bends to thee,
And each leaf proudly strives with fresher aire,
To fan the curled tresses of thy hair ;
Nay, and the Bee too, with his wealthie thigh,
Mistakes his hive, and to thy lips doth flie ;
Willing to treasure up his honey there,
Where honey-combs so sweet and plenty are :
Look how that pretty modest Columbine
Hangs down its head to view those feet of thine !
See the fond motion of the Strawberrie,
Creeping on th'earth, to go along with thee !
The lovely violet makes after too,
Unwilling yet, my dear, to part with you ;
The knot-grasse and the dazies catch thy toes
242
To catch my fair e ones feet before she goes ;
All court and wish me lay Amanda down,
And give my Dear a new green flower 'd gown.
Come let me kisse thee falling, kisse at rise,
Thou in the Garden, I in Paradise.
NICHOLAS HOOKES
To Amanda walking in the Garden (1653)
As ELEVATING INFLUENCES
. . . my abhor rency of those painted and formall projec-
tions of our cockney gardens and plotts, which appeare like
gardens of past-board and march-pane, and smell more of
paynt than of flowers and verdure : our drift is a noble,
princely, and universall Elysium, capable of all the amoen-
ities that can naturally be introduced into gardens of plea-
sure, and such as may stand in competition with all the
august designes and stories of this nature, either of antient
or moderne times ; . . . We will endeavour to shew how
the aire and genius of gardens operat upon humane spirits
towards virtue and sanctitie How caves, grotts, mounts,
and irregular ornaments of gardens do contribute to con-
templative and philosophicall enthusiasme . . . influence
the soule and spirits of man, and prepare them for con-
verse with good angells ; besides which, they contribute to
the lesse abstracted pleasures, phylosophy naturall and
longevitie : and I would have not onely the elogies and
effigies of the antient and famous garden heroes, but a
society of the Paradisi Cultores. . . . Paradisean and Hort-
ulan saints, to be a society of learned and ingenuous men,
such as Dr Browne. JOHN EVELYN
Letter to Sir Thomas Browne (1658)
243
NOTES FOR A BOOK ON GARDENS
Chap VII, Lib 3 : Paradise, Elysian fields, Hesperides,
Horti Adonidis, Alcinoi, Semyramis, Salomon's, The
pensile gardens in Babylon. . . . Democritus's garden,
Epicurus's at Athens, hortorum ille magister, as Pliny calls
him . . . and many others. . . .
Amongst the antient Romanes. . . .
In America. Montezuma's floating garden, and others in
Mexico. . . .
In England — Wilton, Dodington, Spensherst . . . my
elder brother George Evelyn's in Surrey, far surpassing
any else in England, it may be my owne poore garden
may for its kind, perpetually greene, not be unworthy
mentioning.
The gardens mentioned in Scripture, &c.
Miraculous and extraordinary gardens found upon huge
fishes' backs, men over growne with flowers &c.
Romantique and Poeticall gardens out of Sidney, Spen-
cer ... Homer . . . &c. JOHN EVELYN
Letter to Sir Thomas Browne (1658)
THE GARDEN OF PLEASURE
The most pleasant and delectable thing for recreation
belonging unto our farmes is our flower gardens, . . .
It is a commendable and seemely thing to behold out at a
window many acres of ground well tilled and husbanded,
. . . But yet it is much more to behold faire and comely
proportions, handsome and pleasant arboures and as it
were closets, delightfull borders of lavender, rosemarie,
244
boxe, and other such like : to heare the ravishing musicke
of an infinite number of prettie small birdes, which
continually day and night doe chatter and chant their pro-
per and naturall branch songs upon the hedges and trees
of the garden : and to smell so sweet a nosegaie so neere
at hand : seeing that this so fragrant a smell cannot but
refresh the Lord of the farme exceedingly, when going out
of his bed-chamber in the morning after the sunne rise,
and whiles as yet the cleere and pearlelike dew doth pearch
unto the grasse. He giveth himselfe to heare the melodious
musicke of the Bees : which busying themselves in gather-
ing of the same, do also fill the aire with a most acceptable,
sweet and pleasant harmonic : besides the borders and
continued rowes of soveraigne, thyme, balme, rosemarie,
marierome, cypers, soothernwood, and other fragrant
herbes, the sight and view whereof cannot but give great
contentment unto the beholder.
The garden of pleasure must be cast and contrived close
to the one side of the kitchin garden, but yet so, as that
they be sundred by the intercourse of a great large alleye,
as also a hedge of quickset, having three doores. . . . The
kitchin garden is to be compassed and set about with
lattise worke, and yoong common bordering stuffe to be
made up afterward and contrived into arbours, or as it
were into small chappels, or oratories and places to make
a speech out off, that many standing about and below may
heare. In like sort shall the garden of pleasure be set about
and compassed in with arbours made of Jesamin, rose-
marie, boxe, juniper, cyper-trees savin, cedars, rose-trees,
and other dainties first planted and pruned according as
the nature of every one doth require, but after brought
into some forme and order with willow or juniper poles,
such as may serve for the making of arbours. . . .
245
This garden shall be devided into two equall parts. The
one shall containe the herbes and flowres used to make
nosegaies and garlands of, ... and it may be called the
nosegaie garden. The other part shall have all other sweet
smelling herbes, . . . and this may be called the garden
for herbs of a good smell.
CHARLES ESTIENNE
Maison Rustique (1572) Trans. Richard Surflet (1600)
VAUXHALL
By water to Fox-hall, and there walked in Spring Garden.
A great deal of company and the weather and garden plea-
sant : that it is very pleasant and cheap going thither, for
a man may go to spend what he will, or nothing, all is one.
But to haer the nightinghale and other birds, and here
fiddles, and there a harp, and here a Jew's trump, and
here laughing, and there fine people walking, is mighty
divertising.
SAMUEL PEPYS
Diary (May 28, 1667)
CHIEF HELP AND JOY
When God did Man to his own likenes make, . . .
He did a garden for him plant
By the quick hand of his omnipotent word.
As the cheif help and joy of human life,
Hee gave him the first gift, first, even before a Wife.
246
For God, the universale Architect,
'T had ben as easy to erect
A Louvre, or Escuriall, or a Tower . . .
But well hee knew what place would best agree
With innocence and with faelicitie ;
And wee elsewhere still seek for them in vain, . . .
God the first garden made, and the first city, Cain.
Oh blessed shades ! oh, gentle cool retreat,
From all th'immoderat heat
In which the frantick world does burn and sweat ! . . .
The birds that dance from bough to bough,
And sing above in every tree,
Are not from fears and cares more free
Then wee who ly, or sit, or walk below,
And should by right bee singers too.
What princes quire of musick can excel
That which in this shade does dwel ?
For which we nothing pay or give,
They like all other poets live
Without reward or thanks for their obliging pains ; . . .
The whistling winds add their less artfull straines,
And a grave base the murmuring fountains play ;
ABRAHAM COWLEY
The Garden (1666)
EATING FRUIT
That which makes the cares of gardening more necessary,
or at least excuseable, is, that all men eat fruit that can
get it ; so as the choice is only, whether one will eat Good
or 111. Now whoever will be sure to eat good fruit, must
247
do it out of a garden of his own ; for besides the choice so
necessary in the sorts, the soil, and so many other circum-
stances that go to compose a good garden, or produce good
fruits, and there is something very nice in gathering them,
and chusing the best even from the same tree. ... So that
for all things out of a garden, either of sallads or fruits, a
poor man will eat better, that has one of his own, then a
rich man that has none. And this is all I think of, Necessary
and Useful to be known upon this subject.
SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE, Of Gardening (1685)
GIVING ADVICE
To LORD BYRON, TO BE MORE RESERVED
Talking one day of his domestic misfortunes, as he always
likes to call his separation from Lady Byron, he dwelt in a
sort of unmanly strain of lamentation on it, that all present
felt to be unworthy of him ; and as the evening before I had
heard this habititude of his commented on by persons
indifferent about his feelings, who even ridiculed his
making it a topic of conversation with mere acquaintances,
I wrote a few lines in verse expressive of my sentiments and
handed it across the table round which we were seated, as
he was sitting for his portrait. He read them, became red and
pale by turns with anger, and threw them down on the table
with an expression of countenance which is not to be
248
forgotten. The following are the lines, which had nothing
to offend ; but they did offend him deeply, and he did not
recover his temper during the rest of his stay.
And canst thou bare thy breast to vulgar eyes ?
And canst thou shew the wounds that rankle there ?
Methought in noble hearts that sorrow lies
Too deep to suffer coarser minds to share.
The wounds inflicted by the hand we love,
(The hand that should have warded off each blow)
Are never heal'd, as aching hearts can prove.
But sacred should the stream of sorrow flow.
If friendship' '$ pity quells not real grief,
Can public pity soothe thy woes to sleep ?
No ! Byron, spurn such vain, such weak relief,
And if thy tears must fall — in secret weep.
LADY BLESSINGTON
Conversations with Byron (1834)
To A LADY, FROM ANOTHER, TO BE DISCREET
It is an unruly Age we live in. ... I understand there is a
Gentleman Mr A. B. is extremely prodigal of his pretences
to you, in the way of Love and Marriage : my Condition is
only this, that you have an eye to your own welfare, build
not upon empty promises, for if you once surfer him to
please his humour before he is safely yours, you will
certainly forfeit your own Honour. Consider, as he is
above you in purse, and the portions of this life (Beauty
only excepted, for of that Nature hath given you a
bountiful proportion) whether his intentions are real or
249
feigned ; make him your own, then ... he will be bound by
the Laws of God and Nature, to bear a part with you in
whatsoever happens. ANON
New Academy of Compliments (1671)
To A SON IN FRANCE, TO IMPROVE HIS FRENCH,
LIVE RELIGIOUSLY, AND KEEP INSECTS IN ABox
Honest Tom,
I wish some Person would direct you a while for
the true Pronounsation and writeing of French ; by noe
means forget to encrease yr Latin, be Patient Civil and
Debonair unto all, be Temperate and stir little in the hot
season ; . . . Have the love and fear of God ever before thine
eyes, God confirm yr faith in Christ and that you may live
accordingly, Je vous recommende A dieu. If you meet
with any Pretty insects of any kind keep them in a box.
SIR THOMAS BROWNE
Letter to his son Thomas (1661)
To CICERO, NOT TO BE DISTURBED BY His
DAUGHTER'S DEATH
I have decided to write briefly to you the thoughts that have
occurred to my mind on this occasion ; not that I think
they escape you, but because perhaps, hampered by
grief, you perceive them less clearly.
Why is it that you are so disturbed by a private grief ?
Consider how fortune up till now has treated us ; those
things have been taken from us which should be no less
250
dear to us than our children — country, reputation, posi-
tion, all honours. What can this one additional misfortune
add to your grief? Or who, trained by these things, ought
not to be thick-skinned, and to consider everything else of
less importance ? . . . .
This, too, if it seems good to you, consider. Lately
there perished simultaneously many famous men ; the
imperial power of the Roman people has been much
diminished ; all the provinces have been shaken ; are you
so much moved to trouble because the little life of one
little woman has been thrown away ? If she had not met
her fate now, she would have had to die in a few years,
since she was human. You must recall your mind and
thoughts from these topics, and remember rather what is
worthy of you. . . .
I am ashamed to write more to you about this, lest I
should seem to distrust your sense ; therefore, when I
have mentioned this one thing more, I will stop. We have
often seen that you bear good fortune beautifully . . .
show us that you can bear adversity equally well, and that
you do not consider your burden greater than you should.
When I learn that you are calmer, I shall inform you of
the condition of my province. SERVIUS SULPICIUS RUFUS
Letter to M. T. Cicero (45 B.C.)
To MILTON, TO WRITE OF PARADISE FOUND
After some common Discourses had passed between us, he
called for a Manuscript of his ; which being brought, he
delivered to me; bidding me, " Take it home with me, and
read it at my Leisure ; and, when I had so done, return it
251
to him, with my Judgement therupon." When I came
home, and had set myself to read it, I found it was
that Excellent POEM which he entitled PARADISE LOST.
After I had, with the best Attention, read it through : I
made him another Visit, and returned him his Book ; with
due Acknowledgment of the Favour he had done me in
Communicating it to me. He asked me, how I liked it,
and what I thought of it ; which I modestly but freely told
him. And, after some further Discourse about it, I
pleasantly said to him, Thou has said much, here, of
PARADISE LOST : but what hast thou to say of PARADISE
FOUND ? He made me no answer, but sate some time
in a Muse : then brake off that Discourse, and fell upon
another Subject. . . .
Afterwards ... he shewed me his Second Poem,
called PARADISE REGAINED : and, in a pleasant tone, said
to me, This is owing to you ! For you put it into my head, by
the question you put to me at Chalfont, which, before, I had
not thought of. THOMAS ELLWOOD
History of his Life (1714)
To THE VIRGINS TO MAKE MUCH OF TIME
Gather ye Rose-buds while ye may,
Old Time is still a flying :
And this same flower that smiles to day
To morrow will be dying.
The glorious Lamp of Heaven, the Sun,
The higher he's a getting ;
The sooner will his Race be run,
And neerer he's to Setting.
252
That Age is best, which is the first.
When Youth and Blood are warmer ;
But being spent, the worse, and worst
Times, still succeed the former.
Then be not coy, but use your time ;
And while ye may, goe marry :
For having lost but once your prime,
You may for ever tarry.
ROBERT HERRICK
To the Virgins, to make much of time. Hesperides (1648)
To YOUNG GENTLEWOMEN, TO TRUST No MAN
Ye Virgins that from Cupids tents
do beare away the foyle,
Whose hartes as yet with raginge love
most paynfully do boyle,
To you I speake ; For you be they
that good advice do lack ;
Oh ! if I could good counsell give,
my tongue should not be slacke. . . .
Beware of fayre and painted talke,
beware of flattering tonges !
The mermaides do pretend no good,
for all their pleasant Songs. . . .
Trust not a man at the fyrst sight,
but trye him well before :
I wish all Maids, within their brests,
to kepe this thing in store ;
253
For triall shall declare this trueth
and show what he doth think :
Whether he be a Lover true,
or do intend to shrink.
is. w.
An Admonition to all young Gentlewomen to beware of
Mens flattery (1566)
GOSSIP
CICERO SPURNS IT
What ? Do you consider that this is what I commissioned
you'to do, to send me stories about gladiatorial matches,
about adjourned bails, about the robbery of Chrestus, and
such stuff as nobody dares mention to me when I am at
Rome ?
CICERO
Letter to M. Caelius Rufus (B.C. 51)
BUT STILL GETS IT
There is absolutely no news, unless you want me (and I'm
sure you do) to write to you about this kind of thing :
Young Cornificius has promised marriage to Orsetilla's
254
daughter. Paulla Valeria, Triarius's sister, got a divorce,
without giving a reason, the very day her husband was to
return home from his province. She is to marry D. Brutus .
She has sent back all her ornaments.
A lot of incredible things like this have happened in
your absence. Servius Ocella would never have persuaded
any one that he was an adulterer if he hadn't been caught
at it twice in three days. Where, you will ask ? Where
I should least have wished, by Hercules ! I leave you
something to find out from others. And I don't mind the
idea of a Commander-in-Chief inquiring of people one
by one who was the lady someone was caught with.
M. CAELIUS RUFUS
Letter to Cicero (B.C. 50)
THE LITTLE NEWS o' THE TOWN
PAGE : Madam, Mr Medley has sent to know whether a
Visit will not be Troublesome this Afternoon ?
LADY TOWNLEY : Send him word his visits never are so.
EMILIA : He's a very pleasant man.
LADY TOWN. : He's a very necessary man among us
Women ; he's not scandalous i'the least, perpetually con-
triving to bring good Company together, and always ready
to stop us a gap at Ombre ; then he knows all the little
news o' the Town.
EMILIA : I love to hear him talk o' the Intrigues, let 'em
be never so dull in themselves, he'l make 'em pleasant
i' the relation.
LADY TOWN. : But he improves things so much one can
255
take no measure of the Truth from him. Mr Dorimant
swears a Flea or a Maggot is not made more monstrous
by a magnifying Glass, than a story is by his telling it.
EMILIA : Hold, here he comes.
EMILIA : Leave your raillery, and tell us, is there any new
Wit come forth. Songs or Novels ?
MEDLEY : A very pretty piece of gallantry, by an eminent
Author, call'd the diversions of Bruxells, .... Then there
is the Art of Affectation, written by a late beauty of
Quality, teaching you how to draw up your Breasts,
stretch up your neck, to thrust out your Breech, to play
with your Head, to toss up your Nose, to bite your Lips,
to turn up your Eyes, to speak in a silly soft tone of a
Voice, and use all the Foolish French Words that will
infallibly make your person and conversation charming,
with a short apologie at the latter end in the behalf of
young Ladies who notoriously wash and paint, though
they have naturally good Complexions.
EMILIA : What a deal of stuff you tell us !
MED. : Such as the Town affords, Madam. The Russians,
hearing the great respect we have for Foreign Dancing,
have lately sent over some of their best Ballarins, who
are now practicing a famous Ballat which will be suddenly
danc'd at the Bear-Garden.
LADY TOWN. : Pray forbear your idle stories, and give us
an account of the state of Love, as it now stands.
MED. : Truly, there has been some revolutions in those
Affairs, great chopping and changing among the old, and
some new Lovers, whom malice, indiscretion, and mis-
fortune, have luckily brought into play.
LADY TOWN. : What think you of walking into the next
256
Room, and sitting down, before you engage in this
business ?
MED. : I wait upon you, and I hope, (though Women are
commonly unreasonable) by the plenty of Scandal I shall
discover, to give you very good Content, Ladies.
SIR GEORGE ETHEREGE
The Man of Mode (1674)
COFFEE HOUSES AT OXFORD
The decay of study, and consequently of learning, are coffy
houses, to which most scholars retire and spend much of
the day in hearing and speaking of news, in speaking vilely
of their superiors. ANTHONY WOOD
Life and Times (1674)
A PACKET OF IT
I venture to write to you after six Months Neglect. Not
that I think you care much for my letters neither ; don't
mistake. ... I know my Lady gives you an Account
of all material things, Intrigues and new Petticoats. As for
Politicks, you'd clap them under Minc'd-pies, and well if
they fared no worse. In short, I know nothing but Religion
you care a Farthing for ; and that the Town's so bare of at
present, I cou'd as soon send you Money. No-body prays
but the Court ; and perhaps they had as good let it alone ;
at least No-body sees, by the Effects, what they pray for ;
'tis thought, a general Excise. But Heaven, who knows
IP 257
our wants better, seems to be of Opinion a General Peace
will do as well
The first time I shew'd myself, since I came to Town,
upon that Theatre of Truth and Good Nature, the
Chocolate-House, I was immediately regal'd with the old
Story (tho' from another Hand) That now you were gone
for certain. But that worthy Knight-Errant, Mr W ,
that Mirrour of Chivalry for all wrong'd Ladies, drew his
tongue in your Defence ; and I, Madam, had the Honour
to be his Sancho Pancho in your Justification. But how
long we shall be able to stand our Ground I can't tell,
unless you'll come and lug out too, and then I don't doubt
but we shall make our Party good. . . Here's a scoundrel
Play come out lately, by which the Author has been pleas'd
to bring all the Reverend Ladies of the Town upon his
Back, with my Lady at the head of 'em. . . But that
is not all his Misfortune ; there's a younger Knot, who,
having grimac'd themselves into the Faction of Piety, say,
' Tis a wicked Play, and a Blasphemous Play, and a Beastly,
Filthy, Bawdy Play ; and so never go to it but in a Mask.
Dear Mrs S , come to Town again quickly, and don't
put your Country- tricks upon us any longer, for here's
a World of Mischief in your Absence : The V is
leaner than ever. I am grown Religious. My Lord W
is going to be Married. Sir John Fenwick is going to be
Hanged. The W.L is boarded by a Sea-Officer : The
Lady Sh is Storm'd by a Land one. Yel has got
a high Intrigue ; and the P has got the Gripes. . . You
see all's in Disorder ; nor are things much better in the
Country, as I hear : For, 'tis said, the Spirit of Wedlock
haunts Folks in Shropshire. . . Some-body swore by
t'other Day, you were Married ; to whom, I have forgot,
tho' that was sworn too. But, pray, let's see you here
258
again ; and don't tell us a Scripture-story, That you have
married a Husband and can't come ; the Excuse, you see,
was not thought good, even in those Days, when things
wou'd pass on Folks that won't now.
My due Respects to the Mayor and Corporation of
S A PERSON OF HONOUR
Letter to Mrs S (1696)
EAGERNESS
The said Mr Aubrey gave Ant. a Wood abundance of
other of his informations; and Anthony used to say of him,
when he was at the same time in company, " Look, yonder
goes such an one, who can tell such and such stories, and
Pll warrant Mr Aubrey will break his neck down stairs
rather than miss him." THOMAS HEARNE
Diary (Aug. 5, 1710)
COLLECTING IT
Dear Sir. You desir'd me, when I saw you last, to send
you the News of the Town, and to let you see how punct-
ually I have obey'd your Orders, scarce a Day has pass'd
over my Head since, but I have been enquiring after the
freshest Ghosts and Apparitions for you, Rapes of the
newest date, dexterous Murders, and fantastical Mar-
riages, Country Steeples demolished by Lightning, Whales
stranded in the North, etc, a large Account of all which
you may expect when they come in my way. TOM BROWN
Letter to W. Knight (1690)
259
NEW ARRIVALS
We have Mr Lampton and his family lately com from
London and along with them a figne brisk phesicion and
a figne Maid they are Roman Catholics but appear very
well at a distance. I suppose we must not converse with
them which I am sorry for because they seem well bred
people
Mrs Hutton is from us at Present, the death of her
father who has left all to his wifes Management will I
doubt be injurious to her poor woman she's ill dealt with
and wants humer to bear it.
MRS TICKELL
Letter to her' son Thomas (1717)
WHO'S TOGETHER
Y'expect to hear, at least, what Love has past
In this lewd Town, since you and I saw last ;
What change has happen'd of Intrigues, and whether
The old ones last, and who and who's together.
JOHN WILMOT, EARL OF ROCHESTER
Letter from Artemisa in the town to Cloe in the
country (c. 1670)
BIRTHS, DEATHS AND MARRIAGES
I will be like any gazette, and scrape together all the births,
deaths and marriages in the parish. Lady Harrington
260
and Lady Rachel Walpole are brought to bed of sons ;
Lord Burlington and Lord Gower have had new attacks
of palsies : Lord Falkland is to marry the Southwark Lady
Suffolk ; and Mr Watson, Miss Grace Pelham. Lady Cov-
entry has miscarried of one or two children, and is going
on with one or two more, and is gone to France to-day.
Lady Townshend and Lady Caroline Petersham have had
their anniversary quarrel, and the Duchess of Devonshire
has had her secular Assembly, which she keeps once in
fifty years ; she was more delightfully vulgar at it than you
can imagine I am ashamed to send you such nonsense,
or to tell you how the good women at Hampton Court
are scandalized at Princess Emily's coming to chapel
last Sunday with a dog under her arm ; but I am bid to
send news : what can one do at such a dead time of year ?
I must conclude, as my Lady Gower did very well t'other
day in a letter into the country, Since the two Misses were
hanged, and the two Misses were married, there is nothing
at all talked of. Adieu !
HORACE WALPOLE
Letter to Henry Conway (1732)
THE GOSSIP-MONGER
No newes can stir but by his doore ; neither can he know
that, which hee must not tell : What everie man ventures
in Guiana voyage, and what they gained, he knowes to a
haire. Whether Holland will have peace hee knowes, and
on what conditions ; and with what successe, is familiar
to him ere it bee concluded. No post can passe him
261
without a question; and rather than he will leese the
newes, hee rides backe with him to appose him of tidings ;
and then to the next man hee meets, hee supplies the
wants of his hasty intelligence, and makes up a perfect
tale ; ... If hee but see two men talke and reade a letter
in the street, hee runnes to them, and asks if he may not
be partner of that secret relation ; and if they denie it,
hee offers to tell, since he may not heare, woonders : and
then falles upon the report of the Scotish Mine, or of the
great fish taken up at Linne, or of the freezing of the
Thames ; . . . His tongue like the taile of Sampsons foxes
carries fire-brands, and is enough to set the whole field of
the world on a flame. Himselfe beginnes table-talke of
his neighbour at anothers boord ; to whom he beares the
first newes, and adjures him to conceale the reporter :
whose cholericke answer he returnes to this first host,
inlarged with a second edition : so, as it uses to be done in
the sight of unwilling mastives, hee claps each on the side
apart, and provokes them to an eager conflict ; There
can no Act passe without his Comment, which is ever
far-fetcht, rash, suspicious, delatorie. His eares are long,
and his eyes quicke, but most of all to imperfection,
which as he easily sees, so he increases with intermedling.
Hee harbours another mans servant, and amiddes his
entertainment asks what fare is usuall at home, what
houres are kept, what talke passeth their mcales, what his
masters disposition is, what his government, what his
guests ? And when hee hath by curious enquiries extracted
all the juice and spirit of hoped intelligence, turnes him
off whence he came, and works on a new.
JOSEPH HALL
Characters of Vertues and Vices
(1608)
262
WHAT NEWS?
Amaranthus, the Philosopher, met Hermocles, Diophantus,
and Philolaus, his companions, one day busily discoursing
about Epicurus and Democritus tenents, very solicitous
which was most probable and came nearest to truth ; to
put them out of that surly controversie and to refresh their
spirits, he told them a pleasant tale of Stratocles the Phy-
sitian's wedding, and of all the particulars, the company,
the cheere, the musicke, &c, for he was new come from
it, with which relation they were so much delighted, that
Philolaus wished a blessing to his heart, and many a good
wedding, many such merry meetings might he be at, to
please himself with the sight., and others with the narration
of it. Newes are generally welcome to all our eares . . .
we long after rumour to heare and listen to it ... Wee
are most part too inquisitive and apt to harken after newes,
which Caesar . . . observes of the old Gauls, they would be
enquiring of every Carrier and Passenger, what they had
heard or scene, what newes abroad ? ROBERT BURTON
The Anatomy of Melancholy (1621. Edition 1632)
ABOVE THE CLOUDS
" I do so hate gossip," she murmured.
" How I hate it too ! " I heard myself exclaim.
" There is so much that is good and noble in human
nature ; why not talk of that ? "
" Why not indeed ? " I sighed.
" I always feel that it is one's own fault if one dislikes
people, or finds them boring."
263
<c How I agree with you ! " I cried sincerely.
" But people are nowadays so cynical — they sneer at
everything that makes life worth living — Love, Faith,
Friendship "
" And yet those very names are so lovely that even
when used in mockery they shine like stars."
" How beautifully you put it ! I have so enjoyed our
talk." I had enjoyed it too, and felt all the better for it, only
a little giddy and out of breath, as if I had been up in a
balloon. LOGAN PEARSALL SMITH, More Trivia (1922)
GRASPING
MATHEMATICIANS AND LOVERS
In Love and the Mathematicks People reason alike : Allow
never so little to a Lover, yet presently after you must
grant him more ; nay more and more, which will at last go
a great way : In like manner, grant but a Mathematician
one little Principle, he immediately draws a consequence
from it, to which you must necessarily assent ; and from
this consequence another, till he leads you so far (whether
you will or no) that you have much ado to believe -him.
These two sorts of People, Lovers and Mathematicians,
will always take more than you give 'em.
B. DE FONTENELLE, A Plurality of Worlds (1686)
Trans. John Glanvill (1688)
264
THE FAULT OF THE DUTCH
In matters of commerce, the fault of the Dutch
Is giving too little and asking too much.
GEORGE CANNING (c. 1 822)
USING OPPORTUNITY
Croesus having heard from the Lydians that Alcmaion
had done him service, sent for him to Sardia ; and when
he came, he offered to give him a gift of as much gold as
he could carry away at once upon his own person. With
a view to this gift, its nature being such, Alcmaion made
preparations and used appliances as follows : — he put on a
large tunic leaving a deep fold in the tunic to hang down
in front, and he drew on his feet the widest boots which he
could find, and so went to the treasury to which they con-
ducted him. Then he fell upon a heap of gold-dust, and
first he packed in by the side of his legs so much of the
gold as his boots would contain, and then he filled the whole
fold of the tunic with the gold, and sprinkled some of the
gold-dust on the hair of his head, and took some into his
mouth, and having so done he came forth out of the treasury,
with difficulty dragging along his boots and resembling
anything in the world rather than a man ; for his mouth
was stuffed full, and every part of him was swelled out :
and upon Croesus came laughter when he saw him, and he
not only gave him all that, but also presented him in
addition with more not inferior in value to that. Thus
this house became exceedingly wealthy, and thus the
Alcmaion of whom I speak became a breeder of chariot
horses and won a victory at Olympia. HERODOTUS
History. (5th c B.C.) Trans. G. C. Macaulay
265
GROTTOES
POPE'S
Twick'nam.
I have put the last Hand to my works of this kind, in
happily finishing the subterraneous Way and Grotto : I
there found a Spring of the clearest Water, which falls in
a perpetual rill, that echoes through the Cavern day and
night. From the River Thames, you see thro' my Arch up
a Walk of the Wilderness, to a kind of open Temple,
wholly compos Jd of Shells in the Rustic Manner ; and from
that distance under the Temple you look down thro' a
sloping Arcade of Trees, and see the Sails on the River
passing suddenly and vanishing, as thro' a Perspective
Glass. When you shut the Doors of this Grotto, it becomes
on the instant, from a luminous Room a Camera obscura ;
on the walls of which all the Objects of the River, Hills,
Woods and Boats, are forming a moving Picture in their
visible Radiations : and when you have a mind to light it
up, it affords you a very different Scene ; it is finished with
Shells interspersed with Pieces of Looking-glass in angular
forms : and in the Ceiling is a Star of the same Material,
at which when a lamp (of an orbicular Figure of thin
Alabaster) is hung in the Middle, a thousand pointed
Rays glitter, and are reflected over the Place. There are
266
connected to this Grotto by a narrower Passage two
Porches, with Niches and Seats ; one toward the River ; of
smooth Stones, full of light, and open ; the other toward
the Arch of Trees, rough with Shells, Flints, and Iron-
Ore. The Bottom is paved with simple Pebble, as the ad-
joining walk up the Wilderness to the Temple, is to be
cockle-shells, in the natural Taste, agreeing not ill with the
little dripping Murmur, and the Aquatic Idea of the whole
Place. It wants nothing to compleat it but a good Statue
with an Inscription, like that beautiful antique one which
you know I am so fond of,
Hujus Nympha loci, sacri custodia fontis,
Dormio, dum blandae sentio murmur aquae,
Parce meum, quisquis tangis cava marmora, somnum
Rumpere ; sen bibas, sive lavare, tace.
Nymph of the Grot, these sacred Springs I keep,
And to the Murmur of these Waters sleep ;
Ah spare my slumbers, gently tread the cave !
And drink in silence, or in silence lave I
You'll think I have been very Poetical in this Description,
but it is pretty near the Truth. I wish you were here to
bear Testimony how little it owes to Art, either the Place
itself, or the Image I give of it. ALEXANDER POPE
Letter to Edward Blount (1725)
(He had greatly inlarged and improved this Grotto not
long before his death : and, by incrusting it about with a
great number of ores and minerals of the richest and rarest
kinds, it was become one of the most elegant and romantic
267
retirements any where to be seen. He has made it the
subject of a very pretty poem of a singular cast and
composition.) WILLIAM WARBURTON (1751)
Thou who shalt stop, where Thames' translucent wave
Shines a broad Mirror thro' the shadowy Cave ;
Where ling'ring drops from min'ral Roofs distill.
And pointed Crystals break the sparkling Rill,
Unpolish'd Gems no ray on Pride bestow,
And latent Metals innocently glow ;
Approach. Great NATURE studiously behold !
And eye the Mine without a wish for Gold.
Approach : But awful ! Lo ! th' Algerian Grott,
Where, nobly pensive, ST JOHN sate and thought ;
Where British sighs from dying WYNDHAM stole,
And the bright flame was shot thro5 MARCHMONT'S
Soul,
Let such, such only, tread this sacred Floor,
Who dare to love their Country, and be poor.
ALEXANDER POPE
On his GROTTO at Twickenham, composed of Marbles ,
Spars, Gemms, Ores, and Minerals
The improving and finishing his Grott was the favourite
amusement of his declining Years ; and the beauty of his
poetic genius, in the disposition and ornaments of this
romantic recess, appears to as much advantage as in his
best contrived Poems. WILLIAM WARBURTON (1751)
268
DR. JOHNSON'S VIEW OF IT
Being under the necessity of making a subterraneous
passage to a garden on the other side of the road, he
adorned it with fossil bodies, and dignified it with the title
of a grotto ; a place of silence and retreat, from which he
endeavoured to persuade his friends and himself that cares
and passions could be excluded.
A grotto is not often the wish or pleasure of an English-
man, who has more frequent need to solicit than exclude
the sun ; but Pope's excavation was requisite as an
entrance to his garden, and, as some men try to be proud
of their defects, he extracted an ornament from an incon-
venience, and vanity produced a grotto where necessity
enforced a passage. It may be frequently remarked of
the studious and speculative ; that they are proud of trifles,
and that their amusements seem frivolous and childish ; t
whether it be that men conscious of great reputation
think themselves above the reach of censure, and safe in
the admission of negligent indulgences or that man-
kind expect from elevated genius an uniformity of great-
ness, and watch its degradation with malicious wonder ;
like him who, having followed with his eye an eagle into
the clouds, should lament that she ever descended to a
perch. SAMUEL JOHNSON, Life of Pope (1781)
POLYPHEMUS'S
My Palace, in the living Rock, is made
By Nature's Hand ; a spacious pleasing Shade :
Which neither Heat can pierce, nor Cold invade.
JOHN DRYDEN, Acis, Polyphemus and Galatea (1700)
From Ovid's Metamorphoses (c. 5 B.C.)
269
WILLIAM HARVEY'S
He did delight to be in the darke, and told me he could
then best contemplate. He had a house heretofore at
Coombe, in Surrey, a good aire and prospect, where he
had caves made in the earth, in which in summer time
he delighted to meditate. JOHN AUBREY
Brief Lives : William Harvey (c. 1680)
A GROTTO PARTY
On Wednesday night a small Vauxhall was acted for us
at the grotto in the Elysian fields, which was illuminated
with lamps, as were the thicket and the two little barks on
the lake. With a little exaggeration, I could make you
believe that nothing was ever so delightful. . . The evening
was more than cool, and the destined spot anything but
dry. There were not half lamps enough, and no music but
an ancient militia-man, who played cruelly on a squeak-
ing tabor and pipe. ... I could not help laughing as I sur-
veyed our troop, which, instead of tripping lightly to
such Arcadian entertainment, were hobbling down by
the balustrades, wrapped up in cloaks and great-coats,
for fear of catching cold. The Earl, you know, is bent
double, the Countess very lame, I am a miserable walker,
and the Princess, though as strong as a Brunswick lion,
makes no figure in going down fifty-stone stairs. Except
Lady Ann, and by courtesy Lady Mary, we were none
of us young enough for a pastoral. We supped in the
grotto, which is as proper to this climate as a sea-coal
fire would be in the dog-days at Tivoli.
HORACE WALPOLE, Letter to George Montagu (1770)
270
FOR A TOAD
The Lincolnshire lady who shewed him a grotto she had
been making came off no better . . . Would it not be a
pretty cool habitation in summer ? said she, Mr Johnson ?
" I think it would. Madam (replied he) — for a toad."
HESTHER Piozzi, Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson (1786)
GROTTOES ON THE CONTINENT
(a) Brussels
From hence we walked into the Park . . . nor is it less
plesant than if in the most solitary recesses, so naturally
is it furnish't with whatever may render it agreable,
melancholy and country-like. Here is a stately heronry,
divers springe of water, artificiall cascads, rocks, grotts ;
one whereof is compos'd of the extravagant roots of trees,
cunninly built and hung together with wires . . .
From hence we were led into the Menag, and out of
that into a most sweete and delicious garden, where was
another grott of more neate and costly materials, full
of noble statues, and entertaining us with artificial musiq ;
but the hedge of water, in form of lattice-worke, which
the fontanier caused to ascend out of the earth by
degrees, exceedinly pleased and surpris'd me.
JOHN EVELYN, Diary (Oct. 8, 1641)
(b) Cardinal Richelieu's Villa at Ruell
We then saw a large and very rare grotto of shell-worke,
in the shape of satyres and other wild fancys : in the middle
271
stands a marble table, on which a fountaine playes in
divers formes of glasses, cupps, crosses, fanns, crownes,
etc. Thene the fountainiere represented a showre of rayne
from the topp, mett by small jetts from below. At going
out, two extravagant musqueteeres shot us with a streme
of water from their musket barrells. Before this grotto is
a long poole into which ran divers spouts of water from
leaden escalop basins. The viewing this paradise made
us late at St Germains.
Ibid. (Feb. 27, 1644)
(c) St Germains
Subterranean grotts and rocks, where are represented sev-
erall objects in the manner of sceanes and other motions,
by force of water, shewn by the light of torches onely;
amongst these is Orpheus with his musiq; and the ani-
malls, which dance after his harp ; in the second is the
King and Dolphin ; in the third, is Neptune sounding his
trumpet, his charriot drawne by sea-horses ; in the fourth,
the story of Perseus and Andromeda ; mills, hermitages ;
men fishing ; birds chirping ; and many other devices.
There is also a dry grott to refresh in ; all having a fine
prospect towards the river, and the goodly country about
it, especially the forrest.
Ibid. (Feb. 27, 1644)
(d) Villa Borghese
The grotto is very rare, and represents, among other
devices, artificial raine, and sundry shapes of vessells,
flowers, etc., which is effected by changing the heads of
the fountains. Ibid. (Nov. 17, 1644)
272
(e) Logo d'Agnano
We tried the old experiment on a dog in the Grotto del
Cane, or Charon's Cave. Whatever having life enters it,
presently expires. Of this we made trial with two doggs,
one of which we bound to a short pole to guide him the
more directly into the further part of the den, where he
was no sooner enter'd but, without the least noyse, or so
much as a struggle ... we drew him out dead to all
appearance ; but immediately plunging him into the
adjoining lake, within lesse than halfe an hour he
recover'd, and swimming to shore, ran away from us. We
tried the same on another dogg, without the application
of the water, and left him quite dead. The experiment has
been made on men, as on that poore creature whom Peter
of Toledo caus'd to go in ; likewise on some Turkish
slaves ; two souldiers, and other foolehardy persons, who
all perished, and could never be recover'd by the water of
the lake, as are doggs ; for which many learned reasons
have been offer'd.
Ibid. (Feb. 8, 1645)
(/) Grand Duke's Villa, Pratolino
In another grotto is Vulcan and his family, the walls rich-
ly composed of coralls, shells, copper, and marble figures,
with the hunting of severall beasts, moving by the force
of water. Here, having been well wash'd for our curiosity,
we went down a large walk.
Ibid. (May 1645)
273
THOMAS BUSHELL'S GROTTO
He maried . . . and lived at Enston, Oxon ; where having
some land lyeing on the hanging of a hill faceing the south,
at the foot whereof runnes a fine cleare streame which
petrifies, and where is a pleasant solitude, he spake to his
servant Jack Sydenham to gett a labourer to cleare some
boscage which grew on the side of the hill, and also to dig
a cavity in the hill to sitt, and read or contemplate. . . .
Here in fine weather he would walke all night. . . .
He did not encumber him selfe with his wife, but here
enjoyed himselfe thus in this paradise till the war broke
out. . . .
Memorandum : — the grotto below lookes just south ; so
that when it artificially raineth, upon the turning of a cock,
you are enterteined with a rainebow. In a very little pond
(no bigger than a basin) opposite to the rock, and hard
by, stood (1643, Aug. 8) a Neptune, neatly cutt in wood,
holding his trident in his hand, and ayming with it at a
duck which perpetually turned round with him, and a
spaniel swimming after her — which was very pretty.
JOHN AUBREY
Brief Lives : Thomas Bushell (1680)
GROTTO OF NAIADS
The Grot he enter'd, Pumice built the Hall,
And Tophi made the Rustick of the Wall ;
The Floor, soft Moss, an humid Carpet spread,
And various shells the chequer'd Roof inlaid.
274
'Twas now the Hour when the declining Sun
Two Thirds had of his daily Journey run ;
At the spread Table Theseus took his Place,
Next his Companions in the daring Chace ; . . . .
The Nymphs were Waiters, and with naked Feet
In order serv'd the Courses of the Meat.
The Banquet done, delicious Wine they brought,
Of one transparent Gem the Cup was wrought.
OVID
Metamorphoses (c. 5 B.C.)
Trans. Mr. Vernon (1713)
At the head of the port there is a large-leafed olive ; and
near it a delightful cave, shaded, sacred to the Nymphs,
who are called Naiads. And there are stone cups and
casks in it ; and there then the bees stow away their
honey. And in it there are stone distaffs of a great length,
and there the Nymphs weave their sea-purple robes, a
marvel to behold. And in it there are perpetual flowing
waters ; and it has two doors : these to the North to be
descended by men, but those on the other hand, to the
South, are more sacred ; nor do men enter at all by that
way ; but it is the way of the immortals.
HOMER
Odyssey 9 Book XIII
Trans. T. A. Buckley (1860)
275
HANDICRAFTS
GRINDING, SPINNING, AND WEAVING
To encounter feast with houswifry,
In one roome fiftie women did apply
Their several! tasks. Some, apple-colourd corne
Ground in faire quernes, and some did spindles
turne,
Some worke in loomes ; no hand, least rest receives ;
But all had motion, apt as Aspen leaves,
And from the weeds they wove, (so fast they laid,
And so thicke thrust together, thred by thred)
That th'oile (of which the wooll had drunke his fill)
Did with his moisture, in light dewes distill.
As much as the Phaeacian men exceld
All other countrimen, in art to build
A swift-saild ship ; so much the women there,
For worke of webs, past other women were.
Past meane, by Pallas meanes, they understood
The grace of good works ; and had wits as good.
HOMER
Odyssey. Book VII
Trans. George Chapman (1614)
276
MAKING DRESDEN CHINA OF LEATHER
I know no happier-looking woman of the tranquilly happy
sort than Mrs. J. since she took to making Dresden china
of leather for the Roman Catholic bazaars.
JANE WELSH
Letter to William Dods (Unpublished. No date)
HANDSOME PERSONS
WHAT HUMAN BEAUTY Is
Touching corporall beautie, before I goe any further, it
were necessarie I knew whether we are yet agreed about
her description. It is very likely that we know not well,
what beautie either in nature or in generall is, since we give
so many, and attribute so diverse formes to humane
beautie. ... Of which if there were any naturall or lively
description, we should generally know it, as we doe the
heat of fire. We imagine and faine her formes, as our
fantaisies lead us. ... The Indians describe it blacke and
swarthy, with blabbered-thick lips, with a broad and flat
nose, the inward gristle whereof they loade with great
gold-rings, hanging downe to their mouth, and their
neather lips with great circlets beset with precious stones,
which cover all their chins, deeming it an especiall grace to
shew their teeth to the roots. In Peru> the greatest eares
277
ar ever esteemed the fairest. . . . There are other Nations
who endevour to make there teeth as blacke as Jeat, and
skorne to have them white, and in other places they die
them red. Not onely in the province ofBaske, but in other
places, women are accounted fairest when their heads
are shaven ; and which is strange, in some of the Northerly
frozen-countries, as Plinie affirmeth. Those of Mexico,
esteeme the littlenesse of their foreheads, as one of the
chiefest beauties. . . . Amongst us, one would have her
white, another browne, one soft and delicate, another
strong and lustie : some desire wantonnesse and blithnesse,
and othersome sturdinesse and majestic to be joyned with
it. Even as the preheminence in beautie, which Plato
ascribeth unto the sphericall figure, the Epicurians refer
the same into the Piramidall or Squat. . . . We are excelled
in comelinesse by many living creatures. . . . Concerning
those of the Sea . . . both in colour, in neatnesse, in
smoothnesse, and in disposition, we must give place unto
them : which in all qualities we must likewise do to the
ayrie ones. MICHEL DE MONTAIGNE
Essays (1580). Trans. John Florio (1603)
LA BEL PUCEL
And first of all, my hart gan to learne
Right well to regester, in remembraunce
Howe that her beauty I might then discerne
From toppe to tooe, endued with pleasaunce,
Whiche I shall shewe, withouten variaunce.
Her shining heere so properly she dresses
Aloft her foreheade, with fayre golden tresses.
278
Her forheade stepe, with fayre browes ybent,
Her eyen gray, her nose straight and fayre.
In her white cheekes the faire bloude it went
As among the wite, the redde to repayre.
Her mouthe right small, her breathe swete of ay re,
Her lippes soft, and ruddy as a rose.
No hart on live, but it would him appose.
With a little pitte in her well favoured chynne,
Her neck long, as white as any lilly,
With vaynes blewe, in which the bloude ranne in,
Her pappes rounde, and therto right prettye,
Her armes slender, and of goodly bodye,
Her fingers small and therto right long,
White as the milke with blewe vaynes among.
Her fete proper, she gartred well her hose.
I never saw so fayre a creature.
Nothing she lacketh, as I do suppose,
That is longyng to faire dame Nature.
Yet more over, her countenaunce so pure
So swete, so lovely, would any hart enspire
With fervent love, to attayne his desire.
STEPHEN HAWES
The Passetyme of Pleasure (1509)
SHE SMILED LIKE A HOLIDAY
Sweet she was, as kind a love
As ever fetter'd swayne ;
Never such a daynty one
Shall man enjoy again
279
Sett a thousand on a rowe
I forbid that any showe
Ever the like of her
Hey nonny nonny noe.
Face she had of filberd hue.
And bosm'd like a swan ;
Back she had of bended ewe.
And wasted by a span.
Haire she had as black as crowe
From the head unto the toe,
Downe, downe, all over her
Hye nonny nonny noe.
She smiled like a Holy-day
And simpred like the Spring,
She pranck't it like a popingaie
And like a swallow sing,
She trip't it like a barren doe,
She strutted like a gor-crowe,
Which made the men so fond of her
Hye nonny nonny noe.
ANON (c. 1640)
SIR PHILIP SIDNEY
When he descended downe the mount,
His personage seemed most divine,
A thousand graces one might count,
Upon his lovely cheereful eine,
To heare him speake and sweetely smile,
You were in Paradise the while.
280
A sweete attractive kinde of grace,
A full assurance given by lookes,
Continuall comfort in a face,
The lineaments of Gospell books,
I trowe that countenaunce cannot lie,
Whose thoughts are legible in the eie
Was never eie, did see that face,
Was never eare, did heare that tong,
Was never minde, did minde his grace,
That ever thought the travell long,
But eies, and eares, and every thought
Were with his sweete perfections caught.
MATTHEW ROYDON
An Elegie, or friends passion for his Astrophill
The Phoenix Nest (1593)
ADONIS
To see his face, the Lyon walkt along,
Behind some hedge, because he wold not fear him :
To recreate himself, when he hath song,
The Tiger would be tame, and gently heare him ;
If he had spoke, the Wolfe would leave his pray,
And never fright the silly lamb that day.
When he beheld his shadow in a brooke,
The fishes spred on it their golden gils :
When he was by, the birds such pleasure tooke,
That some would sing, some other in their bils
Would bring him mulberries, and ripe red chereries,
He fed them with his sight, they him with berries.
W. SHAKESPEARE
Venus and Adonis (1593. Edition 1607)
281
SIR WALTER RALEIGH
He was a tall, handsome, and bold man. . . . His beard
turned up naturally. ... He had a most remarkeable
aspect, an exceeding high forehead, long-faced, and sour
eie-lidded, a kind of pigge-eie.
JOHN AUBREY, Brief Live s (c. 1680)
RICHARD LOVELACE
Richard Lovelace, esq : he was a most beautifull gentle-
man* Geminum, seu lumina, sydus,
Et dignos Baccho digitos, et Apolline crines,
Impubesque genas, et eburnea colla, decusque
Oris, et in niveo mustum candore ruborem.
Obiit in a cellar in Long Acre, a little before the
restauration of his majestie. . . . One of the handsomest
men of England. Ibid.
VENETIA DIGBY
She was a most beautiful desireable creature ; . . . She
had a most lovely and sweet-turn'd face, delicate darke-
browne haire. She had a perfect healthy constitution ;
strong ; good skin ; well-proportioned ; much enclining to
a Bona Roba. . . Her face, a short oval ; darke-browne
eie-browe, about which much sweetness, as also in the
opening of her eie-lidds. The colour of her cheekes
was just that of the damaske rose, which is neither
too hott nor too pale. She was of a just stature, not very
tall. Ibid.
282
COMMONLY A FOOL
If she be faire, as the saying is, she is commonly a foole.
ROBERT BURTON
The Anatomy of Melancholy (1621. Edition 1632)
OUT-FLOURISHING MAY
I Beheld her on a Day,
When her looke out-flourisht May ;
And her dressing did out-brave
All the Pride, the fields than have
BEN JONSON
A Celebration of Chans : How he saw her (published 1640)
LOVE'S STAR WHEN IT RISETH
See the Chariot at hand here of love
Wherein my Lady rideth !
Each that drawes is a Swan, or a Dove
And well the Carre Love guideth
As she goes, all hearts doe duty
Unto her beauty ;
And enamour'd, doe wish, so they might
But enjoy such a sight,
That they still were, to run by her side,
Through Swords, through Seas, whether she
would ride.
Doe but looke, on her eyes ! They doe light
All that Loves World compriseth !
Doe but looke on her Haire, it is bright
As Loves starre, when it riseth !
283
Doe but marke her forhead's smoother
Then words that soothe her !
And from her arched browes, such a grace
Sheds it selfe through the face,
As alone there triumphs to the life
All the Gaine, all the Good, of the Elements
strife.
Have you scene but a bright Lillie grow.
Before rude hands have touch'd it ?
Ha'you mark'd but the fall o'the Snow
Before the soyle hath smutch'd it ?
Ha'you felt the wooll of Bever ?
Or Swans Downe ever ?
Or have smelt o'the bud o'the Brier ?
Or tasted the Nard in the fire ?
Or have tasted the bag of the Bee ?
O so white ! O so soft ! O so sweet is she !
Ibid. Her Triumph
WENCHES WITH GREAT EYES
Because great eyes in Turkey are esteemed an excellencie,
therefore Mahomet, well knowing their desire, promiseth
them in his Paradise, wenches with great eyes like saucers.
JOHN BULWER
Anthropometamorphosis, or The Artificial Changeling
(1650)
NECESSITY OF A NOSE
That face must needs be plain that wants a nose. Ibid.
284
A Man shall see Faces, that if you examine them Part
by Part, you shall finde never a good ; And yet all together
doe well.
FRANCIS BACON
Essay es : Of Beauty (1625)
JANE WELSH
As a child she was remarkable for her large black eyes
with their long curved lashes. As a girl, she was extremely
pretty — a graceful and beautifully formed figure, upright
and supple, a delicate complexion of creamy white with a
pale rose tint in the cheeks, lovely eyes full of fire and soft-
ness, and with great depths of meaning. Her head was
finely formed, with a noble arch and a broad forehead.
Her other features were not regular ; but they did not
prevent her conveying all the impression of being beauti-
ful. ... She danced with much grace.
GERALDINE JEWSBURY
In Memoriam Jane Welsh Carlyle (1866)
AN EVANESCENT CHILD
My first dash into poetry was as early as 1800. It was the
ebullition of a passion for my first Cousin Margaret
Parker . . . one of the most beautiful of evanescent be-
ings. . . . Her dark eyes ! her long eye-lashes ! her com-
pletely Greek cast of face and figure ! I was then about
twelve — She rather older, perhaps a year. ... I do
285
not recollect scarcely anything equal to the transparent
beauty of my cousin. . . . She looked as if she had been
made out of a rainbow — all beauty and peace.
LORD BYRON
Detached Thoughts (1821-2)
LORD BYRON
In external appearance Byron realised that ideal standard
with which imagination adorns genius. He was in the
prime of life, thirty-five ; of middle height, five feet eight
and a half inches ; regular features, without a stain or fur-
row on his pallid skin, his shoulders broad, chest open,
body and limbs finely proportioned. His small, highly
finished head and curly hair had an airy and graceful
appearance from the massiveness and length of his throat ;
you saw his genius in his eyes and lips. In short, Nature
could do little more than she had done for him. . . . There
was no peculiarity in his dress, it was adapted to the climate ;
a tartan jacket braided — he said it was the Gordon pat-
tern, and that his mother was of that ilk. A blue velvet
cap with a gold band, and very loose nankeen trousers,
strapped down so as to cover his feet : his throat was not
bare, as represented in drawings.
E. J. TRELAWNEY
Recollections of the Last Days of Shelley and Byron (1858)
His appearance at that time was the finest I ever saw it,
a great deal finer than it was afterwards, when he was
abroad. He was fatter than before his marriage, but only
286
just enough so to complete the manliness of his person ;
and the turn of his head and countenance had a spirit and
leevation in it, which though not unmixed with disquiet,
gave him altogether a nobler look than I ever knew him to
have, before or since. His dress, which was black, with
white trowsers, and which he wore buttoned close over the
body, completed the succinctness and gentlemanliness OA
his appearance.
LEIGH HUNT
Lord Byron and some of his Contemporaries (1828)
THE HANDSOME COLONEL
He was of a middle stature, of a slender and exactly
well-proportion'd shape in all parts, his complexion faire,
his hayre of light browne, very thick sett in his youth,
softer than the finest silke, and curling into loose greate
rings att the ends ; his eies of a lively grey, well-shaped
and full of life and vigour, graced with many becoming
motions ; his visage thinne, his mouth well made, and his
lipps very ruddy and gracefull, allthough the nether chap
shut over the upper, yett it was in such a manner as was
not unbecoming ; his teeth were even and white as the
purest ivory, his chin was something long, and the mold
of his face, his forehead was not very high ; his nose was
rays'd and sharp, but withall he had a most amiable
countenance, which carried in it something of magnani-
mity and majesty mixt with sweetenesse, that at the same
time bespoke love and awe in all that saw him ; his skin
was smooth and white, his legs and feete excellently well-
made, he was quick in his pace and turnes, nimble and
287
active and gracefull in all his motions, he was apt for any
bodily exercise, and any that he did became him ; ... he
was wonderful neate, cleanly, and gentile in his habitt,
and had a very good fancy in it, but he left off very early
the wearing of aniething that was costly, yett in his plainest
negligent habitt appear'd very much a gentleman.
LUCY HUTCHINSON
To her Children concerning their Father (c. 1665)
CHINESE BEAUTIES
Europeans have a quite different idea of beauty from us.
When I reflect on the small-footed perfections of an
Eastern beauty, how is it possible I should have eyes for
a woman whose feet are ten inches long ? I shall never
forget the beauties of my native city of Nanfew. How
very broad their faces ! how very short their noses !
how very little their eyes ! how very thin their lips ! how
very black their teeth ! the snow on the tops of Bao is not
fairer than their cheeks ; and their eyebrows as small as the
line by the pencil of Quamsi. Here a lady with such per-
fections would be frightful; Dutch and Chinese beauties,
indeed, have some resemblance, but English women are
entirely different; red cheeks, big eyes, and teeth of a most
odious whiteness, are not only seen here, but wished for ;
and then they have such masculine feet, as actually serve
some for walking !
OLIVER GOLDSMITH
Letters from a Citizen of the World to his Friends in the
East (1762)
288
NOTHING LIKE IT
This amazing, confounding, admirable, amiable Beauty,
than which in all Natures treasure, (saith Isocrates), there
is nothing so majesticall and sacred, nothing so divine, lovely,
pretious, 'tis natures Crown, gold and glory ; . . . speak Alci-
baides, though drunk, we will willingly hear thee as thou
art. Faults in such are no faults. For when the said
Alcibiades had stoln Anytus his gold and silver plate, he
was so far from prosecuting so foul a fact (though every
man else condemned his imprudence and insolvency)
that he wished it had been more, and much better (he
loved him dearly) for his sweet sake. No worth is eminent
in such lovely persons, all imperfection hid ; ... for hearing,
sight, touch, etc., our mind and all our senses are capti-
vated. . . . O vis superba formae, a Goddess beauty is,
whom the very Gods adore, . . . she is Amoris domina,
loves harbinger, loves loadstone, a witch, a charm, etc.
Beauty is a dowre of it self, a sufficient patrimony, an
ample commendation, an accurate epistle. Beauty deserves
a Kingdome, and more have got this honour and eternity for
their beauty than for all other vertues besides : and such as
are fair are worthy to be honoured of God and men. That
Idalian Ganymedes was therefore fetched by Jupiter into
Heaven, Hephestion dear to Alexander, Antinous to Adrian.
Plato calls beauty, for that cause, natures master-piece.
. . . They will adore, cringe, complement, and bow to a
common wench (if she be fair) as if she were a noble
woman, a Countess, a Queen, or a goddess. Those
intemperate young men of Greece erected at Delphi a
golden Image, with infinite cost, to the eternal memory of
Phryne the curtizan, as JElian relates, for she was a most
beautiful woman. Thus yong men will adore and honour
KP 289
beauty ; nay Kings themselves I say will . . . voluntarily
submit their soveraignty to a lovely woman. . . . When
they have got gold and silver, they submit all to a beautiful
woman, give themselves wholly to Her, gape and gaze on her,
and all men desire her more than gold or silver, or any
pretious thing : they will leave father and mother, and
venture their lives for her. . . . When as Troy was taken, and
the wars ended . . . angry Menelaus, with rage and fury
armed, came with his sword drawn to have killed Helena
with his own hands, as being the sole cause of all those
wars and miseries : but when he saw her fair face, as one
amazed at her divine beauty, he let his weapon fall, and
embraced her besides, he had no power to strike so sweet
a creature. . . . Hiperides the orator, when Phryne his
client was accused at Athens for her lewdness, used no
other defence in her cause, but tearing her upper
garment, disclosed her naked breast to the Judges, with
which comeliness of her body, and amiable gesture, they
were so moved and astonished, that they did acquit her
forthwith, and let her go. O noble piece of Justice, mine
author exclaims, and who is he that would not rather
lose his seat and robes, forfeit his office, than give sentence
against the majesty of beauty ? Such prerogatives have
fair persons, and they alone are free from danger. Parth-
enopaeus was so lively and fair, that when he fought in the
Theban wars, if his face had been by chance bare, no
enemy would offer to strike at, or hurt him. Such im-
munities hath beauty ; beasts themselves are moved with
it. Sinalda was a woman of such excellent feature, and a
Queen, that when she was to be trodden on by wild
horses for a punishment, the wild beasts stood in admiration
of her person . . . and would not hurt her. ... I could tell
you such another story of a spindle that was fired by a
290
fair ladies looks, or fingers, some say, I know not well
whether, but fired it was by report, and of a cold bath
that suddenly smoaked, and was very hot, when naked
Caelia came into it ... men are mad, stupifyed many
times at the first sight of beauty, amazed, as that fisher-
man in Aristaenetus, that espied a maid bathing herself
by the Sea side. . . . Charmides in Plato was a proper young
man, . . . whensoever fair Charmides came abroad, they
seem'd all to be in love with him. . . . the Athenian Lasses
stared on Alcibiades ; Sapho and the Mitilean women on
Phaon the fair. Such lovely sights do not onely please,
entise, but ravish and amaze. Cleonimus, a delicate and
tender youth, present at a feast which Androcles his uncle
made in Piraeos at Athens, when he sacrificed to Mercury,
so stupified the guests, . . . that they could not eat their
meat, they sate all supper time gazing, glancing at him,
stealing looks, and admiring of his beauty. Many will
condemn these men that are so enamoured, for fools ;
but some again commend them for it. ... Beauty is
to be preferred. . . . Great Alexander married Roxane, a
poor mans child, onely for her person. 'Twas well done
of Alexander, and heroically done, I admire him for it.
ROBERT BURTON
Anatomy of Melancholy (1621. Edition 1652)
HELEN'S FRIENDS SING
In Sparta, long agoe, where Menelaus wore the crowne,
Twelve noble Virgins, daughters to the greatest in the
towne . . .
Danst at the chamber doore of Helena the Queene,
What time this Menelay, the younger son of Atreus,
291
Did marry with this lovely daughter of Prince Tyndarus ;
And therwithal, at eve, a wedding song they jointly sung.
With such a shuffling of their feete that all the palace rung.
Fair Bridegroome do you sleep ? Hath slumber all your
lims possesst.
What, are you drousie, or hath wine your bodie so oppresst
That you are gone to bed ? For if you needes would take
your rest,
You should have tane a season meete. Mean time, till it
be daie,
Suffer the Bride with us, and with her mother deere to
plaie. . . .
For we, her peers in age, whose course of life is evne the
same,
Who at Eurotas streames like men are oiled to the game :
And foure times sixtie maides, of all the weemen youth
we are ;
Of these none wants a fault, if her with Hellen we compare,
Like as the rising Morning shewes a gratefull lightening,
When sacred night is past, and winter nowe lets loose the
spring,
So glittering Hellen shinde among the maides, lustie and tal,
As is the furrowe in a field that far outstretcheth al ;
Or in a garden is a Cypres tree ; or in a trace
A steede of Thessalie ; so shee to Sparta was a grace. . . .
O faire, O lovely Maide, a matrone now is made of thee !
But wee wil everie spring, unto the leaves in meadowes goe
To gather Garlands sweete, and there, not with a little
woe,
Will often think of thee. . . . ANON
Sixe Idillia from Theocritus translated into English
verse (1588)
292
HAPPY DEATHS
OF LAUGHTER
Philemon, a Comick Poet, died with extreme laughter at
the conceit of seeing an asse eate figs. THOMAS NASHE
The Unfortunate Traveller (1594)
OF A GRAPE-STONE
The manner of his [Anacreon's] death is said to have been
very extraordinary, for they tell us he was choaked with
a grape-stone, which he swallowed as he was regaling on
some new wine. Mr Cowley, who has so happily imitated
the style and manner of Anacreon, has honoured him
with an elegy in his own strain, which concludes in this
manner :
It grieves me when I see what Fate
Does on the best of Mankind wait.
Poets or Lovers let them be,
'Tis neither Love nor Poesie
Can arm against Deaths smallest dart
The Poets Head, or Lovers Heart.
293
But when their Life in its decline.
Touches th' Inevitable Line,
All the Worlds Mortal to 'em then,
And Wine is Aconite to men.
Nay in DeatJis Hand the Grape-stone proves
As strong as Thunder is injoves.
WILLIAM OWEN AND WILLIAM JOHNSTON
Biographical Dictionary (1755)
OF MILK
Or, as Fabius a Senator of Rome, and Lord chiefe Justice
besides, who in a draught of milk fortuned to swallow a
small haire, which strangled him.
PLINY, Natural History (c. 77)
Trans. Philemon Holland (1601)
A DAINTY DEATH
Heliogabalus, the most dissolute man of the world,
amidst his riotous sensualities, intended, whensoever
occasion should force him to it, to have a daintie death.
Which, that it might not degenerate from the rest of his
life, he had purposely caused a stately towre to be built,
the nether part and fore-court whereof was floored with
boardes richly set and enchased with gold and precious
stones, from-off which he might headlong thro we himselfe
downe : He had also caused cordes to be made of gold
and crimson silke there with to strangle himselfe: and a rich
294
golden rapier, to thrust himselfe through : and kept poison
in boxes of Emeraldes and Topases, to poison himselfe
with, according to the humor he might have, to chuse
which of these deaths should please him.
MICHEL DE MONTAIGNE
Essays : Of judging of others death (1580)
Trans. John Florio (1603)
A HlPERBOREAN NATION
Plirtie reporteth of a certaine Hiperborean nation, wherin,
by reason of the mild temperature of the aire, the inhabi-
tants thereof commonly never dye, but when they please
to make themselves away, and that being weary and tired
with living, they are accustomed at the end of a long-long
age, having first made merry and good cheare with their
friends, from the top of a high-steepy rocke, appointed
for that purpose, to cast themselves headlong into the
sea- MICHEL DE MONTAIGNE
Essays : A Custom of the Isle of Cea (1580)
Trans. John Florio (1603)
AN ASTRONOMER
Caius Gallus ... in a good old Age, as he was sitting in
his Study, with his Head and his Hands full of his Astron-
omy > went away as peaceably as an Infant ; and as it
happened, while I was in the Room with him.
CICERO, De Senectute (45 B.C.)
Trans. Samuel Parker (1704)
295
SLIDING INTO PORT
For either Death puts the Soul out of being, and there's
an end of the matter; or else it translates it to a State of in-
defeasible Security, and then we cannot wish for a happier
Change. . . . Can any Thing be more natural than for a
Man to die in his Old Age ? ... An Old Man's Trunk
wastes kindly, takes its own Time, and glimmers off into
Ashes. So agen, 'tis harsh and violent to pluck an Apple
from the Tree before 'tis ripe ; let it hang till the Sun has
fully completed its Maturation, and then 'twil soon fall of
its own Accord. ... As I advance nearer and nearer to the
finishing Crisis, I look upon myself as making to Shore,
and upon the Point of sliding into Harbour after a tedious
Voyage. . . . How fortunate is the Man that retains all the
Powers of his Soul and the Use of his Senses unimpair'd
till Nature's full Time is up, and she comes to take her
own Work to Pieces in her own Way. . . . 'Twas Solon's
Ambition and a celebrated Wish of his, That whenever he
dy'd, his Friends would take it to Heart, and put on a Pomp
of Sorrow for him ; . . . I declare for Ennius against him,
Nemo me lacrymis, etc.
Kind Heaven ! Whene're it comes to be my Turn,
Avert wry Funeral Faces from my Urn.
3Tis very unaccountable (thought he) that People should
make such a Rout about dying, when 'tis the ready Road
to a State of Immortality. As for Agonies and Convulsions
in the Article of expiring, they are over in a trice. . . . And
then comes on either a final Cessation of all Perceptions,
or else the most refin'd or improv'd ones. . . . Besides, as
296
far as I can find by myself, a Man may be cloy'd and
surfeited with one Thing after another in this World ; till
it conies to that pass with him that Life its self shall lie
upon his Hands. . . . Living becomes perfectly fulsome,
and we grow impatient to receive our Discharge.
And this is not all neither. For I must be so free with
my Friends (and I hope no Offence) as to discover the
secret and serious Persuasion of my Soul to them, with
regard to the State of the Dead : ... At present we are all
close Prisoners, immured with Flesh and Bones, and ty'd
to the Toil and Tendence of a miserable but indispensable
Servitude ; the Soul being of a Divine or Celestial Nature
. . . plunged into a Tenement of Dirt, a Situation and Resi-
dence disagreeable enough to a Being of an Immortal and
Heavenly kind. ... I have held out the Race, and I don't
desire to be brought agen to the Starting-Post ; and if
Heaven should graciously make me this overture, If you
have a Mind to't, you shall be remanded to a State of Infancy
and go to Nurse again, I should humbly and earnestly
pray to be excused. . . . My Foot is already in the Stirrup ;
and I leave this World, not as a Man would leave his
Mansion-House, but his Inn. How long art thou coming,
Auspicious Hour ! When Fm to be releas'd out of these
Territories of Dirt and Distraction, and incorporated into
the sacred Society of the great Souls above. . . . Perhaps I
may be too confident and overweaned in the Point of the
Soul's Immortality ; if so, 'tis at least a very obliging
Error, and I am so heartily in love with it, that I would
not be disabus'd, methinks, for the World. >
Ibid.
297
TRANSPORT AND ARDOUR
Let it be remember'd only . . . how often our own Legions
have thrown themselves with an incredible Transport and
Ardour upon such hot and desperate Services, that they
could not suppose a single Man of them should come off
again alive : Not to look up so high as our Heros of the
first Order ; Lucius Brutus that dropt in the Prosecution
of his Country's Deliverance ; the Decii that gallop'd full
speed to a Death that they might have avoided ; Marcus
AttiliuS) that rather than he would not be true to Articles,
re-committed himself to the Malice and Indignation of
the Enemy ; the two Scipios, that planted themselves as a
Breast- Work, against the Impressions of the whole Car-
thaginian Army, either to make an effectual Stand, or be
cut in Pieces, in the Cause of the Commonwealth. . . .
Marcus Marcellus, the noble circumstances of whose
Death had such an Effect upon the savage Carthaginians
themselves that they took Care he should be handsomely
interr'd.
Ibid.
AN EARNEST PURSUIT
He that dies in an earnest Pursuit, is like one that is
wounded in hot Bloud ; who, for the time, scarce feeles
the Hurt ; And therefore, a Minde fixt, and bent upon
somewhat that is good, doth avert the Dolors of Death ;
But, above all, beleeve it, the sweetest Canticle, is Nunc
dimittis ; when a Man hath obtained worthy Ends, and
Expectations. Death hath this also ; That it openeth the
298
Gate to good Fame, and extinguished! Envye — Extinctus
amdbitur idem.
FRANCIS BACON, Essayes : Of Death (1625)
DYING IN AN INN
He [Archbishop Leighton] used often to say, that if he
were to choose a Place to die in, it should be an Inn ; it
look'd like a Pilgrim's going Home. . . . He added, that
the officious Tenderness, and care of Friends, was an
Entanglement to a dying man, and that the unconcern'd
Attendance of those that could be procur'd in such a place,
would give less disturbance : and he obtain'd what he
desir'd ; for he died at the Bell Inn, in Warwick Lane.
GILBERT BURNET
History of his own Time (Pub. 1723-34)
A MERRY SYMPOSIAQUE
He was a very handsome man, a gracefull speaker,
facetious, and well-beloved. I thinke he dyed of a merry
symposiaque. JOHN AUBREY
Brief Lives : Richard Martin (c. 1680)
DEATHBED OF A HEROINE
You may be glad to know the particulars of her happy
exit. . . .
I approached the bed. ..." Oh ! Mr Bedford," said
299
she, in broken periods ..." A few — a very few moments
— will end this strife — And I shall be happy ! Comfort
here, Sir " — turning her head to the Colonel — Comfort
my cousin — See ! — the blameable kindness — He would
not wish me to be happy — so soon \ "
. . Then, resuming, ... u I am all blessed hope — Hope
itself."
She looked what she said, a sweet smile beaming over
her countenance.
After a short silence, " Once more, my dear cousin,"
said she ..." commend me most dutifully to my Father
and Mother " — There she stopt. And then proceeding —
" To my Sister, To my Brother, To my Uncles — And tell
them, I bless them with my parting breath — for all their
goodness to me — Even for their displeasure, I bless them
— Most happy has been to me my punishment here ! —
Happy indeed ! "
. . . Then, " O death ! " said she, " where is thy sting! "
(The words I remember to have heard in the Burial-
service read over my Uncle and poor Belton.) And after
a pause, " It is good for me that I was afflicted ! " — Words
of Scripture, I suppose.
Then, turning towards us, who were lost in speechless
sorrow — " O dear, dear gentlemen," said she, " you know
not what foretastes, what assurances" And there she again
stopt, and looked up, as if in a thankful rapture, sweetly
smiling.
Then turning her head towards me — " Do you, Sir,
tell your friend, that I forgive him ! And I pray to God to
forgive him ! " Again pausing, and lifting up her eyes, as
if praying that He would — " Let him know how happily
I die. — And that such as my own, I wish to be his last
hour. . . .
300
My sight fails me ! Your voices only " — (for we both
applauded her Christian, her divine frame, tho' in accents
as broken as her own) ..." Is not this Mr Morden's
hand ? " pressing one of his ..." Which is Mr Bed-
ford's ?"...! gave her mine. " God Almighty bless you
both/' said she, " and make you both — in your last hour
— for you must come to this — happy as I am." . . .
She paused again, her breath growing shorter ; and
after a few minutes ..." And tell my dear Miss Howe —
and vouchsafe to see, and to tell my worthy Mrs Norton
— She will be one day, I fear not, tho' now lowly in her
fortunes, a Saint in Heaven — Tell them both, that I
remember them with thankful blessings in my last
moments ! " . . .
Her sweet voice and broken periods methinks fill my
ears, and never will be out of my memory.
After a short silence ..." And you, Mr Bedford, press-
ing my hand, may God preserve you, and make you
sensible of all your errors — You see, in me, how All ends
— May you be " And down sunk her head upon her
pillow, she fainting away. . . .
We thought she was then gone ; and each gave way to
a violent burst of grief.
But soon showing signs of returning life, our attention
was again engaged ; and I besought her, when a little
recovered, to complete in my favour her half-pronounced
blessing. She waved her hand to us both, and bowed her
head six several times, as we have since recollected, as if
distinguishing every person present ; not forgetting the
nurse and the maid-servant . . . and she spoke falteringly
and inwardly, — " Bless — bless — bless — you All — And now
— And now " (holding up her almost lifeless hands for
the last time) " Come — O come — Blessed Lord — JESUS ! "
301
And with these words, the last but half-pronounced,
expired : Such a smile, such a charming serenity over-
spreading her sweet face at the instant as seemed to
manifest her eternal happiness already begun.
O Lovelace ! — But I can write no more !
SAMUEL RICHARDSON
Clarissa. (Letter from Mr Bedford to Robert
Lovelace Esq.) (1749)
PROOFS
He [Bayle] died as he had lived, in the same uninterrupted
habits of composition; for with his dying hand, and nearly
speechless, he sent a fresh proof to the printer.
ISAAC DISRAELI
Curiosities of Literature (1791-1823)
RISING TO THE OCCASION
He [Sir Richard Grenville] was borne into the ship called
the Saint Paule, wherin was the Admirall of the fleet,
Don Alonso de Barsan. There his woundes were drest by
the Spanish surgeons ; . . . the Captaines and Gentlemen
went to visite him . . . wondering 'at his courage and stout
heart, for that he shewed not any signe of faintness,
nor changing of colour : but feeling the hower of death to
approach, hee spake these wordes in Spanish, and said,
Here die I, Richard Greenfield, with a joyfull and quiet
mind, for I have ended my life as a true soldier ought to
302
do, that hath fought for his countrey, Queene, religion,
and honour : whereby my soule most joyfull departheth
out of this bodie, and shall leave alwaies behind it an
everlasting fame of a valiant and true soldier, that hath
done his dutie, as he was bound to doe.
When hee had finished these, or such other like wordes,
he gave up the ghost, with great and stout courage ; and
no man could perceive any true signe of heavinesse in him.
J. H. VAN LINSCHOTEN
Discourse of Voyages to East and West Indies
Trans, from Dutch (1598)
THE ENEMY RUN
When no longer able to stand, his [Wolfe's] only concern
was lest the men should be disheartened by his fall
" Support me," he whispered to an officer near him ;
" let not my brave soldiers see me drop. The day is
ours — keep it." . . .
The cry was heard, " They run — they run ! " Like
one suddenly aroused from heavy sleep, Wolfe demanded,
with great earnestness, " Who run ? " " The enemy,
Sir ... they give way everywhere." Thereupon the
expiring hero . . . rejoined, " Go, one of you ... to Colonel
Burton : tell him to march Webb's regiment with all
speed down to Charles river, and cut off the retreat." . . .
He then turned upon his side, and his last words were,
" Now God be praised ; I die in peace ! "
CAPTAIN KNOX, Journal of Campaigns (1769)
[But the surgeon present reported his dying words to be cc Lay
me down, I am suffocating." One can take one's choice.]
303
TANT MIEUX
" Is the wound a mortal one ? " asked Montcalm.
" Yes," replied Arnoux. . . .
" I am content/' replied Montcalm ; " how much
longer have I to live ?
" Not twenty-four hours."
" So much the better," returned the dying man. " I
shall not live to see the English masters of Quebec."
ABB£ CASGRAIN, Wolfe and Montcalm (1905)
A BUTT OF MALMESEY
IST MURDERER : . . . and then throwe him into the Mal-
mesey-Butte in the next roome.
2ND MURD. : O excellent device ; and make a sop of him.
IST MURD. : Soft, he wakes. . . .
CLARENCE : Where art thou Keeper ? Give me a cup of
wine.
2ND MURD. : You shall have Wine enough my Lord anon.
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
Richard III (1597. Edition 1623 folio)
ANOTHER VERSION
Attainted was hee by parliament and judged to the death,
and thereupon hastely drouned in a Butt of Malmesey.
SIR THOMAS MORE, History of Richard HI (1513)
304
LAMPREYS
When therefore the King [Henry I] returned from hunt-
ing, at St Denis in the forest of Lyons, he ate the flesh of
lampreys, which always disagreed with him, and he al-
ways loved them. But when his doctor forbade this food,
the king did not acquiesce in this counsel of health.
HENRY OF HUNTINGDON
Historia Anglorum (1154) (Trans.)
Ranulphe says, he [Henry I] tooke a surfet by etynge
of a lamprey, and therof dyed.
ROBERT FABYAN, Concordance of Histories (1516)
[This seems an inferior version ; one would prefer to believe that
poor Henry had more than one of his favourite fish before he died.]
PEACHES AND NEW CIDER
He King John passed the next night at a convent
called Swineshead, where ... he surfeited himself with
peaches and drinking new cider. ... He rode to Newark ;
there his sickness increased, and he confessed himself and
received the sacrament from the abbot of Croxton.
ROGER OF WENDOVER, Flores Historiarum (1235)
TAKING ONE'S TIME
Petronius ... did not rashly kill himselfe, but cutting his
vaines, and binding them up, as pleased him, opened them
305
againe, and talked with his friends, though not of any seri-
ous matter, . . . nothing of the immortality of the soul, or
opinions of wise men ; but of light verses, and easie songs.
On some of his slaves he bestowed gifts, and on some
stripes. He went sometimes abroade, and gave himselfe to
sleepe, that although his death was constrained, yet it
should be like a casuall death.
TACITUS
Annales (c. 100)
Trans. Richard Grenewey (1598)
MY HAPPY TOMB
When timely death my life and fortune ends,
Let not my hearse be vext with mourning friends,
But let all lovers rich in triumph come,
And with sweet pastimes grace my happie tombe.
And, Lesbia, close up thou my little light,
And crowne with love my ever-during night.
THOMAS CAMPION
Book of Ay res ( 160 1 )
A GOOD HANGING
The parliament intended to have hanged him ; and he
expected no lesse, but resolved to be hangd with the Bible
under one arme and Magna Charta under the other.
JOHN AUBREY
Brief Lives : David Jenkins (c. 1680)
306
RISING FROM TABLE
I feele no more perturbation within mee to departe this
worlde, than I have done in my best health to aryse from
table, when I have well dyned, and thence to retire to a
pleasant walke. I have had my parte in this worlde, and
now I must give place to fresh gamesters. Farewell.
SIR ANTHONY BEND
His Will (1618)
(Pub. Thomas Hearne, Diary, 1707)
RESURRECTION
The Phoenix faire which rich Arabia breedes,
When wasting time expires hir tragedy
No more on Phoebus radiant raise she feedes,
But heapeth up great store of spicery
And on a loftie towring Cedar tree.
With heavenly substance, she hir selfe consumes.
From whence she yoong againe appeeres to bee.
Out of the Cinders of hir peerelesse plumes.
WILLIAM SMITH
Chloris (1596)
307
A HAPPY LOT
THE MOST TEMPERATE PLANET
I am sure, says the Countess, we have one great convenience
in the situation of our World ; it is not so hot as Mercury
or Venus, or so cold as Jupiter or Saturn ; and our Country
is so justly plac'd, that we have no excess either of Heat or
Cold. I have heard of a Philosopher, who gave thanks to
Nature that he was born a Man, and not a Beast, a Greek,
and not a Barbarian ; and for my part, I render thanks that
I am seated in the most temperate Planet of the Universe,
and in one of the most temperate Regions of that Planet.
You have more reason, said I, to give thanks that you are
Young, and not Old ; that you are Young and Handsome,
and not Young and Ugly; that you are Young, Handsome,
and an English Woman, and not Young, Handsome, and a
Spaniard, or an Italian ; these are other guess Subjects for
your thanks, than the Situation of your Vortex, or the
Temperature of your Countrey. Pray Sir, says she, let me
give thanks for all things, to the very Vortex in which I am
planted : Our proportion of Happiness is so very small,
that we should lose none, but improve continually what
we have, and be grateful for every thing, tho' never so
common or inconsiderable. If nothing but exquisite pleas-
ure will serve us, we must wait a long time, and be sure
to pay too dear for it at last. B. DE FONTENELLE
A Plurality of Worlds (1686). Trans. John Glanvill (1688)
308
EVERY ADVANTAGE
When I contemplate the common lot of mortality, I must
acknowledge that I have drawn a high prize in the lottery
of life. The far greater part of the globe is over-spread with
barbarism or slavery ; in the civilised world the most num-
erous class is condemned to ignorance and poverty, and
the double fortune of my birth in a free and enlightened
country, in an honourable and wealthy family, is the lucky
chance of an unit against millions. The general probability
is about three to one — that a new-born infant will not
live to compleat his fiftieth year. I have now passed that
age. . . .
I. The first indispensable requisite of happiness is a
clear conscience, unsullied by the reproach or remem-
brance of an unworthy action.
Hie murus aheneus esto
Nil conscire sibi, nulla palescere culpa.
I am endowed with a cheerful temper, a moderate sen-
sibility, and a natural disposition to repose rather than to
action : some mischievous appetites and habits have per-
haps been corrected by philosophy or time. The love of
study, a passion which derives fresh vigour from enjoy-
ment, supplies each day, each hour, with a perpetual
source of independent and rational pleasure, and I am not
sensible of any decay of the mental faculties. The original
soil has been highly improved by labour and manure ; but
it may be questioned whether some flowers of fancy, some
grateful errors, have not been eradicated with the weeds
of prejudice.
2. Since I have escaped from the long perils of my
childhood, the serious advice of a physician has seldom
309
been requisite. " The madness of superfluous health "
I have never known ; but my tender constitution has been
fortified by time. . . .
3. ... The oeconomy of my house is settled without
avarice or profusion ; at stated periods all my bills are
regularly paid, and in the course of my life I have never
been reduced to appear, either as plaintiff or defendant,
in a court of Justice.
Should I add that, since the failure of my first wishes, I
have never entertained any serious thoughts of a matri-
monial connection ?
EDWARD GIBBON, Autobiography (1789)
LITERARY BREAKFASTS
It is not possible for anything on earth to be more agree-
able to my taste than my present manner of living. I am
so much at my ease ; have a great many hours at my own
disposal : read my own books, and see my own friends ;
and, whenever I please, may join the most polished and
delightful society in the world ! Our breakfasts are little
literary societies.
HANNAH MORE, Letter to her sister (1776)
Two GARDENERS EXCHANGE COMPLIMENTS
O the sweet evenings and mornings, and all the day
besides which are yours !
.... while Cowley's made
The happy tenant of the shade !
310
And the sun in his garden gives him all he desires, and all
that he would enjoy ; the purity of visible objects and of
true Nature, before she was vitiated by imposture or
luxury !
Books, wise discourse, gardens and fields,
And all the joys that umnixt Nature yields.
You gather the first roses of the spring, and apples of
autumn ; and as the philosopher in Seneca desir'd only
bread and herbs to dispute felicity with Jupiter, you vie
happiness in a thousand easy and sweet diversions ; not
forgetting the innocent toils which you cultivate, the
leisure and the liberty, the books, the meditations, and
above all, the learned and choice friendships that you
enjoy. Who would not, like you, cacher sa vie ? . . . I
assure you, Sir, it is what in the world I most inwardly
breathe after and pursue, not to say that I envy your
felicity, deliver'd from the gilded impertinences of life, to
enjoy the moments of a solid and pure contentment ;
since those who know how usefully you employ this
glorious recess, must needs be forced either to imitate, or,
as I do, to celebrate your example.
JOHN EVELYN
Kalendarium H or tense : Dedication to A. Cowley
(1664. Edition 1776)
I know no body that possesses more private happines
than you do in your Garden, and yet no man who makes
his happines more publique by a free communication
of the art and knowledg of it to others.
ABRAHAM COWLEY
The Garden : Dedication (1666)
311
WORKING AND FEASTING
Thus, then, I live ; something read or written every day ;
after that, not to be lacking in courtesy to my friends, I
feast with them.
CICERO
Letter to Paetus (46 B.C.)
THE ANGLER
No life, my honest Scholer, no life so happie and so pleas-
ant, as the life of a well-governed Angler ; for when the
Lawyer is swallowed up with businesse, and the States-
man is preventing or contriving plots, we sit on Cowslip
banks, hear the Birds sing, and possesse our selves in as
much quietnesse as these silver streames, which we now
see glide by us.
IZAAK WALTON
The Compleat Angler (1653)
ENJOYING THINGS
" Life," said a gaunt widow, with a reputation for being
clever, — " life is a perpetual toothache."
In this vein the conversation went on : the familiar
topics were discussed of labour troubles, epidemics,
cancer, tuberculosis, and taxation.
Next me there sat a little old lady who was placidly
drinking her tea, and taking no part in the melancholy
312
chorus. " Well, I must say/' she remarked, turning to me
and speaking in an undertone, " I must say I enjoy life."
" So do I," I whispered.
" When I enjoy things," she went on, " I know it.
Eating, for instance, the sunshine, my hot-water bottle at
night. Other people are always thinking of unpleasant
things. It makes a difference," she added, as she got up to
go with the others.
" All the difference in the world," I answered.
LOGAN PEARSALL SMITH
More Trivia (1922)
HOT BATHS
ARCHIMEDES DOES GEOMETRY IN THEM
Often times his servants got him agaunst his will to the
bathes, to washe and annoynt him : and yet being there he
would ever be drawing out of the Geometricall figures,
even in the very imbers of the chimney. And while they
were annointing of him with oyles and swete savors, with
his fingers he did draw lines upon his naked body : so
farre was he taken from himself, and brought into an
extasy or trauns, with the delite he had in the study of
Geometry, and truely ravished with the love of the Muses.
PLUTARCH, Lives (c. 100)
Trans. Sir Thos. North (1579)
313
A BISHOP COUNTERACTS REPLETION
Both our hosts had baths in their houses, but in neither
did they happen to be available ; so I set my own servants
to work. ... I made them dig a pit ... either near a spring
or by the river ; into this a heap of red-hot stones was
thrown, and the glowing cavity then covered over with an
arched roof of wattled hazel. . . . Water was thrown on the
hot stones ... In these vapour baths we passed whole
hours, with lively talk and repartee, all the time the cloud
of hissing steam enveloping us induced the healthiest
perspiration. When we had perspired enough, we bathed
in hot water ; the treatment removed the feeling of
repletion, but left us languid ; we therefore finished off
with a bracing douche from the fountain, well, or river.
SIDONIUS APOLLINARIS
Letter to Donidius (461-7). Trans. T. Hodgkin (1892)
BATHING DE LUXE
Christ. JErerus, in a consultation of his, hold once or twice a
week sufficient to bathe, the water to be warme, not hot,
for feare of sweating. Felix Plater ... for a Melancholy
Lawyer, will have lotions of the head still joyned to these
bathes, with a lee wherein capitall herbs have been
boyled. Laurentius speaks of bathes of milke, which I
find approved by many others. And still, after bath, the
body to be annointed with oyle of bitter Almonds, of
violets, new or fresh butter, Capons grease, especially
the backe bone. . . . The Romans had their publike Bathes,
very sumptuous and stupend, as those of Antoninus and
Dioclesian. . . . Some bathed seven times a day, as Corn-
modus the Emperor is reported to have done, usually
twice a-day, and they were after annoynted with most
costly oyntments : rich women bathed themselves in
milke, some in the milke of 500 she-asses at once. . . .
Of cold Bathes I finde little or no mention in any
Physitian ; some speake against them. ROBERT BURTON
Anatomy of Melancholy (1621. Edition 1632)
FOR HEALTH
At eight in the morning, we go in dishabille to the Pump-
room, which is crowded like a Welsh fair; and there you see
the highest quality and the lowest trade folks, jostling each
other, without ceremony, hail-fellow well met. The noise
of the music playing in the gallery, the heat and flavour of
such a crowd, and the hum and buz of their conversation,
gave me the head-ach and vertigo the first day ; but, after-
wards, all these things became familiar, and even agreeable.
Right under the Pump-room windows is the King's Bath ;
a huge cistern, where you see the patients up to their necks
in hot water. The ladies wear jackets and petticoats of
brown linen, with chip hats, in which they fix their hand-
kerchiefs to wipe the sweat from their faces ; but truly,
Whether it is owing to the steam that surrounds them, or
the heat of the water, or the nature of the dress, or to all
these causes together, they look so flushed and so frightful,
that I always turn my eyes another way. My aunt, who says
every person of fashion should make her appearance in the
bath, as well as in the abbey church, contrived 3 cap with
cherry-coloured ribbons to suit her complexion, and
315
obliged Win to attend her yesterday morning in the water.
But really, her eyes were so red, that they made mine
water as I viewed her from the Pump-room ; and as for
poor Win, who wore a hat trimmed with blue, what betwixt
her wan complexion and her fear, she looked like the ghost
of some pale maiden, who had drowned herself for love.
When she came out of the bath, she took assafoetida drops,
and was fluttered all day; so that we could hardly keep her
from going into hysterics : but her mistress says it will do
her good ; and poor Win curtsies, with the tears in her eyes.
TOBIAS SMOLLETT
Humphrey Clinker (1771)
HOUSES
A ROMAN MERCHANT'S HOUSE
Why, you should not come into anie mannes house of
account, but hee hadde fish-pondes and little orchardes on
the toppe of his leads. If by raine or any other meanes
those ponds were so full that they need to be slust or let
out, even of their superfluities they made melodious use,
for they had greate winde instruments in stead of leaden
spoutes, that went duly on consort, onely with this waters
rumbling discent. I sawe a summer banketting house be-
longing to a merchaunt, that was the mervaile of the
world, and could not be macht except God should make
another paradise. It was builte round of greene marble,
like a Theater with-out ; within there was a heaven and
earth comprehended both under one roofe, the heaven
was a cleere overhanging vault of christall, wherein the
Sunne and Moone, and each visible Starre had his true
similitude, shine, scituation, and motion, and by what
enwrapped arte I cannot conceive, these spheares in their
proper orbes observed their circular wheelinges and turn-
ings, making a certaine kinde of soft angelical murmering
musicke in their often windings and going about, which
musick the philosophers say in the true heaven by reason
of the grosenes of our senses we are not capable of. For the
earth, it was counterfeited in that liknes that Adam lorded
it out before his fall. . . . The flore was painted with the
beautifullest flouers that ever mans eie admired which so
linealy were delineated, that he that viewd them a farre
off and had not directly stood pouringly over them, would
have sworne they had lived in deede. The wals round
about were hedgde with Olives and palme trees, and all
other odoriferous fruit-bearing plants, which at anie solemn
entertainment dropt mirrhe and frankensence. Other
trees that bare no fruit were set in just order one against
another, and divided the roome into a number of shadie
lanes, leaving but one over-spreading pine tree arbor,
where wee sate and banketted. On the wel clothed boughs
of this conspiracie of pine trees against the resembled Sun
beames, were pearcht as many sortes of shrill breasted
birdes as the Summer hath allowed for singing men in her
silvane chappels. Who though there were bodies without
soules, and sweete resembled substances without sense,
yet by the mathemeticall experimentes of long silver pipes
secretlye inrinded in the intrailes of the boughs wheron
they sate, and undiscerneablie convaid under their bellies
317
into their small throats sloaping, they whistled and freely
carold theyr naturall field note. Neyther went those silver
pipes straight, but by many edged unsundred writhings,
and crankled wanderinges aside, strayed from bough to
bough into an hundred throats. . . . But so closely were
all those organizing implements obscured in the corpulent
trunks of the trees, that everie man there present renounst
conjectures of art, and sayd it was done by inchantment.
One tree for his fruit bare nothing but inchained chirp-
ing birdes, whose throates beeing conduit pipt . . . and
charged siring-wise with searching sweet water, . . . made
a spirting sound, such as chirping is, in bubling upwards
through the rough crannies of their closed bills. Under
tuition of the shade of everie tree that I have signified to
be in this round hedge, on delightful levie cloisters lay
a wylde tyranous beast asleepe all prostrate : under some,
two together, as the Dogge nusling his nose under the
necke of the Deare, the Wolfe glad to let the Lambe lye
upon hym to keepe him warme, the Lyon suffering the
Asse to cast hys legge over him. . . . No poysonous beast
there reposed (poyson was not before our parent Adam
transgressed). There were no sweete-breathing Panthers,
that would hyde their terrifying heads to betray : no men
imitating Hyoenaes, that chaunged their sexe to seeke after
bloud. Wolves as now when they are hungrie eate earth,
so then did they feed on earth only, and abstained from
innocent flesh. The Unicorne did not put his home into
the streame to chase awaye venome before hee dronke,
for then there was no suche thing extant in the water or
on the earth. Serpents were as harmlesse to mankinde,
as they are still one to another : the rose had no cankers,
the leves no caterpillers, the sea no Syrens, the earth no
usurers. Goats then bare wooll, as it is recorded in Sicily
318
they doo yet. The torride Zone was habitable : only Jayes
loved to steale gold and silver to build their nests withall,
and none cared for covetous clientrie, or runing to the
Indies. As the Elephant understands his countrey speach,
so everie beast understood what man spoke. The ant did
not hoord up against winter, for there was no winter but
a perpetuall spring, as Ovid saith. No frosts to make the
greene almound tree counted rash and improvident, in
budding soonest of all other : or the mulberie tree a strange
polititian, in blooming late and ripening early. . . . Young
plants for their sap had balme, for their yellow gumme
glistering amber. The evening dewed not water on flowers,
but honnie. Such a golden age, such a good age, such an
honest age was set forth in this banketting house. O Rome,,
if thou hast in thee such soul exalting objects, what a thing
is heaven in comparison of thee ? THOMAS NASHE
The Unfortunate Traveller (1594)
A GAUDY PALACE
Like heavens two maine lights,
The roomes illustrated, both daies and nights.
On every side stood firme a wall of brasse,
Even from the threshold to the inmost passe ;
Which bore a roofe up that all Saphire was ;
The brazen thresholds both sides, did enfold
Silver Pilasters, hung with gates of gold ;
Whose Portall was of silver ; over which
A golden Cornish did the front enrich.
On each side, Dogs, of gold and silver fram'd,
The houses Guard stood ; which the Deitie (lam'd) vuican.
319
With knowing inwards had inspir'd ; and made.
That Death nor Age> should their estates invade.
Along the wall, stood every way a throne ;
From th'entry to the Lobbie : every one.
Cast over with a rich-wrought cloth of state.
Beneath which, the Phceacian Princes sate
At wine and food ; and feasted all the yeare.
Youths forg'd of gold, at every table there,
Stood holding flaming torches ; that, in night
Gave through the house, each honourd Guest, his
HOMER
Odyssey. Book VII
Trans. George Chapman (1614)
A FINE HALL
A goodly hall
Of jaspar stones, it was wonderflye wrought
The windowes cleare, depured all of christal
And in the roufe, on hye over all
Of golde was made, a right crafty vyne,
In stede of grapes, the Rubies there did shyne.
The flore was paved with berall clarified
With pillars made of stones precious
Like a place of pleasure, so gayely glorified
It might be called, a palaice glorious
So muche delectable, and solacious.
The hall was hanged, bye and circuler
With clothe of arras, in the richest maner.
STEPHEN HAWES
The Passe ty me of Pleasure (1509)
320
HOUSE-PRIDE
I have nothing more to send you but a new ballad, which
my Lord Bath has made on this place ; you remember the
old burden of it, and the last lines allude to Billy Bristow's
having fallen in love with it.
Some talk of Gunnersbury,
For Sion some declare ;
And some say that with Chiswick House
No villa can compare ;
But all the beaux of Middlesex,
Who know that country well,
Say that Strawberry Hill, that Strawberry
Doth bear away the bell.
Though Surrey boasts its Oatlands,
And Claremont kept so gim ;
And though they talk of Southcote's,
It's but a dainty whim ;
For ask the gallant Bristow,
Who does in taste excel,
If Strawberry Hill, if Strawberry
Don't bear away the bell.
I am a little pleased to send you this, to show you that
in summer we are a little pretty. HORACE WALPOLE
Letter to George Montagu (1755)
LP 321
ICE
YOUNG MEN PLAY ON IT
When the great fenn, or Moore, which watereth the walles
of the title on the North side, is frozen, many young men
play upon the ice ; some stryding as wide as they may,
doe slide swiftly ; others make themselves seates of ice,
as great as milstones ; one sits downe, many hand in hand
do drawe him, and one slipping down on a sudden, all fall
together ; some tye bones to their feete and under their
heeles ; and shoving themselves by a little picked staffe,
do slide as swiftly as a bird flyeth in the aire, ar an arrow
out of a crossebow. Sometime two runn together with
poles, and hitting one the other, either one or both doe fall,
not without hurt ; some break their armes, some their legs,
but youth desirous of glorie, in this sort exerciseth it selfe
against the time of warre. WILLIAM FITZSTEPHEN
Vita Sancti Thomae (c. 1180). Trans. John Stow (1598)
SLIDING AND SKATING
Having scene the strange and wonderful dexterity of the
sliders on the new canal in St James's Park, perform'd be-
fore their Matic8 by divers gentlemen and others with
322
scheets, after the manner of the Hollanders, with what
swiftness they passe, how suddainely they stop in full
carriere upon the ice, I went home by water, but not
without exceeding difficultie the Thames being frozen,
greate flakes of ice encompassing our boate.
JOHN EVELYN, Diary (Dec. i, 1662)
ICICLES
The Hautboys who playd to us last night had their breath
froze in their instruments till it dropt of the ends of 'em
in icicles by god this is true. WILLIAM CONGREVE
Letter to Edward Porter (Jan. ist, 1700 ?)
CARNIVAL
London enjoyed a carnival of the utmost brilliancy. . . .
Frozen roses fell in showers when the Queen and her ladies
walked abroad. Coloured balloons hovered motionless in
the air. Here and there burnt vast bonfires of cedar and
oak wood, lavishly salted, so that the flames were of green,
orange, and purple fire. But however fiercely they burnt,
the heat was not enough to melt the ice which, though of
singular transparency, was yet of the hardness of steel.
So clear indeed was it that there could be seen, congealed
at a depth of several feet, here a porpoise, there a flounder.
Shoals of eels lay motionless in a trance, but whether their
state was one of death or merely of suspended animation
which the warmth would revive puzzled the philosophers.
Near London Bridge, where the river had frozen to a
323
depth of some twenty fathoms, a wrecked wherry boat was
plainly visible, lying on the bed of the river where it had
sunk last autumn, overladen with apples. The old bum-
boat woman, who was carrying her fruit to market on the
Surrey side, sat there in her plaids and farthinghales with
her lap full, of apples, for all the world as if she were about
to serve a customer, though a certain blueness about the
lips hinted the truth. 'Twas a sight King James specially
liked to look upon, and he would bring a troupe of cour-
tiers to gaze with him. In short nothing could exceed the
brilliancy and gaiety of the scene by day. But it was at night
that the carnival was at its merriest. For the frost con-
tinued unbroken ; the nights were of perfect stillness ; the
moon and stars blazed with the hard fixity of diamonds, and
to the fine music of flute and trumpet the courtiers danced.
VIRGINIA WOOLF, Orlando (1928)
IGNORANCE
INNOCENCE
A learned and a happy Ignorance
Divided me
From all the Vanity,
From all the Sloth, Care, Sorrow, that advance
The Madness and the Misery
Of Men. No Error, no Distraction, I
Saw cloud the Earth, or over-cast the Sky.
324
I knew not that there was a Serpent's Sting,
Whose Poyson shed
On Alen, did overspread
The World : Nor did I dream of such a thing
As Sin, in which Mankind lay dead.
They all were brisk and living Things to me.
Yea, pure and full of immortality.
Unwelcom Penitence I then thought not on ;
Vain costly Toys,
Swearing and roaring -boys,
Shops, Markets, Taverns, Coaches, were unknown,
So all things were that drown my Joys :
No thorns choakt-up my Path, nor hid the face
Of Bliss and Glory, nor eclypt my place.
Only what Adam in his first Estate
Did I behold ;
Hard silver and dry Gold
As yet lay underground : My happy Fate
Was more acquainted with the old
And innocent Delights which he did see
In his Original Simplicity.
THOMAS TRAHERNE
Eden : Poems of Felicity (? 1656-66)
PLEASANT GENTLEMEN
The Ancients were pleasant Gentlemen, to imagine that
the celestial Bodies were in their own nature unchange-
able, because they observed no change in them.
B. DE FONTENELLE
A Plurality of Worlds (1686). Trans. John Glanvill (1688)
325
FOOLS ENJOY THEIR PLEASURES
. . As Knowledge cast Adam out of Paradise, so it do's all
those who apply themselves to it, for the more they
understand, they do but more plainly perceive, their own
wants and Nakedness, as he did, which before in the State
of Ignorance were hidden from him, untill the eies of his
understanding were opened, only to let him see his losses,
and the Miseries which he had betrayed himself unto. For
the world appeares a much finer thing to those that under-
stand it not then to those who do, and Fooles injoy their
Pleasures with greater Appetite and Gust then those who
are more sensible of their vanity and unwholesomnes.
SAMUEL BUTLER
Miscellaneous Observations (c. 1660-70)
NOT READING THE MAGAZINES
I have been thinking over our late correspondence, and
wish to propose to you the following articles for our
future : —
. . . 4thly, That you send me no periodical works what-
soever— no Edinburgh., Quarterly, Monthly, nor any
Review, Magazine, Newspaper, English or foreign, of any
description. 5thly, That you send me no opinions what-
soever, either good, bad, or indifferent, of yourself, or your
friends, or others, concerning my work, or works of mine
past, present, or to come. . . . Reviews and Magazines are
at the best but ephemeral and superficial reading : who
thinks of the grand article of last year, in any given review ?
in the next place, if they regard myself, they tend to
326
increase Egotism ; if favourable, I do not deny that the
praise elates, and if unfavourable, that the abuse irritates —
the latter may conduct me to inflict a species of Satire,
which would neither do good to you nor to your friends :
they may smile now, and so may you, but if I took you all in
hand, it would not be difficult to cut you up like gourds . . .
Therefore let me hear none of your provocations. If any
thing occurs so very gross as to require my notice, I shall
hear of it from my personal friends. For the rest, I merely
request to be left in ignorance. The same applies to
opinions, good, bad, or indifferent, of persons in conversa-
tion or correspondence : . . . they soil the current of my
Mind. I am sensitive enough, but not till I am touched', and
here I am beyond the touch of the short arms of literary
England. ... All these precautions in England would be
useless : the libeller or the flatterer would there reach me
in spite of all ; but in Italy we know little of literary
England and think less, except what reaches us through
some garbled and brief extract in some miserable Gazette.
LORD BYRON
Letter to John Murray (1821)
SANCTA SIMPLICITAS
Yon cottager, who weaves at her own door,
Pillow and bobbins all her little store,
Content, though mean ; and cheerful, if not gay ;
Shuffling her threads about the live-long day,
Just earns a scanty pittance ', and at night
Lies down secure, her heart and pocket light :
She, for her humble sphere by nature fit,
Has little understanding, and no wit,
327
Recieves no praise ; but, though her lot be such,
(Toilsome and indigent) she renders much ;
Just knows, and knows no more, her Bible true —
A truth the brilliant Frenchman never knew ;
And in that charter reads, with sparkling eyes,
Her title to a treasure in the skies.
O happy peasant ! Oh, unhappy bard !
His the mere tinsel, hers the rich reward ;
He prais'd, perhaps, for ages yet to come ;
She never heard of half a mile from home :
He, lost in errors, his vain heart prefers ;
She, safe in the simplicity of hers.
Not many wise, rich, noble, or profound
In science, win one inch of heav'nly ground.
And is it not a mortifying thought
The poor should gain it, and the rich should not ?
WILLIAM COWPER
Truth (1782)
RESULTS OF CENSORSHIP
Another sort there be who when they hear that all things
shall be order'd, all things regulated and setPd ; nothing
writt'n but what passes through the custom-house of
certain Publicans that have the tunaging and poundaging
of all free spok'n truth, will strait give themselvs up into
your hands, mak'em and cut'em out what religion ye
please ; there be delights, there be recreations and jolly
pastimes that will fetch the day about from sun to sun, and
rock the tedious year as in a delightfull dream. What need
they torture their heads with that which others have tak'n
328
so strictly, and so unalterably into their own pourveying.
These are the fruits which a dull ease and cessation of
our knowledge will bring forth among the people. How
goodly, and how to be wisht were such an obedient unani-
mity as this, what a fine conformity would it starch us all
*nt° ! JOHN MILTON
Areopagitica (1643)
IN BED
SINGING
At night, when he was abed, and the dores made fast, and
was sure nobody heard him, he sang aloud (not that he
had a very good voice) but for his health's sake : he did
beleeve it did his lunges gcod, and conduced much to
prolong his life. JOHN AUBREY
Brief Lives : Thomas Hobbes (c. 1680)
MATHEMATICS
I have heard Mr Hobbes say that he was wont to draw
lines on his thigh and on the sheetes, abed, and also
multiply and divide.
329
READING
Let sleep creep over you while you hold a book, and let
the ... page support your falling face.
sx JEROME, Letter to Eustochium (384)
COMFORT
Rode easily to Welling, where we supped well, and had
two beds in the room and so lay single, and still remember
it that of all the nights that ever I slept in my life I never
did pass a night with more epicurism of sleep ; there
being now and then a noise of people stirring that waked
me, and then it was a very rainy night, and then I was a
little weary, that what between waking and then sleeping
again, one after another, I never had so much content in
all my life, and so my wife says it was with her.
SAMUEL PEPYS, Diary (Sept. 23, 1660)
THINKING OF WIT
Dr Swift lies a-bed till eleven o'clock, and thinks of wit
for the day. JOSEPH SPENCE, Anecdotes (c. 1734)
FLOODS OF DOWN
And to your more bewitching, see, the proud
Plumpe Bed beare up, and swelling like a cloud,
Tempting the two too modest ; can
Yee see it brusle like a Swan,
330
And you be cold
Too meet it, when it woo's and seemes to fold
The Armes to hugge it ? throw, throw
Your selves into the mighty over-flow
Of that white Pride, and Drowne
The night, with you, in floods of Downe.
ROBERT HERRICK
A Nuptiall Song, or Epithalamie, on Sir Clipseby Crew
and his Lady. Hesperides (1648)
THE FLEA ASLEEP
My Bed was such, as Down nor Feather can
Make one more soft, though Jove againe turn swan ;
No fear-distracted thoughts my slumbers broke,
I heard no screech owl shreek, nor Raven croak ;
Sleep's foe, the Flea, that proud insulting Elfe,
Is now at truce, and is asleep it selfe.
SIR JOHN MENNIS
The Nightinghale
Musarum Deliciae (1655)
CARDS
He played at cards rarely well, and did use to practise by
himselfe a bed, and there studyed how the best way of
managing the cards could be.
JOHN AUBREY
Brief Lives : Sir John Suckling (c. 1680)
331
BASKETS OF FRUIT
Another time, as he [Thomas Traherne] was in bed,
he saw a basket come sailing in the air, along by the
valence of his bed ; I think he said there was fruit in the
basket : it was a Phantom. JOHN AUBREY
Apparitions (Miscellanies) (1696)
LYING LATE
O Thou that sleep'st like Pigg in Straw,
Thou Lady dear, arise ;
Open (to keep the Sun in awe)
Thy pretty pinking eyes :
And, having stretcht each Leg and Arme,
Put on your cleane white Smock,
And then I pray, to keep you warme,
A Petticote on Dock.
Arise, arise ! Why should you sleep,
When you have slept enough ?
Long since, French Boyes cry'd Chimney-sweep,
And Damsels Kitching-stuffe.
The Shops were open'd long before,
And youngest Prentice goes
To lay at's Mrs. Chamber-doore.
His Masters shining Shooes.
Arise, arise ; your Breakfast stayes,
Good Water-grewell warme,
Or Sugar-sops, which Galen sayes
With Mace, will doe no harme.
332
Arise, arise ; when you are up,
You'l find more to your cost,
For Mornings-draught with Caudle-cup,
Good Nutbrown-Ale, and Tost.
SIR WILLIAM DAVENANT
News from Plimouth (1635)
LYING LATE
'Tis the voice of the Sluggard ; I hear him complain,
" You have wak'd me too soon, I must slumber again."
As the Door on its Hinges, so he on his Bed,
Turns his Sides, and his Shoulders, and his heavy Head.
" A little more Sleep and a little more Slumber " ;
Thus he wastes half his Days and his Hours without
number ;
And when he gets up, he sits folding his Hands,
Or walks about sauntering, or trifling he stands.
ISAAC WATTS
The Sluggard. Moral Songs (pub. 1743)
JOHNSON : " I have, all my life long, been lying till noon ;
yet I tell all young men, and tell them with great sincerity,
that nobody who does not rise early will ever do any
gOOd." JAMES BOSWELL
Tour to the Hebrides with Samuel Johnson (1785)
I purpose to rise at eight, because, though I shall not yet
rise early, it will be much earlier than I now rise, for I
often lie till two. SAMUEL JOHNSON
Prayers and Meditations (1765)
333
SLEEPING OUT
Thus talking hand in hand alone they pass'd
On to thir blissful Bower ; it was a place
Chos'n by the sovran Planter, when he fram'd
All things to mans delightful use ; the roofe
Of thickest covert was inwoven shade
Laurel and Mirtle, and what higher grew
Of firm and fragrant leaf; on either side
Acanthus, and each odorous bushie shrub
Fenc'd up the verdant wall ; each beauteous flour,
Iris all hues, Roses, and Gessamin
Rear'd high thir flourisht heads between, and
wrought
Mosaic ; underfoot the Violet,
Crocus, and Hyacinth with rich inlay
Broiderd the ground, more colour'd then with
stone
Of costliest Emblem : other Creature here
Beast, Bird, Insect, or Worm durst enter none ;
Such was thir awe of man. In shadier Bower
More sacred and sequesterd though but feignd,
Pan and Silvanus never slept, nor Nymph,
Nor Faunus haunted. Here in close recess
With Flowers, Garlands, and sweet-smelling Herbs
Espoused Eve deckt first her Nuptial Bed,
And heav'nly Quires the Hymenaean sung. . . .
These lulld by Nightinghales imbraceing slept,
And on thir naked limbs the flourie roof
Showrd Roses, which the Morn repair'd. Sleep on,
Blest Pair. JOHN MILTON
Paradise Lost, Book IV (1667)
334
Theis are the spels which to kind sleep invite, . . .
Who would not choos to bee awake,
While hee's encompasst round with such delight,
To th'ear, the nose, the touch, the tast, and sight ?
When Venus would her dear Ascanius keep
A pris'ner in the downy bands of sleep,
She odorous herbs and flowers about him spred,
As the most soft and sweetest bed ;
Not her own lap would more have charm'd his head.
Who that has Reason, and his smel,
Would not amoungst roses and jasmin dwell.
Rather then all his spirits choak
With exhalations of dirt and smoak ?
ABRAHAM COWLEY
The Garden (1666)
Music AND VIRTUOUS THOUGHTS
Happy are they that go to bed with grave musick like
Pythagoras, or have wayes to compose the phantasticall
spirit, whose unrulie wandrings takes of inward sleepe,
filling our heads with St. Anthonies visions, and the
dreames of Lipara in the sober chambers of rest.
Virtuous thoughts of the day laye up good treasors for
the night . . . hereby Solomons sleepe was happy.
SIR THOMAS BROWNE
On Dreams (?)
335
LOVB
Busie old foole, unruly Sunne,
Why dost thou thus,
Through windowes, and through curtaines call on us ?
Must to thy motions lovers seasons run ?
Sawcy pendantique wretch, goe chide
Late schoole boyes, and sowre prentices,
Goe tell Court-huntsmen, that the King will ride,
Call countrey ants to harvest offices ;
Love, all alike, no season knowes, nor clyme,
Nor houres, dayes, moneths, which are the rags of
time. . . ,
If her eyes have not blinded thine,
Looke, and to morrow late, tell mee,
Whether both the India's of spice and Myne
Be where thou leftst them, or lie here with mee.
Aske for those Kings whom thou saw'st yesterday,
And thou shalt heare, All here in one bed lay.
She is all States, and all Princes, I,
Nothing else is.
Princes doe but play us ; compared to this,
All honor's mimique ; All wealth alchemic.
Thou sunne art halfe as happy as wee,
In that the world's contracted thus ;
Thine age askes ease, and since they duties bee
To warme the world, that's done in warming us.
Shine here to us, and thou art every where ;
This bed thy center is, these walls, thy spheare.
JOHN DONNE
The Sunne rising (Songs and Sonnets 1590-1601)
336
SAFETY
From noise of Scare-fires rest ye free.
From Murders Benedicitie.
From all mischances, they may fright
Your pleasing slumbers in the night :
Mercie secure ye all, and keep
The Goblin from ye, while ye sleep.
Past one aclock, and almost two,
My Masters all, Good day to you.
ROBERT HERRICK
The Bell-man. Hesperides (1648)
SLEEP
Come sleepe, o sleepe, the certaine knot of peace,
The baiting place of wit, the balme of woe,
The poore mans wealth, the prisoners release,
Th' indifferent Judge betweene the high and low ;
With shield of proofe shield me from out the prease
Of those fierce darts, dispaire at me doth throw :
0 make in me those civill warres to cease ;
1 will good tribute pay if thou wilt do so.
Take thou of me smooth pillowes, sweetest bed,
A chamber deafe to noise, and blind to light :
A rosie garland, and a wearie hed :
And if these things, as being thine in right,
Move not thy heavy grace, thou shalt in me,
Livelier than else-where Stellas image see.
SIR PHILIP SIDNEY
Astrophel and Stella (1591)
337
DREAMS
But the phantasmes of sleepe do commonly walk in the
great roade of naturall and animal dreames ; wherein the
thoughts or actions of the day are acted over and echoed in
the night. Who can therefore wonder that Chrysostome
should dreame of St Paul who dayly read his Epistles ;
or that Cardan whose head was so taken up about the
starres should dreame that his soule was in the moone !
Pious persons whose thoughts are dayly buisied about
heaven and the blessed state thereof, can hardly escape
the nightly phantasmes of it ...
Physitians will tell us that some food makes turbulent,
some gives quiet dreames. Cato who doated upon cabbadge
might find the crude effects thereof in his sleepe ; wherin
the ^Egyptians might find some advantage by their super-
stitious abstinence from onyons. Pythagoras might have
more calmer sleepes if hee totally abstained from
beanes. . . .
To adde unto the delusion of dreames, the phantasticall
objects seeme greater then they are ... whereby it may
prove more easie to dreame of Gyants then pygmies.
Democritus might seldome dreame of Atomes, who so
often thought of them
That some have never dreamed is as improbable as
that some have never laughed. That children dreame
not the first half yeare, that men dreame not ins some
countries, with many more, are unto mee sick mens
dreames, dreames out of the Ivorie gate, and visions
before midnight.
SIR THOMAS BROWNE
On Dreams (undated)
338
Thou only canst each absent Blessing grant,
Which, but asleep, we languish for and want.
Thou'rt the chast Comfort of the Widow's Bed,
That kindly do'st restore the Husband dead ;
And O, thou full Refreshment to the Maid,
Who do'st, in Dreams, her feav'rish Passion aid ...
No man's undone, who seems apprest by Thee ;
Debtors are under thy Arrest made free ;
Thou cansy poor Slaves from Chains awhile release,
In Durance give them Freedom, Health, and Ease.
By Thee, our Cares in difF'rent Lights are rang'd,
And black Despair for Cheerful Hopes exchang'd.
Distance and Time thou canst at Will oe'rleap,
And compremise whole Years in one short Sleep.
By Thee divided Freinds embrace in Thought,
And absent Lovers are together brought.
WILLIAM WYCHERLEY
Sleep and Death (? 1729)
Awake, awake, my little boy !
Thou wast thy mother's only joy ;
Why dost thou weep in thy gentle sleep ?
Awake ! thy father does thee keep.
" O, what land is the Land of Dreams ?
What are its mountains, and what are its streams ?
0 father ! I saw my mother there,
Among the lilies by waters fair.
Among the lambs, clothed in white,
She walk'd with her Thomas in sweet delight.
1 wept for joy, like a dove I mourn ;
O ! when shall I again return ? "
339
Dear child, I also by pleasant streams
Have wander'd all night in the Land of Dreams ;
But tho' calm and warm the waters wide,
I could not get to the other side.
" Father, O father ! what do we here
In this land of unbelief and fear ?
The Land of Dreams is better far.
Above the light of the morning Star."
WILLIAM BLAKE
The Land of Dreams (c. 1802)
My Lady Seymour dreamt, that shee found a nest, with
nine finches in it. And so many children shee had by the
Earl of Winchelsea, whose name is Finch.
When Sir Christopher Wren was at Paris, about 1671
... he dreamt, that he was in a place where Palm-trees
grew (suppose Eygpt) and that a woman in a romantick
habit, reach'd him dates.
JOHN AUBREY
Dreams (Miscellanies] (1696)
Methought I saw my late espoused Saint
Brought to me like Alcestis from the grave,
Whom Joves great Son to her glad Husband gave,
Rescu'd from death by force though pale and faint.
Mine as whom washt from spot of child-bed taint,
Purification in the old Law did save,
And such, as yet once more I trust to have
Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint,
340
Came vested all in white, pure as her mind :
Her face was vail'd, yet to my fancied sight,
Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shin'd
So clear, as in no face with more delight.
But O as to embrace me she enclin'd
I wak'd, she fled, and day brought back my night.
JOHN MILTON
Sonnet XIX (c. 1657)
AN INTELLIGENT PHYSICIAN
When a sad and sicke patient was brought to him [Epicurus]
to be cured, Hee laid him on a downe bed, crowned him
with a garland of sweet-smelling flowres, in a fair e perfumed
closet delicately set out, and, after a potion or two of good
drink, which he administred, he brought in a beautifull young
wench that could play upon a Lute, sing and dance, &c. . , .
Most of our looser Physitians in some cases . . . allow of
this, and all of them will have a melancholy, sad, and
discontented Person, make frequent use of honest sportes,
companies, and recreations.
ROBERT BURTON
The Anatomy of Melancholy
(1621. Edition 1632)
341
INDUSTRY
A DILIGENT YOUTH
Before I was sixteen, I had exhausted all that could be
learned in English of the Arabs and Persians, the Tartars
and Turks ; and the same ardour urged me to guess at the
French of d'Herbelot, and to construe the barbarous Latin
of Pocock's Abulpharagius. . / . The maps of Cellarius
and Wells imprinted in my mind the picture of ancient
Geography ; from Strauchius I imbibed the elements of
Chronology ; the tables of Helvicus and Anderson, the
annals of Usher and Prideaux, distinguished the connection
of events, and I engraved the multitude of names and dates
in a clear and indelible series. But in the discussion of the
first ages I overleaped the bounds of modesty and use. In
my childish balance I presumed to weight the systems of
Scaliger and Petavius, of Marsham and Newton which I
could seldom study in the originals ; the Dynasties of
Assyria and Egypt were my top and cricket-ball ; and my
sleep has been disturbed by the difficulty of reconciling
the Septuagint with the Hebrew commutation. . . .
At the conclusion of this first period of my life, I am
tempted to utter a protest against the trite and lavish praise
of the happiness of our boyish years, which is echoed with
342
so much affectation in the World. That happiness I have
never known, that time I have never regretted ; and were
my poor aunt still alive., she would bear testimony to the
early and constant uniformity of my sentiments. . . . My
name, it is most true, could never be enrolled among the
sprightly race, the idle progeny of Eton or Westminster,
who delight to cleave the water with pliant arm, to urge
the flying ball, and to chace the speed of the rolling circle.
... A state of happiness arising only from the want of
foresight and reflection shall never provoke my envy ; such
degenerate taste would tend to sink us in the scale of
beings from a man to a child, a dog, and an oyster, till we
had reached the confines of brute matter, which cannot
suffer because it cannot feel.
EDWARD GIBBON
Autobiography (1792)
MIDNIGHT STUDY
This man whom about mid-night, when others take their
rest, thou seeest come out of his study meagre-looking,
with eyes-trilling, flegmatique, squalide, and spauling,
doest thou thinke, that plodding on his books he doth
seek how he shall become an honester man; or more
wise, or more content ? There is no such matter. He will
either die in his pursuit, or teach posteritie the measure
of Plautus verse, and the true orthography of a Latine
word.
MICHEL DE MONTAIGNE
Essays : Of Solitarinesse (1580)
Trans. John Florio (1603)
343
NEVER IDLE
A person of great temperance, and deepe thought, and a
working head, never idle. From 14 he had a candle burn-
ing by him all night, with pen, inke, and paper, to write
downe thoughts as they came into his head ; that so he
might not loose a thought. Was ever a great lover of
Naturall Philosophic. His whole life has been perplext in
lawe-suits ... in which he alwaies over-came . . . one
lasted 1 8 yeares. JOHN AUBREY
Brief Lives : James Bovey (c. 1680)
BUILDING A TOWN
Thebes being at that time inhabited by a barbarous un-
polished People, was nothing but a confused Heap of Huts,
scattered here and there ; and the Town, if yet it de-
served the Name, had no Walls capable to defend it against
any Attacks from without. Amphion, relying on the Assist-
ance of the MuseSy proposed to render his new Conquest
an impregnable Fort, and to give it an Air of Magnificence
worthy of the Residence of Kings. He invokes those God-
desses who had always made him their peculiar Care, and
no sooner does he begin to tune his Voice and touch the
Lyre, than the Stones, animated by his inchanting Strains,
leap from the Rocks, and raise themselves into regular
Buildings, as if they had been placed by the Hand of a
skilful Architect : Walls and Towers rise round Thebes,
and its mean Cottages are changed into lofty Palaces.
ANON
The Temple of the Muses (1738)
(From the French of Michel de Marolles)
344
THE INDUSTRIOUS DEAN
Nor was his age onely so industrious, but in his most
unsetled youth he was (being in health) never knowne to
be in bed after foure of the clock in the morning, nor
usually out of his chamber till ten, and imployed that
time constantly (if not more) in his Studie. Which, if it
seeme strange, may gain beliefe by the visible fruits of
his labours : some of which remaine to testifie what is
here written : for he left the resultance of 1400 Authors,
most of them analyzed with his owne hand ; He left also
six score Sermons, also, all writ with his owne hand ; a
large and laborious Treatise concerning Selfe-murther,
called Biathanatosey wherein all the Lawes violated by that
act, are diligently survayed, and judiciously censured ; A
Treatise written in his youth, which alone might declare
him then, not onely perfect in the Civil and Canon Law,
but in many other such studies and arguments as enter
not into the consideration of many profest Scholars, that
labour to be thought learned Clerks, and to know all
things.
Nor were these onely found in his Studie, but all busi-
nesses that past of any publique consequence in this or
any of our neighbour Kingdoms, he abbreviated either in
Latine, or in the Language of the Nation, and kept them
by him for a memoriall. So he did the Copies of divers
Letters and Cases of Conscience that had concerned his
friends, (with his solutions) and divers other businesses of
importance, all particularly and methodically digested by
himselfe.
IZAAK WALTON
Life and Death of Dr. Donne (1640)
345
INSULT
A FEW OF DR. JOHNSON'S
He related to me a short dialogue that passed between
himself and a writer of the first eminence in the world,
when he was in Scotland ... Dr. asked me (said he)
why I did not join in their public worship when among
them ? for (said he) I went to your churches often when
in England. " So (replied Johnson) I have read that the
Siamese sent ambassadors to Louis Quatorze, but I never
heard that the king of France thought it worth his while
to send ambassadors from his court to that of Siam" ....
When I one day lamented the loss of a first cousin killed
in America — " Prithee, my dear (said he) have done with
canting : how would the world be worse for it, I may ask,
if all your relations were at once spitted like larks and
roasted for Presto's supper ? " Presto was the dog that
lay under the table. . . . One day at dinner I meant to
please Mr Johnson particularly with a dish of very young
peas. Are not they charming ? said I to him, while he was
eating them. — " Perhaps (said he) they would be so — to
apfc."
HESTHER PIOZZI
Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson (1786)
346
An essay . . . maintaining the future life of brutes . . . was
mentioned, and the doctrine insisted on by a gentleman who
seemed fond of curious speculation. Johnson, who did not
like to hear of any thing concerning a future state which
was not authorised by the regular canons of orthodoxy,
discouraged this talk ; and being offended by its continua-
tion, he watched an opportunity to give the gentleman
a blow of reprehension. So, when the poor speculatist,
with a serious metaphysical face, addressed him, " But
really, Sir, when we see a very sensible dog, we don't
know what to think of him," Johnson, rolling with joy at
the thought which beamed in his eye, turned quickly
round and replied, " True, Sir : and when we see a very
foolish fellow, we don't know what to think of him " He
then rose up, strided to the fire, and stood for some time
laughing and exulting.
JAMES BOSWELL, Life of Johnson (1792)
SOME OF MILTON'S
His very first page notoriously bewraies him an illiterat
and arrogant presumer . . . bearing us in hand as if hee
knew both Greek and Ebrew, and is not able to spell it ...
I shall yet continue to think that man full of other secret
injustice and deceitfull pride, who shall offer in public to
assume the skill, though it bee but of a tongue which hee
hath not . . . Nor did I finde this his want of the pretended
Languages alone, but accompanied with such a low and
home-spun expression of his Mother English all along,
without joynt or frame, as made mee, ere I knew furder
of him, often stop, and conclude, that this Author could
for certain bee no other then some Mechanick ... a gross
347
and sluggish, yet a contentious and overweening pretender
. . . since ratifi'd to bee no other, if any can hold laughter,
then an actual Serving-man. This creature . . . turn'd
Sollicker ... a Servingman by nature and by practice, an
Idiot by breeding, and a Sollicker by presumption. . . .
Observe now the arrogance of a groom, how it will mount
. . . jesting and frisking in the luxury of his non-sense to
cog a laughter from us ... this odious fool, who thus ever
when hee meets with ought above the cogitation of his
breeding, leavs the noysom stench of his rude slot behind
him .... the filth and venom of this gourmand . . . not a
golden but a brazen ass. Since my fate extorts from mee
a talent of sport, which I had thought to hide in a napkin,
hee shall bee my Batrachomuomachia, my Bavius> my
Calandrino, the common adagy of ignorance and over-
weening. . . .
Thus much to this Nuisance. JOHN MILTON
Colas terion (1645)
KNOWLEDGE
ECSTASY
The discovery of the two actively opposite tartaric acids
was a momentous one, effecting a revolution in the views
of chemists regarding molecular structure ; and we can well
understand the feeling of happiness and the nervous excite-
ment by which Pasteur was overcome on making his dis-
covery. Rushing from his laboratory and meeting a curator
348
he embraced him, exclaiming, " I have just made a great
discovery ! I have separated the sodium ammonium paro-
tartrate with two salts of opposite action on the plane of
polarisation of light. The dextro-salt is in all respects
identical with the dextro-tartrate. I am so happy and over-
come by such nervous excitement that I am unable to
place my eye again to the polarisation apparatus."
ALEXANDER FINDLAY
Chemistry in the Service of Man (1916)
TEASING THE ASSEMBLY OF DIVINES
He was one of the Assembly of Divines in those days
.... and was like a Thorne in their sides ; for he did baffle
and vex them ; for he was able to runne them all downe
with his Greeke and antiquities. JOHN AUBREY
Brief Lives : John Selden (c. 1680)
WISDOM REWARDED
And the Quene of Saba hearde of the fame of Salomon
and came to prove him with ryddelles at Jerusalem, with
a very great companye, and with camelles that bare swete
odoures and plentye of golde and preciouse stone. And when
she was come to Salomon, she communed with him of
all that was in her herte. And Salomon foyled her all her
questions, that there was nothing hid from Salomon which
he tolde her not. And when the quene of Saba had sene
the wisdom of Salomon and the house that he had built,
and the meat of hys table, and the syttinge of hys servantes,
349
and the standynge of hys wayters and their apparell, and hys
buttelars with their apparell, and his parlour out of which
he went into the house of the Lord, she was so astonyed
that there was no moare herte in her. And then she sayde
to the kynge .... the one halfe of thy wysdome was not
tolde me : thou exceedest the fame that I hearde, happye
are thy men, and happye are these thy servauntes which
stande before thee alJwaye and heare thy wisdome. . .
And she gave the Kyng an hundred and twenty talentes of
gould, and of swete odoures exceedynge great aboun-
dance with preciouse stones, and there was no soche swete
odoures as the quene of Saba gave kynge Salomon
Chronicles ii
Trans, by William Tyndale. Matthew's Bible (1537)
LIBERTY
OF THE ENGLISH
I look upon Humour to be almost of English Growth ; at
least, it does not seem to have found such encrease on any
other Soil. And what appears to me to be the reason of it,
is the great Freedom, Privilege and Liberty which the
Common People of England enjoy. Any Man that has a
Humour is under no restraint, or fear of giving it Vent ;
They have a proverb among them, which, may be, will
shew the Bent and Genius of the People, as well as a longer
350
Discourse He that will have a May-Pole, shall have a May-
Pole. This is a Maxim with them, and their Practice is
agreeable to it. I believe something Considerable too may
be ascribed to their feeding so much on Flesh, and the
Grossness of their Diet in general. But I have done, let the
Physicians agree that.
WILLIAM CONGREVE, Letter to John Dennis (1695)
OF DRUNKARDS
It must be confess'd that the notion of Liberty is deeply
imprinted in our hearts, there being certainly nothing
more advantagious, nothing more beneficial, more
pleasing, and more agreeable to human Reason. 'Tis
Liberty that by its origin and excellence imparts to us a
great resemblance, and, as it were, unites us with the
Divine Nature itself: for the Gods, tho' they injoy
immense Pleasures, yet their highest excellency consists
in having their Will unlimited by any superior Power.
You that are enemies to Drunkenness, consider seriously
the course of all sublunary things : consider whether 'Tis
not the Drunkard that, before all Others, can boast of this
Liberty, and acts as uncontroulable as the Gods them-
selves.
TOM BROWN, Oration in Praise of Drunkenness (169-)
OF CONVERSING WHERE WE LIKE
MRS FRAIL : Lord, where's the Comfort of this Life, if
we can't have the Happiness of conversing where we like ?
WILLIAM CONGREVE, Love for Love (1695)
351
OF SPEECH AND OF BLOW
In short, Sir, I have got no further than this : every man
has a right to utter what he thinks truth, and every other
man has a right to knock him down for it.
JAMES BOSWELL
Life of Johnson (1791)
OF THE PRESS
The Multiplicity of Religious Sects tolerated among us ...
is another Source of unexhaustible Publication, almost
peculiar to ourselves ; for Controversies cannot be long
continued . . . where an Inquisitor has a Right to shut up
the Disputants in dungeons ; or where Silence can be
imposed on either Party, by the Refusal of a License.
Not that it should be inferred from hence, that Political
or Religious Controversies are the only Products of the
Liberty of the British Press ; the Mind once let loose to
Enquiry, and suffered to operate without Restraint, neces-
sarily deviates into peculiar Opinions, and wanders in new
Tracks, where she is indeed sometimes lost in a Labyrinth
. . . yet sometimes makes useful Discoveries, or finds out
nearer Paths to Knowledge. . . .
All these and many other Causes, too tedious to be
enumerated, have contributed to make Pamphlets and
small Tracts a very important Part of an English Library.
SAMUEL JOHNSON
Origin and Importance of small tracts (1744)
352
LUNATIC
NEW MOON
For in the new moone they [elephants] come together in
great companies, and bath and wash them in a river, and
lowte each to other, and turne so againe to their own places.
BARTHOLOMEW ANGLICUS
De Proprietatibus Rerum (c. 1240)
Trans. John Trevisa (1398, modernised 1582)
Mutianus saith . . . that when the moon is in the wain,
the monkies and marmosets . . . are sad and heavy, but the
new moone they adore and joy at, which they testifie by
hopping and dancing. PLINY THE ELDER
Natural History (c. 77). Trans. Philemon Holland (1601)
THE MOON'S MEN
FALSTAFF : Now, Hal, what time of day is it Lad ?
PRINCE : . . . . What a divell hast thou to do with the
time of the day ? unlesse houres were cups of Sacke,
and minutes Capons, and clockes the tongues of Bawdes,
MP 353
and dialls the signes of Leaping-Houses, and the blessed
Sunne himselfe a faire hot Wench in Flame-coloured
Taffata ; I see no reason, why thou shouldest bee so super-
fluous, to demaund the time of the day.
FAL. : Indeed you come neere me now Hal, for we that
take Purses, go by the Moone and seven Starres, and not
by Phoebus hee, that wand'ring Knight so faire. And I
prithee sweet Wagge, when thou art King ... let not us
that are Squires of the Nights bodie, bee call'd Theeves of
the Dayes beautie. Let us be Dianaes Forresters, Gentle-
men of the Shade, Minions of the Moone ; and let men
say, we be men of good Government, being governed as
the Sea is, by our noble and chast mistris the Moone,
under whose countenance we steale.
PRINCE : Thou say'st well, and it holds well too : for the
fortune of us that are the Moones men, doeth ebbe and
flow like the Sea, being governed as the Sea is, by the
Moone : as for proofe. Now a Purse of Gold most reso-
lutely snatch'd on Monday night, and most dissolutely
spent on Tuesday Morning ; got with swearing, Lay by,
and spent with crying, Bring in : now, in as low an ebbe
as the foot of the Ladder, and by and by in as high a flow
as the ridge of the Gallowes.
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
Henry IV, Part I (1596)
(Edition 1623)
HONEY
Take hony at the chaungyng of the moon.
Book of St. Albans (1486)
354
MOON-SPECULATIONS
I am surpriz'd, said the Countess, that there should be so
little mystery in Eclipses and that the whole World should
not know the Cause of 'em. Nor ever will, said I, as some
People go about it. In the East Indies, when the Sun and
Moon are in Eclipse ... the Rivers are cover'd with the
Heads of Indians, who are up to the Neck in Water,
because they esteem it a very devout Posture, to implore
the Sun and the Moon to defend themselves against the
Devil. In America they are persuaded that the Sun and the
Moon, when eclipsed, are angry, and what is it they will
not do to be reconciled with them ? The Greeks, who were
so refin'd, did they not believe the Moon was enchanted,
and that the Magicians forc'd her to descend from Heaven,
and shed a dangerous juice on the Plants ? . . .
But what do you think, said she, of the People in the
Moon, are they as afraid of an Eclipse as we are ? It would
be very burlesque for the Indians there to be up to the
Neck in Water ; that the Americans should believe the
Earth angry with them ; the Greeks fancy we were
bewitch'd, and would destroy their Plants ; in short, that
we should cause the same Consternation among them, as
they do here. And why not, said I ? I do not doubt it at
all ; for why should the People of the Moon have more
Wit than we ? For my part, I believe that since a prodig-
ious company of Men have been and still are such Fools
to adore the Moon, there are People in the Moon that
worship the Earth, and that we are upon our knees the
one to the other. . . .
I am going to tell you one of the agreeable Follies of
Ariosto, and I am confident you will be well pleas'd to hear
it : I must confess he had better have let alone St John,
355
whose Name is so worthy of Respect, but 'tis a Poetical
License, and must be allowed. . . . Astolfo a Knight Errant,
finding himself one day in the terrestrial Paradise, which
was on the top of a very high Mountain, whereto he was
carry'd by his flying Horse, meets Si John there, who tells
him ... he must make a Voyage with him into the Moon.
Astolfo, who had a great mind to see Countrys, did not
stand much upon entreaty, and immediately there came a
fiery Chariot, which carry'd the Apostle and the Knight up
into the Air ; Astolfo being no great Philosopher, was
surpriz'd to find the Moon so much bigger than it
appear'd to him when he was upon the Earth ; to see
Rivers, Seas, Mountains, Cities, Forrests, nay, what
would have surpriz'd me too, Nymphs hunting in those
Forrests ; but that which was most remarkable, was a
Valley where you might find any thing that was lost in our
World, of what Nature so ever ; Crowns, Riches, Fame,
and an infinity of Hopes, the time we spend in Play, and
in searching for the Philosophers stone, the Alms we give
after our Death, the Verses we present to great Men and
Princes, and the Sighs of Lovers ... I assure you the Moon
keeps all safe that is lost here below . . . everything is
there, even to the donation of Constantine, i.e. the Popes
have pretended to be Masters of Rome and Italy by Virtue
of a Donation which the Emperour Constantine made
Sylvester; and the truth is, no body knows what is become
of it ; but what do you think is not to be found in the
Moon ? Folly, all that ever was upon the Earth is kept
there still, but in lieu of it, it is not to be imagined how
many Wits (if I may so call 'em) that are lost here, are got
up into the Moon, they are so many Vials full of a very
subtile Liquor, . . . and upon every one of these Vials the
Names are written to whom the Wits belong'd. . . .
One of these days there may be a Communication
between the Earth and the Moon, and who knows what
great Advantages we may procure by it ? Do but consider
America before it was discovered by Columbus, how pro-
foundly ignorant were those People, they knew nothing
at all of Arts or Sciences, they went naked, had no other
Arms but a Bow and Arrows, and did not conceive they
might be carry'd by Animals. . . . The unheard of and
most surprizing Sight appears, vast great Bodies, with
white Wings, are seen to fly upon the Sea, to vomit Fire
from all Parts, and to cast upon their Shoars an unknown
People, all scaled with Iron, who dispose and govern
Monsters as they please ; carry Thunder in their Hands,
and destroy whoever resists 'em. ... Do but consider,
Madam, the surprize of the Americans, there can be
nothing greater ; and after this, shall any one say there
shall never be a Communication between the Moon and
the Earth. . . .
Since then there are no Vapours thick enough, nor no
Clouds of Rain about the Moon, farewell Dawn, adieu
Rainbow ! What must Lovers do for Similies in that
Countrey, when such an inexhaustible Magazine of
Comparisons is taken from them ?
I doubt not, said the Countess, but there are those in
the Moon as good at Similyas the greatest Beau in Covent-
Garden-, and had they neither Sun nor Stars, Pearls
nor Rubies, Roses nor Lillies, yet could say as many fine
things to a Visor-Mask, as the pertest Wit at the Puppet
Show. . . . How glorious are their days, the Sun continu-
ally shining ! How pleasant their Nights, not the least
Star is hid from them ! . . . You are describing the Moon,
/ reply* d, like an enchanted Palace ; but do you think it
is so pleasant to have a scorching Sun always over our
357
Heads, and not the least Cloud to moderate its Heat? Tho'
I fancy 'tis for this reason that Nature hath made great
Cavities in the Moon ; . . . what do we know but the
Inhabitants of the Moon, being continually broil'd by the
excessive heat of the Sun, do retire into those great Wells ;
perhaps they live no where else, and 'tis there they build
'em Cities ; . . . 'Tis no matter, said the Countess, I can
never suffer the Inhabitants of the Moon to live in per-
petual darkness. You will be more concern'd for 'em,
I reply'd, when I tell you that one of the ancient Phil-
osophers did long since discover the Moon to be the
abode of the blessed Souls departed out of this Life, and
that all their Happiness consisted in hearing the Harmony
of the Spheres ; that is the Musick (I had like io have said
Noise) which is made by the motion of the Celestial
Bodies ; if you have seen a Raree Show, you will easily
comprehend it. ... He tells you, that when the Moon is
obscur'd by the shadow of the Earth, they no longer hear
the Heavenly Musick, but howl like so many Souls in
Purgatory ; so that the Moon taking pity of 'em, makes all
the haste she can to get into the Light again.
BERNARD DE FONTENELLE
A Plurality of Worlds (1686)
Trans. John Glanvill (1688)
Well, Madam, said /, I have great News for you ; that
which I told you last Night, of the Moon's being in-
habited, may not be so now : There is a new Fancy got
into my Head, which puts those People in great Danger.
I cannot suffer it, said she ; yesterday you were preparing
me to receive a Visit from 'em, and now there are no such
People in Nature : Once you would have me believe the
358
Moon was inhabited ; I surmounted the Difficulty I had
and will now believe it. ... Methinks I have a strang<
inclination for 'em, and would not have 'em destroyed, i
it were possible to save 'em. You know, Madam, said 1
I can deny you nothing ; the Moon shall no longer be
Desart, but to do you service, we will repeople her. . . .
Ibia
DREAMS AT THE NEW MOON
Another way is, to Charm the Moon thus ; At the firs
appearance of the new Moon after New-year's Day, g
out in the Evening, and stand over the Sparrs of a Gate
or Stile, looking on the Moon and say,
All Hail to the Moon, all Hail to thee,
I prithee good Moon reveal to me,
This Night, who my Husband (wife) must be,
You must presently after go to Bed.
I knew two Gentlewomen that did this when they wer
young Maids, and they had Dreams of those that Marrie
them.
JOHN AUBREY, Miscellanies (169*
THE MOON SINGS
The Moon, in her pride, once glanced aside
Her eyes and espied the day ;
As unto his bed, in wastcoat of red,
Faire Phoebus him led the way ;
359
Such changes of thought, in her chastitie wrought,
That thus she besought the boy,
0 tarry, and marry the Starry Diana,
That will be thy Jem and Joy.
1 will be as bright at noon as at night,
If that may delight the day ;
Come hither and joine thy glories with mine.
Together we'el shine for aye.
The night shall be noon, and every moon
As pleasant as June or May ;
O tarry, and marry the Starry Diana,
That will be thy Jem and Joy.
Enamour'd of none, I live chast and alone,
Though courted of one, some say ;
And true if it were so frivolous feare
Let never my dear dismay ;
Fie change my opinion, and turne my old Minion,
The Sleepy Endimion away,
O tarry, and Marry the Starry Diana,
That will be thy Jem and Joy.
And but that the night, should have wanted her
light,
Or lovers in sight should play,
Or Phoebus should shame to bestow such a dame
(With a dow'r of his flame) on a Boy,
Or day should appear, eternally here,
And night otherwhere, the day
Had tarry'd and marry'd the starry'd Diana,
And she been his Jem and Joy.
ANON
The Moons Love* (Westminster Drollery, 1672)
360
LEAPING OVER THE MOON
I saw new Worlds beneath the Water lye,
New Peeple ; yea, another Sky . . .
Just such another
Of late my Brother
Did in his Travel see, and saw by Night,
A much more strange and wondrous Sight ;
Nor could the World exhibit such another
So Great a Sight, but in a Brother. . . ,
As he went tripping o'r the King's high-way,
A little pearly River lay
O'r which, without a Wing
Or Oar, he dar'd to swim,
Swim throu the Air
On Body fair ;
He would not, use nor trust Icarian wings
Lest they should prov deceitful tilings ;
For had he fain, it had been wondrous high,
Not from but from abov, the Sky ;
He might have dropt throu that thin Element
Into a fathomless Descent ;
Unto the nether Sky
That did beneath him ly,
And there might tell
What wonders dwell,
On Earth abov. Yet doth he briskly run,
And bold the Danger overcom ;
Who, as he leapt, with Joy related soon
How happy he o'r-leapt the Moon. . . .
As much as others thought themselvs to ly
Beneath the Moon, so much more high
Himself he thought to fly
Abov the starry Sky,
As that he spy'd
Below the Tide . . .
Thus did he yield me in the shady Night
A wondrous and instructiv Light,
Which taught me that under our Feet there is,
As o'r our Heads, a Place of Bliss.
To the same purpos ; he, not long before
Brought home from Nurse, going to the door
To do som little thing
He must not do within,
With Wonder cries,
As in the Skies
He saw the Moon, O yonder is the Moon
Newly com after me to Town,
That shin'd at Lugwardin but yesternight^
Where I enjoy'd the self-same Light.
THOMAS TRAHERNE
On Leaping over the Moon : Poems of Felicity
(? 1656-66)
THE MAN IN THE MOON
For this man affirmeth that the thing, which we call the
face in the Moone, are the images and figures of the great
ocean, represented in the Moone as in a mirrour. . . .
362
And the full Moone her selfe is, for evennesse, smooth-
nesse, and lustre, the most beautifull and purest mirrour
in the world. . . .
The figure of the Ocean
is just resembled here
In flaming mirrour, when great waves
it doth against it reare. . . .
As to that dull and slowe course of hers, that weake and
feeble heat. . . . unto what shall we attribute the same, if
not to her imbecilitie, in case an eternall and heavenly
body can be subject unto any such passion.
PLUTARCH
Morals : Of the Face appearing in the Roundle of the
Moone
Trans. Philemon Holland (1603)
STRANGE EFFECT ON WOMEN
In Yorkeshire the country woemen doe still Jiailst the
new mewne, . . . they kneel with their bare knees on a
grownd-fast stene and say all haile etc. The moon hath a
greater influence on woemen than on men.
JOHN AUBREY
Remaines of Gentilisme andjudaisme (1687)
363
MAKING A FUSS
A LADY RISES
LADY : Hoe ! who is in the inner Chamber ? how now,
Maidens, heere you not ? are you deafe ?
PRUDENCE : I am heere Madam.
LADY : Why do you suffer me to sleepe so long ? I am
ashamed of myself truely.
PRUDENCE : I came heather soft and faire, once or twice,
to see if you were awaked, and seeing you a sleepe I durst
not awake you, but it is not so late as you thinkc.
LADY : What is it a clocke ?
PRUDENCE : It is but halfe an houre past seaven.
LADY : What is it so farre day ? Oh God ! I went to bed
yesternight so timely, thinking to rise this morning, at
the farthest at 6 a clock : now I verifie in me the grave
speeches of that great Philosopher, the Emperor Marc.
Aur. speaking of the unsatiableness of mankinde, when
he said (among other things) the more I sleep, the more
I would sleep. Go too go too, draw the windowe Cur-
taines : call my page, let him bring some wood to my
Chamber doore, make a fier quickly, that I may rise . . .
LADY : God ! how long you make me tarrye ! Kindle the fire
364
quickly, warme my smocke and give it to me. Where is
Joly ? Call her :
PRUDENCE : She commeth Madame. Mistress Jolye, My
Ladye calleth you in great hast : . . .
LADY : Will you keepe me heere all the day ? Where be
all my thinges ? Goe fetch my cloathes : bring my petty-
coate bodyes : I meane my damask quilt bodies with
whale bones, what lace doe you give me heere ? this lace
is too shorte, the tagges are broken, I cannot lace myselfe
with it, take it away, I will have that of greene silke : when
shall I have my undercoate ? Give me my peticoate of
wroughte Crimson velvet with silver fringe : why doe you
not give me my nightgowne ? For I take colde : where be
my stockens ? Give me some cleane sockes, I will have no
woorsted hosen, showe me my Carnation silk stockins :
where laid you last night my gaiters ? Take away these
slippers, give me my velvet pantofles ; send for the shoo-
maker that he may have again these turn-over shooes, for
they be too high. Put on my white pumpes ; set them up
I will have none of them : Give me rather my Spanish
leather shooes, for I will walke to-day, . . . Tye the strings
with a strong double knot, for feare they untye them-
selves : Jolye, come dresse my head, set the Table further
from the fire, it is too neere. Put my chayre in his place.
Why doe you not set my great looking glasse on the table ?
It is too high, set the supporter lower. Undoe my night
attire : Why doe you not call the Page to warme the
rubbers ? let him be called : heere sirra warme that, and
take heede you burne it not. I praye you Jolye rubbe well
my head, for it is very full of dandrife, are not my combes
in the case ? Combe me with the boxen combe : Give me
first my combing cloth, otherwise you will fill me full of
haires, the haires will fall upon my cloathes, Combe
365
backeward, O God ! you combe too harde, you scratch
me, you pull out my hayres, can you not untangle them
softly with your handes before you put the combe to it ?
JOLYE : Will it please you to rise up a little Madame ? For
your haires are so long, that they trayle on the ground.
LADY : My daughter Fleurimonde is like me in that, hath
she not fayre haires, what say you of it ?
JOLYE : Truly Madame she hath the fayrest, the longest
flaxen-couler haires that one can see, there needeth no
curling of them, for they are curled of themselves. In
truth she hath the fayrest head of haires that ever I sawe.
LADY : I like her the better for it, it is a thing verye comely
for a woman, and as Saint Paul saith, It is an Ornament
unto her, but whilst we prattle, we forget that the time
goeth away : go too, I am combed enough. Page take the
combe-brushes, and make cleane my combes, take heed
you doe not make them cleane with those that I use to
my head : take a quill to take away the filth from them,
and then put them in the case, that none be missing : go
too, make an end of dressing my head.
JOLYE : What doth it please you to weare to-day Ma-
dame ? Will it please you to weare your haires onely, or
els to have your French whood ? . . .
LADY : Set up then my French whood and my Border of
Rubies, give me an other head attyre : take the key of my
closet, and goe fetch my long boxe where I set my Jewels
(for to have them out) that I use to weare on my head,
what is become of my wyer ? Where is the haire-cap ?
Have you any ribans to make knots ? Where be the laces
for to bind my haires ? Go too Page, give me some water
to wash, where's my muske ball ? Give me rather my
paste of Almonds, for it scoureth better : where is my
366
piece of Scarlet to wipe my face ? Give me that napkin :
now set on my Carkenet of precious stones : call my
Taylor to bring my gowne, not the close one, but my
open gowne of white Sattin layd on with buttons of
Pearle. Prudence, give me my bracelets of Aggathes :
Shall I have no vardingale ? You remember nothing, you
have a Coneyes memorye, you lose it in running, go too
you head-braine fellowe, Page hear you ? You doe but
playe the foole, doe you not see that I want my buske ?
what is become of the buske-poyne ?
JOLYE : What dooth it please you to have Madame, a ruffe
band or a Rebato ?
LADY : Let me see that ruffe, How is it that the supporter
is so soyled ? I knowe not for what you are fit, that you
cannot so much as to keep my cloathes cleane : I beleeve
that the meanest woman in this towne, hath her apparel
in better order then I have : take it away give me my
Rebato of cut-worke edged, is not the wyer after the same
sorte as the other ? It is a great wonder if it be any thing
better, Me think it is now time that you should know
how to serve. Is there no small pinnes for my Cuffes ?
Looke in the pinne-cushen. Pinne that with a blacke pinne,
give me my girdle and see that all the furniture be at it :
looke if my Cizers, the pincers, the pen-knife, the knife
to close Letters, with the bodkin, the ear-picker, and my
Scale be in the case : where is my pursse to weare upon
my gowne ? And see that my silver Comfet box be full
of Comfets : have I a cleane handkercher ? I will have no
Muffe, for it is not colde, but shall I have no gloves ?
Bring my maske and my fanne. Help me to put on my
Chayne of pearles. Page come hether, goe to my Ladye
of Beau-Sejour, have me most humblye commended unto
her, and tell her that if she have not greater busines, if it
367
pleaseth her to take the paines to come and dyne with us,
and bring with her, her sister, Mistresse Du-Pont-Gailliard,
they shall be most hartilie welcome, and whome so ever
it shall please them to bring with them, and we will do
something this afternoone for to recreate us and passe the
time : goe your wayes, bring me an answer forthwith :
and you Prudence set up all my night-geare, put them in
the cushen cloath, dresse my chamber, and then goe aske
Mistresse Clemence (my Daughters Mistresse) if they be
readye ? Bid her bring with her to me in the galleris,
Fleurimonde and Chariot with their worke. Jolye come with
me, carye with you my prayer-booke and my Psalter, first
goe to the boyes chamber, see if they be readie : come
againe by and by, to the end that I be not alone, you shall
finde me in the gallerie. PIERRE ERONDELL
The French Garden (1605)
MAKING MERRY
DRINK AND BE MERRY
Let us drink and be merry, dance. Joke and Rejoice.,
With Claret and Sherry, Theorbo and Voice,
The changeable World to our Joy is unjust,
All Treasure uncertain, then down with your dust.
In Frollicks dispose your pounds, shillings, and pence,
For we shall be nothing a hundred year hence.
368
Wee'l kiss and be free with Nan, Betty and Philly,
Have Oysters, and Lobsters, to cure M aids Belly ;
Fish-Dinners will make a Lass spring like a Flea,
Dame Venus (Love's Godess) was born of the sea.
With her and with Bacchus wee'll tickle the sense,
For we shall be past it a hundred year hence.
THOMAS JORDAN
The Epicure. Sung by one in the habits of a Town
Gallant (1675)
AT VAUXHALL
But Lord ! to see how my nature could not refrain from
the temptation ; but I must invite them to Foxhall, to
Spring Gardens, though I had freshly received minutes
of a great deal of extraordinary business. However, I
could not help it. ... So here I spent 2os. upon them,
and were pretty merry. Among other things, had a fellow
that imitated all manner of birds, and dogs, and hogs, with
his voice, which was mighty pleasant. Staid here till night.
SAMUEL PEPYS
Diary (May 29, 1666)
IN THE WINE-CELLAR
His chaplain, Dr Lushington, was a very learned and in-
geniose man, and they loved one another. The bishop some-
times would take the key of the wine-cellar, and he and his
chaplaine would goe and lock themselves in and be merry.
369
Then first he layes downe his episcopal! hat3 — " There
lyes the Dr." Then he putts of his gowne, — " There lyes
the Bishop." Then 'twas,—" Here's to thee, Corbet," and
" Here's to thee, Lushington." JOHN AUBREY
Brief Lives : Richard Corbet (c. 1680)
AT OXFORD
Allsouls day, soldiers and trumpeters with Leopold Finch,
warden of Allsouls, in the dining roome next to the street
all the afternoon till about 9 at night, drinking healths
and every health they sounded — the English church then
languishing. What ! Are the Oxonian scholars mad ? to
revel it ; drink and eat ; frequent taverns, alehouses, coffee-
houses ; be debonare — when the church layes languishing.
ANTHONY WOOD, Life and Times (Nov. 2, 1679)
AT BRIGHTHELMSTONE
At Brighthelmstone ... in the year 1808, Hobhouse,
Scrope Davies, Major Cooper and myself, having dined
together with Lord Delvin, Count (I forget the french
Emigrant nomenclature) and others, did about the middle
of the night (we four) proceed to a house of Gambling,
being then amongst us possest of about twenty guineas
of ready cash. . . . We lost them, returning home in bad
humour. Cooper went home, Scrope and Hobhouse and I
(it being high Summer) did firstly strip and plunge into
the sea, whence after half an hour's swimming ... we
370
emerged in our dressing-gowns to discuss a bottle or two
of Champaigne and Hock (according to choice) at our
quarters. In course of this discussion, words arose ;
Scrope seized H. by the throat ; H. seized a knife in self-
defence, and stabbed Scrope in the shoulder to avoid being
throttled. Scrope fell bathed in blood and wine — for the
bottle fell with him — being infinitely intoxicated with
Gaming, Sea-bathing at two in the morning, and Supple-
mentary Champaigne. ... At length, with many oaths and
some difficulty, he was gotten to bed.
LORD BYRON, Detached Thoughts (1821-2)
MAY-GAMES
SPUDEUS : But what ? Be there any abuses in their Maie-
games like unto these :
PHILOPONUS : As many as in the other. The order of them
is thus : Against Maie, Whitsondaie, or some other tyme
of the yeare, every Parishe, Towne, and Village, assemble
themselves together, bothe men, women, and children,
olde and yong, even all indifferently ; and either goyng
all together, or devidyng themselves into companies, they
goe some to the woodes and groves, some to the hilles
and Mountaines, some to one place, some to an other,
where they spende all the night in pleasant pastymes, and
in the mornyng they returne, bringing with them Birch,
Bowes, and braunches of Trees, to deck their assemblies
withall : And no marvaile, for there is a great lord present
amongst them, as superintendent and Lorde over their
pastymes and sportes : namely, Sathan, Prince of Hell.
But their cheefest Jewell they bring from thence is their
371
Male poole, which they bring home with greate venera-
tion, as thus : They have twentie or fourtie yoke of Oxen,
every Oxe havyng a sweete Nosegaie of flowers tyed on the
tippe of his homes, and these Oxen drawe home this Maie
poole (this stinckyng Idoll rather), which is covered all
over with Flowers and Hearbes, bounde rounde aboute
with stringes, from the top to the bottome, and some-
tyme painted with variable colours, with twoo or three
hundred men, women, and children followyng it, with
greate devotion. And thus beyng reared up, with hand-
kercheifes and flagges streamyng on the toppe, they strawe
the grounde aboute, binde greene boughes about it, sett
up Sommer Haules, Bowers, and Arbours hard by it; and
then fall they to banquet and feast, to leape and daunce
aboute it, as the Heathen people did at the dedication of
their Idolles, whereof this is a perfect patterne, or rather
the thyng it self. . . .
Assuredly, I thinke neither Jewes nor Turkes, Sarasins,
nor Pagans, nor any other people, how wicked or
barbarous soever, have ever used such devilish exercises
as these ; naie, they would have been ashamed, once to
have named them, muche lesse to have used them : yet wee
that would bee Christians thinke them not amisse. The
Lorde forgive us, and remove them from us !
PHILIP STUBBES
The Anatomic of Abuses (1583)
AUGUST
It is now August . . . now beginne the Gleaners to follow
the Corne Cart, and a little bread to a great deale of
372
drinke makes the Travailers dinner : the Melowne and the
Cucumber is now in request : and Oyle and vinegar give
attendance on the Sallet hearbes : the Alehouse is more
frequented then the Taverne . . . and in the fayre Rivers,
swimming is a sweet exercise : the Bow and the Bowie pick
many a purse, and the Cockes with their heeles spume away
many a mans wealth : The Pipe and the Taber is now lus-
tily at worke, and the Lad and the Lasse will have no lead
on their heeles : the new Wheat makes the Gossips Cake,
and the Bride Cup is carried above the heads of the whole
Parish : the Furmenty pot welcomes home the Harvest
Cart, and the Garland of flowers crownes the Captaine of
the Reapers. Oh, tis the merry time, wherein honest
Neighbours make good cheere, and God is glorified in his
blessings on the earth. In summe, for that I find, I thus
conclude, I hold it the worlds welfare, and the earths
warming-pan.
NICHOLAS BRETON
Fantasticks (1626)
HARVEST HOME
Come Sons of Summer, by whose toile,
We are the Lords of Wine and Oile :
By whose tough labours, and rough hands,
We rip up first, then reap our lands.
Crown'd with the eares of come, now come.
And, to the Pipe, sing Harvest home ;
Come forth, my lord, and see the Cart
Drest up with all the Country Art , . .
373
The Horses, Mares, and frisking Fillies,
(Clad, all, in Linnen, white as Lillies)
The Harvest Swaines, and Wenches bound
For joy, to see the Hock-cart crown'd.
About the Cart, heare, how the Rout
Of Rurall Younglings raise the shout ;
Pressing before, some coming after,
Those with a shout, and these with laughter.
Some blesse the Cart ; some kisse the sheaves ;
Some prank them up with Oaken leaves
Well, on, brave boyes, to your Lords Hearth,
Glitt'ring with fire ; where, for your mirth,
Ye shall see first the large and cheefe
Foundation of your Feast, Fat Beefe : . . .
With Sev'rall dishes standing by,
As here a Custard, there a Pie,
And here all tempting Frumentie.
And for to make the merry cheere,
If smirking Wine be wanting here,
There's that, which drowns all care, stout
Beere
To the rough Sickle, and crookt Sythe,
Drink frollick boyes, till all be blythe. . . .
And, you must know, your Lords word's true,
Feed him ye must, whose food fils you,
And that this pleasure is like raine,
Not sent ye for to drowne your paine,
But for to make it spring againe.
ROBERT HERRICK
The Hock-Cart, or Harvest Home. Hesperides (1648)
374
MALE PLEASURES
RUNNING AND RAMBLING
GATTY : How I envy that Sex ! well ! we cannot plague
'em enough when we have it in our power for those
privileges which custom has allow'd 'em above us.
ARIANA : The truth is, they can run and ramble here, and
there, and every where, and we poor Fools rather think
the better of 'em.
GATTY : From one Play-house to the other Play-house,
and if they like neither the Play nor the Women, they seldom
stay any longer than the combing of their Perriwigs, or a
whisper or two with a Friend ; and then they cock their
Caps, and out they strut again. SIR GEORGE ETHEREGE
She wou'd if she cou'd (1668)
FEMALES
Women, while untainted by affectation, have a natural
cheerfulness of mind, tenderness, and benignity of heart,
which justly endears them to us, either to animate our
joys, or soothe our sorrows. LORD CHESTERFIELD
On Female Coxcombs (1737)
375
The spontaneous grace, the melting voice, and the sooth-
ing looks of a female.
ISAAC DISRAELI, Curiosities of Literature (1791-1823)
BUSY WIVES
They have all many wives, and the Lordes five fold to the
common sort : their wives never eate with their husbands,
nor among the men, but serve their husbandes at meales,
and after war des feede by themselves. Those that are past
their yonger yeares, make all their breade and drinke, and
worke their cotton beddes, and doe all else of service and
labour, for the men doe nothing but hunte, fish, play and
drinke, when they are out of the wars.
SIR WALTER RALEIGH, The Discoverie of Guiana (1596)
The Women of the Land of Jesso, who spend all their
time in dressing their Husbands Dinners and Suppers, and
painting their Lips and Eye-brows blue, only to please the
greatest Villains in the World.
B. DE FONTENELLE, A Plurality of Worlds (1686)
Trans. John Glanvill (1688)
HOUNDS
He makes mortal War with the Fox for committing Acts
of Hostility against his Poultry. He is very solicitous to
376
have his Dogs well descended of worshipfull Families, and
understands their Pedigree as learnedly as if he were a
Herald. ... He is both Cook and Physician to his Hounds.
. . . Nor is he less skilfull in Physiognomy, and from the
Aspects of their Faces, Shape of their Snouts, falling of
their Ears and Lips, and Make of their Barrells, will give a
shrewd Guess at their Inclinations, Partes, and Abilities,
and what Parents they are lineally descended from. . . .
He believes no Musick in the World is comparable to
a Chorus of their Voices, and that when they are well
match'd they will hunt their Partes as true at first Scent,
as the best Singers of Catches, that ever open'd in a
Tavern, that they understand the Scale as well as the best
Scholler . . . and that when he windes his Horn to them,
'tis the very same thing with a Cornet in a quire. . . .
Let the Hare take which Way she will, she selldom fails
to lead him at long running to the Alehouse, where he
meets with an Aftergame of Delight, in making up a
Narrative, how every Dog behav'd himself; which is
never done without long Dispute . . . and if there be
any Thing remarkable, to his Thinking, in it, he preserves
it to please himself, and, as he believes, all People els with,
during his naturall Life, and after leaves it to his Heirs
Male entail'd upon the Family, with his Bugle-Horn
and Seal-Ring. SAMUEL BUTLER
Characters : A Hunter (1667-69)
BAR ROOM
A glimpse through an interstice caught
Of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room around
377
the stove late of a winter night, and I unremark'd seated in
a corner,
Of a youth who loves me and whom I love, silently ap-
proaching and seating himself near, that he may hold me by
the hand,
A long while amid the noises of coining and going, of
drinking and oath and smutty jest,
There we two content, happy in being together, speaking
little, perhaps not a word. WALT WHITMAN
A Glimpse (1855)
STAG-PARTIES
He-festivals, with blackguard gibes, ironical license, bull-
dances, drinking, laughter. WALT WHITMAN
Song of Myself (1*55)
AT THE DRAGON AND THE LION
Thence we went to the Green Dragon, on Lambeth Hill
. . . and there we sang of all sorts of things . . . and after
that I played on my flageolet, and staid there till nine
o'clock, very merry and drawn on with one song after
another till it came to be so late. After that Sheply, Har-
rison and myself, we went towards Westminster on foot,
and at the Golden Lion, near Charing Cross, we went in
and drank a pint of wine, and so parted, and thence home,
where I found my wife and maid a-washing. I staid up till
the bell-man came by with his bell just under my window
378
as I was writing of this very line, and cried, " Past one of
the clock, and a cold, frosty, windy morning." I then went
to bed, and left my wife and the maid a-washing still.
SAMUEL PEPYS, Diary (Jan. 16, 1660)
A POST-CHAISE WITH A PRETTY WOMAN
In our way, Johnson strongly expressed his love of
driving fast in a post-chaise. " If [said he] I had no duties,
and no reference to futurity, I would spend my life in
driving briskly in a post-chaise with a pretty woman ;
but she should be one who could understand me, and
would add something to the conversation."
JAMES BOS WELL, Life of Johnson (1791)
A TAVERN WITH A WELL-DRESSED ONE
A well-dressed man may lead in a well-dressed woman to
any tavern in London. j^-j
ROUGHER SPORTS
Soft Recreations fit the Female-kind ;
Nature, for Man, has rougher Sports design'd
To wield the Sword, and hurl the pointed Spear ;
To stop, or turn the Steed, in full Career.
OVID, Art of Love (c. 2 B.C.)
Trans. William Congreve (1709)
379
DAUGHTERS OF HANDSOME WOMEN
Madame,
I have heard . . . that you are safely delivered of a
daughter. I am extreamly glad . . . tHat you have a daugh-
ter, for my opinion hath ever bin that I would have hand-
some Woemen have none but daughters, and I hope you
will have as many as your Mother hath had and will
have. . . .
LORD CONWAY
Letter to Countess of Devonshire (1640)
MALICE
BAITING GIBBON
You will be diverted to hear that Mr Gibbon has quar-
relled with me. He lent me his second volume in the
middle of November. I returne it with a most civil
panegyric. He came for more incense ; I gave it, but alas !
with too much sincerity ; I added, " Mr Gibbon, I am
sorry you should have pitched on so disgusting a subject
as the Constantinopolitan History. There is so much of
the Arians and Eunomians and semi-Pelagians ; and there
is such a strange contrast between Roman and Gothic
manners, and so little harmony between a Consul Sabinus
and a Ricimer, Duke of the Palace, that, though you have
380
written the story as well as it could be written, I fear few
will have patience to read it." He coloured ; all his round
features squeezed themselves into sharp angles ; he
screwed up his button-mouth, and rapping his snuff-box,
said, " It had never been put together before " — so welly
he meant to add — but gulped it. He meant so well,
certainly, for Tillement, whom he quotes on every page,
has done the very thing. I well knew his vanity, even about
his ridiculous face and person, but thought he had too
much sense to avow it so palpably.
HORACE WALPOLE
Letter to William Mason (1781)
LIBELLING POETS
For the libel you speak of, upon that most unwitty
Generation, the present Poets, I rejoyce in it with all my
Heart, and shall take it for a Favour if you will send me
a copy. He cannot want Wit utterly, that has a Spleen
to those Rogues, tho' never so dully express'd.
JOHN WILMOT, Earl of Rochester
Letter to Henry Savile (1678)
RIDICULING POETS
Byron always became gay when any subject afforded him
an opportunity of ridiculing poets ; he entered into it
con amove.
LADY BLESSINGTON
Journal of Conversation with Lord Byron (1834)
381
POOR FIELDING
Poor Fielding ! I could not help telling his sister that I
was equally surprised at and concerned for his continued
lowness. Had your brother, said I, been born in a stable,
or been a runner at a sponging-house, we should have
thought him a genius, and wished he had had the advan-
tage of a liberal education, and of being admitted into
good company.
SAMUEL RICHARDSON
Letter to Mrs Balfour (1754)
ANNOYING ENVIOUS MEN
Will. Prosper . . . makes it his business to join in Con-
versation with Envious Men. He points to such an hand-
som Young Fellow, and whispers that he is secretly mar-
ried to a Great Fortune : When they doubt, he adds Cir-
cumstances to prove it ; and never fails to aggravate their
Distress by assuring 'em that to his knowledge he has an
Uncle will leave him some Thousands. Will, has many
Arts of this kind to torture this sort of Temper, and de-
lights in it. When he finds them change colour, and say
faintly They wish such a Piece of News is true, he has the
Malice to speak, some good or other of every Man of
their Acquaintance.
The Reliefs of the Envious Man are those little Blem-
ishes and Imperfections, that discover themselves in an
Illustrious Character. It is matter of great Consolation to
an Envious Person, when a Man of Known Honour does
382
a thing Unworthy himself: You see an Envious
Man clear up his Countenance, if in the Relation of any
Man's Great Happiness in one Point, you mention his
Uneasiness in another. When he hears such a one is very
rich he turns Pale, but recovers when you add that he has
many Children.
RICHARD STEELE
Spectator (1711)
t CHARMED WITH SCANDAL
To your Business hereafter, but first lets have a Dance,
as Mr Bays says ... I found your three Letters full of
Wit and Humour. I was charm'd with the scandal you writ
in the first and enclosed in the last, viz. A — 's poem . . .
Certainly, since the Devil was Dumb, there never was
such a Poet.
WALTER MOYLE
Letter to John Dennis (1695)
HATING ONE'S COLLEAGUES
Grr — there go, my heart's abhorrence !
Water your damned flower-pots, do !
If hate killed men, Brother Lawrence,
God's blood, would not mine kill you !
At the meal we sit together :
Salve tibi ! I must hear
Wise talk of the kind of weather,
Sort of season, time of year : . . . .
383
Whew ! We'll have our platter burnished,
Laid with care on our own shelf !
With a fire-new spoon we're furnished.
And a goblet for ourself,
Rinsed like something sacrificial
Ere 'tis fit to touch our chaps —
Marked with L. for our initial !
(He, he ! There his lily snaps !) . . .
There's a great text in Galatians,
Once you trip on it, entails
Twenty-nine distinct damnations,
One sure, if another fails,
If I trip him just a-dying,
Sure of Heaven as sure can be,
Spin him round and send him flying
Off to Hell, a Manichee ?
ROBERT BROWNING
Soliloquy of the Spanish Cloister (1842)
SCORING OFF MAGICIANS
Simon Magus . . . having challenged St. Peter to doe
miracles with him, attempted to fly from the Capitoll to
the Aventine Hill. But when he was in the midst of the
way, St. Peters prayers did overcome his sorceries, and
violently bring him to the ground, in which fall having
broke his thigh, within a while after he died.
JOHN WILKINS
Mathematickall Magick (1648)
384
MARINE
NEPTUNE'S KINGDOM
Neptune sate in his Chariot High
Drawn by Six Hippopotami ; . . .
On tunefull Shells the Tritons playd,
The Winds and Storms to sleep were laid.
And a profound Peace o'r the Deep was spread.
Mermaids in melting streins their Voices try'd,
And Sea-Nymphs in soft Airs reply'd ;
That even rude Rocks and surly Seas took in the
Musick Pride.
Mountainous Whales before the Court were sent,
That mov'd all Lets out of the way ;
And, where the Road thro' Creeks or Inlets lay,
Shuffled up Isles into a Continent. . . .
Near these their Place did take
Sea-Elephants that on the Rocks do sleep,
That overlook the Deep ; . . .
The Sea-Mors, that's kill'd for his sovereign Horn,
And thought by some the onely Unicorn. . . .
The Dolphin, that in Musick doth delight,
And all surpasses in a speedy flight. . . .
NP 385
The Remora, the Wonder of the Sea,
That Ships even under sail can stay :
Small in his Bulk, but hoisting round their Keels,
No Waves or Tydes the Captive force away :
Whom Neptune did forbid to touch his Chariot-
Wheels. . . .
Within and round are shown
The Tombs of the Atlantian Kings :
Which of themselves are Stately things.
But by accession of Sea-Treasure Nobler gown.
Each common Stone
A Jaspis or a Hyacinth doth grow :
Mother of Pearl the common roads doth strow.
And ev'n Plebean Tombs do Sapphires show. . . .
A Band of Tritons upon Neptune wait,
And guard his Palace Gate,
And yet keep up the old Atlantian State.
The Castles and the Towns remain,
The Citties yet their Privileges retain :
Tritons do in the Nobles Houses stay,
And Sea-Nymphs in the Groves and Meadows
play
Hence Curiosity me led
To view the Neighbouring Sea :
Where 'tis with Green Sargossa spread.
And imitates a Flowry Mead ;
Doth the unwearied Eye to rove invite,
And every where gives Prospects of Delight :
Under whose Shade the harmless Fry,
No Fear nor Danger nigh,
Their Innocent Revels keep,
And deck with sparkling Pearly scales the Deep
386
Nor could I miss Cape Comori,
Where mounts of Fruitfull Shell-fish ly,
That Orient Pearls do in their womb contain.
Where the bold Indian jumps into the Main,
Doth down into the Shining Bottom Dive,
That needs no Light, but what the Pearls do
• ' • THOMAS HEYRICK
The Submarine Voyage (1691)
THE MUSICAL AND AFFECTIONATE DOLPHIN
The swiftest of al other living creatures whatsoever, and
not of sea-fish only, is the Dolphin, quicker than the
flying fowle, swifter than the arrow shot out of a bow. . . .
The Dolphin is a creature that carries a loving affection
not only unto man, but also to musicke : delighted he is
with harmony in song, but especially with the sound of
the water instrument, or such kind of pipes. Of a man he is
nothing aifraid, neither avoides from him as a stranger :
but of himsclfe meeteth their ships, plaieth and disportes
himselfe, and fetcheth a thousand friskes and gamboles
before them. He will swim along by the mariners, as it
were for a wager, who should make way most speedily,
and alwaies outgoeth them, saile they with never so good
a fore- wind.
In the daies of Augustus Ceasar the Emperour, there was
a Dolphin entred the gulfe or poole Lucrinus, which
loved wondrous well a certain boy a poore mans son ; who
using to goe every day to schoole from Baianum to
Puteoli, was woont also about noone-tide to stay at the
water side, and to call unto the Dolphin, Simo, Simo, and
387
many times would give him fragements of bread, which of
purpose he ever brought with him, and by this meanes
allured the Dolphin to come ordinarily unto him at his call.
(I would make scruple and bash to insert this tale in my
storie and to tell it out, but that Mecenas Fabianus, Flavins
Alfius, and many others have set it downe for a truth in
their chronicles.) Well in processe of time, at what houre
soever of the day this boy lured for him and called Simo,
were the Dolphin never so close hidden in any secret or
blind corner, out he would and come abroad, yea and skud
amaine to this lad ; and taking bread and other victuals at
his hand, would gently offer him his back to mount upon,
and then downe went the sharp pointed prickles of his fins,
which he would put up as it were within a sheath for fear
of hurting the boy. Thus when he had him once on his
back, he would carry him over the broad arme of the sea
as farre as Puteoli to schoole ; and in like manner convey
him back again home : and thus he continued for many
yeeres together, so long as the child live. But when the
boy was fallen sicke and dead, yet the Dolphin gave not
over his haunt, but usually came to the wonted place, and
missing the lad, seemed to be heavie and mourne again,
until for very griefe and sorrow (as it doubtles to be pre-
sumed) he also was found dead upon the shore
But there is no end of examples in this kinde : for the
Amphilochians and Tarentines testifie as much, as touch-
ing Dolphins which have bin enamoored of little boies :
which induceth me the rather to beleeve the tale that goes
of Arion. This Avion being a notable musitian and plaier
of the harpe, chanced to fall into the hands of certain
mariners in the ship where he was, who supposing that he
had good store of money about him, which he had gotten
with his instrument, were in hand to kill him and cast him
388
over boord for the said monie ... he, seeing himselfe at
their devotion and mercie, besought them in the best
manner that he could devise to suffer him yet before he
died, to play one fit of mirth with his harpe ; which they
granted : (at his musicke and sound of harpe, a number
of Dolphins came flocking about him :) which done, they
turne him over shipbord into the sea ; where one of the
Dolphins tooke him upon his backe, and carried him safe
to the bay of Taenarus. PLINY Tm ELD£R
Natural History (c. 77)
Trans. Philemon Holland (1601)
TURTLE-SHELL BOATS
The Tyrian Merchant, or the Portuguese,
Can hardly build one Ship of many Trees :
But of one Tortoise^ when he list to float,
Th5 Arabian Fisher-man can make a boat.
JOSHUA SYLVESTER
Divine Weekes and Workes (1592)
Trans, from Guillaume Du Bartas
SUBMARINE PALACE
As large, as bright, as coloured as the bow
Of Iris, when unfading it doth show
Beyond a silvery shower, was the arch
Through which this Pathian army took its march
Into the outer courts of Neptune's state :
Whence could be seen, direct, a golden gate. . .
389
Far as the mariner on highest mast
Can see all round upon the calmed vast
So wide was Neptune's hall : and as the blue
Doth vault the waters, so the waters drew
Their doming curtains, high, magnificent,
Awed from the throne aloof; — and when storm-rent
Disclosed the thunder-gloomings in Jove's air ;
But, soothed as now, flash'd sudden everywhere
Noiseless sub-marine cloudlets, glittering
Death to a human eye : for there did spring
From natural west, and east, and south and north,
A light as of four sunsets, blazing forth
A gold-green zenith 'bove the Sea-God's head.
Of lucid depth the floor, and far outspread
As breezeless lake, on which the slim canoe
Of feather'd Indian darts about, as through
The delicatest air. . . .
They stood in dreams
Till Triton blew his horn. The palace rang
The Nereids danced ; the Syrens faintly sang. . . .
JOHN KEATS
Endymion (1818)
THE SEASON OF SAILING
This is the season for sailing. For already the twittering
swallow has come, and the pleasant west wind ; the mead-
ows are in flower, and the sea, broken lately by waves and
the rough gale, has become silent. Take up the anchors,
sailor, and let loose the ropes, and set sail, giving out the
390
whole canvas. This I, Priapus of the harbour, command,
that you, O man may set sail for all kinds of traffic.
Leonidas of Tarentum (3rd cent. B.C.)
Trans. George Burges
SATISFACTION TO SAILORS
This morning the King's Proclamation against drinking,
swearing, and debauchery, was read to our ships' compan-
ies in the fleet, and indeed it gives great satisfaction to all.
SAMUEL PEPYS, Diary (June 4, 1660)
MERMAIDS
Then, looking on the waters, I was ware
Of something drifting through delighted air,
— An isle of roses — and another near ; —
And more, on each hand, thicken, and appear
In shoals of bloom ; as in unpeopled skies
Save by two stars, more crowding lights arise,
And planets bud where'er we turn our mazed eyes.
I gaz'd unhinder'd : Mermaids six or seven,
Ris'n from the deeps to gaze on sun and heaven,
Cluster'd in troops and halo'd by the light,
Those Cyclads made that thicken'd on my sight —
Soon — as when Summer of his sister Spring
Crushes and tears the rare enjewelling,
And boasting " I have fairer things than these "
Plashes amidst the billowy apple-trees
His lusty hands, in gusts of scented wind
391
Swirling out bloom till all the air is blind
With rosy foam and pelting blossom and mists
Of driving vermeil-rain ; and, as he lists,
The dainty onyx-coronals deflowers,
A glorious wanton ; — all the wrecks in showers
Crowd down upon a stream, and jostling thick
With bubbles bugle-eyed, struggle and stick
On tangled shoals that bar the brook — a crowd
Of filmy globes and rosy floating cloud :
So those Mermaidens crowded to my rock,
And thicken'd, like that drifted bloom, the flock
Sun-flush'd, until it seem'd their father Sea
Had gotten him a wreath of sweet Spring-broidery.
Careless of me they sported : some would plash
The languent smooth with dimpling drops, and flash
Their filmy tails
Some, diving merrily, downward drove, and gleam Jd
With arm and fin ; the argent bubbles stream 'd
Airwards, disturb'd ; and the scarce troubled sea
Gurgled, where they had sunk, melodiously.
Others with fingers white would comb among
The drenched hair of slabby weeds that swung
Swimming, and languish'd green upon the deep
Down that dank rock o'er which their lush long
tresses weep.
But most in a half-circle watch 'd the sun ;
And a sweet sadness dwelt on everyone ;
I knew not why, — but know that sadness dwells
On Mermaids, whether that they ring the knells
Of seamen whelm 'd in chasms of the mid-main,
As poets sing ; or that it is a pain
To know the dusk depths of the ponderous sea,
The miles profound of solid green, and be
392
With loath'd cold fishes, far from man — or what ; —
I know the sadness but the cause know not.
Then they, thus rang'd, 'gan make full plaintively
A piteous Siren sweetness on the sea,
Withouten instrument, or conch, or bell,
Or stretch'd cords tunable on turtle's shell ;
Only with utterance of sweet breath they sung
An antique chaunt and in unknown tongue.
Now melting upward through the sloping scale
Swell'd the sweet strain to a melodious wail ;
Now ringing clarion-clear to whence it rose
Slumber'd at last in one sweet, deep, heart-broken close.
But when the sun had lapsed to Ocean, lo
A stealthy wind crept round seeking to blow,
Linger'd, then raised the washing waves and drench *d
The floating blooms and with tide flowing quench'd
The rosy isles : so that I stole away
And gain'd thro' growing dusk the stirless bay ;
White loom'd my rock, the water gurgling o'er,
Whence oft I watch but see those Mermaids now
no more.
GERALD MANLEY HOPKINS
A Vision of ttie Mermaids (1862)
MERMAIDS AND MERMEN
But above all, the Mermaids and Men-fish seem to me the
most strange fish in the waters. Some have supposed them
to be devils or spirits in regard of their whooping noise
that they make. For (as if they had power to raise extra-
ordinarie storms and tempests) the winds blow, seas rage,
393
and clouds drop, presently after they seem to call. Ques-
tionlesse natures instinct works in them a quicker insight,
and more sudden feeling and foresight of these things,
then is in man ; upon which we see even in other creatures
upon earth, as in fowls, who feeling the alteration of the
aire in their feathers and quills, do plainly prognosticate
a change of weather before it appeareth to us. And of
these not onely the poets, but others also have written.
The poets fein there were three Mermaids or Sirens ; in
their upper parts like maidens, and in their lower parts
fishes : which dwelling in the sea of Sicilie would allure
sailors to them, and afterwards devoure them ; being first
brought asleep with hearkening to their sweet singing.
Their names (they say) were Parthenope, Lygia, and
Leucasia ; wherefore sometime alluring women are said
to be Sirens. JOHN SWAN
Speculum Mundi (1635)
SEA NYMPHS
These Nymphs trick'd up in tyers, the Sea-gods to delight :
Of Corral of each kind, the blacke, the red, the white ;
With many sundry shels, the Scallop large and faire ;
The Cockle small and round, the Periwinkle spare,
The Oyster, wherein oft the pearle is found to breed,
The Mussell, which retaines that daintie Orient seed :
In Chaines and Bracelets made, with linkes of sundry
twists,
Some worne about their wa^ts, their necks, some on the
wrists.
Great store of Amber there, and Jeat they did not misse ;
394
Their lips they sweetned had with costly Ambergris
Now thus together com'n, they friendly doe devise.
Some of light toyes, and some of matters grave and wise.
But to breake off their speech, her reed when Syrinx sounds,
Some cast themselves in Rings, and fell to Hornepipe
rounds :
They ceasing, as againe to others turnes it falls,
They lustie Galiards tread, some other Jiggs, and Braules.
This done, upon the Banke together being set,
Proceeding in the cause, for which they first were met,
In mightie Neptunes praise, these Sea-borne Virgins
sing : . . .
Where is there one to him that may compared be,
That both the Poles at once continually doth see ;
And Gyant-like with heaven as often maketh warres ;
The Hands (in his power) as numberlesse as Starres,
He washeth at his will, and with his mightie hands
He makes the even shores oft mountainous with Sands :
Whose creatures, which observe his wide Emperiall seat,
Like his immeasured selfe, are infinite and greate.
Thus ended they their Song, and off th' Assembly
brake.
MICHAEL DRAYTON, Poly-Oibion. Song XX (1622)
SAILING TO THE GUITAR
I have a boat here ... it is swift and beautiful, and
appears quite a vessel. Williams is captain, and we drive
along in this delightful bay in the evening wind under the
summer moon until earth appears another world. Jane
brings her guitar, and if the past and future could be
395
obliterated, the present would content me so well that I
could say with Faust to the passing moment, " Remain,
thou art so beautiful." p B SHELLEY
Letter to John Gisbome (Lend, 1822)
HAPPINESS OF SAILORS
BOSWELL : " Yet sailors are happy." JOHNSON : " They
are happy as brutes are happy, with a piece of fresh meat,
—with the grossest sensuality." JAMES BOSWELL
Life of Johnson (1791)
FORESTS OF THE SEA
The world below the brine.
Forests at the bottom of the sea, the branches and leaves,
Sea-lettuce, vast lichens, strange flowers and seeds, the
thick tangle, openings, and pink turf,
Different colors, pale gray and green, purple, white, and
gold, the play of light through the water,
Dumb swimmers there among the rocks, coral, gluten,
grass, rushes, and the aliment of the swimmers,
Sluggish existences grazing there suspended, or slowly
crawling close to the bottom,
The sperm-whale at the surface blowing air and spray,
or disporting with his flukes,
The leaden-eyed shark, the walrus, the turtle, the hairy
sea-leopard, and the sting-ray. . . . WALT WHITMAN
The World below the Brine. Sea-Drift (1860)
396
MATHEMATICAL
A THOUSAND ADVANTAGES
Whereas Mathematicks improves all our Faculties, makes
the Judgment stronger, and the Memory take in more. The
Dull it teaches to perceive, and the Giddy to Attend. It
distinguishes between True and False, and enures us to
Difficulties : Besides, it gives us a thousand Advantages in
Life. By this the Miser counts his Bags, and the Country-
man knows his Times and Seasons. This gives our Can-
non aim in War, and in Peace furnishes every Workman
with his Tools. How many noble Engines has it invented ?
In one the Wind labours for us, and another turns Bogs
and Pools into firm Land. This builds us Houses, defends
our Towns, and makes the Sea useful. Nor are its effects
less wonderful than advantagious. The Mathematicks can
do more things than any Poet e'er yet conceiv'd. He in
a Map can contract Asia to a Span, and in a Glass shew
a City from a Single House, and an Army from a Man.
He can set the Heavens a thousand years forward, and call
all the Stars by their Names. There is scarce anything
without his reach ; He can gauge the Channel of the Sea,
and weigh Saturn. He sees farthest into the Art and
Skill of the Creator, and can write the best Comment
on the Six Days Work.
397
Be advis'd therefore to employ yourself rather in the
improving of your Understandings than debauching of
your Passions ... To my mind, to make a Dial is harder
than to find a Motto to it, and a Prospect drawn in Lines
pleasanter than one in Words. Instead of descriptions of
cool Groves and flowry Gardens, you may inform yourself
of the Situation and Extent of Empires, and while others
are wandring in Elysian-fields and fancy'd Shades below,
you may raise your Thoughts to the Infinity of Space
above, and visit all those Worlds that shine upon us
here . . . and mind little in Venus but her periodic Motion.
F. G. DE QUEVEDO
Trans. John Savage (1696)
ARCHIMEDES AND His SIREN
Archimedes had such a great minde, and was so profoundly
learned, having hidden in him the onely treasure and
secrets of Geometricall inventions : as he would never set
forth any booke how to make all these warlicke engynes,
which wanne him at that time the fame and glory, not of
mans knowledge, but rather of divine wisedom. But he
esteminge all kinde of handy craft and invention to make
engines, and generally all maner of sciences bringing
common commodity by the use of them, to be but vyle,
beggarly, and mercenary drosse : employed his witte and
study onely to write thinges, the beawty and subtiltie
whereof were not mingled any thinge at all with necessi-
tie. For all that he hath written, are geometricall pro-
posicions, which are without comparison of any other
writings whatsoever : bicause the subject whereof they
398
treate, doth appeare by demonstration, the matter giving
them the grace and the greatnes, and the demonstration
proving it so exquisitely, with wonderfull reason and facil-
itie . . . And therefore that me thinks is like enough to be
true, which they write of him ; that he was so ravished and
dronke with the swete intysements of this Sirene, which as
it were lay continually with him.
PLUTARCH
Lives (c. 100)
Trans. Sir Thomas North (1572)
IN LOVE WITH GEOMETRY
He [Hobbes] was 40 yeares old before he looked on geo-
metry ; which happened accidentally. Being in a gentle-
man's library . . . Euclid's Elements lay open, and 'twas
the 47 El. libri I. He read the proposition. " By G "
sayd he, " this is impossible ! " So he reads the demonstra-
tion of it, which referred him back to such a proposition ;
which proposition he read. That referred him back to
another, which he also read. Et sic deinceps, that at last
he was demonstratively convinced of that trueth. This
made him in love with geometry.
JOHN AUBREY
Brief Lives : Thomas Hobbes (c. 1680)
399
MATRIMONY
HAPPY NUPTIAL LEAGUE
So hand in hand they passd, the lovliest pair
That ever since in loves imbraces met,
Adam the goodliest man of men since born
His Sons, the fairest of her Daughters Eve.
Under a tuft of shade that on a green
Stood whispering soft, by a fresh Fountain side
They sat them down, and after no more toil
Of thir sweet Gardning labour then suffic'd
To recommend coole Zephyr, and made ease
More easie, wholsom thirst and appetite
More grateful, to thir Supper Fruits they fell,
Nectarine Fruits, which the compliant boughes
Yeilded them, side-long as they sat recline
On the soft downie Bank damaskt with flours :
The savourie pulp they chew, and in the rinde
Still as they thirsted scoop the brimming stream
Nor gentle purpose, nor endearing smiles
Wanted, nor youthful dalliance as beseems
Fair couple, linkt in happie nuptial League,
Alone as they. About them frisking playd
All Beasts of th'Earth, since wilde, and of all chase
In Wood or Wilderness, Forrest or Den ;
400
Sporting the Lion rampd, and in his paw
DandPd the Kid ; Bears, Tygers, Ounces, Pards
Gambold before them, th'unwieldy Elephant
To make them mirth us'd all his might, and
wreathd
His lithe Proboscis ;
JOHN MILTON
Paradise Lost, Book IV (1667)
PROLOGUE AND PLAY
BELINDA : Yes : You fluttering Men of the Mode have
made Marriage a meer French dish. . . . You are so curious
in the Preparation, that is, your Courtship, one wou'd
rhink you meant a noble Entertainment — But when we
come to feed, 'tis all Froth, and poor, but in show Nay,
often, only Remains, which have been I know not how
many times warm'd for other Company, and at last serv'd
up cold to the Wife.
BELLMOUR : But you timorous Virgins form a dreadful
Chimaera of a Husband, as of a Creature contrary to that
soft, pliant, easie thing, a Lover ; so guess at Plagues in
Matromony, in Opposition to the Pleasures of Courtship.
Alas ! Courtship to Marriage is but as the Musick in the
Play-Housc, 'till the Curtain's drawn ; but that once up,
then opens the Scene of Pleasure.
BELINDA : Oh, foh — no : Rather, Courtship to Marriage,
as a very witty Prologue to a very dull Play.
WILLIAM CONGREVE
The Old Batchelor (1693)
401
GREAT PLEASURE
At noon I home to dinner with my poor wife, with whom
now-a-days I enjoy great pleasure in her company and
learning of Arithmetique. SAMUEL PEPYS
Diary (Dec. i, 1663)
QUALIFYING FOR THE FLITCH
At last an hospitable House they found,
A homely Shed ; the Roof, not far from Ground,
Was thatch'd with Reeds and Straw, together bound.
There Baucis and Philemon liv'd, and there
Had liv'd long marry'd, and a happy Pair :
Now old in Love, though little was their Store, . . .
Command was none, where equal Love was paid,
Or rather both commanded, both obey'd . . .
Then thus the Sire of Gods, with Looks serene :
Speak thy Desire, thou only Just of Men ;
And thou, O Woman, only worthy found
To be with such a Man in Marriage bound.
A-while they whisper ; then, to Jove address'd,
Philemon thus prefers their joint Request : . . .
And since not any Action of our Life
Has been polluted with Domestick Strife ;
We beg one Hour of Death, that neither she
With Widow's Tears may live to bury me,
Nor weeping I, with wither'd Arms, may bear
My breathless Baucis to the Sepulcher.
The Godheads sign their Suit. They run the Race
402
In the same Tenour all th' appointed Space :
Then, when their Hour was come, while they relate
These past Adventures at the Temple Gate,
Old Baucis is by old Philemon seen
Sprouting with sudden Leaves of spritely green :
Old Baucis look'd where old Philemon stood.
And saw his lengthened Arms a sprouting Wood :
New Roots their fasten'd Feet begin to bind,
Their Bodies stiffen in a rising Rind :
Then, ere the Bark above their Shoulders grew,
They give and take at once their last Adieu.
At once. Farewell, O faithful Spouse, they said :
At once th' incroaching Rinds their closing Lips invade.
Ev'n yet, an ancient Tyranean shows
A spreading Oak, that near a Linden grows ;
The Neighbourhood confirm the Prodigy,
Grave Men, nor vain of Tongue, nor like to lye.
I saw myself the Garlands on their Boughs,
And Tablets hung for Gifts of granted Vows.
And, off 'ring fresher up, with pious Pray'r,
The Good, said I, are God's peculiar Care,
And such as honour Heav'n, shall heav'nly Honour
share.
OVID, Metamorphoses (c. 5 B.C.)
Trans. John Dry den (1700)
HARMONY
There is no happy life
But in a wife
The Comforts are so sweete
When they doe meete
403
Tis plenty Peace a Calme
Like Droping Balme
Loves wether is so fayre
Perfumed Aire
Each work such pleasure brings
Like soft toucht strings
Loves Passion moves the harte
On Eyther parte
Such harmony together
So pleasd in Eyther
No discords. Concords still
Seald with one will
By love, God, man, made one
Yett not alone
Like Stamps of Kinge, and Queene
Itt may be scene
Two figures but one Coyne
So they doe Joyne
Onely they not Imbrase
We face to face.
DUKE OF NEWCASTLE
The Phanseys : Loves Matremony (c. 1645)
'Tis HONOURABLE
I shou'd have persuaded you to Marriage, but to deal
ingeniously, I am a little out of Arguments that way at
present : 'Tis honourable, there's no question on't ; but
what more, in good Faith, I cannot readily tell.
SIR JOHN SUCKLING
Letter to a Cousin (1638)
404
ILL CHANCE
Which if it were so needfull before the fall, when man
was much more perfect in himselfe, how much more is
it needfull now against all the sorrows and casualties of life
to have an intimate and speaking help, a ready and reviv-
ing associate in marriage : whereof who misses by chanc-
ing on a mute and spiritles mate, remains more alone than
before — But this pure and more inbred desire of joyning
to it selfe in conjugall fellowship a fit conversing soul
(which desire is properly call'd love) is stronger than
death, as the spouse of Christ thought, many waters can-
not quench it^ neither can the floods drown it. This is that
rationall burning that marriage is to remedy, . . . which
how can he asswage who by mis-hap hath met the most
unmeetest and unsutable mind ? . . .
If he be such as hath spent his youth unblamably, and
layd up his chiefest earthly comforts in the enjoyment of a
contented marriage, . . . when he shall find himselfe bound
fast to an uncomplying discord of nature, or, as it oft
happens, to an image of earth and fleam, with whom he
lookt to be the co-partner of a sweet and gladsome society,
and sees withall that his bondage is now inevitable, though
he be almost the strongest Christian, he will be ready to
despair in vertue, and mutin against divine providence : and
this doubtless is the reason of those lapses and that melan-
choly despair which we see in many wedded persons,
though they understand it not, or pretend other causes. . . .
Did he open so to us this hazardous and accidental doore
of mariage to shut upon us like the gate of death without
retracting or returning, without permitting to change
the worst, most insupportable, most unchristian mis-
chance of mariage for all the mischiefes and sorrows that
405
can ensue, being an ordinance which was especially giv'n
as a cordiall and exhilarating cup of solace the better to
beare our other crosses and afflictions ? . . . .
So likewise the Apostle witnesseth, . . . that in mariage
God hath calVd us to peace. The rest whom either dispro-
portion or deadnesse of spirit, or something distastefull
and averse in the immutable bent of nature, renders un-
conjugall,error may have joyn'd,but God never joyn'd
For what kind of matrimony can that remain to be,
what one dutie between such can be perform'd as it
should be from the heart, when their thoughts and spirits
flie asunder as farre as heaven from hell : . . .
The same may be said touching those persons who
being of a pensive nature and cours of life, have sum'd up
all their solace in that free and lightsome conversation
which God and man intends in marriage : whereof when
they see themselves depriv'd by meeting an unsociable
consort, they oft-times resent one anothers mistake so
deeply, that long it is not ere griefe end one of them. . . .
JOHN MILTON
Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce (1643)
AUSTIN MISTAKEN
Austin contends that manly friendship in all other regards
had bin a more becoming solace for Adam, than to spend
so many secret years in an empty world with one woman.
But our Writers deservedly reject this crabbed opinion ;
and defend that there is a peculiar comfort in the maried
state besides the genial bed, which no other society
affords. . . . We cannot alwayes be contemplative, or
pragmaticall abroad, but have need of som delightfull
406
intermissions, wherin the enlarg'd soul may leav off a
while her severe schooling ; and like a glad youth in wand-
ring vacancy, may keep her holidaies to joy and harmles
pastime : which as she cannot well doe without company,
so in no company so well as where the different sexe in
most resembling unlikeness, and most unlike resemblance
cannot but please best. . . . Wisest Salomon among his
gravest Proverbs countenances a kinde of ravishment and
erring fondnes in the entertainment of wedded leisures ;
and in the Song of Songs, which is generally beleev'd, even
in the j oiliest expressions to figure the spousals of the
Church with Christ, sings of a thousand raptures between
those two lovely ones farre on the hither side of carnall
enjoyment. By these instances and more which might be
brought we may imagine how indulgently God provided
against man's loneliness. . . . But God is no deceitfull
giver, to bestow that on us for a remedy of loneliness,
which if it bring not a sociable minde as well as a con-
junctive body, leavs us no lesse alone than before ; and
if it bring a minde perpetually avers and disagreeable,
betraies us to a wors condition than the most deserted
lonelines. . . .
Therefore shall a man leav his father and his mother, and
shall cleav unto his wife ; and they shall be one flesh.
This vcrs, ... is the great knot tier, . . . this that greisly
Porter, who having drawn men and wisest men by subtle
allurement within the train of an unhappy matrimony,
claps the dungeon gate upon them, as irrecoverable as the
grave. But if we view him well, and hear him with not too
hasty and prejudicant ears, we shall finde no such terror
in him. . . . Cleav to a wife, but let her bee a wife, let her
be a meet help, a solace, not a nothing, not an adversary,
not a desertrice ; . . . Wee know that flesh can neither
407
joyn, nor keep together two bodies of it self; what is it
then, must make them one flesh, but likenes, but fitnes
of mind and disposition, which may breed the Spirit of
concord, and union between them ? If that be not in the
nature of either, and that there has bin a remediles mis-
take, as vain wee goe about to compell them into one flesh,
as if wee undertook to weav a garment of drie sand. . . .
JOHN MILTON, Tetrachordon (1645)
A MOVING THING
DORINDA : Mine offer'd Marriage.
MRS SULLEN : O lard I D'ye call that a moving thing ?
DOR. : The sharpest Arrow in his Quiver, my dear Sister.
... If I marry my Lord Aimwell, there will be Title, Place
and Precedence, the Park, the Play, and the drawing-
room, Splendor, Equipage, Noise, and Flambeaux. — Hey,
my Lady AimweWs Servants there — Lights, Lights to
the Stairs — My Lady AimweWs Coach put forward —
Stand by, make room for her Ladyship — Are not these
things moving ?
GEORGE FARQUHAR, The Beaux' Stratagem (1707)
^ INCOMPATIBILITY
MRS. SULLEN : Pray, Spouse, what did you marry for ?
SULLEN : To get an Heir to my Estate.
SIR CHARLES : And have you succeeded ?
SUL. : No.
408
ARCHER : The Condition fails of his side. — Pray, Madam,
what did you marry for ?
MRS SUL. : To support the Weakness of my Sex by the
Strength of his, and to enjoy the Pleasures of an agreeable
Society.
SIR CH. : Are your Expectations answer 'd ?
MRS SUL. : No.
SIR CH. : What are the Bars to your mutual Contentment ?
MRS SUL. : In the first place, I can't drink Ale with him.
SUL. : Nor can I drink Tea with her.
MRS SUL. : I can't hunt with you.
SUL. : Nor can I dance with you.
MRS SUL. : I hate Cocking and Racing.
SUL. : And I abhor Ombre and Piquet.
MRS SUL. : Your Silence is intollerable.
SUL. : Your Prating is worse.
MRS SUL. : Have we not been a perpetual Offence to each
other — A gnawing Vulture at the Heart ?
SUL. : A frightful Goblin to the Sight.
MRS SUL. : A Porcupine to the Feeling.
SUL. : Perpetual Wormwood to the Taste.
MRS. SUL. : Is there on Earth a thing we cou'd agree in ?
SUL. : Yes— To part.
MRS. SUL. : With all my Heart. Ibid.
* FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE
SIR OLIVER : Well, a pox of this tying man and woman
together, for better, for worse ! SIR GEORGE ETHEREGE
She wou'd if she cou'd (1668)
409
LIBERTY
LYDIA : But if I cou'd be desperate, now, and give you up
my liberty, cou'd you find in your heart to quit all other
engagements, and voluntrarily turn your self over to one
woman, and she a Wife too ? Cou'd you away with the
insufferable bondage of Matrimony ?
RANGER : You talk of Matrimony as irreverently as my
Lady Flippant. The bondage of Matrimony, no
The end of Marriage now is Liberty -,
And two are bound — to set each other free.
WILLIAM WYCHERLEY
Love in a Wood (1671)
A FATHER'S CHOICE
PRUE : By that time, he'll be your Husband, if your
Father come to-night.
HIPPOLITA : Or if I provide no not myself with another
in the meantime ! For Fathers seldom chuse well, and I
will no more take my Father's choice in a Husband than
I would in a Gown or a Suit of Knots : so that if that
Cousin of mine were not an ill-contrived Frekeish-fool,
in being my Father's choice, I shou'd hate him.
WILLIAM WYCHERLEY
The Gentleman Dancing- Master (1672)
NOTHING VIOLENT
Lord L. bowed, delighted ; and if he did, his good Lady,
you may be sure, partook of her Lord's delight. They
410
are a happy pair ! They want not sense ; they have both
fine understandings ! But, O ! my Lucy, they are not the
striking, dazzling qualities in men and women, that make
happy. Good sense, and solid judgment, a natural com-
placency of temper, a desire of obliging, and an easiness to
be obliged, procure the silent, the serene happiness, to
which the fluttering, tumultuous, impetuous fervors of
passion can never contribute. Nothing violent can be
lasting.
SAMUEL RICHARDSON
Sir Charles Grandison (1754)
HUMAN NATURE
SIR CHARLES : My friend Beauchamp deserves the best
of women. You are excellent in my eyes ; but I have
known two very worthy persons, who, taken separately,
have been admired by every one who knew them, and who
admired each other before marriage, yet not happy in it.
Miss GRANDISON : Is it possible ? To what could their un-
happiness be owing ? — Both, I suppose, continuing good ?
SIR C. : To a hundred almost nameless reasons — Too
little consideration on one side ; too much on the other :
Diversions different : Too much abroad the man — Too
much at home will sometimes have the same effect :
Acquaintances approved by the one — Disapproved by the
other : One liking the town ; the other the country : Or
either preferring town or country in different humours,
or at different times of the year. Human nature, Charlotte.
Miss G. : No more, I beseech you, Brother — Why this
411
human nature, I believe, is a very vile thing ! I think,
Lady L., I won't marry at all.
SIR C. : Some such trifles, as these I have enumerated,
will be likely to make you, Charlotte, with all your
excellencies, not so happy as I wish you to be. If you
cannot have a man of whose understanding you have a
higher opinion than you have of your own, you should
think of one who is likely to allow to yours a superio-
rity. . . . And now the question recurs, What shall I
say to Lord G ? What to Sir Walter ?
Miss G. : Why, I think you must make my compliments to
Sir Walter, if you will be so good ; and, after the example
of my Sister Harriet to the men she sends a grazing, very
civilly tell him, he may break his heart as soon as he
pleases ; for that I cannot be his.
SIR C. : Strange girl ! But I wish not to lower this lively
spirit — You will put your determination into English.
Miss G. : In plain English, then, I can by no means think
of encouraging the address of Sir Walter Watkins.
SIR C. : Well, and what shall I say to Lord G, ? ... Can
you, do you think, love Lord G. ?
Miss G. : Love him ! love Lord G. ? what a question is
that ! Why no, I verily believe, that I can't say that.
SIR C. : Can you esteem him ?
Miss G. : Esteem ! Why that's a quaint word, tho' a
female one. I believe if I were to marry the honest man, I
could be civil to him, if he would be very complaisant,
very observant, and all that. . . .
SIR C. : . . . But if you cannot be more than civil, and if
is to be very observant, you'll make it your agreement he
with him, before you meet him at the altar, that he,shall
412
subscribe to the woman's part of the vow, and that you
shall answer to the man's.
Miss G. : A good thought, I believe ! I'll consider of it.
If I find, in courtship, the man will bear it, I may make
the proposal. — Yet I don't know, but it will be as well to
suppose the vow changed, without conditioning for it, as
other good women do ; and act accordingly. One would
not begin with a singularity, for fear of putting the parson
out. I heard an excellent Lady once advice a good wife,
who, however, very little wanted it, to give the man a
hearing, and never do anything that he would wish to be
done, except she chose to do it. If the man loves quiet,
he'll be glad to compound.
SAMUEL RICHARDSON
Sir Charles Grandison (1754)
THE PERFECT HUSBAND
Never man had a greater passion for a woman, nor a more
honourable esteeme of a wife, yet he was not uxurious,
nor remitted not that just lule which it was her honor to
obey, but manag'd th' reines of governement with such
prudence and affection that she who would not delight in
such an honourable and advantageable subjection, must
have wanted a reasonable soule : he govern'd by perswa-
sion, which he never employ'd but to things honorable
and profitable for herself: He lov'd her soule and her
honor more than her outside, and yet he had even for her
person a constant indulgence, exceeding the common
temporary passions of the most uxurious fooles : if he
esteem'd her att a higher rate than she in herselfe could
413
have deserv'd, he was the author of that vertue he doated
on, while she only reflected his own glories upon him ; all
that she was, was him, while he was here, and all that she is
now at best is but his pale shade. So liberall was he to her,
and of so generous a temper, that he hated the mention of
sever'd purses ; his estate being so much at her dispose,
that he never would receive an account of aniething she
expended ; so constant was he in his love, that when she
ceas'd to be young and lovely, he began to shew most
fondnesse ; he lov'd her at such a kind and generous rate
as words cannot expresse ; yet even this, which was the
highest love he or anie man could have, was yet bounded
by a superior, he lov'd her in the Lord as his fellow
creature, not his idoll, but in such a manner as show'd
that an affection, bounded in the just rules of duty, far
exceeds every way all the irregular passions in the world.
He lov'd God above her, and all the other dear pledges of
his heart, and at his command, and for his glorie cheare-
fully resign'd them. He was as kinde a father, as deare a
brother, as good a master, and as faithful a friend as the
world had.
LUCY HUTCHINSON
To her Children concerning their Father (c. 1665)
TRAPPED
SILVIA : But do you intend to marry me ?
HEARTWELL : That a Fool should ask such a malicious
question ! Death, I shall be drawn in, before I know where
I am — . . . Marry you ? no, no, I'll love you.
SILVIA : Nay, but if you love me, you must marry me ;
414
what don't I know my Father lov'd my Mother, and was (
married to her ?
HEART. : Ay, ay, in old Days, People married where they
lov'd ; but that Fashion is chang'd, Child.
SIL. : Never tell me that, for I know it is not chang'd
by my self ; for I love you, and would marry you. . . .
HEART. : Damn her, let her go, and a good riddance — Yet
so much Tenderness and Beauty and Honesty together is
a Jewel — Stay, Silvia — But then to marry — Why every
Man plays the Fool once in his Life : But to marry is
playing the Fool all one's Life long. . . . Well, farewel
then — if I can get out of Sight I may get the better of
myself.
SIL. : Well— good buy. (Turns and Weeps.}
HEART. : Ha ' Nay come, we'll kiss at parting ... By
Heav'n, her kiss is sweeter than Liberty — I will marry
thee — There thou hast don't. All my Resolves melted in
that Kiss — one more.
SIL. : But when ?
HEART. : I'm impatient till it be done ; I will not give
myself Liberty to think, lest I should cool — I will about a
Licence straight. . . . One Kiss more to confirm me mad ;
so- WILLIAM CONGREVE
The Old Batchelor (1693)
IMPROVING THE MIND
But the Grand affair of your life will be to gain and pre-
serve the Freindship and Esteem of your Husband. You
are married to a Man of good education and learning, of
415
an excellent understanding, and an exact taste. It is true,
and it is happy for you, that these Qualities in him are
adorned with great Modesty, a most amiable Sweetness of
Temper, and an unusual disposition to Sobriety and Virtue :
But neither Good-Nature nor Virtue will suffer him to es-
teem you against his Judgment ; and although he is not
capable of using you ill, yet you will in time grow a thing
indifferent, and perhaps contemptible ; unless you can
supply the loss of Youth and Beauty with more durable
Qualities. You have but a very few years to be young and
handsome in the eyes of the World ; and as few months to
be so, in the eyes of a Husband, who is not a Fool ; for I
hope you do not still dream of Charms and Raptures,
which Marriage ever did, and ever will, put a sudden end
to. Besides, yours was a match of Prudence and common
good-liking, without any mixture of that ridiculous Pas-
sion which has no Being but in Play-Books and Romances.
You must therefore use all endeavours to attain to
some degree of those Accomplishments which your
Husband most values in other People, and for which he is
most valued himself. You must improven your Mind. . . .
You must get a collection of History and Travels which I
will recommend to you, and spend some hours every day
in reading them, and making extracts from them if your
Memory be weak. You must invite Persons of knowledge
and understanding to an acquaintance with you, by whose
Conversation you may learn to correct your Taste and
Judgement ; and when you can bring yourself to compre-
hend and relish the good Sense of others, you will arrive in
time to think rightly yourself, and to become a Reasonable
and Agreeable Companion. This must produce in your
Husband a true Rational Love and Esteem for you, which
old Age will not diminish. He will have a regard for your
416
Judgment and Opinion in matters of the greatest Weight ;
you will be able to entertain each other without a Third
Person to releive you by finding Discourse. The endow-
ments of your Mind will even make your Person more
agreeable to him ; and when you are alone, your Time will
not lie heavy upon your hands for want of some trifling
Amusement. . . .
I desire you will keep this Letter in your Cabinet, and
often examine impartially your whole Conduct by it : And
so God bless you, and make you a fair Example to your
Sex, and a perpetual Comfort to your Husband and your
Parents. JONATHAN SWIFT
A Letter to a Very Young Lady (1727)
THE MOST REFINED PLEASURE
How delightful it is when the mind of the female is so
happily disposed, and so richly cultivated, as to participate
in the literary avocations of her husband ! It is then truly
that the intercourse of the sexes becomes the most refined
pleasure. What delight, for instance, must the great
Budaeus have tasted. . . . His wife left him nothing to
desire . . . she brought him the books he required to his
desk ; she collated passages, and transcribed quotations ;
the same . . . ardour for literature eminently appeared in
these two fortunate persons. . . . She was sedulous to
animate him when he languished. Ever at his side, and ever
assiduous ; ever with some useful book in her hand. . . .
Yet she did not neglect the education of eleven children.
ISAAC DISRAELI
Curiosities of Literature (1791-1823)
OP
FAITHFUL FISH
The constant Cantharus,
Who, ever faithful to his dearest Spouse,
In Nuptiall Duties spending all his life,
Loves never other than his onely wife.
But, for her love, the Mullet hath no Peer ;
For, if the Fisher have surpriz'd her Pheer,
As mad with wo to shore she followeth,
Prest to consort him both in life and death.
As yerst those famous, loving Thracian Dames
That leapt alive into the funerall flames
Of their dead Husbands ; who deceast and gone,
Those loyall Wives hated to live alone.
JOSHUA SYLVESTER
Divine Weekes and Workes (1592)
Trans, from Guillaume Du Bartas
A RASH VENTURE
I knew your new brother-in-law at school, but have not
seen him since. But your sister was in love, and must conse-
quently be happy to have him. Yet I own, I cannot much
felicitate anybody that marries for love. It is bad enough
to marry ; but to marry where one loves is ten times worse.
It is so charming at first, that the decay of inclination
renders it infinitely more disagreeable afterwards. Your
sister has a thousand merits ; but they don't count : but
then she has good sense enough to make her happy, if
her merit cannot make him so.
HORACE WALPOLE, Letter to Horace Mann (1743)
418
MUCH LIKE LIFE
Marriage is not commonly unhappy, otherwise than as life
is unhappy. SAMUEL JOHNSON, Rambler (1750-52)
REMEDY FOR THE SPLEEN
MR SOLUS : Now I think marriage is an excellent remedy
for the spleen. I have known a Gentleman at a feast
receive an affront, disguise his rage, step home, vent it all
upon his wife, return to his companions, and be as good
company as if nothing had happened.
MRS INCHBALD, Every one has his fault (1793)
METROPOLITAN
HERRICK BACK IN LONDON
From the dull confines of the drooping West,
To see the day spring from the pregnant East,
Ravisht in spirit, I come, nay more, I flie
To thee, blest place of my Nativitie !
Thus, thus with hallowed foot I touch the ground,
O fruitfull Genius ! that bestowest here
An everlasting plenty, yeere by yeere.
419
0 Place \ O People ! Manners ! fram'd to please
All Nations, Customes, Kindreds, Languages !
1 am a free-born Roman ; suffer then,
That I amongst you live a Citizen.
London my home is ; though by hard fate sent
Into a long and irksome banishment ;
Yet since caPd back ; henceforward let me be,
O native countrye, repossest by thee !
For, rather than Fie to the West return,
Fie beg of thee first here to have mine Urn.
Weak I am grown, and must in short time fall ;
Give thou my sacred Reliques Buriall.
ROBERT HERRICK
His returne to London. Hesperides (1648)
CICERO PRAISES ROME
The City, the City, my Rufus — stay in it and live in its
light ! Sojourning elsewhere, is, as I have declared from
my youth up, obscure and paltry to those whose activities
can make them illustrious in Rome. CICERO
Letter to M. Caelius Rufus (50 B.C.)
STILL THE CAPITAL OF THE WORLD
Come to Rome. It is a scene by which expression is over-
powered ; which words cannot convey. . . .
What shall I say of the modern city ? Rome is yet the
capital of the world. It is a city of palaces and temples more
glorious than those which any other city contains, and of
420
ruins more glorious than they. Seen from any of the emin-
ences that surround it, it exhibits domes beyond domes,
and palaces, and colonnades interminably, even to the
horizon ; interspersed with patches of desert, and mighty
ruins which stand girt by their own desolation, in the
midst of the fanes of living religions, and the habitations
of living men, in sublime loneliness. p B SHELLEY
Letter to T. L. Peacock (1819)
OVID is ROME-SICK
In that place, there is leisure now, and the garrulous wars
of the wordy forum give place to the games, in rapid
succession. Now there is sport with horses, now play with
light arms, now with the ball, now with the round hoop
that swiftly turns ; now the young men, stained with the
slippery oil, lave tired limbs in the water of Virgo. The
stage is lively, applause is hot with zeal and partisanship,
and three theatres resound instead of three fora. O four
times happy, happy more times than one may count, is
he to whom is permitted the enjoyment of the unforbidden
city ! . . . OVID
Tristia. III. 12 (9-10 A.D.)
BEAUTY OF ROME
Since I have been absent from you, thrust away to the
Scythian shores, the rising of the Pleiades has brought
four autumns. Do not think it is the conveniences of city
421
life which Naso seeks — and yet nevertheless he does seek
them. For sometimes I recall you to my mind, my sweet
friends, at other times my dear wife and daughter : and
from my house I go out once more to the places of the
lovely city, and my mind beholds them all with its own
eyes. Now the fora, now the temples, now the marble-
cased theatres, now every colonnade with its levelled
ground, come into my thoughts ; now the grass of the
Campus that looks on the beautiful gardens, and the
pools, and the moats, and the stream Virgo.
OVID, Ex Ponto. I. 8 (12-13 A.D.)
PRETTY WENCHES OF ROME
Behold the populous City in her pride
Yeelds thee more choice than all the world beside :
More eares of ripe Corne grows not in the fields,
Nor half so many boughs the Forrest yeelds ;
So many greene leaves grow not in the Woods,
Nor swimme so many fish in the salt floods,
So many Starres in heaven you cannot see,
As here be pretty wenches, Rome, in thee.
OVID, Ars Amatoria (c. 2 B.C.)
Trans. Wye Saltonstall (1639)
PARIS
MASCARILLE : Well, ladies, what do you say of Paris ?
MADELON : Alas ! what can we say of it ? It would be
against all reason not to confess that Paris is the great
422
bureau of marvels, the centre of good taste, of wit, and
of gallantry.
MASCARILLE : As for me, I hold that outside Paris there
is no well-being for genteel people.
CATHOS : It's an incontestable truth.
MADELON : It's rather dirty, but we have the chair.
JEAN BAPTISTE MOLlfeRE
Les Precieuses Ridicules (1659)
ELEGANCE OF PARIS
My Dearest Friend,
And do I really address you from Paris ? Am I at this
moment a denizen of the far-famed queen of arts and arms
— the centre of all that is refined and estimable ? —
The glass of fashion and the mould of form,
The observed of all observers ! —
I am dizzy with the thought ! . . .
Only think how charming the way of life here ! For
every meal, separate establishments, and all fitted up with
that united elegance and splendour which none but Paris-
ians understand. Here is the Cafe des Milles Colonnes, with
its flashing radiance of gold and glass ! — its host of waiters,
swift and silent as attendant spirits ! . . . and then the
company ! — ... Of these enchanted spots there are many
hundreds, and also of Restaurateurs, where luxury assumes
her most seductive form, and eating is no longer a vulgar
appetite. Fancy your friend choosing her dinner from a
carte of two hundred and fifty dishes ! And then their names
so different from your low plough-boy English ones —
423
<c boiled beef and greens " ! " roast goose and apple sauce " !
horrid ! I am sure after poulet nouveau en fricassee —
pigeons de voliere aux points d'asperges — omelette soufflee and
beignets d'abricot, I shall never bear to pronounce, much
less partake of, the gross aliments of our own country.
But the Louvre, my dear creature, with its " Parian
stairs " and names imperial — the " Hall of the Em-
perors " ; the " Hall of the Seasons " ; the " Hall of the
Romans." Don't you feel your mind elevated while pro-
nouncing them ? And then the interminable gallery itself,
with its imperishable records of artists now in the cold
grave ! I am bewildered like JEve among the flowers of
Paradise. . . .
But to return to Paris, chere, chere Paris ! I have been
here but a fortnight, but I already feel my mind pro-
digiously expanded. . . . What, my dear friend, can that
person know of elegance, who has never seen the Palais
Royal with its boutiques and bijouterie ?
MARIA JANE JEWSBURY
Phantasmagoria (1825)
FLORENCE
I have crept on upon time from day to day here ; fond of
Florence to a degree : 'tis infinitely the most agreeable of
all the places I have seen since London : that you know
one loves, right or wrong, as one does one's nurse. Our
little Arno is not boated and swelling like the Thames, but
'tis vastly pretty, and, I don't know how, being Italian,
has something visionary and poetical in its stream. Then
One's unwilling to leave the gallery, and — but — in short,
424
LC'S unwilling to get into a post-chaise. I am as surfeited
th mountains and inns, as if I had eat them.
HORACE WALPOLE, Letter to Henry Conway (1740)
MANHATTAN
ity of orgies, walks and joys,
ity whom I that have lived and sung in your midst will
one day make you illustrious,
ot the pageants of you, not your shifting tableaux, your
spectacles, repay me,
ot the interminable rows of your houses, nor the ships
at the wharves,
or the processions in the street, nor the bright windows
with goods in them,
or to converse with learn'd persons, or bear my share in
the soiree or feast ;
ot those, but as I pass, O Manhattan, your frequent
and swift flash of eyes offering me love,
ffering response to my own — these repay me,
overs, continual lovers, only repay me. ^
WALT WHITMAN, City of Orgies (1855)
BOSTON
I come from the city of Boston,
The home of the bean and the cod,
Where Cabots speak only to Lowells,
And Lowells speak only to God.
SAMUEL C. BUSHNELL (l9th Cent.)
425
PARADISE FOR WIVES
MRS SULLEN : London., dear London, is the place for
managing and breaking a Husband.
DORINDA : And has not a Husband the same opportunities
there for humbling a Wife ?
MRS SUL : No, no. Child, 'tis a standing Maxim in Con-
jugal Discipline, that when a Man wou'd enslave his
Wife, he hurries her into the Country ; and when a Lady
wou'd be arbitrary with her Husband, she wheedles her
Booby up to Town. — A Man dare not play the Tyrant
in London, because there are so many Examples to en-
courage the Subject to rebel. O Dorinda, Dorinda \ a fine
Woman may do any thing in London : O' my Conscience,
she may raise an Army of Forty thousand Men.
GEORGE FARQUHAR
The Beaux' Stratagem (1707)
RETURN TO TOWN
COURT ALL : Only my joy to see you, Sir Oliver, and to
welcome you to Town.
SIR OLIVER : Methinks, indeed, I have been an age absent,
but I intend to redeem the time : and how and how stand
Affairs, prithee now ? is the Wine good ? are the Women
kind ? Well, faith, a man had better be a vagabond in this
Town, than a Justice of Peace in the Country : I was e'ne
grown a Sot for want of Gentlemanlike recreations.
SIR GEORGE ETHEREGE
She wou'd if she cou'd (1668)
426
GOODLY LONDON
0 more than mortal! man, that did this Towne begin !
Whose knowledge found the plot, so fit to set it in.
What God, or heavenly power was harbourd in thy
breast,
From whom with such successe thy labours should be
blest ?
Built on a rising Bank, within a Vale to stand, SSitSS?
And for thy healthfull soyle, chose gravell niixt withLondon-
sand. . . .
And to the North and South, upon an equall reach,
Two Hils their even Banks do somewhat seeme to stretch,
Those two extreamer Winds from hurting it to let ;
And only levell lies, upon the Rise and Set.
Of all this goodly Ile^ where breathes most cheerefull
aire,
And every way there-to the wayes most smooth and faire ;
As in the fittest place, by man that could be thought,
To which by Land, or Sea, provision might be brought.
And such a Road for Ships scarce all the world commands,
As is the goodly Tames, neer where Brute's City stands.
Nor any Haven lies to which is more resort,
Commodities to bring, as also to transport.
MICHAEL DRAYTON
Poly-Olbion. Song XVI (1613)
STREETS AND LIFE
Streets, streets, streets, markets, theatres, churches,
Covent Gardens, shops sparkling with pretty faces of
427
industrious milliners, neat sempstresses, ladies cheapen-
ing, gentlemen behind counters lying, authors in the
street with spectacles, George Dyers (you may know
them by their gait), lamps lit at night, pastrycooks' and
silversmiths' shops, beautiful Quakers of Pentonville,
noise of coaches, drowsy cry of watchmen at night, with
bucks reeling home drunk ; if you happen to wake at
midnight, cries of " Fire ! " and " Stop thief! " inns of
court, with their learned air, and halls, and butteries,
just like Cambridge colleges ; old book-stalls, " Jeremy
Taylors," " Burtons on Melancholy," and " Religio
Medicis " on every stall. These are thy pleasures, O
London, with thy many sins. O City, abounding in w . . . ,
for these may Keswick and her giant brood go hang !
CHARLES LAMB
Letter to Thomas Manning (1800)
ITALIAN CITY
Had I but plenty of money, money enough and to spare.
The house for me, no doubt, were a house in the city-
square ;
Ah, such a life, such a life, as one leads at the window
there ;
Something to see, by Bacchus, something to hear, at
least !
There, the whole day long, one's life is a perfect feast ;
While up at a villa one lives, I maintain it, no more than a
beast. . . .
428
But the city, oh the city — the square with the houses !
Why ? . . .
You watch who crosses and gossips, who saunters, who
hurries by ;
Green blinds, as a matter of course, to draw when the sun
gets high ;
And the shops with fanciful signs which are painted
properly. . . .
Is it ever hot in the square ? There's a fountain to spout
and splash !
In the shade it sings and springs ; in the shine such foam-
bows flash
On the horses with curling fish-tails, that prance and
paddle and pash
Round the lady atop in her conch — fifty gazers do not
abash,
Though all that she wears is some weeds round her waist
in a sort of sash. . . .
Ere you open your eyes in the city, the blessed church-
bells begin :
No sooner the bells leave otf than the diligence rattles in :
You get the pick of the news, and it costs you never a
pin.
By and by there's the travelling doctor gives pills, lets
blood, draws teeth ;
Or the Pulcinello-trumpet breaks up the market beneath.
At the post-office such a scene-picture — the new play,
piping hot !
And a notice how, only this morning, three liberal thieves
were shot.
429
Above it, behold the Archbishop's most fatherly of
rebukes.
And beneath, with his crown and his lion, some little
new law of the Duke's ! . . .
Noon strikes, — here sweeps the procession ! Our Lady
borne smiling and smart
With a pink gauze gown all spangles, and seven swords
stuck in her heart !
Bang-whang-whang goes the drum, tootle-te-tootle the
fife;
No keeping one's haunches still : it's the greatest pleasure
in life. . . .
Look, two and two go the priests, then the monks with
cowls and sandals,
And the penitents dressed in white shirts, a-holding the
yellow candles ;
One, he carries a flag up straight, and another a cross
with handles,
And the Duke's guard brings up the rear, for the better
prevention of scandals :
Bang-whang-whang goes the drum, tootle-te-tootle the fife.
Oh, a day in the city-square, there is no such pleasure in
life!
ROBERT BROWNING
Up at a Villa — Down in the City (1842)
430
ODIUM THEOLOGICUM
DISLIKING PRELATES
Now I appeale to all wise men, what an excessive wast
of Treasury hath beene within these few yeares in this
Land ... in the Idolatrous erection of Temples beautified
exquisitely to out-vie the Papists, the costly and deare-
bought Scandals, and snares of Images, Pictures, rich
coaps, gorgeous Altar-clothes. . . . What can we suppose
this will come to ? What other materials then these have
built up the spirituall BABEL to the heighth of her Abomin-
ations ? . . . The soure levin of humane Tradition mixt in
one putrified Masse with the poisonous dregs of hypoc-
risie in the hearts of Prelates that lye basking in the Sunny
warmth of Wealth and promotion, is the Serpents Egge
that will hatch an Antichrist wheresoever, and ingender
the same Monster as big, or as little as the Lump is which
breeds him. If the splendor of Gold and Silver begin to
Lord it once againe in the Church of England, wee shall
see Antichrist shortly wallow here, though his cheife
Kennell be at Rome. If they had one thought upon God's
glory and the advancement of Christian Faith, they would
be a meanes that with these expences thus profusely
throwne away in trash, rather Churches and Schools might
be built, where they cry out for want ... a moderate
maintenance distributed to every painfull Minister, that
431
now scarse sustaines his Family with Bread, while the
Prelats revell like Belshazzar with their full carouses in
Goblets, and vessels of gold snacht from God*s Temple. . . .
These devout Prelates, spight of our great Charter,
and the soules of our Progenitors that wrested their liber-
ties out of the Norman gripe with their dearest blood and
highest prowesse, for these many years have not ceas't in
their Pulpits wrinching and spraining the text, to set at
nought and trample under foot all the most sacred and life
blood Lawes, Statutes and Acts of Parliament ... by pro-
scribing and confiscating from us all the right we have to
our owne bodies, goods and liberties. What is this, but to
blow a trumpet, and proclaime a hereditary and perpetuall
civill warre. . . .
Most certaine it is (as all our Stories beare witnesse)
that ever since their coming to the See of Canterbury for
neere twelve hundred yeares, to speak of them [the
bishops] in generall, they have beene in England to our
Soules a sad and dolefull succession of illiterate and blind
guides : to our purposes and goods a wastfull band of
robbers, a perpetuall havock and rapine : To our state a
continuall Hydra of mischiefe and molestation, the forge
of discord and rebellion . . .
O let them not bring about their damned designes that
stand now at the entrance of the bottomlesse pit expect-
ing the Watch-word to open and let out those dreadfull
Locusts and Scorpions, to re-involve us in that pitchy Cloud
of infernall darknes, where we shall never more see the
Sunne of the Truth againe, never hope for the cheerfull
dawne, never more heare the Bird of Morning sing. . . .
But they contrary . . . after a shamefull end in this
Life (which God grant them) shall be throwne eternally
into the darkest and deepest Gulfe of HELL, where under
432
the despightfull controule, the trample and spume of all
the other Damned, that in the anguish of their Torture
shall have no other ease then to exercise a Raving and
Bestiall Tyranny over them as their Slaves and Negro's,
they shall remaine in that plight for ever, the basest, the
lowermost, the most dejected, most underfoot and downe-
trodden Vassals of Perdition.
JOHN MILTON, Of Reformation in England (1641)
DISLIKING THE FATHERS
Whatsoever time, or the heedlesse hand of blind chance,
hath drawne down from of old to this present, in her huge
dragnet, whether Fish, or Sea- Weed, Shells, or Shrubbs,
unpickt, unchosen, those are the Fathers.
JOHN MILTON, Of Prelatical Episcopacy (1641)
DISLIKING BISHOPS
She [Katherine Philips] was when a child much against
the bishops, and prayd to God to take them to him.
JOHN AUBREY, Brief Lives : Katherine Philips (c. 1680)
THEOLOGIANS DISLIKING ONE ANOTHER
Then he went into his owne country, to Beaudley (a
market-towne) at which time Mr Baxter (his antagonist)
preacht at Kidderminster, the next market-towne, two
433
miles distant. They preacht against one another's doc-
trines, and printed against each other. Mr Tombes was the
Coryphaeus of the Anabaptists : both had great audience ;
they went severall miles on foot to each doctor. Once (I
thinke oftner) they disputed face to face, and the followers
were like two armies, about 1500 of a party; and truly at
last they fell by the eares, hurt was donne, and the civill
magistrate had much adoe to quiet them. r, • »
John Tombes (c. 1680)
DISLIKING JESUIT MATHEMATICAL BOOKS
In Sir Charles Scarborough's time (he was of Caius
College) Dr Batchcroft (the head of that house) would visit
the boyes chambers, and see what they were studying ;
and Charles Scarborough's genius let him to the mathe-
matics, and he was wont to be reading of Clavius upon
Euclid. The old Dr. had found in the title " e Societate
Jesu" and was much scandalized at it. Sayd he, " By all
meanes leave-off this author, and read Protestant mathe-
maticall bookes." « ^
Thomas Batchcroft
DISLIKING ROMAN CATHOLICISM
The retaining of this Romish Liturgy is a provocation to
God and a dishonour to our Church. ... If we have in-
deed given a Bill of Divorce to Popery and Superstition,
434
why do wee not say, as to a divors't wife, those things
which are yours take them all with you, and they shall
sweepe after you ? Why were we not thus wise at our
parting from Rome ? Ah ! like a crafty adulteresse, she
forgot nor all her smooth looks and inticing words at her
parting : Yet keep these letters, these tokens, and these few
ornaments. . . . Thus did those tenderhearted reformers
dotingly suffer themselves to be overcome with harlot's
language. . . . For we are deepe in dotage.
JOHN MILTON
An Apology for Smectymnuus (1642)
From an Usurping Vice-Christ, whose ambition is so
boundless as to extend to the Prophetical, Priestly, and
Kingly Headship, over all the Earth. . . . From a Leprous
Sect, which Condemneth the far greatest part of all
Christ's Church on Earth, and calleth itself the whole and
only Church : From that Church that decreeth Destruc-
tion, to all that renounce not humane Sense . . . and that
decreeth the Excommunication, Deposition, and Damna-
tion, of all Princes that will not exterminate all such: and
absolveth their Subjects from their Oaths of Allegiance :
From that Beast whose Mark is Perjury, Perfidioi4sness, and
Persecution, and that think they do God acceptable Service
by killing his Servants, or tormenting them. . . . From
the infernal Dragon, the Father of Lies, Malice and
Murder, and all their Ministers and Kingdom of Dark-
ness, Good Lord make haste to deliver thy Flock.
RICHARD BAXTER
The Protestant Religion Truely Stated and Justified
(Pub. 1692)
435
As to Popery . . . which for a thousand years past hath
been introducing and multiplying corruptions both in
doctrine and discipline, I look upon it to be the most ab-
surd system of Christianity professed by any nation. But
I cannot apprehend this kingdom to be in much danger
from it. ... Their common people are sunk in poverty,
ignorance and cowardice, and of as little consequence as
women and children. JONATHAN SWIFT
The Presbyterians' Plea of Merit in order to take off the
Test impartially examined (1733)
DISLIKING PROTESTANTS
If we give any credit to this picture of Anne Boleyn, she
was a lady of neither spirit nor beauty. Yet she had both.
I am apt to think it is a burlesque upon her. It may be,
'twas done at the expence and by the direction of a
Roman Catholic. We know Roman Catholics hate her
mortally, and therefore it is no wonder that she should be
represented as a woman of no beauty or accomplishments.
THOMAS HEARNE, Diary (June 10, 1718)
DISLIKING DISSENTERS
jc. Honred Old friend,
I must not omitt giveing you an accompt of Mr.
Baxter's tryall, lately at Guild-Hall before Sr George
Jeffery's our now Lord Chief Justice, where you'l find him
declaimeing violently, upon the common theam of his
436
ownc ignorance, and putrid mallice, against that most
excelent saint, and grave minister of Christ, Mr. Baxter.
When I saw the meeke man stand before the flameing
eyes, and feirce look's of this Biggott, I thought of Paul
standing before Nero . . . you'l see him driveing on
furiously, like the Great Hanebal makeing his way Over
the alps with fire and vinegar, pouring all the contempt
and scorn upon him, as if he had bin a link boy, or
rake kennel, . . .
LORD C. J. : Oy is not this now an old knave. . . . Lord,
we are thy people, thy peculiar people, thy Dear people,
etc., — and then he snorts and speaks thro' the nose, and
clenches his hands, and lifts up his gogle eyes, in a mimi-
call way, runing on furiously as he saith they use to pray :
But old Pollixfin [Baxter's counsel] gave him a bite now
and then, tho' he could hardly crowd in a word.
POLL. : Why some tel you my lord tis hard measure to
stop up these mens mouths and yet not suffer them to
speak thro' the nose.
LORD C. J. : Pollixfin I know you well enough, and He set
a mark upon you, for you are the patron for the faction,
this is an old Rogue and hath poyson'd the world with
his Kederminster Doctrine : ... an old sismaticall knave,
an hipocritticall villain.
POLL : I beseech your lordship suffer me a word for my
Clyent : tis well known to all intelligable men of age of
this Nation, that these things agree not at all to the
carracter of Mr Baxter, . . . and, my lords, Mr. Baxter's
loyall and peaceable spirit King Charles the 2d woud
have rewarded with a Bishoprick, when he came in, if he
could have conformed,
LORD C. J. : Oy oy we know that but what ail'd the old
437
stockcole unthankfull villain, that he could not conforme
— was he better or wiser then other men ? He hath been
ever since the spring of the faction, I am sure he hath
poyson'd the world with his lincee-wolsie doctrin : . . .
a conceited, stuborn, fanaticall dog, that did not conforme
when he might have been prefer'd, hang him this one
old fellow, hath cast more reproch upon the constitution
and excelent discipline of our Church, then will be wip'd
of this hundred years, but He handle him for it, for by
God he deserves to be whipt thro the city.
POLL : My lord, I am sure these things are not ad rem : . . .
LORD C. J. : But He handle him well enough, Fie warrant
you. . . . Come you, what do you say for your self, you
old knave, come speak up : what doth he say : I am not
afraid of you for all the sniveling calves that are got about
you.
MR. BAXTER : Your lordship need not, for I will not hurt
you.
Mr. Rotherham urg'd . . . that Baxter . . . had
spoken very moderately and honourably of the Bishops
of the Church of England. . . .
BAXTER for Bishops, says JEFFREYS, that's a merry
conceit indeed . . . Ay, This is your Presbyterian Cant;
truly call'd to be Bishops, that is himself and such Rascals,
call'd to be Bishops of Kidderminster, and other such
Places. Bishops set apart by such Factious, Sniveling
Presbyterians as himself ; a Kidderminster Bishop he
means.
[Mortice] Baxter himselfe desired leave to speake, the Lord Chief
Justice said Richard, Richard, dost thou think wee will
incur the danger of being at a Conventicle to heare
thee preach, thou hast infected the kingdome and now
438
wouldst infect this Court, with thy Kederminster stuff.
. . . Richard thou art an old Fellow, an Old Knave ;t
thou hast written Books eno' to Load a Cart, every one
as full of Sedition (I might say Treason) as in Egg is full
of Meat. Hadst thou been whipp'd out of thy Writing
Trade, Forty Years ago, it had been happy . . . but by
the Grace of God I'll look after thee ... by the Grace of
Almighty God I'll Crush you all.
Richard Baxter's Trial. Letter from J. C. (1685)
Entring Book of J. Mortice (30th May, 1685) and
Life of Baxter by Edmund Calamy (1702)
We have an account from Whitechurch, in Shropshire,
that the dissenters there having prepared a great quantity
of bricks to erect a capacious conventicle, a destroying An-
gel came by night and spoyled them all, and confounded
their Babel in the beginning, to their great mortification.
THOMAS HEARNE, Diary (Aug. 6, 1706)
Almost every evening during the latter part of this
winter [1792] there were riotous assemblages, and the
windows of many of the Dissenters were broken. A very
numerous mob collected one evening, who after breaking
several windows, did great injury to the Meeting-House.
. . . The Rev. George Whitmore, Tutor of the above
College [St John's] thought more favourably of the con-
duct of the mob. Addressing his pupils next morning
... he expressed a hope that none of them had joined in
the disturbance, which he was pleased to designate " A
LAUDABLE EBULLITION OF JUSTIFIABLE ZEAL ! " . . .
439
Sir Busick Harwood . . . made the following remark :
" In general, every man ought to be considered honest
until he has proved himself a rogue ; but with Dissenters,
the maxim should be reversed, and every Dissenter should
be considered a rogue, until he had proved himself an
honest man. HENRY GUNNING
Reminiscences of Cambridge (1852)
Lord Eldon has the following reminiscence of this visit :
" I had a walk in New Inn Hall Garden with Dr John-
son and Sir Robert Chambers. Sir Robert was gathering
snails, and throwing them over the wall into his neighbour's
garden. The Doctor reproached him very roughly, and
stated to him that this was unmannerly and unneighbourly.
" Sir," said Sir Robert, " my neighbour is a Dissenter."
" Oh ! " said the Doctor ; " if so, Chambers, toss away,
toss away, as hard as you can." GEORGE BIRKBECK HILL
Note! o BosweWs Life of Johnson (1887)
DISLIKING METHODISTS
I talked of the recent expulsion of six students from the
University of Oxford, who were Methodists, and would
not desist from publickly praying and exhorting. JOHN-
SON : " Sir, that expulsion was extremely right and proper.
What have they to do at an University who are not willing
to be taught, but will presume to teach ? Where is religion
to be learnt but at an University? Sir, they were ex-
amined, and found to be mighty ignorant fellows." BOS-
WELL : " But was it not hard, Sir, to expel them, for I
440
am told they were good beings ? " JOHNSON : " I
believe they might be good beings ; but they were not fit
to be in the University of Oxford. A cow is a very good
animal in the field ; but we turn her out of a garden."
Lord Elibank used to repeat this as an illustration un-
commonly happy. JAMES BOSWELL
Life of Johnson (1791)
DISLIKING PRESBYTERIANS
That diabolical fanatick Sect which then destroyed
Church and State. JONATHAN SWIFT
Note written in Heylin's History of Presbyterians (1728)
Characteristics of the Presbyterians and Independents
1659: Manners; factious, saucy, and some impudent and
conceited, morose, . . . false, factious in college, and delight-
ing in petty plots . . .
They would avoid a taverne and ale-house, but yet send
for their commodities to their respective chambers and
tiple and smoake till they were over-taken with the crea-
ture Some I confess did venture, but then if overtaken
would in their way home counterfeit a lameness or that
some suddaine paine came upon them. . . . Many also
of them that were the sons of upstart gentlemen, such as
that had got the good places into their hands belonging
to the lawcourts and had bought the lands of the clergy
and gentry, were generally very proud, saucy, impudent.
ANTHONY WOOD
Life and Times
441
An age given over to all vice — whores and harlots, pimps
and panders, bauds and buffoons, lechery and treachery,
atheists and papists, rogues and rascalls, reason and trea-
son, playmakers and stage players, officers debauched and
corrupters . . . aggravated and promoted by presbytery.
Ibid. (1667)
Covenanters and presbyterians have been the ruine of
many families, the authour of bloodshed, the causes of
decay of common honesty ; and from their base dealings
wee see how the former pietie and plaine dealing of this
nation is turned into cruelty and cunning. IZAAK WALTON
Life of Bishop Sanderson (1678)
DONATISTS DISLIKING CATHOLICS
Is it not so that at Hippo, where I am, there are those who
remember that your Faustinus, in the time of his authority,
ordered that, since there were very few Catholics here,
no-one should bake their bread for them, so that a baker,
who was the lodger of one of our deacons, threw away his
landlord's bread unbaked ? ST AUGUSTINE
Scripta contra Donatistas. (Part II. Book II. c. 83)
DISLIKING THE ENGLISH PRAYER-BOOK
To contend that it is fantastical!, if not senselesse in some
places, were a copious argument. . . . The like, or worse,
may be said of the Litany, wherin neither priest nor
442
people speak any intire sense of them selves throughout
the whole . . . they keep life between them in piece of gasp-
ing sense, and keep down the saucinesse of a continual!
rebounding non-sense ... we all know it hath bin obvious
to be the pattern of many a jig. And he who hath but
read in good books of devotion . . . will presently perceave
this Liturgy all over in conception leane and dry, of affec-
tions empty and unmoving ; of passion, or any heighth
wherto the soule might soar upon the wings of zeale,
destitute and barren besides errors, tautologies, impertin-
encies, as those thanks in woman's churching in her
delivery from sun-burning and moon-blasting, as if she
had bin travailing not in her bed, but in the deserts of
Arabia.
So that while some men cease not to admire the incom-
parable frame of our Liturgy, I cannot but admire as
fast what they think is become of judgment and tast in
other men, that they can hope to be heard without laugh-
ter. . . . But when we remember this our Liturgy, where
we found it, whence we had it ... it may be wondered
how we can demurre whether it should be done away or
no, and not rather fear we have highly offended in using it
so long. It hath indeed bin pretended to be more ancient
then the Masse . . . but so little proved that . . . having
receav'd it from the Papall Church as an originall creature,
for aught can be shewn to the contrary, form'd and fash-
ion'd by work-maisters ill to be trusted, we may be assur'd
that if God loathe the best of an idolater's prayer, much
more the conceited fangle of his prayer. . . . Are we
stronger than hee, to brook that which his heart cannot
brook ? It is not surely because we think that prayers are
no where to be had but at Rome !
JOHN MILTON, Apology for Smectyrnnuus (1642)
443
The Common-Prayer-Book was sent down into Scotland,
where the King had no more Right to send it, than into
the Mogul's country ; but it was under a pretence of
Uniformity, . . . But the old Herb-woman at Edinburgh
put an end to that Game, for hearing the Arch-bishop
who watch'd the Kubrick, directing him to read in the
Book the Collect for the Day, she ... cry'd, The Dieul
Collick in the wemb of thee, and withal threw her Cricket-
stool at his Head, which gave a beginning to the War of
Scotland. SAMUEL JOHNSON
Notes upon the Phenix edition of the Pastoral Letter (1694)
DISLIKING QUAKERS
The Quakers unmasked, and clearly detected to be but the
Spawn of Romish Frogs, Jesuites, and Franciscan Freeres ;
sent from Rome to seduce the intoxicated Giddy-headed
English Nation. WILLIAM PRYNNE
Title of a Tract (1654)
DISLIKING LATITUDINARIANS
They push hard at the Latitude men as they call them,
some in their pulpitts call them sons of Belial, others
make the Devill a latitudinarian, which things are as
pleasant to me as the raillery of a jack-pudding at one
end of a dancing-rope. For I understand not the sottish-
ness of their language nor whom they mean, nor what
they would have. HENRY MORE
Letter to Lady Conway (1665)
444
DISLIKING INFIDELS
The settled aversion Dr Johnson felt towards an infidel he
expressed to all ranks and at all times, without the smallest
reserve. . . . We talked of a dead wit one evening, and
somebody praised him. " Let us never praise talents so
ill employed, Sir ; we foul our mouths by commending
such infidels " (said he). The Abbe Reynal probably
remembers that, being at the house of a common friend
in London, the master of it approached Johnson with that
gentleman so much celebrated in his hand, and this speech
in his mouth : " Will you permit me, Sir, to present to
you the Abbe Reynal ? " " No, Sir" (replied the Doctor
very loud) and suddenly turned away from them both.
HESTHER Piozzi, Anecdotes of Dr Johnson (1786)
A gentleman . . . said, that in his opinion the character of
an infidel was more detestable than that of a man notori-
ously guilty of an atrocious crime. I differed from him.
. . . JOHNSON : Sir, I agree with him, for the infidel
would be guilty of any crime if he were inclined to it.
JAMES BOS WELL, Life of Johnson (1791)
SANS RANCUNE
Mons. Voltaire remained in the drawing-room, with a
great Bible before us, and if ever two mortal men dis-
puted with vehemence, we did.
JAMES BOS WELL, Letter to William Temple (Ferney, 1764)
445
OLD AGE
THE SEAS ARE QUIET
The Seas are quiet, when the Winds give o're ;
So calm are we, when Passions are no more :
For then we know how vain it was to boast
Of fleeting Things, so certain to be lost.
Clouds of Affection from our younger Eyes
Conceal that emptiness, which Age descries.
The Soul's dark Cottage, batter'd and decay'd,
Lets in new Light thro chinks that time has made
Stronger by weakness, wiser Men become
As they draw near to their Eternal home :
Leaving the Old, both Worlds at once they view
That stand upon the Threshold of the New.
EDMUND WALLER
Of the last Verses in the Book (1686)
(Poems, ed. 5)
Pious EJACULATIONS
I remember before the Civill Warrs, ancient people,
when they heard tha clock strike, were wont to say,
" Lord, grant that my last houre may be my best houre."
446
They had some pious ejaculation too, when the cock did
crow, which did put them in mind of the trumpet at the
Resurrection. JOHN AUBREY
Remains of Gentilism and Judaism (1687)
A CHEERFUL PROSPECT
If I live to be Old, for I find I go down,
Let this be my Fate. In a Country Town,
May I have a warm house, with a Stone at the Gate,
And a cleanly young Girl, to rub my bald Pate.
Chorus
May I govern my Passion with absolute Sway,
And grow Wiser, and Better, as my Strength wears
away.
Without Gout, or Stone, by a gentle decay.
Near a shady Grove, and a murmuring Brook,
With the Ocean at Distance, whereupon I may look,
With a spacious Plain, without Hedge or Stile,
And an easy Pad-Nag, to ride out a Mile.
May I govern, etc.
With Horace and Petrarch, and Two or Three more
Of the best Wits that reign'd in the Ages before,
With roast Mutton, rather than Ven'son or Veal,
And clean, tho' coarse Linnen at every Meal.
May I govern, etc.
With a Pudding on Sundays, with stout humming Liquor,
And Remnants of Latin to welcome the Vicar,
With Monte- Fiascone or Burgundy Wine
To drink the Kings Health as oft as I dine.
May I govern, etc.
447
With a Courage undaunted, may I face my last Day,
And when I am dead may the better sort say.
In the Morning, when sober, in the Evening, when
Mellow,
He's gone and left not behind him his Fellow.
May I govern my Passion, etc.
WALTER POPE, The Wish (1697)
TELLING STORIES AND BEADS
Or when three or foure good companions meet, tell old
stories by the fier side, or in the Sunne, as old folkes
usually doe . . . remembering afresh and with pleasure
auncient matters, and such like accidents, which happnd
in their younger yeares. . . .
Old folks have their beades, an excellent invention to
keepe them from idlenesse that are by nature melancholy,
and past all affaires, to say so many Paternosters, Ave*
maries, Cr cedes, if it were not prophane and superstitious.
ROBERT BURTON
The Anatomy of Melancholy (1621. Edition 1632)
WIT IMPROVES WITH YEARS
As you Apollo's Eldest Off-Spring are
You of his Spirit claim a double share . . .
True Wit, like Wine, thro' Age does riper grow,
Brisker and clearer, nay and stronger too ...
Thus your old Laurels flourish to this Day
Like full-grown Trees, themselves to Heav'n display,
448
And see young Suckers under them decay . . .
So Phoebus, after all his Course, appears
Bright as at first, and as unchang'd by Years :
Does nothing of his Fire or Lustre lose,
But sets at last, as glorious as he rose I
WILLIAM WYCHERLEY
To that Incomparable Poet, Mr Waller, in his Old Age
(before 1687)
DOWAGERS, CARDS, MIRTH, AND MEMORY
I thought you would at least come and while away the
remainder of life on the banks of the Thames in gaiety
and old tales. . . . We shall neither of us ever be grave :
dowagers roost all around us, and you could never want
cards or mirth. . . . We should get together and comfort
ourselves with reflecting on the brave days we have known
— not that I think people were a jot more clever or wise
in our youth than they are now ; but as my system is
always to live in a vision as much as I can, and as visions
don't increase with years, there is nothing so natural as
to think one remembers what one does not remember.
HORACE WALPOLE, Letter to George Montagu (1768)
LADIES AT SIXTY
I have known Ladies at Sixty, to whom all the polite part
of the Court and Town paid their addresses, without any
further view than that of enjoying the pleasure of their
Conversation. JONATHAN SWIFT
A Letter to a Very Young Lady (1727)
PP 449
SATIETY
Why shou'd Old Age to most so dreadful be ?
Which, there are none but wish and pray to see ;
What we, by that, lose in our Apetites,
It, in our Sense and Temperance, requites ;
Age, with our Body's Imbecility,
But best our Sense and Soul does fortifie ;
Weak'ning the Body, strengthens more the Mind,
Which, as more Weak the Body grows, (we find)
Is to resist strong Passions more inclin'd. . . .
Tho' Death's afar off Grim, 'tis Tame when near.
So keeps our Huffing Youth but most in fear. . .
Then Death to Men sated with Life is Ease,
Rest to the Tir'd, to th' Bed-rid a Release ;
To the Long-Liv'd, the sole Variety,
Who have done all they cou'd before, but Die,
And Repetition is worst Drudgery ;
The best of Life is but the same thing still,
The Feast is loath'd, when we have had our Fill . . .
Thus Age what Virtue ne'er cou'd compass does,
Makes the Soul, in the Jail the Body loose. . . .
WILLIAM WYCHERLEY
In the Praise and Defence of Old Age : To a Vain
Young Man, who said. There was nothing to be said for
it, and that it was more dreadful than Death (c. 1704 ?)
GAIETY CONTEMPTIBLE
A fondness for the amusements and gaieties of fashionable
life in an advanced age, seems to me not only contempt-
ible but miserable, though I have often heard people
envied for it.
MRS. DONNELLAN, Letter to Samuel Richardson (1752)
450
ITS DEFENCE
You'll tell me that Age is apt to impair the Memory :
... I'll say that for my self, I can give a very particular
and competent Account of the present Generation, and of
their Fathers and Grandfathers before them too. . . . Was
it ever known in this world that a doting Volpone forgot
where he bury'd his Money ? Misers can remember
what they have a mind to, as well as other People. . . .
Sophocles wrote for the Stage as long as he liv'd. . . .
Solon in his Verses values himself upon reflecting, that
his Understanding improv'd as fast as his Days multiplyed.
. . . Socrates toward the latter End of his Life became
a Practitioner in Mustek ; a very creditable Accomplish-
ment in the Opinion of the Ancients ; and I could wish I
had try'd it my self. However, I have minded my Book,
and lost no Time in my Closet. . . .
In the second Place, as to any Decrease of Strength and
Vigour (which was the second Hardship objected) in
earnest, I find my self, upon the Experiment, altogether
as insensible of the Loss, as in my Prime I was of the want
of a Bull's or an Elephant's Muscles. . . .
No Man is under a Necessity to play the Fool in his
Old Age ; but every Man may if he pleases. Appius was
quite dark some Time before he died, and yet capable of
managing and disciplining four Sons (full grown) five
Daughters, and a large Dependence of Relations and In-
feriours. He minded his Business, and kept his Under-
standing brac'd ; and when his Vigour had fail'd him,
'twas more than his Age could do to foil him. ... In a
word, he modell'd his Family like a primitive Roman,
and follow'd the good old Way ; . . . .
And (in Truth) let a Man follow his Business diligently,
451
and always keep himself thus honestly and usefully
employ 'd, and he will have no leisure to perceive the
Encroachments of Old Age. 'Twill slide along with him
by very gentle and insensible Degrees, till at last he
sails (as 'twere) into Port, before he has had Occasion
to take Notice of his Voyage. . . .
If we must bid adieu to the Carnival of Life, to the
Relish of large Glasses and the Delicacies of the Board
the best on't is, we take our leave at the same Time of
Giddiness, Headach, Indigestion, Qualms, Fumes, Broken-
sleeps, and Distracting Dreams. . . . And if an Old
Man at an Entertainment cannot swallow as liberally, he
may refresh himself as comfortably as the rest of the
Company. There was old Cairn Duilius, Marcus's Son, he
that gave the first Blow to the Pride of Carthage by Sea.
Many a Time when I was a Youngster, have I stood to
look upon him as he was marching home after Supper,
with a wax-taper to light him, and a Violin playing before
him. . . .
I am sure as to my self, all the Pleasure that I am
affected with at a Repast in Season, is the Opportunity it
gives me of conferring Notes now and then with some or
other of those few Cavaliers remaining, that have seen as
much of the world as my self ; but much more frequently
with those that have not known it so long, as particularly,
Gentlemen, your selves. My Years, I must tell you, have
oblig'd me extreamly by diverting the Forwardness of
my Appetite and the Curiosity of my Palat, from Diet to
Discourse. . . . And this has been my Way of living in the
Country ; a Day never passes but I get my good Neigh-
bours about me, bid them welcome to what the House
affords, and so we set round, talking of this Thing and
t'other, till ten, eleven, perhaps twelve a Clock at Night.
452
To return, I shall be told, perhaps, that as a Man grows
in Years, he loses all the lively Flavour and Briskness of his
Pleasures. No matter, so long as he does not miss it. ...
An old Dotard was pleas'd to examine Socrates, whether
he had no private Concerns, now and then, upon Occasion,
with t'other Sex ? Bless me, what do you mean, Sir ? (say'd
the Philosopher like himself), / were in a fine condition
indeed, if I had not in all this Time broke the Tyranny
of that insolent unruly Passion. . . .
In short, what can we desire more than a fair and full
Discharge from the Service of our own Appetites and
Frenzies, our Lusts, Animositie, Ambition, etc., and to
have our Souls and Senses, as we say, to our selves ? And
then if there's a Foundation of Learning withal, and Lei-
sure and Opportunity to work upon it, O ! how deliciously
does an old Man enjoy himself ! Caius Gallus . . . took a
Pride and Satisfaction in nothing so much as his Knowledge
of Eclipses. . . . Noevius the Poet, how happily he pass'd
the Time, while he was composing his Performance about
the Punick War \ And so Plautus, when his Truculentus
and Pseudolus were upon the Stocks. And old Livy was as
fortunate as either of them. . . . Now what comparison is
there between such significant Recreations as these, and
the Beau's Paradise, the Taverns, the Stage, and the
Masks ? . . .
Next let us turn our Thoughts towards the Country, and
the Scene of those agreeable Cares and Concerns which
belong to it. These, I must own, are my beloved Employ ~
ments, as well they deserve to be. For when we are grown
too old for other Things, we may still be fit enough to
manage these matters. . . .
Be it so ; yet aged People are strangely Sour, Sollicitous,
Passionate, Peevish ; and 'tis odds but their Constitution's
over-run with .Avarice too. Possibly: But then take
Notice these Imperfections are owing not to the number
of our Years, but to the Error of our Conduct. . . . The
Difference is the same in Men, as in Wines : There are
some so well Body'd and Generous that Age cannot turn
them. . . .
By this Time, Gentleman, I suppose the Wonder's
over, and you may be sufficiently instructed to account for
that Easiness and Serenity, nay that Delight and Pleasure,
which crown these hoary Temples. ... In a Word, 'tis
with Life, as with other Things, a moderate Measure and
Quantity does best ; and whether there's another Life in
Reversion or not, he that is much troubled about putrefy-
ing, when 'tis Time, is his own Enemy. Old Age is the
last Result, the clinching Scene of the Play ; and if we
don't grow Sick on't by that Time, we should be glad,
however, if we could fairly get out of the House betimes,
and escape the Hurry.
CICERO, De Senectute (45 B.C.)
Trans. Samuel Parker (1704)
GAY OLD MEN
Ah Posthumus \ Our yeares hence flye,
And leave no sound ; nor piety,
Or prayers, or vow
Can keepe the wrinkle from the brow :
But we must on,
As Fate do's lead or draw us ; none.
None, Posthumus, co'd ere decline
The doome of cruell Proserpine. . . .
454
3. Wave seen the past-best Times, and these
Will nere return, we see the Seas,
And Moons to wain ;
But they fill up their Ebbs again :
But vanisht man,
Like to a Lilly-lost, nere can,
Nere can repullulate, or bring
His dayes to see a second Spring.
4. But on we must, and thither tend,
Where Anchus and rich Tullus blend
Their sacred seed ;
Thus has Inf email Jove decreed ;
We must be made,
Ere long, a song, ere long, a shade,
Why then, since life to us is short,
Lets make it full up, by our sport. . . .
7. If we can meet, and so conferre,
Both by a shining Salt-seller ;
And have our Roofe,
Although not archt, yet weather proofe,
And seeling free,
From that cheape Candle baudery :
We'le eate our Beane with that full mirth,
As we were Lords of all the earth. . . .
12 Fie call my young
Julus to sing such a song
I made upon my Julia's brest ;
And of her blush at such a feast
13. For to beget
In me a more transcendant heate,
Then that insinuating fire,
Which crept into each aged Sire.
455
14. When the faire Hellen, from her eyes,
Shot forth her loving Sorceries :
At which Pie reare
Mine aged limbs above my chaire :
And hearing it,
Flutter and crow, as in a fit
Of fresh concupiscence, and cry,
No lust theres like to Poetry.
15. Thus frantick crazie man (God wot)
He call to mind things half forgot :
And oft between,
Repeat the Times that I have seen ! . . .
1 6. Then next Fie cause my hopefull Lad
(If a wild Apple can be had)
To crown the Hearth,
(Larr thus conspiring with our mirth)
Then to infuse
Our browner Ale into the cruse :
Which sweetly spic't, we'l first carouse
Unto the Genius of the house. . . .
1 8. To those, and then agen to thee
We'l drink, my Wickes, untill we be
Plump as the cherry,
Though not so fresh, yet full as merry
As the crickit ;
The untam'd Heifer, or the Pricket,
Untill our tongues shall tell our ears,
Ware younger by a score of years.
19. This, till we see the fire lesse shine
From th' embers, than the killings eyne,
We'l still sit up,
Sphering about the wassail cup,
456
To all those times,
Which gave me honour for my Rhimes,
The cole once spent, we'l then to bed,
Farre more than night bewearied.
ROBERT HERRICK
His Age, dedicated to his peculiar friend., Mr. John
Wickes. Hesperides (1648)
REMEMBERING ONE'S AGE
It is my felicity to have remember how ridiculous I have
formerly thought old people who forgot their own age
when everybody else did not ; and it is lucky too that I
feel no disposition that can lead me into absurdities. The
present world might be my grandchildren ; as they are
not, I have nothing to do with them. I am glad they are
amused, but neither envy nor wish to partake of their
pleasures or their business. When one preserve one's
senses and faculties and suffers no pain, old age would
be no grievance but for one ; yet oh ! that one is a heavy
calamity — the surviving one's friends : nay, even the loss
of one's contemporaries is something ! at least I cannot
feel interested in a generation that I do not know.
HORACE WALPOLE, Letter to Sir Horace Mann (1784)
A FULL LIFE
I have seen a mistress of James the Second, the Duke of
Marlborough's burial, three or four wars, the whole
career, victories and death of Lord Chatham, the loss of
457
America, the second conflagration of London by Lord
George Gordon — and yet I am not so old as Methusalem
by four or five centuries ! In short, I can sit and amuse
myself with my own memory, and yet find new stores at
every audience that I give to it. Then, for private episodes,
varieties of characters, political intrigues, literary anec-
dotes, etc., the profusion that I remember is endless ; in
short, when I reflect on all I have seen, heard, read, written,
the many idle hours I have passed, the nights I have
wasted playing at faro, the weeks, nay months, I have
spent in pain, you will not wonder that I almost think I
have, like Pythagoras, been Panthoides Euphorbus, and
have retained one memory in at least two bodies.
Ibid. (1785)
A COMFORTABLE DOCTRINE
I shall soon enter the period which, as the most agreeable
of his long life, was selected by the judgement and experi-
ence of the sage Fontenelle. ... I am far more inclined to
embrace than to dispute this comfortable doctrine : I
will not suppose any premature decay of the mind or
body ; but I must reluctantly observe that two causes, the
abbreviation of time and the failure of hope, will always
tinge with a browner shade the evening of life. ... In old
age, the consolation of hope is reserved for the tenderness
of parents, who commence a new life in their children ;
the faith of enthusiasts who sing Hallelujahs above the
clouds, and the vanity of authors who presume the im-
mortality of their name and writings.
EDWARD GIBBON, Autobiography (1791)
458
GETTING OUT
Old Age brings along with its uglinesses the comfort that
you will soon be out of it. ... To be out of the war, out of
debt, out of the drouht, out of the blues, out of the
dentist's hands, out of the second thoughts, mortifica-
tions, and remorses that inflict such twinges and shotting
pains, — out of the next winter, the high prices, and
company below your ambition, — surely these are soothing
hints. And, harbinger of this, what an alleviator is
sleep, which muzzles all these dogs for me every day.
RALPH WALDO EMERSON, Journal (1864)
ORCHARDS
POMONA'S
In this kings reigne Pomona lived. There was not too bee
found
Among the woodnymphes any one in all the Latian
ground
That was so conning for too keepe an Ortyard as was shee,
Nor none so paynefull to preserve the frute of every tree.
And theruppon she had her name. Shee past not for the
woodes
Nor rivers, but the villages and boughes that bare both
buddes
459
And plentuous frute. In sted of dart a shredding hooke
shee bare.
With which the overlusty boughes shee eft away did
pare
That spreaded out too farre, and eft did make therwith
a rift
To greffe another imp uppon the stocke within the
clift.
And lest her trees should die through drought, with water
of the springs.
Shee moysteth of theyr sucking roots the little crumpled
strings.
This was her love and whole delyght. And as for Venus
deedes
Shee had no mynd at all for them. And forbycause shee
dreedes
Enforcement by the countrye folke, shee walld her yards
about.
Not suffring any man at all to enter in or out.
OVID
Metamorphoses (c. 5 B.c)
Trans. Arthur Golding (1567)
POLYPHEMUS'S
My Garden filPd with Fruits you may behold,
And Grapes in Clusters, imitating Gold ;
Some blushing Bunches of a Purple Hue,
And these, and those, are all reserv'd for you.
Red Strawberries, in Shades, expecting stand,
Proud to be gather'd by so white a Hand.
460
Autumnal Cornels later Fruit provide,
And Plumbs, to tempt you, turn their glossy Side :
Not those of common Kinds ; but such alone,
As in Phracian Orchards might have grown :
Nor Chestnuts shall be wanting to your Food,
Nor Garden-Fruits, nor Wildings of the Wood ;
The laden Boughs for you alone shall bear ;
And yours shall be the Product of the Year.
JOHN DRYDEN
Acts, Polyphemus and Galatea (1700)
From Ovid, Metamorphoses (c. 5 B.C.)
AT THE CROSSROADS
I, Hermes, stand here by the windy orchard at the cross-
roads near the grey sea-shore, resting tired men on their
way ; and the spring wells out cold pure water.
ANYTE OF TEGEA (3rd C. B.C.)
A FEAST
Up thou north wynde, come thou south wynde, and blowe
upon my garden, that the smel therof may be caried on
every syde. yee that my beloved may come into my garden,
and eate of the frutes and apples that growe therein.
Come in to my garden, O my syster,my Spouse: I have
gathered my Myrre with my spyce. I will eate my hony and
my hony combe, I wyll dryncke my wyne and my mylcke.
SALAMONS BALLET
Trans. Miles Coverdale. Matthew's Bible (1537)
461
WASSAILING
Wassail the Trees, that they may beare
You many a Plum, and many a Peare :
For more or lesse fruits they will bring,
As you doe give them Wassailing.
ROBERT HERRICK, Hesperides (1648)
KENTISH
Saluting the deare soyle, O famous Kent, quoth shee,
What Country hath this He that can compare with
thee, ....
Where Thames-ward to the shore, which shoots upon the
rise,
Rich Renham undertakes thy Closets to suffize
With Cherries, which wee say, the Sommer in doth bring,
Wherewith Pomona crowns the plump and lustfull Spring ;
From whose deepe ruddy cheeke, sweet Zephyrs kisses
steales,
With their delicious touch his love-sicke hart that heales.
Whose golden gardens seeme th'Hesperides to mock :
Nor there the Damzon wants, nor daintie Abricock,
Nor Pippin, which we hold of kernell-fruits the King,
The Apple-Orendge ; then the savory Russetting :
The Peare-maine, which to France long ere to us was
knowne,
Which carefull Frut'rers now have denizend our owne.
The Renat : which though first it from the Pippin came,
Growne through his pureness nice, assumes that curious
name,
462
Upon the Pippin stock, the Pippin beeing set ;
Aso on the Gentle, when the Gentle doth beget
(Both by the Sire and Dame beeing anciently descended)
The issue borne of them, his blood hath much amended.
The Sweeting, for whose sake the Plow-boyes oft make
warre :
The Wilding, Costard, then the wel-known Pomwater,
And sundry other fruits, of good, yet severall taste,
That have their sundry names in sundry Countries plac't.
MICHAEL DRAYTON
Poly-Olbion. Song XVIII (1612)
Ax NUN APPLETON
When we have run our Passions heat,
Love hither makes his best retreat.
The Gods, that mortal Beauty chase,
Still in a Tree did end their race.
Apollo hunted Daphne so,
Only that she might Laurel grow.
And Pan did after Syrinx speed,
Not as a Nymph, but for a Reed.
What wond'rous Life in this I leadf
Ripe Apples drop about my head ;
The Luscious Clusters of the Vine
Upon my Mouth do crush their Wine ;
The Nectaren and curious Peach,
Into my hands themselves do reach ;
Stumbling on Melons, as I pass,
Insnar'd with Flowers, I fall on Grass.
463
Mean while the Mind, from pleasure less,
Withdraws into its happiness :
The Mind, that Ocean where each kind
Does streight its own resemblance find ;
Yet it creates, transcending these,
Far other Worlds, and other Seas ;
Annihilating all that's made
To a green Thought in a green Shade.
Here at the Fountains sliding foot,
Or at some Fruit-tree's mossy root,
Casting the Bodies Vest aside,
My Soul into the boughs does glide :
There like a Bird it sits, and sings,
Then whets, and combs its silver Wings ;
And, till prepar'd for longer flight,
Waves in its Plumes the various Light.
Such was that happy Garden-state,
While Man there walk'd without a Mate :
After a Place so pure, and sweet,
What other Help could yet be meet !
But 'twas beyond a Mortal's share
To wander solitary there :
Two Paradises 'twere in one
To live in Paradise alone.
ANDREW MARVELL, The Garden (c. 1653 : pub. 1681)
WHEN TO TRANSPLANT ORANGE TREES
Now forasmuch as Gentlemen are very inquisitive when
were the best and securest season for exposing their
Orange-trees, and more tender curiosities, I give them
464
this for a rule the most infallible : that they observe the
Mulberry-tree, when it begins to put forth and open the
leaves (be it earlier or later) bring your Oranges &c.
boldly out of the Conservatory ; 'tis your onely season
to transplant and remove them.
JOHN EVELYN
Kalendarium Hor tense (1664)
MASTERING THE FRUIT-TREES
Who would not joy to see his conquering hand
Oe'r all the vegetable world command ?
And the wild gyants of the wood receive
What law hee's pleas 'd to give ?
Hee bids th'ill-natur'd crab produce
The gentler apples winy juice ;
The golden fruit that worthy is
of Galatea's purple kiss ;
Hee does the savage hawthorn teach
To bear the Medlar and the Pear ;
Hee bids the rustique Plum to rear
A nobler trunck, and bee a Peach,
Even Daphnes coyness hee does mock.
And weds the Cherry to her stock ;
Though shee refus'd Apollos suit ;
Ev'n she, the chast, and virgin tree,
Now wonders at her self, to see
That shee's a mother made, and blushes in her
fruit.
ABRAHAM COWLEY
The Garden (1666)
465
PARENTAL
INDISCRIMINATE LOVE OF INFANTS
I cannot receive this passion, wherewith some embrace
children scarsly borne, having neither motion in the soule,
nor forme well to be distinguished in the body, whereby
they might make themselves lovely or amiable. And I
could never well endure to have them brought up or
nursed neere about me. A true and well ordred affection
ought to be borne and augmented with the knowledge they
give us of themselves; and then, if they deserve it (naturall
inclination marching hand in hand with reason) to cherish
and make much of them, with a perfect fatherly love and
loving friendship, and conformably to judje of them if they
be otherwise, always yeelding our selves into reason . . .
For the most part, it goeth clean contrary, and commonly
we feele our selves more moved with the sports, idlenesse,
wantonnesse, and infant-trifles of our children, then after-
ward we do with all their actions, when they be men :
As if we had loved them for our pastimes, as we do apes,
monkies, or perokitoes, and not as man. And some that
liberally furnish them with sporting babies while they be
children, will miserably pinch it in the least expence for
466
necessaries when they grow men. Nay, it seemeth that the
jelousie we have to see them appeare into and injoy the
world, when we are ready to leave them, makes us more
sparing and close-handed toward them.
MICHEL DE MONTAIGNE
Essays : Of the affection of fathers to their
Children (1580)
Trans. John Florio (1603)
THE NAKED INDIAN'S QUESTION
None could answer the naked Indian, Why one Man
should take Pains, and run Hazards by Sea and Land all his
Life, that his Children might be safe and lazy all theirs.
SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE
Of Gardening (1685)
EATING JACKS
When Arch Bishop's Abbot's mother . . . was with child
of him, she did long for a jack, and she dreamt that if shee
should eat a jack, her son in her belly should be a great
man. She arose early the next morning, and went with her
payle to the river side ... to take up some water, and in
the water in her payle shee found a good jack, which she
dresst, and eat it all, or very near. Severall of the best in-
habitants of Guildford were invited (or invited themselves)
467
to the Christening of the child ; it was bred up a
Scholar in the town, and by degrees, came to be Arch
Bishop of Canterbury.
JOHN AUBREY, Miscellanies (1696)
Too HEAVY
There was a feast of Hera among the Argives, and it was by
all means necessary that their mother should be borne
in a car to the temple. But, since their oxen were not
brought up in time from the field, the young men, barred
from all else from lack of time, submitted themselves to
the yoke and drew the wain, their mother being borne by
them upon it ; and so they brought it on for five and forty
furlongs, and came to the temple. Then after they had done
this and been seen by the assembled crowd, there came to
their life a most excellent ending ; and in this the deity
declared that it was better for man to die than to continue
to live. For the Argive men were standing round and extol-
ling the strength of the young men, while the argive
women were extolling the mother to whose lot it had
fallen to have such sons ; and the mother, being exceedingly
rejoiced both by the deed itself and by the report made of
it, took her stand in front of the image of the goddess and
prayed that she would give to Cleobis and Biton her sons,
who had honoured her greatly, that gift which is best for
man to receive : and after this prayer, when they had
sacrificed and feasted, the young men lay down to sleep
within the temple itself, and never rose again.
HERODOTUS, History (5th cent. B.C.)
Trans. G. C. Macaulay
468
A PRODIGIOUS CHILD
Jan. 2jth, 1658. After six fits of a quartan ague with
which it pleased God to visite him, died my deare Son
Richard, to our inexpressible griefe and affliction, 5
yeares and 3 days old onely, but at that tender age a
prodigy for witt and understanding ; for beauty of body a
very angel ; for endowment of mind of incredible and
rare hopes. To give onely a little taste of them, and thereby
glory to God, sense of God he had learn'd all his cate-
chisme who out of the mouths of babes and infants does
sometimes perfect his praises : at 2 years and a halfe old
he could perfectly reade any of the English, Latine,
French, or Gottic letters, pronouncing the three first
languages exactly. He had before the 5th yeare, or in that
yeare, not onely skill to reade most written hands, but to
decline all the nouns, conjugate the verbs regular, and
most of the irregular ; learn'd out " Puerilis," got by
heart almost the entire vocabularie of Latine and French
primitives and words, could make congruous syntax,
turne English into Latine, and vice versa, construe and
prove what he read, and did the government and use of
relatives, verbs, substantives, elipses, and many figures
and tropes, and made a considerable progress in Comen-
ius's Janua ; began himselfe to write legibly, and had a
strong passion for Greeke. The number of verses he could
recite was prodigious, and what he remember'd of the
parts of playes, which he would also act; and when seeing
a Plautus in one's hand, he ask'd what booke it was, and
being told it was comedy, and too difficult for him, he
wept for sorrow. Strange was his apt and ingenious
application of fables and morals, for he had read /Esop ;
he had a wonderful disposition to mathematics, having
469
by heart divers propositions of Euclid that were read to
him in play, and he would make lines and demonstrate
them. As to his piety, astonishing were his applications
of Scripture upon occasion, and his early, and understood
the historical part of the Bible and New Testament to a
wonder, how Christ came to redeeme mankind, and how,
comprehending these necessarys himselfe, his godfathers
were discharg'd of their promise. These and the like
illuminations, far exceeding his age and experience,
considering the prettinesse of his addresse and behaviour,
cannot but leave impressions in me at the memory of him.
When one told him how many dayes a Quaker had fasted,
he replied that was no wonder, for Christ had said that
man should not live by bread alone, but by the Word of
God. He would of himselfe select the most pathetic
psalms, and chapters out of Job, to reade to his mayde
during his sicknesse, telling her when she pitied him,
that all God's children must suffer affliction. He de-
claim'd against the vanities of the world before he had
scene any. Often he would desire those who came to see
him to pray by him, and a yeare before he fell sick, to
kneel and pray with him alone in some corner. How
thankfully would he receive admonition, how soone be
reconciled ! how indifferent, yet continualy chereful !
He would give grave advice to his Brother John, beare
with his impertinencies, and say he was but a child. If he
heard of or saw any new thing, he was unquiet till he was
told how it was made ; he brought to us all such difficulties
as he found in books, to be expounded. He had learn'd
by heart divers sentences in Latin and Greeke, which on
occasion he would produce even to wonder. He was all
life, all prettinesse, far from morose, sullen, or childish
in any thing he said or did. The last time he had been
470
at church (which was at Greenewich), I ask'd him,
according to costome, what he remembered of the sermon;
two good things. Father, said he, bonum gratice and bonum
gloria, with a just account of what the preacher said.
JOHN EVELYN, Diary
AN EXCELLENT DAUGHTER
March IO//T, 1685. . . . The justnesse of her stature,
person, comeliness of countenance, gracefullnesse of
motion, unaffected th' more than ordinary beautifull,
were the least of her ornaments compared with those of
her mind. Of early piety, singularly religious, spending
a part of every day in private devotion, reading, and other
vertuous exercises, she had collected and written out
many of the most usefull and judicious periods of the
books she read in a kind of commonplace, She had read
and digested a considerable deale of history and of places.
The French tongue was as familiar to her as English;
she understood Italian, . . . and she did make very prudent
and discrete reflexions upon what she had observ'd of the
conversations among which she had at any time ben, . . .
She had an excellent voice, to which she play'd a thorough-
bass on the harpsichord, the sweetnesse of her voice
and management of it added such an agreeablenesse to
her countenance, without any constraint or concerne,
that when she sung, it was as charming to the eye as to
the eare ; What shall I say, .... of the cheerefullness
and agreeablenesse of her humour ? condescending to the
meanest servant in the family. . . . She would often
reade to them, examine, instruct, and pray with them if
they were sick, so as she was exceedingly beloved of every
body. Piety was so prevalent an ingredient of her con-
stitution (as I may say), that even amongst equals and
superiors she no sooner became intimately acquainted,
but she would endeavour to improve them, by insinuating
something of religious, . . . she had one or two confidents
with whom she used to passe whole dayes in fasting,
reading, and prayers, especialy before the monethly
communion and other solemn occasions. She abhorr'd
flattery, and tho* she had aboundance of witt, the
raillery was so innocent and ingenuous that it was most
agreeable ; she sometimes would see a play, but since
the stage grew licentious, express'd herselfe weary of
them, She never play'd at cards without extreame im-
portunity and for the company, but this was so very
seldome that I cannot number it among any thing she
could name a fault. No one could read prose or verse
better or with more judgment ; and as she read, so she
writ, not only most correct orthography, with that
maturitie of judgment and exactnesse of the periods,
choice of expressions, and familiarity of stile, that some
letters of hers have astonish'd me and others to whom
she has occasionally written. She had a talent of rehersing
any comical part or poeme, as to them she might be
decently free with ; she daunc'd with the greatest grace I
had ever scene. . . . Nothing affected, but natural and
easy as well in her deportment as in her discourse, which
was always materiall, not trifling, and to which the
extraordinary sweetnesse of her tone, even in familiar
speaking, was very charming. Nothing was so pretty as
her descending to play with little children, whom she
would caresse and humour with greate delight. But she
most affected to be with grave and sober men, of whom
she might learne something, and improve herselfe. . . .
472
comprehensive of uncommon notions, curious of know-
ing every thing to some excesse, had I not sometimes
repressed it. Nothing was so delightful to her as to go
into my study, where she would willingly have spent
whole dayes, for as I sayd she had read aboundance of
history and all the best poets, even Terence, Plautus,
Homer, Vergil, Ovid ; all the best romances and modern
poemes ; . . . but all these are vaine trifles to the virtues
which adorn'd her soule ; . . .
. . . There were foure gentlemen of quality offering to
treate with me about marriage, and I freely gave her her
owne choice, knowing her discretion. She showed greate
indifference to marrying at all, for truly, says she to her
mother (the other day), were I assured of your life and
my deare father's, never would I part from you ; I love
you and this home, where we serve God, above all things,
nor ever shall I be so happy ; I know and consider the
vicissitudes of the world, I have some experience of its
vanities, and but for decency more than inclination, and
that you judge it expedient for me, I would not change
my condition, but rather add the fortune you designe me
to my sisters, . . . This was so discreetly and sincerely
utter'd that it could not but proceede from an extra-
ordinary child, . . .
. . . Divers noble persons honour'd her funeral, some in
person, others sending their coaches, of which there were
six or seven with six horses, viz. the Countesse of Sunder-
land, Earle of Clarendon, Lord Godolphin, Sir Stephen
Fox, Sir Wm., Godolphin, Viscount Falkland and others.
There were distributed amongst her friends about 60
rings. iud.
473
A LAZY SON
LADY : It seemeth unto me, that . . . parents and masters
ought to search diligently, if their Children be adicted to
any vice, to free them from the same, even from their
youth, before they be over much rooted in them. I pray
you to tell me the truth (for I am not any of those foolish
mothers, which will never beleeve any imperfections of
children, but like the Ape, It seems unto them that they
be above al other faire and perfect) doe you finde any
bad inclination in mine ? . . .
MASTER : . . . your sonne Guy is somwhat slowe to rise in
the morning, for one must call him three or foure times
before he come out of his bed, I have thought good to tell
it you before his face, specially at this time, to the end it
may please you to take the paine to tell him his lesson,
as well as to his yonger brother.
LADY : Is it true ? Truly M. Champorte-advis, the greatest
faulte is in you, it is but a benumming of the limbes that
he hath, which you ought to supply, in annointing him
with the juice of Birch, which is excellent for such
a cure, and if you apply it but twise or thrice, You shall see
a mervailous operation, But if your medicine be not of
force, let me knowe it, and I will make him such a morning
song that it wil awake him in all diligence and hasten him
more then a good pace. Come hether freind, I am ashamd
to hear that what I hear of you, . . . You have attayned
to the age of nyne yeeres, at least to eight and a halfe, and
seeing that you knowe your dutie, if you neglect it you
deserve greater punishment than he which through
ignorance doth it not. Think not that the nobilite of your
Ancesters doth free you to doe all that you list, contrary-
wise, it bindeth you more to folio we vertue. . . .
PIERRE ERONDELL, The French Garden (1605)
474
MIDDLE CHILDREN
The Joyes of Parents are Secret ; And so are their Griefes,
and Feares : They cannot utter the one ; Nor they will
not utter the other. Children sweeten Labours ; but they
make Misfortunes more bitter : They increase the Cares
of Life ; but they mitigate the Remembrance of Death. . . .
The Difference in Affection, of Parents, towards their
severall Children, is many Times unequall ; And some-
times unworthy ; Especially in the Mother ; as Salomon
saith ; A wise Sonne rejoyceth the Father ; but an ungracious
Sonne shames the Mother. A Man shall see, where there
is a house full of Children, one or two, of the eldest,
respected, and the youngest made Wantons ; But in the
middest, some that are, as it were forgotten, who, many
times, neverthelesse, prove the best. FRANCIS BACON
Essay es : Of Parents and Children (1625)
BYRON'S DAUGHTER
I shall be glad to hear from you, and of your children and
mine. By the way, it seems that I have got another — a
daughter, by that same lady, whom you will recognise by
what I said of her in former letters. — I mean her who
returned to England to become a Mamma incog., and who
I pray the Gods to keep there. I am a little puzzled how
to dispose of this new production (which is two or three
months old, though I did not receive the accounts till at
Rome) but shall probably send for and place it in a Venetian
convent, to become a good Catholic, and (it may be) a
Nun, being a character somewhat wanted in our family.
475
They tell me it is very pretty, with blue eyes and dark
hair ; and, although I never was attached nor pretended
attachment to the mother, still in case of the eternal war
and alienation which I foresee about my legitimate daugh-
ter, Ada, it may be as well to have something to repose a
hope upon. I must love something in my old age, and
probably circumstances will render this poor little crea-
ture a great, and perhaps my only, comfort.
LORD BYRON
Letter to the Hon. Augusta Leigh (1817)
My little girl, Allegra, (the child I spoke to you of) has
been with me these three months : she is very pretty,
remarkably intelligent and a great favourite with every-
body ; . . . She has very blue eyes, and that singular fore-
head, fair curly hair, and a devil of a Spirit — but that is
Papa's. Ibid. (1818)
About Allegra, I can only say to Claire, that I so totally
disapprove of the mode of children's treatment in their
[the Shelley's] family, that I should look upon the Child
as going into a hospital. Is it not so ? Have they reared
one ? Her health here has hitherto been excellent^ and her
temper not bad ; she is sometimes vain and obstinate, but
always clean and cheerful, and as in a year or two I shall
either send her to England or put her in a Convent for
education, these defects will be remedied as far as they
can in human nature. But the Child shall not quit me
again to perish of Starvation and green fruit, or be taught
to believe that there is no Deity. . . .
476
The Girl is not so well off as with you, but far better
than with them ; the fact is she is spoilt, being a great
favourite with every body on account of the fairness of
her skin, which shines among their dusky children like
the milky way. . . . She has grown considerably, is very
clean and lively. She has plenty of air and exercise at home,
and she goes out daily with Me Guiccioli in her carriage
to the Corso.
Letter to R. B. Hoppner (1820)
Clare writes me the most insolent letters about Allegra ;
see what a man gets by taking care of natural children.
Were it not for the poor little child's sake, I am almost
tempted to send her back to her atheistical mother, but
that would be too bad. You cannot conceive the excess of
her insolence, and I know not why, for I have been
at great care and expense, taking a house in the country
on purpose for her [Allegra]. She has two maids, and every
possible attention. If Clare thinks she shall ever interfere
with the child's morals or education, she mistakes ; she
never shall. The girl shall be a Christian, and a married
woman, if possible. . . . She may see her, under proper
restrictions ; but she is not to throw everything into con-
fusion with her Bedlam behaviour. To express it deli-
cately, I think Madame Clare is a damned bitch. What
think you ? Ibidf (l820j
I have neither spared trouble nor expense in the care of
the child; and as she was now four years old complete, and
quite above the control of the servants, — and as a man
477
living without any woman at the head of his house cannot
much attend to a nursery — I had no resource but to place
her for a time (at a high pension too) in the convent of
Bagna-Cavalli, (twelve miles off) where the air is good,
and where she will, at least, have her learning advanced
and her morals and religion inculcated. . . . Abroad,
with a fair foreign education and a portion of five or
six thousand pounds, she might and may marry very
respectably. nidt (l82I)
I am no enemy to religion, but the contrary. As a proof,
I am educating my natural daughter a strict Catholic in
a convent of Romagna ; for I think people can never have
enough of religion, if they are to have any. ^^
Letter to Thomas Moore (1822)
AFFECTIONATE APES
The she Apes of all sorts are wondrous fond of their little
ones : and such as are made tame within house will carry
them in their armes all about so soon as they have brought
them into the world, keepe a shewing of them to every
bodie, and they take pleasure to have them dandled by
others, as if thereby they tooke knowledge that folke joyed
for their safe deliverance : but such a culling and hugging
of them they keep, that in the end with very clasping and
clipping they kill them many times. PLINY THE ELDER
Natural History (c. 77)
Trans. Philemon Holland (1601)
478
TREATING THEM ROUGH
The old Lord Gray (our English Achilles) when hee was
Deputie of Ireland, to inure his sonnes for the warre,
would usually in the depths of Winter, in frost, snow,
raine, and what weather soever fell, cause them at midnight
to be raised out of their beds, and carried abroad on hunting
till the next morning, then perhaps come wet and cold home,
having for a breakefast, a browne loafe and a mouldie
Cheese, or (which is ten times worse) a dish of Irish butter :
and in this manner the Spartans and Laconians dieted and
brought up their children, till they come into mans estate.
HENRY PEACHAM
The Compleat Gentleman (1622)
COCKERING THEM
Fond and foolish Parents . . . whose cockering and apish
indulgence (to the corrupting of the minds of their
Children, disabling their wits, effeminating their bodies)
how bitterly doth Plato taxe and abhorre !
Ibid.
Bronchus the son of Apollo^ whom he begot of Jance>
Succrons daughter (saith Lactantius) when he kept King
Admetus9 beards in Thessaly, now grown a man, was an
earnest suitor to his mother to know his father ; the
Nymph denied him, because Apollo had conjured her to
the contrary ; yet overcome by his importunity, at last
479
she sent him to his father ; when he came into Apollo's
presence, ... he carried himself so well, and was so
fair a yong man, that Apollo was infinitely taken with
the beauty of his person, he could scarce look off him
and said he was worthy of such parents, gave him a crown
of gold, the spirit of Divination, and in conclusion made
him a Demi-god.
ROBERT BURTON
Anatomic of Melancholy (1621. Edition 1652)
PARTIES
GOING OUT TO DINNER
I am vexed that you have given up going out to dinner,
for you have deprived yourself of much pleasure and
delight. Then too, I am afraid (for I may speak the truth
to you) that you will unlearn and forget your habit of
giving little dinners yourself. . . .
But by Hercules, Paetus, joking apart, I advise you to
do what I believe belongs to a happy life, and associate
with good, and agreeable men who are fond of you.
Nothing is better suited to happy living. And I don't re-
fer to the pleasures of appetite, but to good fellowship, and
that relaxation of mind which is effected most by familiar
conversation, and which is most delightful at convivial
banquets, as our nation, wiser than the Greeks, call them ;
480
for the latter call them symposia, or syndeipna, that is,
drinkings together, or dining together, but we call them
" livings together," for then do our lives most meet.
You see how I am trying to recall you to dinners by
philosophy ? Take care to keep well. The easiest way to do
this is to dine out.
CICERO
Letter to Papirius Paetus (43 B.C.)
SUPPER WITH THE WARDEN OF WADHAM
I sup'd with the warden of Wadham at his lodgings,
Mr. Lloyd being with me. He desir'd Mr Lloyd to bring
me with him. He gave me roast meat and beat me with the
spit. He told me that my book was full of contumelies,
falsities, contradictions, and full of frivolous stuff. . . . He
had the book there and read it scornfully.
ANTHONY WOOD
Life and Times (1674)
CAROUSING IN GUIANA
Those Guianians and also the borderers, and all others in that
tract which I have seen are marveylous great drunkardes,
in which vice I think no nation can compare with them :
and at the times of their solemne feasts when the Emperor
carowseth with his Captayns, tributories, and governours,
the manner is thus. All those that pledge him are first
stripped naked, and their bodies annoynted al over with a
kinde of white Balsamum (by them called Curcai) of which
Qp 481
there is great plenty and yet very deare amongst them, and
it is of all other the most pretious, whereof we have had
good experience : when they are annointed all over, certaine
servants of the Emperor having prepared gold made into
fine powder blow it thorow hollow canes upon their naked
bodies, until they be al shining from the foote to the head,
and in this sort they sit drinking by twenties and hundreds
and continue in drunkennes sometimes sixe or seven daies
togither : the same is also confirmed by a letter written
into Spaine which was intercepted, which master Robert
Dudley told me he had seen. SIR WALTER RALEIGH
The Discoverie of Guiana (1596)
MR. PEPYS ENTERTAINS
April 28, 1667. We had, with my wife and I, twelve at table,
and very good and pleasant company, and a most neat and
excellent but dear dinner ; but Lord ! to see with what
envy they looked upon all my fine plate was pleasant ;
for I made the best shew I could, to let them understand
me and my condition, to take down the pride of Mrs Clerke,
who thinks herself very great. We sat long, and very merry,
and all things agreeable ; and, after dinner, went out by
coaches . . . but I thought all the charge ought not to be
mine, and therefore I endeavoured to part the company.
Jan. 6, 1668. By and by to my house, to a very good sup-
per, and mighty merry, and good musick playing ; and after
supper to dancing and singing till about twelve at night ;
and then we had a good sack posset for them, and an excel-
lent cake, cost me near 2os., of our Jane's making, which was
482
cut into twenty pieces, there being by this time so many
of our company, by the coming in of ... some others of
our neighbours, young men that could dance, hearing of
our dancing ; . . . And so to dancing again, and singing,
with extraordinary great pleasure, till about two in the
morning, and then broke up They being gone, I paid
the fiddlers £3 among the four, and so away to bed, weary
and mightily pleased, and have the happiness to reflect
upon it as I do sometimes on other things, as going to a
play or the like, to be the greatest real comfort that I am
to expect in the world, and that it is that that we do really
labour in the hopes of; and so I do really enjoy myself, and
understand that if I do not do it now I shall not hereafter,
it may be, be able to pay for it, or have health to take
pleasure in it, and so fill myself up with vain expectations
of pleasure and go without it.
March i. 1669. Did resolve to go on with our feast and
dancing to-morrow ; and so, after supper, left the maids
to make clean the house, and to lay the cloth, and other
things against to-morrow, and we to bed.
March 2. Up and at the office till noon, when home,
and there I find my company come ... I had a noble
dinner for them as I almost ever had, and mighty merry,
and particularly pleased with looking on Betty Turner,
who is mighty pretty. We fell to dancing, and continued,
only with intermission for a good supper, till two in the
morning, the musick being Greeting, and another most ex-
cellent violin, and theorbo, the best in town. And so with a
mighty mirth, and pleased with their dancing of jigs . . . and
lastly W. Batelier's " Blackmore and Blackmore Mad,"
and then to a country-dance again, and so broke up with
483
extraordinary pleasure, as being one of the days and nights
of my life spent with the greatest content ; and that which I
can but hope to repeat again a few times in my whole life.
March 6. This day my wife made it appear to me that
my late entertainment this week cost me above £12, an
expence which I am almost ashamed of, though it is but
once in a great while, and is the end for which, in the most
part, we live, to have such a merry day once or twice in a
man's life.
SAMUEL PEPYS
Diary
BALLS
Twice a week there is a ball. ... I was there Friday last
with my aunt. . . . The place was so hot, and the smell so
different from what we are used to in the country, that I
was quite feverish when we came away. Aunt says it is the
effect of a vulgar constitution, reared among woods and
mountains, and that as I become accustomed to genteel
company, it will wear off.
TOBIAS SMOLLETT
Humphrey Clinker (1771)
AL FRESCO
. . . The other evening we happened to be got together
in a company of eighteen people, men and women of the
best fashion here, at a garden in the town to walk ; when
one of the ladies bethought herself of asking. Why should
484
we not sup here ? Immediately the cloth was laid by the
side of a fountain under the trees, and a very elegant supper
served up ; after which another said. Come, let us sing ;
and directly began herself: From singing we insensibly
fell to dancing, and singing in a round ; when somebody
mentioned the violins, and immediately a company of them
was ordered : Minuets were held in the open air, and then
came country dances, which held till four o'clock next
morning, at which hour the gayest lady there proposed
that such as were weary should get into their coaches,
and the rest of them should dance before them, with the
music in the van ; and in this manner we paraded through all
the principal streets of the city, and waked every body in it.
Mr Walpole had a mind to make a custom of the thing. . . .
THOMAS GRAY
Letter to his mother (Rheims, 1739)
AT MR. CONOLLY'S
The ball at Mr. Conolly's was by no means delightful —
the house is small, it was hot, and was composed of young
HORACE WALPOLE
Letter to George Montagu (1759)
A THE
. . . and came home in the evening to a The at Mrs
Montagu's. Perhaps you do not know that a The is among
the stupid new follies of the winter. You are to invite fifty
485
to a hundred people to come at eight o'clock : there is to
be a long table, or little parties at small ones ; the cloth is
to be laid, as at breakfast ; the table is covered with rolls,
wafers, bread and butter ; and what constitutes the very
essence of a The, an immense load of hot buttered rolls
and muffins, all admirably contrived to create a nausea in
persons fresh from the dinner table. Now, of all nations
under the sun, as I take it, the English are the greatest
fools : — because the Duke of Dorset in Paris, where
people dine at two, thought this would be a pretty fashion
to introduce, we, who dine at six, must adopt this French
translation of an English fashion. . . . This will be a short
HANNAH MORE
Letter to her Sister (1788)
A LATE PARTY
LADY : What is it a clocke ? I beleeve it is verie late.
MISTRIS : It is halfe an houre past ten Madam, almost
eleven.
LADY : We have been long at supper, then afterward we
have had dauncing . . . then came a Maske which made a
faire shewe. They played at Gardes, at Cent, at Primeroe,
at trompe, at dice, at Tables, at lurch, at Draughts, at
perforce, at pleasant, at blowing, at Queenes game, at
Chesses : The Maydens did play at purposes, at sales, to
thinke, at wonders, at states, at vertues, at answers, so
that we could not come sooner, but it is all one. We will
sleepe the longer to-morrow for amends.
PIERRE ERONDELL
The French Garden (1605)
486
COMING OUT AS ONE GOES IN
We talked of an evening society for conversation at a
house in town ... of which Johnson said, " It will never
do. Sir. There is nothing served about there, neither tea,
nor coffee, nor lemonade, nor anything whatever ; and
depend upon it, Sir, a man does not love to go to a place
from which he comes out exactly as he went in. ... I
told Mrs Thrale once, that as she did not choose to have
card tables, she should have a profusion of the best sweet-
meats, and she would be sure to have company enough
come to her."
JAMES BOSWELL
Life of Johnson (1791)
SOCIAL SUCCESS
The servant gave me my coat and hat, and in a glow of self-
satisfaction I walked out into the night. " A delightful
evening," I reflected, " the nicest kind of people. What I
said about finance and French philosophy impressed them ;
and how they laughed when I imitated a pig squealing."
But soon after, " God, it's awful," I muttered, " I
wish I were dead."
LOGAN PEARSALL SMITH
Trivia (1918)
487
PATRIOTISM
BRITISH
England as Good as Italy
I find no cause nor judge I reason why
My Countrey should give place to Lumbardy.
As goodly flow'rs on Thamesis doe growe
As beautifies the Bankes of wanton Po ;
As many Nymphs as haunt rich Arnus' strand
By silver Severne tripping hand in hand
Our shade's as sweet, though not to us so deere,
Because the Sunne hath greater power there.
MICHAEL DRAYTON, England's Heroicall Epistles (159?)
And the English as Witty as any People
Be it spoken to the honour of the English, our nation can
never want in any age such who are able to dispute the
Empire of Wit with any People in the Universe.
JOHN DRYDEN, Dramatick Poesy (1668)
In Fact., God's Chosen Nation
What does he then but reveal Himself to his servants, and
as his manner is, first to his Englishmen. . . . Behold now
488
this vast City ; a City of refuge, the mansion house of
liberty, encompast and surrounded with his protection ;
. . . there be pens and hands there, sitting by their studious
lamps, musing, searching, revolving new notions, and
idea's . . . others as fast reading, trying all things, assent-
ing to the force of reason and convincement. What could a
man require more from a Nation so pliant and so prone to
seek after knowledge. What wants there to such a towardly
and pregnant soile, but wise and faithfull labourers, to
make a knowing people, a Nation of Prophets, of Sages,
and of Worthies.
JOHN MILTON
Areopagitica (1643)
The Best Patron Saint
Henry the Fifth, he conquered all France,
He quartered their Arms, his Honour to advance,
He rac'd their Walls, and pull'd their Cities down,
And he garnished his Head with a double tripple Crown,
He thumped the French, and after home he came ;
But St. George, St. George he made the Dragon tame :
St. George he was for England, St. Dennis was for
France,
Sing, Honi soit qui maly pence.
St. David you know loves Leeks and toasted Cheese,
And Jason was the Man brought home the Golden Fleece,
And Patrick you know he was St. George's Boy,
Seven Years he kept his Horse, and then stole him away,
For which Knavish Act, a Slave he doth remain ;
St. George, St. George he hath the Dragon slain :
St. George he was for England, etc. . . .
489
Poldragon and Cadwallader of British Blood did boast ;
Tho' John of Gaunt his Foes did daunt, St George shall
rule the Roast ;
Agamemnon, and Clemedon, at Macedon did Feats,
But compared to our Champion, they are but meerly
Cheats ;
Brave Malta Knights in Turkish Fights, their brandish'd
Swords outdrew ;
But St. George, St. George met the Dragon, and run him
thro5 and thro'.
St. George he was for England, etc. ANON
A New Ballad of St. George and the Dragon
(late iyth c.)
The Only Peaceful Country
Now warre is all the world about,
And every where Erynnis raignes,
Or else the Torch so late put out
The stench remaines.
Holland for many yeares hath beene
Of Christian tragedies the stage,
Yet seldome hath she play'd a Scene
Of bloudyer rage.
And France that was not long composed
With civill Drummes againe resounds,
And ere the old one fully clos'd
Receives new wounds.
The great Gustavus in the west
Plucks the Imperiall Eagles wing,
Than whom the earth did ne're invest
A fiercer King. . . .
What should I tell of Polish Bands,
490
And the blouds boyling in the North ?
Gainst whom the furied Russians
Their troops bring forth. . . .
Only the Island which wee sowe,
(A world within the world) so farre
From present wounds, it cannot showe
An ancient skarre.
White Peace (the beautiful'st of things)
Seemes here her everlasting rest
To fix, and spreads her downy wings
Over the nest.
As when great Jove usurping Reigne
From the plagu'd world did her exile.
And ty'd her with a golden chaine
To one blest Isle.
Which in a sea of plenty swamme,
And Turtles sang on every bough,
A safe retreat to all that came,
As ours is now.
SIR RICHARD FANSHAWE
Ode (1630)
Writing in English
I apply'd myselfe to that resolution which Ariosto follow'd
against the perswasions of Bembo, to fix all the industry
and art I could unite to the adorning of my native tongue;
not to make verbal curosities the end, that were a toylsom
vanity, but to be an interpreter and relater of the best and
sagest things among mine own Citizens throughout this
Hand in the mother dialect. That which the greatest and
choycest wits of Athens, Rome, or modern Italy, and those
Hebrews of old did for their country, I in my proportion
with this over and above of being a Christian, might doe
491
for mine : not caring to be once nam'd abroad, though
perhaps I could attaine to that, but content with these
British Hands as my world, whose fortune hath hitherto
bin, that if the Athenians, as some say, made their small
deeds great and renowned by their eloquent writers, Eng-
landhaih had her noble achievments made small by the un-
skilfull handling of monks and mechanicks . JOHN MILTON
The Reason of Church-government urg'd against
Prelaty (1641)
British Trade
291.
The utmost Malice of their Stars is past,
And two dire Comets which have scourg'd the Town,
In their own Plague and Fire have breath'd their last :
Or, dimly, in their sinking sockets frown.
293.
Me-thinks already, from this Chymick flame,
I see a City of more precious mold :
Rich as the Town which gives the Indies name,
With Silver pav'd, and all divine with Gold.
295.
More great than human, now, and more August,
New deified she from her Fires does rise :
Her widening Streets, on new Foundations trust,
And, opening, into larger parts she flies.
297.
Now, like a Maiden Queen, she will behold,
From her high Turrets, hourly Sutors come :
The East with Incense, and the West with Gold,
Will stand, like Suppliants, to receive her Doom.
492
298.
The silver Thames,, her own domestick Floud,
Shall bear her Vessels, like a sweeping Train ;
And often wind (as of his Mistress proud)
With longing eyes to meet her Face again
299.
The wealthy Tagus, and the wealthier Rhine,
The glory of their Towns no more shall boast :
And Sein, that would with Belgian Rivers join,
Shall find her Lustre stain'd, and Traffick lost.
300.
The vent'rous Merchant, who design'd more far,
And touches on our hospitable Shore,
Charm' d with the Spendour of this Northern Star,
Shall here unlade him, and depart no more.
301.
Our powerful Navy shall no longer meet,
The wealth of France or Holland to invade :
The beauty of this Town without a Fleet,
From all the world shall vindicate her Trade.
302.
And while this fam'd Emporium we prepare,
The British Ocean shall such Triumphs boast,
That those who now disdain our Trade to share,
Shall rob like Pyrats on our wealthy Coast.
303.
Already we have conquer'd half the War,
And the less dang'rous part is left behind :
Our Trouble now is but to make them dare,
And not so great to Vanquish as to Find
493
304.
Thus to the Eastern wealth through Storms we go.
But now, the Cape once doubled, fear no more :
A constant Trade-wind will securely blow.
And gently lay us on the Spicy shore.
JOHN DRYDEN, Annus Mirdbilis (1666)
A Fond Hope
When Britain first at heaven's command,
Arose from out the azure main ;
This was the charter of the land,
And guardian Angels sung this strain :
" Rule, Britannia, rule the waves ;
Britons never will be slaves."
The nations, not so blest as thee,
Must, in their turn, to tryants fall :
Whilst thou shalt flourish great and free,
The dread and envy of them all.
Still more majestic shalt thou rise,
More dreadful, from each foreign stroke :
As the loud blast that tears the skies,
Serves but to root thy native oak.
Thee haughty tyrants ne'er shall tame :
All their attempts to bend thee down.
Will but arouse thy generous flame ;
And work their woe, and thy renown.
To thee belongs the rural reign ;
Thy cities shall with commerce shine :
All thine shall be the subject main,
And every shore it circles thine.
494
The muses, still with freedom found.
Shall to thy happy coast repair :
Blest isle, with matchless beauty crown'd,
And manly hearts to guard the fair.
" Rule, Britannia, rule the waves ;
Britons never will be slaves."
JAMES THOMSON
Alfred (1740)
ROMAN
Caring for the Republic
Mind you do not suspect me of having given up my care
for the republic. Be sure of this, Paetus, that, day and
night, I have no other motive or anxiety but that my fellow
citizens should be safe and free. On no occasion do I omit
to advise, act, and look ahead. In short, I am of such a
mind that, if in this charge and administration, my life
should be taken, I shall consider myself to have done
nobly. CICERO
Letter to Paetus (43 B.C.)
Rome shall rule
stet Capitolium
Fulgens triumphaatisque possit
Roma ferox dare jura Medis.
Horrenda late nomen in ultimas
Extendat oras, qua medius liquor
Secernit Europen ab Afro,
Qua tumidus rigat arva Nilus. . . .
495
Quicumque mundo terminus obstitit,
Hunc tanget armis, visere gestiens,
Qua parte debacchantur ignes,
Qua nebulae pluviique rores.
[Let the Capitol stand in glory, and let brave Rome be
able to dictate laws to the conquered Medes. Feared far
and wide, let her spread her name to the farthest shores,
where the middle sea divides Europe from the African,
where the swelling Nile waters the field. . . . Whatever
boundary is set to the world, this she shall touch with her
armies, rejoicing to visit both the regions where fires
rave, and those where there are mists and rainy dews.]
HORACE
De Roma Troiaque. Carmina> Bk. Ill (c. 20 B.C.)
ATHENIAN
We laugh at the simplicity of him who said that the moon
at Athens was better than the moon at Corinth.
PLUTARCH, Morals (c. 100)
SPARTAN
Sparta is fallen to thy lot (saith the proverbe) ; adorne and
honour it, for so thou are bound to doe ; be it that it is
of small or no account ; say that it is seated in an unwhole-
some aire, and subject to many diseases ; or plagued with
civill dissensions, or otherwise troubled. . . .
Ibid.
Trans. Philemon Holland (1601)
496
FRENCH
I have passed the world by, and I have taken history for
my life. Now it is over. I regret nothing. I demand noth-
ing. Ah, what should I demand, dear France, with whom
I have lived, whom I leave with so much regret ! With
what close companionship I have passed with you forty
years (ten centuries). What passionate, noble, austere
hours we have had together before dawn, even in winter !
What days of toil and study deep in the archives ! For you
I worked, came and went, searched, wrote. Each day I
gave the whole of myself, perhaps even more. Each new
morning, finding you on my table, I felt myself one with
you, strong with your powerful life and with your eternal
youth.
But how is it that, having had the singular happiness of
such a society, having lived for long years with your great
soul, I have not profted more in myself ? Ah ! it is because,
in order to re-create all that for you, I have had to re-
tread the long road of misery, of cruel experiences, of a
hundred morbid and deadly things. I have drunk too much
bitterness. I have swallowed too many calamities, too
many vipers, too many kings.
Well, my great France, if it has been necessary, in order
to find again your life, that one man should give himself,
should pass and re-pass so many times the river of the
dead, he consoles himself for it ; more, he thanks you.
And his greatest grief is that he must leave you here.
J. MICHELET
Preface to UHistoire de France (1869)
(Trans.)
497
AMERICAN
Land of coal and iron ! Land of gold ! land of cotton,
sugar, rice !
Land of wheat, beef, pork ! land of wool and hemp !
land of the apple and the grape !
Land of the pastoral plains, the grass-fields of the world !
land of those sweet-air'd interminable plateaus !
Land of the herd, the garden, the healthy house of
adobe ! . . .
Land of the eastern Chesapeake ! land of the Delaware !
Land of Ontario, Erie, Huron, Michigan !
Land of the Old Thirteen ! Massachusetts land ! Land of
Vermont and Connecticut !
Land of the ocean shores ! land of sierras and peaks !
Land of boatmen and sailors ! fishermen's land ! . . .
Far breath'd land ! Arctic braced ! Mexican breez'd ! the
diverse ! the compact !
The Pennsylvanian ! the Virginian ! the double Carolin-
ian !
O all and each well-loved by me ! my intrepid nations ! O
I at any rate include you all with perfect love ! . . .
Here for you ! and here for America !
Still the present I raise aloft, still the future of the States
I harbinge glad and sublime,
And for the past I pronounce what the air holds of the
red aborigines. WALT WHITMAN
Starting from Paumanok (1860)
And I will report of all heroism from an American point
of view. jud.
498
JEWISH
I was glad when they said unto me : We wil go into the
house of the Lord.
Our feet shal stand in thy gates : O Hierusalem.
Hierusalem is builded as a citie : that is a unitie in it selfe,
For thither the tribes goe up, even the tribes of the Lord ;
to testifie unto Israel, to give thankes unto the Name of
the Lord.
For there is the seate of judgement ; even the seate of the
house of David.
O pray for the peace of Hierusalem : they shall prosper
that love thee.
Peace be within thy walles : and plenteousnesse within
thy palaces.
For my brethren and companions sakes : I will wish thee
prosperitie.
Yea, because of the house of the Lord our God : I will
seek to doe thee good.
Psalm 122
Trans. Miles Coverdale (1611 edition)
By the waters of Babylon we sate downe and wept : when
wee remembred thee O Sion.
As for our harpes, we hanged them up : upon the trees
that are there in.
For they that led us away captive required of us then a
song and melodic, in our heavinesse : sing us one of
the songs of Sion.
How shal we sing the Lords song : in a strange land.
499
If I forget thee, O Hierusalem : let my right hand forget
her cunning.
If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the
roofe of my mouth : yea, if I preferre not Hierusalem
in my mirth.
Ibid. Psalm 137
GERMAN
Deutschland, Deutschland, iiber alles,
Uber alles in der Welt.
H. v. FALLERSLEBEN, Das Lied der Deutschen
Deutsche Worte hor ich wieder —
Sei begriisst mit Herz und Hand !
Land der Freude, Land der Lieder,
Schones heitres Vaterland !
Ibid. Heimkehr
ITALIAN
Bella Italia, amate sponde.
Pur vi torno a riveder !
Trema in petto, e si confonde
L'alma oppressa dal piacer,
Tua bellezza, che di pianti
Fonte amara ognor ti fu,
Di stranieri e crudi amanti
T'avea posta in servitu.
500
Ma bugiarda e mal sicura
La speranza fia de' re ;
II giardino di natura
No, pel barbari non e.
VINCENZO MONTI, Marengo (1802)
PORTUGUESE
Gentlemen, remember that you are Portuguese.
Address to troops before battle by a Portuguese
General during Peninsular War
PET ANIMALS
OSTRICHES
I beleeve you must be carefull of your Ostridge this
returne of cold wether, least it perish by being bredd in
so hot a countrey and perhaps not seen snowe before or
very seldome, so that I beleeve it must bee kept under
covert and have strawe to sitt upon and water sett by it to
take of both day and night ; must have it observed how it
sleepeth and whether not with the head under the wing,
especially in cold wether : whether it bee a wachfull and
quick hearing bird like a goose, for it seemes to bee like
a goose in many circumstances. It seemes to eat anything
501
that a goose will feed on, and like a goose to love the same
green hearbes and to delight in Lettuce, endive, sorrell,
&c. ... To geese they give oates &c moystnd with beere,
butt sometimes they are inebriated with it. If you give
any Iron, it may be wrapped up in dowe or past : perhaps
it will not take it up alone. You may trie whether it will
eat a worme or a very small eele ; whether it will drinck
milk, and observe in what manner it drincks water. . . . You
may lay a bay leafe by the oestridge and observe whether it
will take it up. ... When it is Anatomized, I suppose the
sceleton will bee made and you may stuffe the skinne with
the fethers on. ... If it delights not in salt things you
may trie it with an olive.
SIR THOMAS BROWNE
Letter to his son Edward (1681)
LAMPREYS
Caius Hirtius was the man by himselfe, that before all
others devised a pond to keep Lampreys in. ... In pro-
cesse of time folk grew to have a love and cast a fancy to
some one several! fish above the rest. For the excellent
Orator Hortensius had an house at Bauli, upon the side
that lieth to Baiae, and a fish-pond to it belonging : and
he took such an affection to one Lamprey in that poole,
that when it was dead (by report) he could not hold but
weep for love of it. Within the same poole belonging to
the said house, Antonia the wife of Drusus (unto whom
they fell by inheritance) had so great a liking to another
Lamprey, that she could find in heart to decke it, and to
hang a paire of golden earings about the guils thereof.
502
And surely for the novelty of this strange sight, and the
name that went thereof, many folke had a desire to see
Bauli, and for nothing else.
PLINY THE ELDER, Natural History (c. 77)
Trans. Philemon Holland (1601)
SPARROWS
Sparrow, the darling of my girl, with whom she plays,
whom she holds in her lap, or gives you her finger to
peck, and incites you to bite sharply
My girl's sparrow is dead, my girl's pet, whom she
loved more than her own eyes : for he was as sweet as
honey, and knew her as well as a girl knows her own
mother. Nor would he move from her lap, but hopping
about now here now there, chirped continuously to his
mistress only. Now he goes along the dark road to the
place whence, they say, none returns.
CATULLUS, Carmina (c. 60 B.C.)
And prytily he wolde pant
When he saw an ant.
Lord, how he wolde prye
After a buterflye !
Lord, how he wolde hoppe
After the grassoppe !
And when I said Phip, Phip !
Than he wolde lepe and skyppe,
And take me by the lyppe. JOHN SKELTON
The Boke of Philipp Sparrowe (c. 1500)
503
And so home and to dinner with my father and sister and
family, mighty pleasant all of us ; and, among other things,
with a sparrow that our Mercer hath brought up now for
three weeks, which is so tame that it flies up and down,
and upon the table, and eats and pecks, and do every thing
so pleasantly, that we are mightily pleased with it.
SAMUEL PEPYS
Diary (May 31, 1666)
DRAGONS
There was a little Dragon-whelp bred in Arcadia, and
brought up familiarly with a little boy from his infancy,
until the Boy became a young Man, and the Dragon also
became of great stature, so that one of them loved another
so well as Man and beast could love together, or rather
two play-fellows from the Cradle. At last the friends of the
Boy seeing the Dragon grow so great in so short a space,
began to be suspicious of him ; whereupon they took the
bed wherein the Boy and the Dragon were lodged, and
carryed the same into a far remote place of Woods and Wil-
dernesse, and there set down the bed with the Boy and the
Dragon together. The boy after a little while returned, and
came home again to his friends ; the Dragon wandered up
and down in the Woods, feeding upon herbs and poyson,
according to his nature, and never more cared for the
habitation of men, but rested content with a solitary life.
In the length of time it came to passe that the boy grew
to be a perfect man, and the Dragon also remained in the
Wood, and although absent one from the other, yet mutu-
ally loving as well as ever. It hapned that this young man
504
travelled through that place where the Dragon was
lodged, and fell among theeves, when the young man saw
their swords about his ears, he cryed out, and the Dragons
den being not far off,, his cry came to the Dragons ears,
who instantly knowing the voice of his play-fellow,
answered the same with another, at whose hissing the
theeves grew afraid, and began to run away, but their legs
could not carry them so fast as to escape the Dragons teeth
and claws ; for he came speedily to release his friend, and
all the theeves that he could find, he put to cruel death,
then did he accompany his friend out of the place of peril,
and returned back again to his den, neither remembering
wrath, that he was exposed to the Wildernesse, and there
left by his play-fellow nor yet like perverse men, forsaking
their old friends in danger.
PLINY THE ELDER
Natural History (c. 77)
Trans. Philemon Holland (1601)
HORSES
Caligula . . . loved Prasinus the Cochman so wel, that for
good wil to the master, he bid his horse to supper, gave
him wine to drink in cups of estate, set barly graines of
golde before him to eate, and swore by no bugs, that hee
would make him a Consul : which thing (saith Dion) had
bin performed, had hee not bin prevented by suddain
death.
STEPHEN GOSSON
The Schoole of Abuse (1579)
505
DOGS
Among those domesticall creatures that converse with us,
there be many things worth the knowledge : and namely,
as touching dogges . . . and also horses. I have heard it
credibly reported of a dogge, that in defence of his master
fought hard against theeves . . . and albeit he were sore
wounded even to death, yet would he not abandon the
dead body of his master, but drave away both wild foule
and savage beast, from seizing of his carkasse. Also of an-
other in Epirus, who in a great assembly of people know-
ing the man that had murdered his Mr. flew upon him
with open mouth, barking and snapping at him so furious-
ly... until he at length confessed the fact. . . . Duris makes
mention of another dogge, which he named Hircanus,
that so soone as the funerall fire of king Lysimachus his
master was set a-burning, leapt into the flame. ... A
dog that Nicomedes king of Numidia kept flew upon the
queene Consingis his wife, and al to mangled and worried
her, for toying and dallying overwantonly with the king
her husband. . . . They be the only beasts of all others
that know their masters, and let a stranger unknown be
come never so suddenly, they are ware of his coming and
give warning. They alone know their own names, and all
those of the house by their speech. Be the way never so
long, and the place from whene they came never so far,
they remember it, and can go thither againe. . . .As furious
and raging as they be otherwhiles, yet appeased they wil
be and quieted, by a man sitting downe upon the ground.
. . . The longer we live, the more things we observe and
marke still in these dogges. . . .
PLINY THE ELDER, Natural History (c. 77)
Trans. Philemon Holland (1601)
506
Of the Delicate, Neate, and Pretty Kind of Dogges
called the Spaniel Gentle, or the Comforter, in
Latine Melitoeus or Fotor
These dogges are title, pretty, proper and fyne, and sought
for to satisfie the delicatenesse of daintie dames, and wan-
ton womens wills, instrumentes of folly for them to play
and dally withall, to tryfle away the treasure of time, to
withdraw their mindes from more commendable exercises,
and to content their corrupted concupiscencees with vaine
disport (a selly shift to shunne yrcksome ydlenesse) . These
puppies the smaller they bee, the more pleasure they pro-
voke, as more meete play fellowes for minsing mistresses
to beare in their bosoms, to keepe company withal in their
chambers, to succour with sleepe in bed, and nowrishe with
meate at bourde, to lay in their lappes, and licke their
lippes as they ryde in their waggons. . . . That plausible
proverbe verifie upon a Tyraunt, namely that he loved
his sowe better then his sonne, may well be applyed to
these kinde of people who delight more in dogges that are
deprived of all possibility of reason, then they doe in
children that be capable of wisedome and judgement.
JOHN CAius, Treatise of English Dogges (1570)
Trans, from Latin by Abraham Fleming (1576)
Of the Mastive or Bandogge . . . called
in Latine Cam's Lunarius, in Englishe
the Mooner
Because he doth nothing else but watch and warde . . .
wasting the wearisome night season without slombering
or sleeping, bawing and yawing at the Moone ... a
qualitie in mine opinion strange to consider.
507
. . . They meet their Master with reverence and joy,
crouching or bending a little, (like shamefast and modest
persons) and although they know none but their Masters
and familiars, yet will they help any man against another
Wilde beast
There was a Dog in Venice which had been three years
from his Master, yet knew him again in the Market place ;
discerning him from thousands of people present. He
remembreth any man which giveth him meat ; when he
fauneth upon a man he wringeth his skin in the forehead.
. . . JElianus thinketh that Dogs have reason. . . . There
was a Dog in Africa in a ship, which in the absence of the
Mariners came to a pitcher of oil to eat some of it, and the
mouth of the pot being too narrow for his head to enter in
(because the pot was not full) he devised to cast flint stones
into the vessel, whereby the Oil rose to the top of the Pitcher,
and so he eat therof his fill, giving evident testimony
thereby, that he discerned by nature, that heavy things will
sink down and light things will rise up and flie aloft. . . .
When a Dragon was setting upon Orpheus, as he was
occupied in hawking, by his Dogs his life was saved,
and the Dragon devoured. . . .
There was never anything more strange in the nature of
Dogs, to then that which happened at Rhodes besieged
by the Turks, for the Dogs did there discern between
Christians and Turks ; for towards the Turks they were most
eager, furious and unappeasable, but towards Christians,
although unknown, most easie, peaceable, and placidious.
Of the Mimicky or Getulian-Dog, and the
little Melitaean-Dogs of Gentlewomen
There is also in England two other sorts of Dogs, . . .
being apt to imitate all things it seeeth, for which cause
508
some have thought that it was conceived by an Ape ; for
in wit and disposition it resembleth an Ape, but in face
sharpe and blacke like a Hedge-hog, having a short recurved
body, very long legs, shaggie hair, and a short tail ; . . .
these being brought up with Apes in their youth learn
very admirable and strange feats, whereof there were great
plenty in Egypt in the time of King Ptolemy , which were
taught to leap and play, and dance, at the hearing of
musick, and in many poor mens houses they served in
stead of servants for divers uses.
These are also used by Players and Puppet-Mimicks to
work strange tricks, for the sight whereof they get much
money : such an one was the Mimicks dog, of which
Plutarch writeth that he saw in a publick spectacle at
Rome before the Emperor Vespasian. The Dog was taught
to act a play, wherein were contained many persons parts
... at last there was given him a piece of bread, wherein,
as wass said, was poison, having virtue to procure a dead
sleep, which he received and swallowed: and presently after
the eating thereof he began to reel and stagger to and fro
like a drunken man, and fell down to the ground as if he
had been dead, and so lay a good space not stirring foor nor
limb, . . . but when he percived by the time and other
signes that it was requisite to arise, he first opened his
eyes, and lift up his head a little, then stretched forth him-
self like as one doth when he riseth from sleep ; at the
last, up he getteth and turneth to him to whom that part
belonged, not without the joy and good content of Caesar
and all other the beholders. . . .
There is a Town in Pachynus, a Promontory of Sicily
(called Melita) from whence are transported many fine
little dogs they were accounted the Jewels of Women, but
now the said Town is possessed by Fisher-men, and there
509
is no such reckoning made of those tender little Dogs,
for these are not bigger than common Ferrets, or Weasils,
yet are they not small in understanding, nor mutable in
their love to men : for which cause they are also nourished
tenderly for pleasure. . . .
Now a dayes they have found another breed of little
Dogs in all Nations. . . . They are not above a foot, or
half a foot long, and alway the lesser, the more delicate
and precious. . . . They are of pleasant disposition and will
leap and bite without pinching, and bark prettily, and
some of them are taught to stand upright holding up their
fore legs like hands ; other to fetch and carry in their
mouths, that which is cast unto them. . . .
Publius had a little dog (called Issa) having about the
neck two silver bels, upon a silken Collar, which for the
neatness thereof, seems to be rather a picture than a
creature ; whereof Martial made an elegant epigram.
EDWARD TOPSELL
History of Four-Footed Beasts and Serpents (1607)
Beloved little Bitch
Issa is more wicked than Catullus's sparrow, Issa is
cleaner than a dove's kiss, Issa is more caressing than
any girl, Issa is more precious than Indian gems, Issa is
Publius's beloved little bitch. You think she is speaking if
she whines ; she feels joy and grief. She lies resting on his
neck, and sleeps so that her breathing is not heard ; and
when impelled by the requirements of her inside, she never
by one drop betrays the coverlet, but with coaxing paw she
rouses and warns you to put her down from the bed, and
asks to be taken up again. Such is the modesty of this
510
chaste little dog that she knows nothing of love, nor can
we find a husband worthy of so tender a maid. In order
that death may not take her from his sight altogether,
Publius has expressed her in a picture, in which you will
see so similar an Issa that not even she herself is so like
herself.
MARTIAL, Epigrams (c. 84)
A little Cur-Dog
This William (the founder of this family) had a little cur-
dog which loved him, and the earl loved the dog. When
the earle dyed the dog would not goe from his master's
dead body, but pined away, and dyed under the hearse ;
the picture of which dog is under his picture, in the
Gallery at Wilton. Which putts me in mind of a parallell
storie in Appian (Syrian Warr) : — Lysimachus being
slaine, a dog that loved him stayed a long time by the
body and defended it from birds and beasts till such time
as Thorax, king of Pharsalia, finding it out gave it buriall.
JOHN AUBREY
Brief Lives : William Herbert^ ist Earl of Pembroke
CATS
He is a full lecherous beast in youth, swift, pliant, and
merrie, and leapeth and reseth on althing that is to
fore him : and is led by a straw, and playeth therewith :
and is a right heavie beast in age and full sleepy, and lieth
slily in wait for mice : and is ware they be, more by smell
than by sight, and hunteth and reseth on them in privy
places : and when he taketh a mouse, he plaieth there-
with, and eateth him after the play And they maketh
a ruthful noise and gastful, when one proffereth to fight
with another. *>
BARTHOLOMEW ANGLicus, De Proprietatibus Rerum
Trans. John Trevisa (13983 modernized 1582)
Turkic Gentlewomen, that are perpetuall prisoners, still
mewed up according to the custome of the place, have
little else beside their household businesse, or to play with
their children, to drive away time, but to dally with their
cats, which they have in delictis, as many of our Ladies
and Gentlewomen use Monkies and little Doggs.
ROBERT BURTON
The Anatomy of Melancholy (1621. Edition 1632)
GEESE
Their watch and warde is good and gainfull, being indeed
better than that of the dogge, as hath beene shewed long
agoe by the geese of the Capitoll in Rome, who awaking
the souldiers and standing watch, were the cause that the
enimie was repulsed and driven backe : againe, she
declareth when winter draweth nigh by her continuall
squeaking and crying, she layeth egges, hatcheth goslings,
affoordeth feathers twise a yeere for the bed, for writing,
and for shaftes, which are gathered at the spring and
Autumne.
CHARLES ESTIENNE, La Maison Rustique (1572)
Trans. Richard Surflet (1600)
512
BEES
The householder shall make choice for the keeping of his
bees of some fit and secret place in his Garden of Pleasure,
in the bottome of some valley if it be possible, to the end
they may the more easily rise on high to fly abroad to get
their food, as also for that when they be laden, they
descend the more easily downward with their load. But
let us see to it especially that the place be open to the
South sun, and yet notwithstanding, neither exceeding
in heat nor in cold, but temperate ; and that the same by
hill, wall, or some other rampart be defended from windes
and tempests, and so also as that they may flie their
sundrie and severall waies for to get diversitie of pastures,
and so againe may returne to their little cottages laden
with their composition of hony ; and againe in such a
place, as wherein there is great quantitie of thyme, organic,
ivie, winter savorie, wild thyme, rosemary, sage, corne-
flag or gladdon, gilleflowres, violets, white lilies, roses,
flowre-gentill, basil, saffron, beanes, poppie, melilot,
milfoile and other sweet herbs.
Ibid.
HARES
Puss grew presently familiar, would leap into my lap,
raise himself upon his hinder feet, and bite the hair from
my temples. ... He was ill three days, during which time
I nursed him . . . and by constant care and trying him with
a variety of herbs, restored him to perfect health. No
creature could be more grateful than my patient after
Rp 513
his recovery ; a sentiment which he most significantly
expressed, by licking my hand. ... It was visible, from
many symptoms which I have not room to enumerate,
that he was happier in human society than when shut
up with his natural companions. . . . You will not wonder.
Sir, that my intimate acquaintance with these specimens
of their kind has taught me to hold the sportsman's
amusement in abhorrence : he little knows what amiable
creatures he persecutes, of what gratitude they are capable,
how cheerful they are in their spirits, what enjoyment
they have of life, and that, impressed as they seem with a
peculiar dread of man, it is only because man gives them
peculiar cause for it. WILLIAM COWPER
Letter to the Gentleman's Magazine (June 1784)
BYRONIC Zoo
Lord B.'s establishment consists, besides servants, of
ten horses, eight enormous dogs, five cats, an eagle, a
crow, and a falcon ; and all these, except the horses, walk
about the house, which every now and then resounds with
their unarbitrated quarrels, as if they were the masters
of it. . . .
After I have sealed my letter, I find that my enumera-
tion of the animals in this Circaean palace was defective,
and that in a material point. I have just met on the grand
stair-case five peacocks, two guinea-hens, and an Egyptian
crane. I wonder who all these animals were, before they
were changed into these shapes.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY
Letter to Thomas Love Peacock (Ravenna, 1821)
514
MERMAIDS
Neither can I but admire what I find recorded in the
historic of the Netherlands, of a Sea-woman who was
taken up in the streights of a broken dike near to the
towns of Campen and Edam, brought thither by a sea-
tempest and high tide, where floating up and down and
not finding a passage out again (by reason that the breach
was stopped after the floud) was espied by certain women
and their servants as they went to milk their kine in the
neighbouring pastures, who at the first were afraid of her,
but seeing her often they resolved to take her, which they
did ; and bringing her home, she suffered her self to be
clothed, fed with bread, milk, and other meats, and would
often strive to steal again into the sea, but being carefully
watched she could not : moreover she learned to spinne,
and perform other pettie offices of women, but at the first
they cleaned her of the sea-mosse which did stick about
her. She was brought from Edam and kept at Harlam,
where she would obey her mistris, and (as she was taught)
kneel down with her before the crucifix, never spake, but
lived dumbe and continued alive (as some say) fifteen
years ; then she died. This is credibly reported by the
Authour of that history, by the writer of the Chronicles
of Holland, and in a book called the Theatre of cities.
They took her in the yeare of our Lord 1403.
JOHN SWAN
Speculum Mundi (1635)
515
PLAY-GOING
REASONS FOR GOING TO THE PLAY
The Play-House is an inchanted Island, where nothing
appears in reality what is, nor what should be. 'Tis
frequented by persons of all degrees and equalities whatso-
ever, that have a great deal of idle time lying upon their
hands and can't tell how to employ it worse. Here Lords
come to laugh, and to be laughed at for being there, and
seeing their qualities ridicul'd by every triobolary poet.
Knights come hither to learn the amorous Smirk, the
alamode Grin, the antick Bow, the new-fashioned
Cringe, and how to adjust their Phiz. . . . Hither come the
Country- Gentlemen to shew their shapes, and trouble the
Pit with their Impertinence about Hawking, Hunting,
their handsome Wives, and their Housewifery. . . . Here
the Ladies come to shew their Cloathes.
TOM BROWN
Amusements Serious and Comicall (1700)
SUCH A SET OF BEINGS!
" Bear me, some God, O quickly bear me hence,
To wholesome solitude, the nurse of "
" Sense," I was going to add in the words of Pope, till I
recollected that pence had a more appropriate meaning,
and was as good a rhyme. This apostrophe broke from me
on coming from the opera, the first I ever did., the last I
trust I ever shall go to. For what purpose has the Lord of
the universe made His creature man with a comprehen-
sive mind ? Why make him a little lower than the angels ?
Why give him the faculty of thinking, the power of wit and
memory; and, to crown all, an immortal and never-dying
spirit ? Why all this wondrous waste, this prodigality of
bounty, if the mere animal senses of sight and hearing (by
which he is not distinguished from the brutes that perish)
would have answered the end as well ; and yet I find the
same people are seen at the opera every night — an amuse-
ment written in a language the greater part of them do not
understand, and performed by such a set of beings ! . . .
Going to the Opera, like getting drunk, is a sin that carries
its own punishment with it, and that a very severe one.
HANNAH MORE
Letter to her Sister (1775)
MORTIFYING THE POETS
MELLEFONT : But does your Lordship never see Comedies ?
LORD FROTH : O yes, sometimes — But I never laugh.
MEL.: No?
LORD F. : Oh no, — Never laugh indeed, Sir.
CARELESS : No ! why what d'ye go there for ?
LORD F. : To distinguish myself from the Commonalty,
517
and mortitie the Poets ; the Fellows grow so conceited,
when any of their foolish Wit prevails upon the Side-
Boxes. — I swear — he, he, he, I have often constrained my
inclination to laugh — he, he, he, to avoid giving them
encouragement.
WILLIAM CONGREVE
The Double-Dealer (1694)
FAIR WENCHES
From the first age the Theater hath bin,
Even like a trap to take faire wenches in.
Frequent the Tilt-yard, for there oft-times are
Clusters of people thronging at the barre.
Thou shalt not need there with thy fingers beckon,
Of winking signes, or close nods doe not reckon :
But where thy Mistris sits doe thou abide,
Who shall forbid thee to attaine her side,
As neare as the place suffers see thou get,
That none betwixt thee and her selfe beset :
If thou beest mute and bashfull, I will teach
How to begin, and breake the ice of speech.
Aske whose that horse was, what he was did guide
him,
Whence comes he, if he well or ill did ride him.
Which in the course of barriers best did do,
And whom she likes, him doe thou favour to.
OVID
Art of Love (2 B.C.)
Trans. Thomas Hey wood (1600 ?)
518
GOINGS-ON AMONG THE AUDIENCE
In our assemblies at playes in London, you shall see suche
heaving and shooving, suche ytching and shouldring, to
sitte by women; Suche care for their garments, that they
bee not trode on ; Such eyes to their lappes, that no chippes
light in them : Such pillowes to their backes, that they take
no hurte : Such masking in their eares, I knowe not what :
Such giving them Pippins to passe the time : Suche
playing at foote Saunt without Gardes : Such ticking,
such toying, such smiling, such winking, and such man-
ning them home, when the sportes are ended, that it is a
right Comedie, to marke their behaviour, to watche their
conceites.
STEPHEN GOSSON
The Schoole of Abuse (1579)
PRISON
A HOME FROM HOME
The doctor then proposed that I should be removed into
the prison infirmary ; and this proposal was granted. . . .
The infirmary was divided into four wards, with as many
small rooms attached to them . . . and one of these, not
very providently (for I had not yet learned to think of
money) I turned into a noble room. I papered the walls
519
with a trellis of roses ; I had the ceiling coloured with
clouds and sky ; the barred windows I screened with
Venetian blinds ; and when my bookcases were set up
with their busts, and flowers and a pianoforte made their
appearance, perhaps there was not a handsomer room on
that side the water. . . . Charles Lamb declared there
was no other such room, except in a fairy tale.
But I possessed another surprise ; which was a garden.
There was a little yard outside the room, railed off from
another belonging to the neighbouring ward. This yard
I shut in with green palings, adorned it with a trellis,
bordered it with a thick bed of earth from a nursery, and
even contrived to have a grass-plot. The earth I filled
with flowers and young trees. There was an apple-tree,
from which we managed to get a pudding the second
year. As to my flowers, they were allowed to be perfect.
Thomas Moore, who came to see me with Lord Byron,
told me he had seen no such heart's-ease. I bought the
Parnaso Italiano while in prison, and used often to think of
a passage in it while looking at this miniature piece of
horticulture : Here I wrote and read in fine weather, some-
times under an awning. In autumn, my trellises were
hung with scarlet-runners, which added to the flowery
investment. I used to shut my eyes in my arm-chair, and
affect to think myself hundreds of miles off. ...
I entered prison the 3rd of February 1813, and removed
to my new apartments the i6th of March, happy to get
out of the noise of the chains. When I sat amidst my
books, and saw the imaginary sky overhead, and my paper
roses about me, I drank in the quiet at my ears as if they
were thirsty. . . .
These rooms, and the visits of my friends, were the bright
side of my captivity. . . . My friends were allowed to be
520
with me till ten o'clock at night Even William Hazlitt,
who there first did me the honour of a visit, would stand
interchanging amenities at the threshold. . . . The Lambs
came to comfort me in all weathers, hail or sunshine, in
daylight and in darkness, even in the dreadful frost and
snow of the beginning of 1814.
LEIGH HUNT
Autobiography (1850)
WRITING HISTORY
Sir Walter was left to his Majesties mercy, who thought
him too great a Malecontent to have his Freedom, and
probably too innocent to lose his Life. Therefore to the
Tower he is confin'd, but permitted to enjoy Libera
Custodia ; where he improv'd his Imprisonment to the
greatest advantage of Learning and Inquisitive Men. Since
his Majesty had civilly buried him, and as it were banish'd
him this World, he thought it no Treason to disturb
the Ashes of former times, and bring to view the Actions
of deceased Heroes. . . . After some time past there, he
was delivered of that great Minerva, the History of the
World ; a Book which for the exactness of its Chronology,
Curiousness of its Contexture and Learning of all sorts,
seems to be the Work of an Age. An History which never
yet met with a Detractor, and was the Envy, if some
Authors may be credited, of King James himself, who
thought none could out-do him at the Pen.
LIFE OF SIR WALTER RALEIGH
(Prefaced to 1687 edition of the History of
the World)
521
A SHOWER OF GOLD
When Acrisius inquired of the oracle how he should get
male children, the god said that his daughter would give
birth to a son who would kill him. Fearing that, Acrisius
built a brazen chamber under ground, and there imprisoned
Danae. However, she was seduced, some say by Proteus
. . . but some say that Zeus had intercourse with her in
the shape of a stream of gold which poured through the
roof. When Acrisius afterwards learned that she had got a
child Perseus, he would not believe that she had been
seduced by Zeus.
APOLLODORUS
The Library (c. ist Century A.D.)
LITERARY INDUSTRY
In prison Boethius composed his work on the Consolations
of Philosophy ; and Grotius wrote his Commentary on
Saint Matthew, with other works. . . .
Buchanan, in the dungeons of a monastery in Portugal,
composed his excellent Paraphrases of the Psalms of
David.
Cervantes composed the most agreeable book in the
Spanish language during his captivity in Barbary. . . .
Louis the Twelfth, when Duke of Orleans, was long
imprisoned in the Tower of Bourges : applying himself
to his studies, which he had hitherto neglected, he
became, in consequence, an enlightened monarch.
Margaret, queen of Henry the Fourth, King of France,
522
confined in the Louvre, pursued very warmly the studies
of elegant literature, and composed a very skilful apology
for the irregularities of her conduct. . . .
The plan of the Henriade was sketched, and the greater
part composed, by Voltaire during his imprisonment in
the Bastile ; and the Pilgrim's Progress of Bunyan was
performed in the circuit of a prison's walls.
Howell, the author of Familiar Letters, wrote the chief
part of them, and almost all his other works, during his
long confinement in the Fleet prison. . . .
Lydiat, while confined in the King's Bench for debt,
wrote his Annotations on the Parian Chronicle, which
were first published by Prideaux. . . .
The learned Selden, committed to prison for his
attacks on the divine right of tithes and the king's prerog-
ative, prepared during his confinement his History of
Eadmer> enriched by his notes.
Freret, when imprisoned in the Bastile, was permitted
only to have Bayle for his companion. His dictionary was
always before him, and his principles were got by heart.
To this circumstance we owe his works, animated by all
the powers of scepticism.
Sir Willian Davenant finished his poem of Gondibert
during his confinement by the rebels in Carisbrook
Castle. . . .
De Foe, confined in Newgate for a political pamphlet,
began his " Review," a periodical paper. . . .
Wicquefort's curious work " On Ambassadors " is
dated from his prison, where he had been confined for
state affairs. He softened the rigour of those heavy hours
by several historical works.
ISAAC DISRAELI
Curiosities of Literature (1791-1823)
523
BIRD OF THE MUSES
I now write to you from my Confinement in Newgate,
where I have been since Monday last was sennight, and
where I enjoy myself with much more Tranquillity than
I have known for upwards of a Twelvemonth past ;
having a Room intirely to myself, pursuing the Amuse-
ments of my Poetical Studies, uninterrupted, and agreeably
to my mind. I thank the Almighty, I am now all collected
in myself ; and though my Person is in Confinement, my
Mind can expatiate on ample and useful Subjects with all
the freedom imaginable. I am now more conversant with
the Nine than ever ; and if instead of a Newgate Bird, I
may be allow'd to be a Bird of the Muses, I assure you,
Sir, I sing very freely in my Cage ; somtimes indeed in the
Plaintive notes of the Nightinghale ; but at others in the
cheerfull strains of the Lark.
RICHARD SAVAGE
Letter to a Friend (1743)
NAIL-CARVING
The publisher of a Leyden Gazette, who had printed a
satire on Louis XIV, was secretly seized in Holland,
brought away from thence, and shut up in a cage at St.
Michael. . . . This cage was ... of strong bars of wood.
. . . On some of the bars were figures and landscapes,
which are said to have been cut by this unhappy man
with his nails.
SHOLTO AND REUBEN PERCY
Anecdotes (1826)
524
THE STUDIOUS GROTIUS
Grotius having taken part in the political disputes which
agitated his native country in the early part of the iyth
century, was condemned to imprisonment for life in the
Castle of Louvestein. The malice of his persecutors was,
however, fortunately disappointed by the ingenuity of
his wife. Having obtained permission to remove some
books from the prison, she sent a large chest for the
purpose ; but instead of books, she deposited a more
valuable treasure, the illustrious Grotius himself; and
... he was thus enabled to make his escape.
Nothing more strongly marks the genius and fortitude of
Grotius than the manner in which he employed his time
during his imprisonment. ... He resumed his law
studies, which other employments had interrupted. He
gave a portion of his time to moral philosophy, which
induced him to translate the ancient poets collected by
Stoboeus, and the fragments of Menander and Philemon.
Every Sunday was devoted to reading the Scriptures, and
to writing his Commentaries on the New Testament. . . .
He composed his treatise in Dutch verse on the Truth of
the Christian Religion. Sacred and profane authors oc-
cupied him alternately. „ . ,
LIBERTY AND LOVE
You can't imagine, my friend, the charm of a prison,
where one has only to account to one's own heart for the
employment of one's time. No tiresome distractions, no
525
troublesome sacrifices, no petty cares, none of those duties
. . . none of those conflicts of law and social prejudice
with the dearest inspirations of one's nature. No jealous
eye spies on the expression of what one feels, or on the
occupation one has chosen ; no-one suffers from one's
melancholy or from one's inactivity ; no-one expects
effort from one, or exacts sentiments which are not at
one's command. Given up to oneself, to truth, without
obstacles to conquer or battles to sustain, one can, with-
out wounding the rights or the affections of any one at
all, abandon one's soul to its own integrity, find again
one's moral independence on the breast of a seeming
captivity, and exercise it with a fullness from which social
encounters almost always detract. I was not even allowed
to seek that independence, and to relieve myself thus of
the charge of the happiness of another . . . events have
procured for me that which I could not have obtained
without a sort of crime. How I cherish the irons in which
I am free to love you with undivided mind, and to occupy
myself with you all the time ! Here, all other obligation is
superseded ; I owe myself only to him who loves me, and
deserves so well to be loved. Follow your career generous-
ly, serve your country, save liberty ; all your actions are
a joy to me, and your career is my triumph. ... I thank
heaven for having substituted my present chains for
those which I wore before. ... If I am to gain no more,
let me keep this situation until my complete deliverance
from a world given over to injustice and misfortune. . . .
I have better air here than at the Abbaye, and I can go,
when I choose, into the pleasant appartment of the Con-
cierge. ... I usually stay in my cell. It is large enough to
contain a chair beside the bed. At a little table I read,
draw and write, your portrait on my breast or under my
526
eyes. I thank heaven for having known you, for having
let me taste the inexpressible happiness of loving, and of
being loved with that generosity, that delicacy, which
vulgar souls will never know, and which are above all their
pleasures. . . .
Goodbye, man the most loved by the most loving
woman ! MADAME ROLAND
Letter to Francois Buzot
(Prison of Sainte-Pelagie, 1793)
TACITUS
In prison, as elsewhere, Madame Roland beguiled her
leisure with books and flowers. Tacitus was then her
favourite author, and her consciousness of her own talents
made her conceive the idea of writing the annals of France,
but this plan did not materialise. j REVENEL
Introduction to Memoir es de Mme Roland (1840)
A FORGER PETTED
Mr Ryland, the artist, who was executed in 1789 for
forgery, so conciliated the friendship of the governor of
Tothill Fields Bridewell, where he was confined, that he
not only had the liberty of the whole house and garden,
but when the other prisoners were locked up of an
evening the governor used to take him out with him, and
range the fields to a considerable distance.
SHOLTO AND REUBEN PERCY
Anecdotes (1826)
527
CONVERSATION BY WHISTLING
The Marquis de la Fayette and several French officers . . .
were long confined in the castle of Olmutz. . . . Their
apartments were so constructed that they were within
hearing of each other when standing at the windows of
their respective chambers. . . . There is at Paris a number
of tunes called the airs of the Pont de Neuf, or those
popular ballads that were sung at the corners of the streets.
To strike up a few of the notes was to recall to memory
the words that accompanied them. The captives of Olmutz
gradually composed for themselves a vocal vocabulary, by
whistling these notes at their windows ; and this vocabu-
lary, after a short time, became so complete, and even rich,
that two or three notes from each air formed their alphabet
and effected their intercourse. By this means they com-
municated news to each other concerning their families,
the progress of the war etc ; and when, by good fortune,
one of them had procured a gazette, he whistled the con-
tents of it to his partners in suffering.
KITES, CROWS, AND CONDUITS
He was a close prisoner in the Tower, tempore regis
Jacobi, for speaking too boldly in the Parliament House of
the king's profuse liberality to the Scots. He made a com-
parison of a conduit, whereinto water came, and ran-out
afarre-off. " Now," said he, " this pipe reaches as far as
Edinborough." He was kept a close prisoner there, i.e.,
his windowes were boarded up. Through a small chinke
he sawe once a crowe, and another time, a kite ; the sight
528
whereof, he sayd, was a great pleasure to him. He, with
much adoe, obtained at length the favour to have his little
son Bennet to be with him ; and he then made this distich,
viz : —
Parvule, dum puer es, nee scis incommoda linguae,
Vincula da linguae, vel tibi vincla dabit.
JOHN AUBREY
Brief Lives : John Hoskyns (c. 1680)
FREEDOM OF SOUL AND OF LOVE
When love with unconfined wings
Hovers within my gates ;
And my divine Althea brings
To whisper at the grates ;
When I lye tangled in her haire,
And fettered to her eye,
The birds, that wanton in the aire,
Know no such liberty.
When flowing cups run swiftly round
With no allaying Thames^
Our carelesse heads with roses bound,
Our hearts with loyal flames ;
When thirsty grief in wine we steepe,
When healths and draughts go free,
Fishes, that tipple in the deepe,
Know no such libertie.
When (like committed linnets) I
With shriller throat shall sing
The sweetnes, mercy, majesty,
And glories of my King.
529
When I shall voyce aloud, how good
He is, how great should be,
Inlarged winds, that curie the flood,
Know no such liberty.
Stone walls doe not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage ;
Mindes innocent and quiet take
That for an hermitage ;
If I have freedome in my love,
And in my soule am free,
Angels alone that sore above
Enjoy such liberty.
RICHARD LOVELACE
To Althea. From Prison (1642)
ROCKS, SEAS, AND GARDENS
Shut up Close-Prisner in Mount-Orgueil Pile.,
A lofty Castle, within Jersie Isle,
Remote from Friends, neere three years space,
where I
Had Rockes, Seas, Gardens, dayly in mine Eye,
Which I oft viewed with no small delight.
These pleasing Objects did at last invite
Me to contemplate in more solemnewise
What usefull Meditations might arise
From each of them, my soule to warme, feast,
cheere,
And unto God, Christ, Heaven, mount more neare.
In which pursuite, I found such inward Joyes,
Such Cordiall Comforts, as did over-poise
530
My heaviest Crosses, Losses, and supply
The want of all Foes did me then deny ;
Give me assurance of a sweete Returne
Both from my Exile, Prison, and mine Urne :
Revive my cold dead Muse, and it inspire
Though not with brightest, yet with Sacred fire.
WILLIAM PRYNNE
Mount-Orgueil, or Divine and Profitable Meditations,
Raised from the Contemplation of these three Leaves of
Natures Volume, Rockes, Seas, Gardens
A FRIEND'S VISIT
This Lord Middleton had a great Friendship with the
Laird Bocconi, and they had made an Agreement, that the
first of them that Died should appear to the other in
Extremity. The Lord Middleton was taken Prisoner at
Worcester Fight, and was Prisoner in the Towre of London,
under Three Locks. Lying in his Bed pensive, Bocconi
appear'd to him ; my Lord Middleton asked him if he
were dead or alive ? he said, Dead, and that he was a
Ghost ', and told him, that within Three Days he should
escape, and he did soe, in his Wife's Cloaths. When he
had done his Message, he gave a Frisk, and said,
Givenni, Givanni, 'tis very strange,
In the World to see so sudden a Change.
And then gathered up and vanished.
JOHN AUBREY
Apparitions (Miscellanies) (1696)
531
GOOD QUAKERS AND A KIND JAILOR
When we were come to Bridewell, we were not put up into
the great Room in which we had been before : but into a
low Room, in another fair Court, which had a Pump in the
Middle of it. And here, we were not shut up as before :
but had the Liberty of the Court, to walk in ; and of the
Pump, to wash or drink at. And, indeed, we might easily
have gone quite away, if we would ; there was a Passage
through the Court into the Street : but we were true and
steady prisoners, and looked upon this Liberty arising from
their Confidence in us, to be a kind of par oil upon us ; so
that both Conscience and Honour stood now engaged for
our true imprisonment. . . .
And this Priviledge we enjoyed, by the Indulgence of
our Keeper, whose Heart God disposed to Favour us : so
that both the Master and his Porter were very civil, and
kind to us, and had been so indeed all along. For when we
were shut up before, the Porter would readily let some of
us go home in an Evening, and stay at Home till next
Morning, which was a great Conveniency. . . .
Under this easie Restraint, we lay till the Court sate at
the Old-Baily again. THOMAS ELLWOOD
History of his Life (1714)
CONTEMPLATION AND STUDY
Art in prison ? Make right use of it. . . . Where may a man
contemplate better than in solitarinesse or study more
than in quietnesse ? . . . Severinus Boethius never writ so
elegantly as in prison, Paul so devoutly, for most of his
532
Epistles were dictated in his bands ; It brings many a
lewd riotous fellow home, many wandering rogues it
settles, that would otherwise have been like raving Tygers,
ruined themselves and others. ROBERT BURTON
The Anatomy of Melancholy (1621. Edition 1632)
A CONCERT
An officer was confined in the Bastile ; he begged the
governor to permit him the use of his lute. . . . After a few
days, this modern Orpheus . . . was greatly astonished to
see frisking out of their holes great numbers of mice, and
descending from their woven habitations crowds of
spiders, who formed a circle about him. ... He was petri-
fied with astonishment. Having ceased to play, the as-
sembly . . . immediately broke up. As he had a great dis-
like to spiders, it was two days before he ventured again
to touch his instrument. At length ... he recommenced
his concert, when the assembly was far more numerous
than at first. Having thus succeeded in attracting this
company, he ... begged the keeper to give him a cat,
which he ... let loose at the very instant when the little
hairy people were most entranced. ISAAC DISRAELI
Curiosities of Literature (1792-1817)
THE BASTILE
And as for the Bastile ! flie terror is in the word Make
the most of it you can, said I to myself, the Bastile is but
533
another word for a tower — and a tower is but another word
for a house you can't get out of . . . but with nine
lives a day, and pen and ink and paper and patience,
albeit a man can't get out, he may do very well within
— at least for a month or six weeks.
LAURENCE STERNE, A Sentimental Journey (1768)
BETTER THAN A SHIP
He said, " No man will be a sailor who has contrivance
enough to get himself into a jail. ... A man in a jail has
more room, better food, and commonly better company."
JAMES BOSWELL, Life of Johns on (1791)
RAIN
THE BENEFIT OF IRRIGATION
In April, and the springtime, his lorship [Bacon] would,
when it rayned, take his coach (open) to receive the benefit
of irrigation, which he was wont to say was very wholsome
because of the nitre in the aire and the universall spirit of
the world.
JOHN AUBREY, Brief Lives : Francis Bacon (c. 1680)
534
RAMBLING
A DELECTABLE RECREATION
But the most pleasant of all outward pastimes is ... to
make a pretty progresse, a merry journy now and then
with some good companions, to visit friends, see citties,
Castles, Townes, . . .
To see the pleasant fields, the christall fountaines,
And take the gentle air among the mountaines :
To walke amongst Orchards, Gardens, Bowres, Mounts,
and Arbors, artificiall wildrenesses, greene thickets, Arches,
Groves, Lawnes, Rivulets, Fountaines, and such like
pleasant places . . . Brooks, Pooles, Fishponds, betwixt
wood and water, in a faire meadow, by a river-side ... to
disport in some pleasant plaine parke, run up a steepe
hill sometimes, or sit in a shady seat, must needs be a
delectable recreation. . . . S. Bernard, in the description
of his Monastery, is almost ravished with the pleasure of
it. A sicke man (saith he) sits upon a greene banke, and when
the dog-starre parcheth the Plaines, and dries up rivers, he
lies in a shadie bowre, . . . and feeds his eyes with variety of
objects, hearbs, trees ; to comfort his misery, hee receaves
many delightsome smells, and fills his ears with that sweet
and various harmony of Birds : Good God (saith he) what
a company of pleasures hast thou made for man !
ROBERT BURTON
The Anatomy of Melancholy (1621. Edition 1632)
535
READING
MODERATION
Bookes are delightful! ; but if by continuall frequenting
them, we in the end lose both health and cheerfulnesse
(our best parts) let us leave them. I am one of those who
thinke their fruit can no way counter vaile this losse.
MICHEL DE MONTAIGNE, Essays (1580)
Trans. John Florio (1603)
READING BY BIRD-LIGHT
There is a kind of Bird in America, that yields such a
light, you may read by it in the darkest night.
B. DE FONTENELLE, A Plurality of Worlds
Trans. John Glanvill (1688)
READING THE BIBLE
A Spanish author says, that if a person should come to
his bishop to ask for leave to read the Bible . . . the bishop
should answer him from Matthew, ch. xx. v. 20, " You
536
know not what you ask." And indeed, he observes the
nature of this demand indicates an heretical disposition.
The reading of the Bible was prohibited by Henry VIII,
except by those who occupied high offices in the state ;
a noble lady or gentlewoman might read it in " their
garden or orchard " or other retired places ; but men
and women in the lower ranks were positively forbidden
to read it, or to have it read to them, under the penalty
of a month's imprisonment. ISAAC DISRAELI
Curiosities of Literature (1791-1823)
READING PLATO AND POETRY
.... the smooth Elegiack Poets . . . whom both for the
pleasing sound of their numerous writing, which in imita-
tion I found most easie, and most agreeable to natures part
in me and for their matter ... I was so allur'd to read,
that no recreation came to me better welcome. ... If I
found those authors anywhere speaking unworthy things
of themselves, or unchaste of those names which before
they had extolled, this effect it wrought with me, from
that time forward their art I still applauded, but the men
I deplor'd ; . . . Next (for heare me out now Readers)
that I may tell ye whether my younger feet wander'd ; I
betook me among those lofty Fables and Romances, which
recount in solemn canto's the deeds of Knighthood. . . .
So that even those books which to many others have bin
the fuell of wantonnesse and loose living, I cannot thinke
how unlesse by divine indulgence, prov'd to me so many
incitements as you have heard, to the love and stedfast
observation of that vertue which abhorres the society of
537
bordello's. Thus from the Laureat fraternity of Poets, riper
yeares and the ceaselesse round of study and reading led
me to the shady spaces of philosophy, but chiefly to the
divine volumes of Plato, and his equall Xenephon. Where if
I should tell ye what I learnt of chastity and love, I meane
that which is truly so, whose charming cup is only vertue,
which she bears in her hand to those who are worthy. . . .
JOHN MILTON
An Apology against a Pamphlet calFd A Modest Con-
futation of the Animadversions upon the Remonstrant
against Smectymnuus (1642)
READING ROMANCES
Parthenissa is now my company, my Brother sent it
downe, and I have almost read it. Tis handsome language.
You would know it to be writt by a person of good quality
though you were not tolde it, but on the whole I am not
very much taken with it, the Story's have too neer a
resemblance with those of other Romances, there's
nothing of new or surprenant in them, the Ladys are all
soe kinde they make no sport, and I meet only with one
that tooke mee by doing a handsome thing. . . . She was
in a beseiged Towre, and perswaded all those of her sexe
to go out with her to the Enemy (which were a barbarous
People) and dye by theire swordes, that the provisions of
the Towne might last the longer for such as were able to
doe service in defending it. But how angry was I to see
him spoile this againe, by bringing out a letter this woman
left behinde her for the Governour of the Towne, where
she discovers a passion for him and makes that the reason
why she did it. I confesse I have no patience with our
538
faiseurs de Roman, when they make women court. It will
never enter my head that tis possible any woman can Love
where she is not first Loved, and much lesse that if they
should doe that, they could have the face to owne it. ...
Another fault I finde too is the stile, tis affected. . . . But
perhaps I like it the worse for having a peece of Cyrus
by mee, that I am hugely pleased with, and that I would
faine have you read, i'le send it you. . . .
DOROTHY OSBORNE
Letter to Sir William Temple (1654)
READING NOVELS
JULIA has buried her Husband, and married her Daugh-
ters, since that she spends her time in reading. She is
always reading foolish and unedifying Books : She tells you
every time she sees you, that she is almost at the End of
the silliest Book, that ever she read in her life ; that the
best of it is, it is very long, and serves to dispose of a good
deal of her time. She tells you that all Romances are sad
Stuff, yet is very impatient till she can get all that she
can hear of. Histories of Intreague and Scandal are the
Books that Julia thinks are always too short. If Julia was
to drink Drams in private, and had no Enjoyment of her
self without them, she would not tell you this, because
she knows it would be plainly telling you that she was
a poor disordered Sot. Sec here therefore the Weakness of
Julia ; she would not be thought to be a Reprobate, yet
she lets you know that she lives upon Folly, and Scandal,
and Impertinence, in her Closet, that she cannot be in
private without them, that they are the only Support of
539
her dull Hours, and yet she does not perceive, that this
is as plainly telling you, that she is in a miserable, dis-
ordered, reprobate State of Mind.
WILLIAM LAW, Christian Perfection (1726)
READING RICHARDSON
Oh Richardson ! remarkable genius ! thou shalt always
form my reading. If compelled by bitter necessity . . .
if my means are insufficient to educate my children, I
will sell my books, but thou shalt remain ! yes, thou shalt
rest in the same class with Moses, Homer, Euripides, and
Sophocles, to be read turn by turn. DENIS DIDEROT
READING FIELDING
I never saw Johnson really angry with me but once. I
alluded to some witty passages in Tom Jones, he replied,
" I am shocked to hear you quote from so vicious a book.
I am sorry to hear you have read it ; a confession which
no modest lady should ever make. I scarcely know a
more corrupt work ! " He went so far as to refuse to
Fielding the great talents which are ascribed to him, and
broke out into a noble panegyric on his competitor,
Richardson ; who, he said, was as superior to him in
talents as in virtue ; and whom he pronounced to be the
greatest genius that had shed its lustre on this path of
literature."
HANNAH MORE, Memoirs (1780)
540
READING FIELDING AND RICHARDSON
Fielding being mentioned, Johnson exclaimed, " he was
a blockhead " ; and upon my expressing my astonishment
at so strange an assertion, he said, " What I mean by his
being a blockhead is that he was a barren rascal." BOS-
WELL. " Will you not allow, Sir, that he draws a very
natural picture of human life ? " JOHNSON. " Why,
Sir, it is of very low life. Richardson used to say, that had
he not known who Fielding was, he should have believed
him to be an ostler. Sir, there is more knowledge of the
heart in one letter of Richardson's, than in all Tom Jones.
. . . ERSKINE. " Surely, Sir, Richardson is very tedious."
JOHNSON. " Why, Sir, if you were to read Richardson
for the story, your patience would be so much fretted
that you would hang yourself. But you must read him for
the sentiment, and consider the story as only giving occa-
sion to the sentiment."
JAMES BOSWELL, Life of Johns on (1792)
READING A BAWDY BOOK
Jan. 13^, 1668. Stopped at Martin's, my bookseller,
where I saw the French book which I did think to have
had for my wife to translate, called " L'escholle des filles,"
but when I come to look in it, it is the most bawdy lewd
book that ever I saw, ... so that I was ashamed of reading
it, and so away home.
Feb. 8/A. To my bookseller's, and there staid an hour, and
bought the idle rogueish book, " L'escholle des filles " ;
541
which I have bought in plain binding, avoiding the buying
of it better bound, because I resolve, as soon as I have read
it, to burn it, that it may not stand in the list of books,
nor among them, to disgrace them if it should be found.
Feb. gth (Lord's Day). I to my chamber, where I did read
through " L'escholle des filles," a lewd book, but what
do no wrong once to read for information sake. . . . And
after I had done it I burned it, that it might not be among
my books to my shame, and so at night to supper and to
SAMUEL PEPYS, Diary
READING PETRARCH
I have spent a stupid day in reading the Abbe de Sade's
Memoirs of Petrarch. What a feeble whipster was this
Petrarch, with all his talents ! To go dangling about, for
the space of twenty years, puffing and sighing after a little
coquette, whose charms lay chiefly in the fervour of his
own imagination, and the art she had to keep him wavering
between hope and despondency — at once ridiculous and
deplorable — that he might write Sonnets in her praise !
Did you ever read his Rime ? I find it quite impossible to
admire them sufficiently : to me they seem a very worth-
less employment for a mind like Petrarch's — he might
have built a palace, and he has made some dozen snuff-
boxes with invisible hinges — very pretty certainly — but
very small and altogether useless. But the Italians call him
divine, and that is everything.
THOMAS CARLYLE
Letter to Jane Welsh (1822)
542
READING AND WEEPING
I think I heard you say you did not think very highly of
Corinne. You must read it again : nobody with a heart and
soul can fail to admire it. I never read a book in my life
that made such an impression on me. I cried two whole
hours at the conclusion, and in all likelihood I might have
been crying to this minute, but for an engagement to a
party in the evening, where prudential considerations
required that my eyes should be visible. — Have you read
Nigel ? I think wondrous little of it. I am exceedingly
obliged to you for Sismondi. I have only read the first
volume, but like it very much. . . .
Are you not pleased with Bracebridge Hall? He is a
witty, amiable sort of person Mr Irving ; but Oh, he
wants fire ; and he is far too happy for me. Dear Byron,
sinner as he is, there is nobody like him. I have got his
likeness. ... I can scarcely help crying when I look at it,
and think I may chance to go out of the world without
seeing its original.
JANE WELSH
Letters to Thomas Carlyle (1822)
ILL-JUDGED READING
Metrodorus, Valerius Probus, Aulus Gellius, Pedianus,
Boethius, and a hundred others, to be acquainted with
whom might show much reading and but little judgment.
OLIVER GOLDSMITH
Inquiry into the Present State of Polite Learning (1759)
543
FOOLISH READING
March i$th, 1668. And so home to read a little more in
last night's book, with much sport, it being a foolish book.
SAMUEL PEPYS
Diary
MEWED IN A LIBRARY
Heinsius, the keeper of the Library at Ley den in Holland,
was mewed up in it all the yeare long, and that which to thy
thinking should have bred a loathing caused in him a
greater liking. / no sooner (saith he) come into the Library,
but I bolt the doore to me excluding lust, ambition, avarace,
and all such vices, whose nurse is idlenesse, the Mother of
ignorance, and Melancholy her selfe, and in the very lap of
eternity, amongst so many divine soules, I take my seat, with
so lofty a spirit and sweet content, that I pitty all our great
ones, and rich men that know not this happinesse.
ROBERT BURTON
The Anatomy of Melancholy
(1621. Edition 1632)
FRIENDS' MANUSCRIPTS
Mr Johnson did not like that his friends should bring their
manuscripts for him to read, and he liked still less to read
them when they were brought. . . . " Alas, Madam ! "
(continued he) how few books are there of which one ever
can possibly arrive at the last page ! Was there ever yet
544
any thing written by mere man that was wished longer by
its readers, excepting Don Quixote, Robinson Crusoe, and
the Pilgrim's Progress. . . .
HESTHER PIOZZI
Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson (1785)
READING BURNET
Learning is sunk so very low, that I am most certainly
inform'd that nothing is now hardly read but Burnett's
romance or libel, call'd by him The History of his own
Times., 'Tis read by men, women, and children. Indeed, it
is the common table-book for ladies as well as gentlemen,
especially such as are friends to the revolution scheme.
THOMAS HEARNE
Diary (March 19, 1734)
READING ONE'S OWN BOOKS
I have lately perused all my own Philosophicall Writings
which the more seriously I have consydered by so much
the more assured I am of the truth of those maine con-
clusions they hold out to the world. And those that will
be ignorant, if they find so great felicity in it, lett them
be so.
HENRY MORE
Letter to Lady Conway (1661)
SP 545
REPARTEE
EMINENTLY SUCCESSFUL
Johnson was once eminently successful in this form of
contest : A fellow having attacked him with some coarse
raillery, Johnson answered him thus, " Sir, your wife,
under pretence of keeping a bawdy-house, is a receiver
of stolen goods."
JAMES BOSWELL, Life of Johnson (1791)
RESPECT FROM LOWER
ORDERS
Dr Johnson sat with Mrs Thrale, Lady Ladd, and me, for
an hour or two. The subject was given by Lady Ladd ;
it was the respect due from the lower class of the people.
" I know my place," said she, " and I always take it :
and I've no notion of not taking it. But Mrs Thrale lets all
sort of people do just as they've a mind by her."
" Ay," said Mrs Thrale, " why should I torment and
546
worry myself about all the paltry marks of respect that con-
sist in bows and courtesies ? — I have no idea of troubling
myself about the manners of all the people I mix with."
" No/' said Lady Ladd, " so they will take all sorts of
liberties with you. I remember, when you were at my
house, how the hair-dresser flung down the comb as soon
as you were dressed, and went out of the room without
making a bow."
" Well, all the better," said Mrs Thrale ; " for if he
had made me one, then thousand to one if I had seen it.
I was in as great haste to have done with him, as he could
be to have done with me. I was glad enough to get him
out of the room ; I did not want him to stand bowing and
cringing."
" If any man had behaved so insolently to me,"
answered she, " I would never again have suffered him
in my house."
" Well," said Mrs Thrale, " your Ladyship has a great
deal more dignity than I have ! Dr Johnson, we are talking
of the respect due from inferiors ; — and Lady Ladd is of
the same side you are."
" Why, madam," said he, " subordination is always
necessary to the preservation of order and decorum."
" I protest," said Lady Ladd, " I have no notion of
submitting to any kind of impertinence : and I never will
bear either to have any nod to me, or enter a room where
I am without bowing."
" But, madam," said Dr Johnson, " what if they will
nod, and what if they will not bow ? — how then ? "
" Why, I always tell them of it," said she.
" Oh, commend me to that ! " cried Mrs Thrale ; " I'd
sooner never see another bow in my life, than turn
dancing-master to hair-dressers."
547
The doctor laughed his approbation, but said that every
man had a right to a certain degree of respect, and no man
liked to be defrauded of that right.
" Well, sir," said Mrs Thrale, " I hope you meet with
respect enough."
" Yes, madam," answered he, " I am very well con-
contented."
" Nay, if you ain't, I don't know who should be ; for I
believe there is no man in the world so greatly respected."
FANNY BURNEY
Diary (1778)
RURAL
OXFORDSHIRE SQUIRE
You have now, at length, left scouring the Watch and
teizing the Exchange-women, bid adieu to Bourdeaux, and
taken up with Barrel-ale. You are all the morning gallop-
ping after a Fox ; all the Evening in a smoaky Chimny-
corner, recounting whose Horse leap'd best, was oftenest
in with the Dogs, and how readily Lightfoot hit the cooling
Scent, and reviv'd your drooping Spirits with a prospect
of more Diversion ; which some Men, who think them-
selves as wise in the Enjoyment of this World, as all the
men in Oxfordshire, are pleas'd to term meer fatigue. And
I believe your own Footman would not ride so far and so
hard, to fetch a good Dinner, as both of you do to see the
548
Death of a stinking Beast. . . . Does not a Masque give a
more Christian-like chase, and conclude in more satisfac-
tion than the Animal you wot of ? I saw your Letters to
some of our Club., and laugh'd not a little at the strangeness
of your Style ; it smelt of filthy Tobacco., and was stain'd
with your dropping Tankard. You acquainted 'em at
large with the Situation of your Mansion-House ; how a
knot of branching Elms defended it from the North-wind ;
that the South-Sun gave you good Grapes, and most sort of
Wall-fruits ; your Melons came on apace, and you had hopes
of much good Fruit this Summer. After all, in Covent-
garden Market, we can buy, in one quarter of an hour,
better Plants than yours, and richer Melons, for Groats
apiece, than you have been poring over this three Months.
You thank'd 'em for some News, that was so old we hardly
could imagine what you meant, till Tom, who has all the
Gazets and Pamphlets lock'd up in his Heart, as David did
the Commandments, disclosed the Mystery to us. I pity
your new State indeed : Your Gazets are as stale as your
Drink ; which, tho' brew'd in March, is not broach'd till
December. The chief Topicks of Discourse (for Conversa-
tion you have none) are Hawks, Horses, and Hounds ; every
one of 'em as much God's Image as he that keeps them. . . .
This you call a seasonable retreat from the Lewdness of
London, to enjoy a Calm and Quiet Life : Heaven knows,
you drink more there, and more ignoble and ungenerous
Liquors than we in Town ; for yours is down-right Drink-
ing. . . . Well, 'tis Six, and I must to the Club, where we
will pity your Solitude, and drink your Prosperity, in a
Cup that is worth a Stable of Horses and a Kennel of
Hounds. So adieu.
CAPTAIN AYLOFFE
Letter to a Friend in the Country (1696)
549
NOT WEARING SHOES
Are you so determined to spend your time now in
Lucania, now in Campania ? . . . Why not sometimes
return to Rome, where there are dignities, honours, and
friendships both greater and less. For how long do you
intend to play the lord, wake and sleep when you like,
never wear shoes or full dress, and be free all day ?
PLINY THE YOUNGER, Letter to Praesens (c. 100)
UNDER THE BEECH TREE
Look, under that broad Beech tree I sate down when I was
last this way a fishing, and the birds in the adjoining grove
seemed to have a friendly contention with an Eccho,
whose dead voice seemed to live in a hollow cave, neer
to the brow of that Primrose hill, there I sat viewing
the silver streams glide silently towards their center, the
tempestuous sea ; yet somtimes opposed by rugged roots,
and pibble stones, which broke their waves, and turned
them into foam : and somtimes viewing the harmlesse
lambs, some leaping securely in the cool shade, whilst
others sported them selves in the cheerful sun ; and others
were craving comfort from the swolne udders of their
bleating Dams. As I thus sate, these and other sights had
so fully possest my soul, that I thought, as the Poet has
happily exprest it,
I was for that time lifted above earth,
And possest joies not promis'd in my birth.
IZAAK WALTON, The Compleat Angler (1653)
550
SUFFICIENT RECREATION
The very being in the country, that life it selfe is a suffi-
cient recreation to some men, to enjoy such pleasures as
those old Patriarkes did. Diocletian, the Emperor, was so
much affected by it, that he gave over his scepter, and
turned Gardner.
ROBERT BURTON
The Anatomy of Melancholy (1621. Edition 1632)
COUNTRY PLEASURES
DORINDA : You share in all the Pleasures that the Country
affords.
MRS SULLEN: Country Pleasures! Racks and Torments!
dost think, Child, that my Limbs were made for leaping of
Ditches, and clambring over Stiles ; or that my Parents
wisely foreseeing my future Happiness in Country-
Pleasures, had early instructed me in rural Accomplish-
ments of drinking fat Ale, playing at Whisk, and smoaking
Tobacco with my Husband ; or of spreading of Plaisters,
brewing of Diet-drinks, and stilling Rosemary- Water,
with the good old Gentlewoman my Mother-in-Law ?
DOR. : I'm sorry, Madam, that it is not more in our power
to divert you ; I cou'd wish, indeed, that our Entertain-
ments were a little more polite, or your Taste a little less
refin'd : But pray, Madam, how came the Poets and
Philosophers, that labour'd so much in hunting after
Pleasure, to place it at last in a Country Life ?
MRS SUL. : Because they wanted Money, Child, to find
551
out the Pleasures of the Town : Did you ever see a Poet
or Philosopher worth ten Thousand Pound ? if you
can shew me such a Man, I'll lay you Fifty Pound you'll
find him somewhere within the weekly Bills. — Not that I
disapprove rural Pleasures, as the Poets have painted
them ; in their Landschape every Phillis has her Coridon,
every murmuring Stream, and every flowry Mead gives
fresh Alarms to Love. — Besides, you'll find that their
Couples were never marry 'd.
GEORGE FARQUHAR
The Beaux' Stratagem (1707)
HAPPY PEOPLE
Phoebe drest like beauty's queen,
Jellicoe in faint pea-green,
Sitting all beneath a grot
Where the little lambkins trot.
Maidens dancing, loves a-sporting, ^
All the country folks a-courting,
Susan, Johnny, Bob and Joe,
Lightly tripping in a row.
Happy people, who can be
In happiness compar'd with ye ?
The pilgrim with his crook and hat
Sees your happiness complete.
WILLIAM BLAKE
An Island in the Moon (1784)
552
SQUIRELAND
Mr Chute tells me you have taken a new house in Squire-
land, and have given yourself up for two years more to
port and parsons. I am very angry, and resign you to the
works of the devil or the Church, I don't care which.
You will get the gout, turn Methodist, and expect to
ride to Heaven upon your own great toe. . . . Will you
end like a fat farmer, repeating annually the price of oats
and discussing stale newspapers ?
HORACE WALPOLE
Letter to George Montagu (1768)
GENTLEMEN SALVAGES
ISABELLE : Sir Timerous, I wish you well ; but he I marry
must promise me to live at London : I cannot abide to be
in the Country, like a wilde beast in the wilderness, with
no Christian Soul about me.
SIR TIMEROUS : Why Fli bear you company.
ISABELLE : I cannot endure your early hunting matches
there ; to have my sleep disturbed at break of day, with
heigh Fowler Fowler, there Venus, ah Beauty \ and then a
serenade of deep mouth Jd curres, to answer the salutation
of the Huntsman, as if hell were broke loose about me : and
all this to meet a pack of Gentleman Salvages to ride all
day like mad men, for the immortal fame of being first in
at the Hares death : to come upon the spur after a trayl at
four in the afternoon to destruction of cold meat and cheese,
553
with your leud company in boots ; fall a drinking till
Supper time, be carried to bed, rop'd out of your Seller,
and be good for nothing all the night after. jOHN DRYDEN
The Wilde Gallant (1669)
FIT FOR THE COUNTRY
" Yet, Sir, (said I) there are many people who are content
to live in the country." JOHNSON. " Sir ... they who are
content to live in the country, are jfa for the country."
JAMES BOSWELL
Life of Johnson (1791)
LAUGHTER
When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy,
And the dimpling stream runs laughing by ;
When the air does laugh with our merry wit,
And the green hill laughs with the noise of it ;
When the meadows laugh with lively green,
And the grasshopper laughs in the merry scene,
When Mary and Susan and Emily
With their sweet round mouths sing " Ha, Ha, He ! "
When the painted birds laugh in the shade,
Where our table with cherries and nuts is spread,
Come live, and be merry, and join with me,
To sing the sweet chorus of " Ha, Ha, He ! "
WILLIAM BLAKE
Laughing Song (1784)
554
NORMANDY GENTLEMAN
I am much better off in my own part of the country,
where I am very distinguished, than lost in Paris and
submerged at Versailles.
COMTE DE BUSSY RABUTIN
Letter to Corbinelli (1686)
MILKMAIDS
To Portholme, seeing the country-maids milking their
cows there, they being there now at grass, and to see with
what mirth they come all home together in pomp with
their milk, and sometimes they have musique to go before
them.
SAMUEL PEPYS
Diary (Oct. 13, 1662)
GOING RUSTIC
I now hold the pen for my Lord Bolingbroke, who is
reading your Letter between two Haycocks ; but his atten-
tion is somewhat diverted by casting his Eyes on the
Clouds, not in admiration of what you say, but for fear of
a Shower. ... As to the Return of his Health and Vigour,
were you here, you might inquire of his Hay-makers ;
but as to his Temperance, I can answer that (for one
whole day) we have had nothing for Dinner but Mutton-
broth, Beans and Bacon, and a Barn-door Fowl.
555
Now his Lordship is run after his Cart, I have a moment
left to myself to tell you, that I overheard him yesterday
agree with a Painter for 200 1. to paint his Country-Hall
with Trophies of Rakes, Spades, Prongs, etc., and other
Ornaments, merely to countenance his calling this Place
a Farm. ALEXANDER POPE
Letter to Dean Swift (1728)
A SHORT WALK
LADY : Will you see a fayre Meadowe ? Is it not a great
comfort to the eye to see so great varyetie of flowers ?
and then cast your eye upon that little hill, looke how
the little lambs doe skip on the grasse ! . . . The Sonne
did not shine heare this day, for the grasse is yet with
dewe. . . . What sweet noyse this water maketh among the
pible stones, it doth enchaunte me almost to sleep . . .
maydens, gather some water cresses, it biteth upon the
tongue like pepper. . . .
CHARLOTTE : Heare how the small birds doe chatter their
sweete tunes, would to God I had one of them ! I would
set him in the fayrest Cage that I could get.
MASTER OUYT-AIGU : What Mistris, would you be so
cruell as to deprive him of his libertie ? O deere libertie !
God grant me alwaies the key of the fieldes, I would like
it better, then to be in bondage in the fayrest wainscotted
or tapistried Chamber.
Du VAULT-L'AMOUR : I knowe a gentle-woman, which
above all birds loveth a Swallowe, and hath no content-
ment but when she enjoyeth either the sight or the voyce
of it.
556
MISTRIS Du PONT GAILLARD : Yet so it is, that it is an
unconstant and wandering bird, and that hath no pleasant
voyce.
OUYT-AIGU : But the comming of it is pleasing, for it doth
denounce the spring-time, is a very good Architector,
and hath great care of her little ones.
LADY : Now seeing that she whome you say loveth her so
well, I pray God she may have his company to her con-
tent : but in the mean while let us retyre us for it is verye
hotte : let us goe to the Orchard, and then we will rest
in the garden. . . .
PIERRE ERONDELL
The French Garden (1605)
THE MERRY COUNTRY LAD
Who can live in heart so glad,
As the merrie countrie lad ?
Who upon a faire greene balke
May at pleasures sit and walke ?
And amidde the Azure skies,
See the morning Sunne arise ?
While he heares in every spring,
How the Birdes doe chirpe and sing
Or, before the houndes in crie,
See the Hare go stealing by :
Or along the shallow brooke,
Angling with a baited hooke :
See the fishes leape and play,
In a blessed Sunny day :
557
Or to heare the Partridge call,
Till shee have her Covye all : ...
Then the Bee to gather honey.
And the little blacke-haird Cony,
On a banke for Sunny place,
With her fore-feete wash her face :
Are not these with thousandes moe,
Than the Courts of Kinges doe knowe ?
NICHOLAS BRETON
The Passionate Shepheard (1604)
SAGA GROWTH
SPREADING STORIES
He had a trick sometimes to goe into Westminster hall
in a morning in Terme time, and tell some strange story
(sham) and would come hither again about n or 12 to
have the pleasure to heare how it spred ; and sometimes
it would be altered, with additions, he could scarce
knowe it to be his owne.
JOHN AUBREY
Brief Lives : Thomas Chaloner (c. 1680)
558
SATISFACTORY
ENGAGEMENTS
THE SHEPHERD AND His LOVE
At Shearing time she shall commaund,
The finest fleece of all my wooll :
And if her pleasure but demaund.
The fattest from the leane to cull.
She shall be mistresse of my store :
Let mee alone to worke for more.
My cloake shall lie upon the ground,
From wet and dust to keepe her feete :
My pipe with his best measures found,
Shall welcome her with musicke sweete.
And in my skrippe, some cates at least :
Shall bid her to a Sheapheards feast.
My staffe shall stay her, in her walke,
My dog shall at her heeles attend her :
And I will holde her with such talke,
As I doe hope shall not offend her,
My Eawes shall bleate, my Lambes shall play,
To shew her all the sport they may.
Why I will tell her twentie thinges,
That I have heard my mother tell :
559
Of plucking of the Buzzards winges,
For killing of her Cockerell,
And hunting Rainard to his denne,
For frighting of her sitting Hen.
How she would say, when shee was young.
That Lovers were ashamde to lie :
And truth was so on everie tongue.
That Love ment naught but honestie.
And Sirra (quoth shee) then to me
Let ever this thy lesson be.
Looke when thou lovest, love but one,
And let her worthy be thy love :
Then love her in thy heart alone,
And let her in thy passions proove,
Aglaia all that in thy minde,
Within thy heart her love shall finde.
And as shee bad, I have obeyed,
I love in heart but one alone :
Whose worthines my wits dismaid,
In finding such a worthy one.
As in Aglaia all doth proove,
All under heaven my only love.
And in that love to live and die,
And die, but in that love to live :
And love that cannot live to lie,
Shall for my truth this warrant give :
My life or death, to save or lose,
Shall in her love be to dispose.
Her eyes shall be my Sunne to guide me,
Her hand shall holde me by the hearte,
Her censure onely shall decide me :
560
What I protest in everie parte.
In heart to serve and love her so.
As under heaven to love no moe. . . .
And I will tell her such fine tales,
As for the nonce, I will devise :
Of Lapwinges and of Nightingales :
And how the Swallow feedes on flies.
And of the Hare, the Fox, the Hound,
The Pastor and the Medow ground.
And of the springes, and of the wood,
And of the Forrestes and the Deere,
And of the rivers and the floods,
And of the mirth and merrie cheere,
And of the lookes and of the glaunces,
Of Maides and young men in their daunces :
Of clapping handes, and drawing gloves,
And of the tokens of loves truth,
And of the pretty Turtle Doves,
That teach die billinge trickes of youth.
And how they kindely ought to wooe,
Before the tother thing they doe.
NICHOLAS BRETON, The Passionate Shepheard (1604)
THE HAPPY NIGHT
On a time the amorous Silvy
Said to her Shepheard, Sweet, how do you ?
Kisse mee this once, and then God b' wee you,
My sweetest deare.
Kisse me this once, and then God b* wee you,
For now the morning draweth neare.
With that, her fairest bosome shewing,
Opening her lips, rich perfumes blowing,
She said, Now kisse me and be going,
My sweetest deare.
Kisse me this once and then be going,
For now the morning draweth neare.
With that the Shepheard wak'd from sleeping,
And spying where the day was peeping,
He said Now take my Soule in keeping,
My sweetest deare.
Kisse me and take my Soule in keeping,
Since I must go now, day is neare.
ANON (1622)
SIMON AND SUSAN
SIMON : O Mine owne sweet heart,
and when wilt thou be true :
Or when will the time come,
that I shall marry you,
That I may give you kisses,
one, two or three,
More sweeter then the hunny,
' that comes from the Bee.
SUSAN : My Father is unwilling
that I should marry thee,
Yet I could wish in heart,
that so the same might be :
For now me thinks thou seemest,
more lovely unto me :
And fresher then the Blossomes,
that bloomes on the tree.
562
SIMON : Thy mother is most willing,
and will consent I know.
Then let us to thy Father
now both together goe :
Where if he give us his good will,
and to our match agree :
Twill be sweeter then the hunny
that comes from the Bee.
SUSAN : Come goe, for I am willing,
good fortune be our guide :
From that which I have promised,
deare heart, He never slide :
If that he doe but smile,
and I the same may see,
Tis better then the blossomes,
that bloomes upon the tree.
SIMON : But stay heere comes my Mother,
weele talke with her a word :
I doubt not but some comfort,
to us she may afford :
If comfort she will give us,
that we the same may see,
Twill be sweeter then the hunny,
that comes from the Bee.
SUSAN : O Mother we are going
my Father for to pray,
That he will give me his good will,
for long I cannot stay.
A young man I have chosen
a fitting match for me,
563
More fayrer then the blossomes
that bloomes on the tree.
MOTHER : Daughter thou art old enough
to be a wedded wife.
You maydens are desirous
to lead a marryed life.
Then my consent good daughter
shall to thy wishes be,
For young thou art as blossomes
that bloome upon the tree.
SIMON : Then mother you are willing
your daughter I shall have :
And Susan thou art welcome
He keepe thee fine and brave.
And have those wished blessings
bestowed upon thee,
More sweeter then the honey
that comes from the Bee.
SUSAN : Yet Simon I am minded
to lead a merry life,
And be as well maintained
as any Citie wife :
And live a gallant mistresse
of maidens that shall be
More fayrer then the blossomes
that bloome upon the tree.
SIMON : Thou shalt have thy Caudles,
before thou dost arise :
For churlishnesse breeds sicknesse
and danger therein lies.
564
Young lasses must be cherisht
with sweets that dainty be,
Farre sweeter then the honey
that commeth from the Bee.
MOTHER : Well said good Son and Daughter,
this is the onely dyet
To please a dainty young wife,
and keepe the house in quiet.
But stay, here comes your father,
his words I hope will be
More sweeter then the blossomes
that bloome upon the tree.
FATHER : Why how now daughter Susan
doe you intend to marry ?
Maydens in the old time
did twenty winters tarry.
Now in the teenes no sooner
but you a wife will be
And loose the sweetest blossome
that bloomes upon thy tree.
SUSAN : It is for my preferment
good father say not nay.
For I have found a husband kinde
and loving every way :
That still unto my fancy
will evermore agree,
Which is more sweet then honey
that comes from the Bee.
MOTHER : Hinder not your daughter,
good husband, lest you bring
565
Her loves consuming sicknesse,
or else a worser thing.
Maydens youngly married
loving wives will be
And sweet as is the honey
which comes from the Bee.
SIMON : Good father be not cruell,
your daughter is mine owne :
Her mother hath consented
and is to liking growne.
And if your selfe will give then,
her gentle hand to me,
Twill sweeter be then honey
that comes from the Bee.
FATHER : God give thee joy deare Daughter,
there is no reason I
Should hinder thy proceeding,
and thou a mayden die :
And after to lead Apes in hell,
as maidens doomed be :
That fairer are then blossomes
that bloome upon the tree.
SIMON : Then let's unto the Parson
and Clerke to say Amen :
SUSAN : With all my heart good Simon,
we are concluded then,
My father and my mother both
doe willingly agree
My Simon's sweet as honey
that comes from the Bee.
566
ALL TOGETHER SING I
You Maidens and Bachelors
we hope will lose no time,
Which learne it by experience
that youth is in the prime,
And dally in their hearts desire
young married folkes to be
More sweeter then the blossomes
that bloome upon the tree.
Ibid. (c. 1620)
How IT SHOULD BE DONE
MADELON : Father, here is my cousin, who will tell you
too that marriage ought never to occur except after other
experiences. A lover, to be agreeable, must know how to
utter fine sentiments, to express what is sweet, tender and
passionate, and his courtship must be in due form. First,
he must see at church, or on a walk, or at some public
function, the person with whom he falls in love ; or be
taken to her house by a relation or friend, and come away
dreamy and melancholy. For a time he hides his passion
from the beloved object, but nevertheless pays her several
visits, on which he does n't fail to bring up some question
of gallantry that exercises the wits of the company. The
day of the declaration arrives ; it should usually be made
in an alley of some garden, while the company is a little
way off; and it is followed by prompt anger, which is shown
by our flush, and which, for a time, banishes the lover from
our presence. Presently he finds means of appeasing us,
of accustoming us insensibly to the talk of his passion,
56?
and of drawing from us that avowal which takes so
much trouble. After that come adventures, the rivals who
place themselves in the way of an established attachment,
the persecutions of fathers, jealousies caused by false ap-
pearances, reproaches, despairs, abductions, and the rest
of it. That's how things are managed in the right style,
and those are the rules which, in proper love affairs, can't
be dispensed with. But to come without any preamble to
conjugal union, make no other love than the marriage
contract, and seize romance only by its tail, — once more,
father, there can be nothing more like a business deal
than this procedure, and I feel heart-sick at the very
thought of it.
GORGIBUS : What the devil is this kind of talk ? This is
the grand style with a vengeance !
JEAN BAPTISTE MOLIERE
Les Precieuses Ridicules (1659)
MR DARCY AND ELIZABETH
On first hearing it, Mrs Bennett sat quite still, and unable
to utter a syllable. Nor was it under many, many minutes,
that she could comprehend what she heard, though not
in general backward to credit what was for the advantage
of her family, or that came in the shape of a lover to any
of them. She began at length to recover, to fidget about in
her chair, get up, sit down again, wonder, and bless herself.
" Good gracious ! Lord bless me ! only think ! dear me !
Mr Darcy ! Who would have thought it ? And is it really
true ? Oh, my sweetest Lizzy 1 how rich and how great
you will be 1 What pin-money, what jewels, what carriages
568
you will have ! Jane's is nothing to it — nothing at all. I
am so pleased — so happy. Such a charming man 1 so
handsome ! so tall ! Oh, my dear Lizzy ! pray apologise
for my having disliked him so much before. I hope he will
overlook it. Dear, dear Lizzy. A house in town ! Every-
thing that is charming ! Three daughters married ! Ten
thousand a year ! Oh Lord ! what will become of me ? I
shall go distracted."
This was enough to prove that her approbation need
not be doubted ; and Elizabeth . . . soon went away. But
before she had been three minutes in her room, her
mother followed her.
" My dearest child," she cried, " I can think of nothing
else. Ten thousand a year, and very likely more ! 'Tis as
good as a lord ! And a special licence — you must and shall
be married by a special licence. But, my dearest love, tell
me what dish Mr Darcy is particularly fond of, that I
may have it to-morrow." JANE AUSTEN
Pride and Prejudice (1813)
THE BALLET OF BALLETS OF SALOMON: CALLED
IN LATYNE, CANTICUM CANTICORUM
Lyke as the apple tree amonge the trees of the wod, so is
my beloved among the sonnes. My delite is to sit under
his shadowe, for his frute is swete unto my throte. He
bringeth me in to his wyne celler, and loveth me specially
well. Refresh me with grapes, comforte me with apples,
for I am sycke of love. His lefte hande lycth under my
head, and his ryghtc hand embraceth me. ...
Methinke I heare the voyce of my beloved ; lo, there
569
commeth he hopping upon the mountaynes, and leaping
over the litle hylles. My beloved is like a roo or a yong
hart. Beholde he standeth behynde our wall, he loketh
in at the wyndowe, and pepeth thorowe the grate.
My beloved answered and sayd unto me, O stand up my
love, my dove, my beautiful, and come : for loe the wynter
is now past, and the rayne is awaye and gone. The flouers
are come up in the feilde, the twisting time is come, the
voyce of the turtle is heard in our land, the fig tree bryng-
eth forth her fygges, the vynes bare blossoms, and have a
good smell. O stande up, my love, my beautifull, and come
O my dove out of the caverns of the rocks, out of the
holes of the wall : O let me see thy countenance and heare
thy voyce, for swete is thy voyce and fayre is thy face. . . .
My love is myne and I am his, which fedeth among the
lilyes untyl the daye break, and tyl the shadowes be gone.
Come agayne privyly (O my beloved) lyke as a Roo or a
yong Hart, unto the mountaynes. . . .
As for my love, he is whyte and redde coloured, a syngu-
lar person among many thousandes ; his heed is the most
fine gold, the lockes of his heer are busshed, browne as
the evening : his eyes are as the eyes of doves by water
brookes, wasshen with mylke and remayning in a plente-
ous place : his chekes are like a garden bed, wherin the
Apotecaryes plante all maner of swete thynges : his
lyppes drop as the flouers of that most principall Myrre,
his handes are full of golde ryngcs and precious stones. His
body is as the pure yvory, deckt over with Saphirs : his
legges are as the pyllers of marble, set upon sockett of
gold. His face is as Libanus, and as the beautie of the
Cedar trees : his throte is swete, yea he is altogithcr lovely.
Such one is my love, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, such
one is my love. . . .
570
Thou art pleasaunt (O my love) even as lovelynesse it
self, thou art fayre as Jerusalem, glorious as an army of
men with their banners. . . . Thy heavye lockes are lyke
a flocke of goates upon the mount of Galaad. Thy teth
are lyke a flock of shepe that be clypped, which go out of
the washy nge place ; where every one beareth two twyns,
and not one unfrutefull among them. Thy chekes are lyke
a pece of a pomgranate, besydes that which lyeth hyd
wuthin. There are three score quenes, foure score con-
cubynes, and yong women without nomber. But one is
my dove, my darling.
SALOMONS BALLET
Trans. Miles Coverdale
Bible (1539)
MlRABELL AND MlLLAMANT
MILL AM ANT : . . . Ah, I'll never marry, unless I am first
made sure of my Will and Pleasure.
MIRABELL : Would you have 'em both before Marriage ?
Or will you be contented with the first now, and stay for
the other 'till after Grace ?
MILL. : Ah don't be impertinent — My dear Liberty,
shall I leave thee ? My faithful Solitude, my darling
Contemplation, must I bid you then Adieu ? . . . — My
Morning Thoughts, agreeable Wakings, indolent Slum-
bers, all ye douceurs, ye Someils du Matin, adieu — I can't
do't, 'tis more than impossible — Positively Mirabell, I'll
lye a-bed in a Morning as long as I please.
MIR. : Then I'll get up in a Morning as early as I please.
571
MILL. : Ah ! Idle Creature, get up when you will — And
d'ye hear, I won't be call'd Names after I'm marry'd ;
positively I won't be call'd Names.
MIR. : Names !
MILL. : Ay, as Wife, Spouse, my Dear, Joy, Jewel, Love,
Sweet-heart, and the rest of that nauseous Cant, in which
Men and their Wives are so fulsomly familiar, — I shall
never bear that. Good Mirabel!, don't let us be familiar
or fond, nor kiss before Folks, like my Lady Fadler and
Sir Francis : Nor go to Hide-Park together the first
Sunday in a new Chariot, to provoke Eyes and Whispers ;
And then never be seen there together again, as we were
proud of one another the first Wreek, and asham'd of one
another ever after. Let us never Visit together, nor go to
a Play together, but let us be very strange and well-bred :
Let us be as strange as if we had been marry'd a great
while, and as well-bred as if we were not marry'd at all.
MIR. : Have you any more Conditions to offer ? Hitherto
your Demands are pretty reasonable.
MILL.: Trifles, — As Liberty to pay and receive Visits to and
from whom I please ; to write and receive Letters, without
Interrogatories or wry Faces on your part ; to wear what
I please, and chuse Conversation with regard only to my
own Taste ; to have no Obligation on me to converse with
Wits that I don't like, because they are your Acquaintance;
or to be intimate with Fools, because they may be your
Relations. Come to Dinner when I please, dine in my
Dressing-Room when I'm out of Humour, without giving
a Reason. To have my closet inviolate ; to be sole Empress
of my Tea-table, which you must never presume to
approach without first asking leave. And lastly whcre-
ever I am, you shall always knock at the Door before you
572
come in. These Articles subscribed, if I continue to endure
you a little longer, I may by degrees dwindle into a Wife.
Mm. : Your Bill of Fare is somewhat advanced in this
latter Account. Well, have I Liberty to offer Conditions
— That when you are dwindled into a Wife, I may not be
beyond measure enlarg'd into a Husband.
MILL. : You have free leave, propose your utmost, speak
and spare not.
MIR. : I thank you. Inprimis then, I covenant that your
Acquaintance be general ; that you admit no sworn
Confident, or Intimate of your own Sex ; no she Friend
to skreen her Affairs under your Countenance, and tempt
you to make Trial of a mutual Secresie. No Decoy-Duck
to wheadle you a fop — scambling to the Play in a Mask —
Then bring you home in a pretended Fright, when you
think you shall be found out. And rail at me for missing
the Play, and disappointing the Frolick which you had to
pick me up and prove my Constancy,
MILL. : Detestable Inprimis ! I go to the Play in a Mask !
MIR. : Item. I article, that you continue to like your own
Face, as long as I shall : And while it passes currant with
me, that you endeavour not to new Coin it. To which end,
together with all Vizards for the Day, I prohibit all Masks
for the Night, made of Oil'd-skins and I know not what —
Hog's bones, Hare's Gall, Pig Water, and the Marrow of a
roasted Cat. In short, I forbid all Commerce with the
Gentlewoman in what-d'ye-call-it Court. Item. I shut my
doors against all Bauds with Basket and penny-worths of
Muslin, China, Fans, At lasses, etc. — Item, when you shall
be Breeding
MILL. : Ah ! Name it not.
573
MIR. : Which may be presum'd, with a Blessing on our
Endeavours —
MILL. : Odious Endeavours !
MIR. : I denounce against all strait Lacing, squeezing
for a Shape, 'till you mould my Boy's Head like a Sugar-
Loaf ; and instead of a Man-child, make me Father to a
Crooked-Billet. Lastly, to the Dominion of the Tea-Table
I submit. — But with provisio, that you exceed not in
your Province ; but restrain yourself to native and simple
Tea-Table Drinks, as Tea, Chocolate, and Coffee. As like-
wise to Genuine and Authoriz'd Tea-Table Talk — Such
as mending of Fashions, spoiling Reputations, railing at
absent Friends, and so forth — But that on no Account you
encroach upon the Mens Prerogative, and presume to drink
Healths, or toast Fellows ; for prevention of which, I
banish all Foreign Forces, all Auxiliaries to the Tea-Table,
as Orange- Brandy, all Anniseed, Cinamon, Citron, and
Barbado's- Waters, together with Ratafia and the most
noble spirit of Clary. But for Cow slip- Wine, Poppy-
Water, and all Dormitives, those I allow. — These Proviso's
admitted, in other things I may prove a tractable and com-
plying Husband.
MILL. : O horrid Proviso's ! filthy strong Waters ! I
toast Fellows, Odious Men ! I hate your odious Proviso's.
MIR. : Then we're agreed. Shall I kiss your Hand upon
the Contract ? and here comes one to be a witness to the
Sealing of the Deed.
Enter MRS FAINALL
MILL. : Fainall, what snail I do ? Shall I have him ? I
think I must have him.
574
MRS FAIN. : Ay, ay, take him, take him, what shou'd you
do?
MILL. : Well then— I'll take my Death I'm in a horrid
Fright — Fainally I shall never say it — Well — I think —
I'll endure you.
MRS FAIN. : Fy, fy, have him, have him, and tell him so
in plain terms : For I am sure you have a Mind to him.
MILL. : Are you ? I think I have — and the horrid Man
looks as if he thought so too — Well, you ridiculous thing
you, I'll have you — I won't be kissed, nor I won't be
thank'd — Here, kiss my hand tho' — So hold your
Tongue now, don't say a Word.
WILLIAM CONGREVE
The Way of the World (1700)
A HIGH-MINDED PAIR
One day when he was there, looking upon an odde by-
shelf, in her sister's closett, he found a few Latine bookes ;
asking whose they were, he was told they were her elder
sister's, whereupon, inquiring more after her, he began
first to be sorrie she was gone before he had scene her. . . .
Then he grew to love to heare mention of her, and the
other gentlewomen who had bene her companions, used to
talke much to him of her, telling him how reserv'd and
studious she was, and other things which they esteem'd
no advantage ; but it so much inflam'd Mr. Hutchinson's
desire of seeing her, that he began to wonder at himselfe
that his heart, which had ever had such an indifferency
for the most excellent of womankind, should have such
575
strong impulses towards a stranger he never saw ; and
certainly it was of the Lord, (though he perceiv'd it not),
who had ordein'd him, thro' so many various providences,
to be yoak'd with her in whom he found so much satisfac-
tion. There scarcely past anie day, but some accident or
some discourse still kept alive his desire of seeing this
gentlewoman. . . . One day there was a greate deale of
company mett at Mr. Coleman's, the gentleman's house
where he tabled, to heare the musick, and a certeine song
was sung . , . and gave occasion to some of the company to
mention an answer to it, which was in the house, and
upon some of their desires read : a gentleman saying
'twas believ'd that a woman in the neighbourhood had
made it, it was presently inquir'd who ? whereupon a
gentleman, then present . . . sayd, there were but two
women that could be guilty of it, whereof one was . . .
Mrs. Apsley. Mr. Hutchinson, fancying something of
rationallity in the sonnett, beyond the customary reach
of a shee-witt, allthough, to speak truth, it signified very
little, addrest himself to the gentleman, and told him, he
could scarcely believe it was a woman's, whereupon this
gentleman, who was a man of good understanding and
expression, and inspir'd with some passion for her him-
selfe, which made him regard all her perfections through a
multiplying glasse, told Mr. Hutchinson, that ... he
was confident it was Mrs. Apsley 's only, for she had sence
above all the rest Mr. Hutchinson hearing all this, sayd
... I cannot be at rest till this ladie's returne, that I may
be acquainted with her ; the gentleman replied, Sir, you
must not expect that, for she is of an humour she will not
be acquainted with any of mankind, and however this song
is stolen forth, she if the nicest creature in the world of
suffering her perfections to be knowne, she shuns the
576
converse of men as the plague, she only lives in the enjoy-
ment of herself, and has not the humanitie to communi-
cate that happiness to any of our sex. " Well," sayd Mr.
Hutchinson, " but I will be acquainted with her " ; and
indeed the information of this reserv'd humour pleas'd
him, more than all elce he had heard, and fill'd him now
with thoughts, how he should attaine the sight and
knowledge of her. . . . This at length he obteined ; but
his heart, being prepossesst with his owne fancy, was
not free to discerne how little there was in her to answer
so greate an expectation. She was not ugly, in a carelesse
riding-habitt she had a melancholly negligence both of
herselfe and others, as if she neither affected to please
others, nor tooke notice of anie thing before her : yet
spite of all her indifferency, she was surpriz'd with some
unusuall liking in her soule, when she saw this gentleman,
who had hake, eies, shape, and countenance enough to
begett love in any one at the first, and these sett of with a
gracefull and generous mine, which pro mis 'd an extra-
ordinary person ; he was at that time, and indeed always
very neatly habited, for he wore good and rich clothes,
and had variety of them, and had them well suited and
every way answerable. ... He found withall, that though
she was modest, she was accostable, and willing to enter-
taine his acquaintance. This soone past into a mutuall
friendship betweene them, and though she innocently
thought nothing of love, yett was she glad to have
acquir'd such a friend. . . . Mr. Hutchinson, on the other
side, having bene told, and seeing how she shun'd all
other men, and how civilly she entertain'd him, believ'd
that a secret power had wrought a mutuall inclination
betweene them, and dayly frequented her mother's house,
and had the opportunitie of conversing with her in those
TP 577
pleasant walkes, which, at that sweete season of the spring,
invited all the neighbouring inhabitants to seeke their
joyes ; where, though they were never alone, yet they had
every day opertunity for converse with each other, which
the rest shar'd not in, while every one minded their owne
delights. ... He in the meane while prosecuted his live,
with so much discretion, duty, and honor that at the
length, through many difficulties, he accomplisht his
designe. I shall passe by all the little amorous relations,
which if I would take the paynes to relate, would make a
true history of a more handsome management of love
then the best romances describe ; for these are to be
forgotten as the vanities of youth, not worthy of mention
among the greater transactions of his life. There is this
only to be recorded, that never was there a passion more
ardent and lesse idolatrous ; he lov'd her better than his
life, with inexpressible tendernesse and kindnesse, had a
most high obliging esteeme of her, yet still consider'd
honour, religion, and duty, above her, nor ever suffer 'd
the intrusion of such a dotage as should blind him from
marking her imperfections ; these he looked upon with
such an indulgent eie as did not abate his love and esteeme
of her, while it augmented his care to blott out all those
spotts which might make her appeare lesse worthy of that
respect he pay'd her ; and thus indeed he soone made her
more equall to him than he found her ; for she was a very
faithfull mirror, reflecting truly, though but dimmely,
his owne glories upon him, so long as he was present. . . .
'Twas not her face he lov'd, her honor and her vertue
were his mistresses, and these (like Pigmalion's) images of
his owne making. . . . That day that the friends on both
sides met to conclude the marriage, she fell sick of the
small pox, which was many wayes a greate triall upon
578
him ; first, her life was allmost in desperate hazard, and
then the disease, for the present, made her the most
deformed person that could be scene, for a greate while
after she recover'd ; yett he was nothing troubled at it, but
married her as soone as she was able to quitt the chamber
when the priest and all that saw her were affrighted to
looke on her : but God recompenc'd his justice and
constancy, by restoring her, though she was longer than
ordinary before she recover'd, as well as before. One thing
is very observable, and worthy imitation in him ; although
he had as strong and violent affection for her as any man
had, yet he declar'd it not to her till he had first acquainted
her father. ... At length, to the full content of all, the thing
was accomplish'd, and on the third day of July, in the
1638, he was married to Mrs. Lucy Apsley, the second
daughter of Sr. Allen Apsley, late liftenant of the Tower
of London, at St. Andrew's church in Holborne.
LUCY HUTCHINSON
Memoirs of Life of John Hutchinson (c. 1665)
WILLIAM AND DOROTHY
Nothing can alter the resolution I have taken of settling
my whole stock of happinesse upon the affection of a
person that is deare to mee whose kindnesse I shall
infinitly preffer before any other consideration what-
soever, and I shall not blush to tell you, that you have
made the whole world besydes soe indifferent to mee,
that if I cannot be yours they may dispose mee how they
please, H.C. will be as acceptable to me as anybody else.
DOROTHY OSBORNE
Letter to Sir William Temple (1653)
579
A PRETTY RIDDLE
Down in a Garden sat my dearest love
Her skin more soft than down of Swan,
More tender hearted than the Turtle Dove,
And far more kinde than bleeding Pellican ;
I courted her, she rose, and blushing said,
Why was I born to live, and die a Maid ?
With that I pluckt a pretty Marygold,
Whose dewy leaves shut up when day is done,
Sweeting (I said) arise, look and behold,
A pretty Riddle Fie to thee unfold.
These leaves shut in as close as cloyster'd Nun,
Yet will thye open when they see the Sun.
What mean you by this Riddle Sir, she said,
I pray expound it : Then I thus began,
Are not Men made for Maids, and Maids for Men ?
With that she chang'd her colour, and grew wan,
Since now this Riddle you so well unfold,
Be you the Sun, Fie be the Marygold. ANON
Song 70 : New Academy of Compliments (c. 1630)
THE LOST NYMPH
Tell me you wandering spirits of the Ayre,
Did you not see a Nimph more bright, more faire
Then beauties darling, or of parts more sweet
Than stolne content ? If such a one you meet
Wait on her hourely where so e're she flies,
And cry, and cry, Amintas for her absence dies.
Go search the Vallies, pluck up every Rose,
You'l find a scent, a blush of her in those :
580
Fish, Fish for Pearle, or Corrall, there you'l see
How orientall all her colours bee :
Go call the Ecchoes to your ayde, and cry,
Chloris, Chloris, for that's her name for whom I dy.
But stay a while, I have inform'd you ill,
Were she on earth, she had been with me still :
Go fly to Heaven, examine every Sphere,
And try what Star hath lately lighted there ;
If any brighter than the Sun you see.
Fall down, fall down and worship it, for that is
shee. ANON
Select Musicall Ayres and Dialogues (1672)
SCEPTICISM
HERODOTUS DOUBTS
Besides many other stories which the Hellenes tell with-
out due consideration, this tale is especially foolish which
they tell about Heracles — I for my part am of the opinion
that die Hellenes when they tell this tale are altogether
without knowledge of the nature and customs of the
Egyptians. . . . Besides this, how is it possible that
Heracles, being one person only . . . should slay many
myriads ? Having said so much of these matters, we pray
that we may have grace from both the gods and the
heroes for our speech. . . .
I do not believe this tale either, that nature produces
one-eyed men which in all other respects are like other
men. . . .
These bald-headed men say (though I do not believe
it) that the mountains are inhabited by men with goats'
feet ; and that . . . others are found who sleep through six
months of the year. This I do not admit at all as true. . . .
As to the feathers of which the Scythians say the air
is full . . . the opinion which I have is this : — in the parts
beyond this land it snows continually. . . . Now whoso-
ever has seen close at hand snow falling thickly knows
what I mean without further explanation. . . .
It is said of them by the Scythians . . . that once in
every year each of the Neuroi becomes a wolf for a few
days, and then returns to his original form. For my part I
do not believe them when they say this, but they say it
nevertheless, and swear it moreover. . . .
I marvel if the tale is true which is reported, for it is
said that he dived into the sea at Aphetai and did not come
up till he reached Artemision, having traversed here some-
where about eighty furlongs through the sea. Now there
are told about this man several other tales which seem
likely to be false, but some also which are true : about
this matter however let it be stated as my opinion that he
came to Artemision in a boat.
HERODOTUS (sth cent. B.C.)
Trans. G. C. Macaulay
PLINY Too
That men may be transformed into wolves, and restored
again to their former shape, we must confidently beleeve
582
to be a lowd lie, or else give credit to all those tales which
we have for so many ages found to be meere fables. . . .
A wonder it is to see, to what passe these Greekes are
come in their credulity : there is not so shamelesse a lye
but it findeth one or other of them to uphold and main-
taine it.
PLINY THE ELDER, Natural History (c. 77)
Trans. Philemon Holland (1601)
THE STRANGE RELATIONS OF AUTHORS
The strange relations made by Authors, may sufficiently
discourage our adherence unto Authority, and which if
we believe we must be apt to swallow anything. . . .
The common opinion of the Ostrich ... or Sparrow-
Camel, conceives that it digesteth Iron ; and this is con-
firmed by the affirmations of many. . . . Notwithstanding
upon enquiry we find it very questionable, and the nega-
tive seems most reasonably entertained ; whose verity
indeed we do the rather desire, because hereby we shall
relieve our ignorance of one occult quality. . . .
We shall not, I hope, disparage the Resurrection of our
Redeemer, if we say the Sun doth not dance on Easter
Day. And though we would willingly assent unto any
sympathetical exultation, yet cannot conceive therein
any more than a Tropical expression. Whether any such
motion there were in that day wherein Christ arised,
Scripture hath not revealed, which hath been punctual
in other records concerning solar miracles : and the
Areopagite that was amazed at the Eclipse, took no notice
of this. . . .
583
And though it be said that poyson will break a Venice
glass, yet have we not met with any of that nature. . . .
The story of the wandering Jew is very strange, and
will hardly obtain belief. . . .
Unto some it hath seemed incredible what Herodotus
reporteth of the great Army of Xerxes, that drank whole
rivers dry. And unto the Author himself it appeared
wondrous strange. . . .
That Annibal eat or brake through the Alps with
Vinegar, may be too grossly taken. . . .
That Archimedes burnt the ships of Marcellus, with
speculums of parabolical figures, at three furlongs . . .
sounds hard unto reason. . . .
SIR THOMAS BROWNE, Pseudodoxia Epidemica (1646)
LOUD LIARS
Many have held opinion that Pliny and Aulus Gellius were
loud liars, when they wrote and published, that there lived
a certain kinde of people in Scythia, which had Dogs
heads, and that they howled like dogs, instead of speaking
as other men doe. JOHN BULWER
Anthropometamorphosis, or the Artificial Changeling
(1650)
No SUCH THING
I feel that we should say most times : There is no such
thing. MICHAEL DE MONTAIGNE, Essays (1580)
Trans. John Florio (1603)
584
AN IGNORANT FELLOW
You seem sollicitous about that pretty thing called soul.
I do protest you I know nothing of it, not whether it is,
nor what it is, nor what it shall be. Young scholars and
priests know all that perfectly. For my part I am but a
very ignorant fellow. F. M. A< DE VOLTAIRE
Letter to James Boswell (Feb. 1765, after BosweWs
visit to Ferney and in reply to a letter continuing their
theological controversy)
SERMONS
A DEMOCRATIC SERMON
God forgive mee I was as neer Laughing Yesterday where
I should not : would you beleeve that I had the grace to
goe heare a sermon upon a week day . . . and Mr Marshall
was the man that preached, but never any body was soe
defeated, hee is soe famed that I expected rare things
from him and seriously I listned to him at first with as
much reverence and attention as if hee had bin St Paul.
And what doe you think hee told us ? why that if there
were no kings no Queens noe Lord's no Lady's noe
Gentlemen nor Gentlewoman, in the world, twould
bee noe losse at all to God Almighty. This wee had over
some forty times which made mee remember it whither
585
I would or not, the rest was much at this rate, enterlarded
with the prittyest od phrases that I had the most adoe
to look soberly enough for the place I was in that ever
I had in my life ; hee do's not preach soe always sure ;
if hee do's I cannot beleeve his Sermon's will doe much
toward's the bringing any body to heaven, more than by
Excercising there Patience. Yet Fie say that for him, hee
stood stoutly for Tyth's, though in my opinion few
deserved them lesse than hee, and it may bee hee would
bee better without them.
DOROTHY OSBORNE, Letter to Sir William Temple (1653)
PREACHING TO THE JEWS
A sermon was preach'd to the Jewes at Ponte Sisto, who
are constrain'd to it till the houre is don ; but it is with so
much malice in their countenances, spitting, hum'ing,
coughing, and motion, that it is almost impossible they
should heare a word from the preacher. A conversion is
very rare.
JOHN EVELYN, Diary (Jan. 7, 1645)
KEEPING THE DEAN IN ORDER
Leave that alone ! To your text, Mr Dean ! To your text !
Leave that. We have heard enough of that. To your
Subject ! QUEEN ELIZABETH
(To the Dean of St Paul's when he preached against
images in churches)
586
MR. PEPYS HEARS SERMONS
May 14. 1669.
Most of the company gone, and I going, I heard by a
gentleman of a sermon that was to be there ; [Lambeth
Palace] and so I staid to hear it, thinking it serious, till by
and by the gentleman told me it was a mockery, by one
Cornet Bolton, a very gentleman-like man, that behind a
chair did pray and preach like a Presbyter Scot that ever I
heard in my life, with all the possible imitation in grimaces
and voice. And his text about the hanging up their harps
upon the willows ; and a serious good sermon too, exclaim-
ing against Bishops, and crying up of my good Lord Eglin-
ton, till it made us all burst ; but I did wonder to have
the [Arch] Bishop at this time to make himself sport
with things of this kind, but I perceive it was shewn him
as a rarity ; and he took care to have the room door shut,
but there was about twenty gentlemen there, and myself,
infinitely pleased with the novelty.
Nov. 16. 1661.
So to church again, and heard a simple fellow upon the
praise of Church musique, and exclaiming against men's
wearing their hats on in the church, but I slept part of the
sermon, till latter prayer and blessing and all was done
without waking which I never did in my life.
April i. ib.
Staid to hear a sermon ; but, it being a Presbyterian
one, it was so long, that after above an hour of it we went
away, and I home and dined.
587
Christmas Day, ib.
Bishop Morley preached upon the song of the Angels
. . . Methought he made but a poor sermon, but long, and
reprehending the mistaken jollity of the Court for the
true joy that shall and ought to be on those days, he par-
ticularized concerning their excess in plays and gaming,
. . . Upon which it was worth observing how far they are
come from taking the reprehensions of a bishopp seriously,
that they all laugh in the chappell when he reflected on
their ill actions and courses. He did much press us to
join these publique days of joy, and to hospitality. But
one that stood by whispered in my ear that the Bishopp
himself do not spend one groat to the poor himself.
SAMUEL PEPYS
Diary
REFRESHMENT
At the 2 bowers sermons at St Pauls crosse the preacher
to refresh him and continue his voyce was used to stoope
down in the pulpitt and drinck.
SIR THOMAS BROWNE
Miscellaneous Writings (undated)
PREACHING LIKE AN ANGEL
His Majestic appointed him a day to preach to him. And
though his Majestic and others expected much from him,
yet he was so happy (which few are) as to satisfie and
588
exceed their expectations : preaching the Word so, as
shewed he was possest with those joyes that he labored
to distill into others : A Preacher in earnest, weeping
sometimes for his Auditory, some with them, alwayes
preaching to himselfe like an Angel from a cloud, though
in none : carrying some (as St. Paul was) to Heaven, in
holy raptures ; and enticing others, by a sacred art and
courtship, to amend their lives ; here picturing a vice so
as to make it ugly to those that practised it ; and a vertue
so, as to make it beloved, even by those that lov'd it not ;
and all this with a most particular grace, and an un-
imitable fashion of speaking.
IZAAK WALTON
The Life and Death of Dr. Donne
(1640 and 1670 editions)
A GOOD RIDDANCE
I have liv'd to see both Greek and Latin almost entirely
driven out of the Pulpit, for which I am heartily glad.
JONATHAN SWIFT
Letter to a Young Gentleman (1721)
IF I WERE A CLERGYMAN
Now I felt that if I composed and preached sermons, I
should by no means compose myself to the Vicar's
threadbare subjects — should preach the Wrath of God,
and sound the last Trump in the ears of my Hell-doomed
589
congregation, cracking the heavens and dissolving the world
with the eclipses and earthquakes of the great Day of
Judgement. Then I might refresh them with high and
incomprehensible Doctrines, beyond the reach of Reason
— Predestination, Election, the Co-existence and Co-
eternities of the incomprehensible Triad. And with what
a holy vehemence would I exclaim and cry out against all
forms of doctrinal Error — all the execrable hypotheses of
the great Heresiarchs ! Then there would be many ancient
and learned and out-of-the-way Iniquities to denounce
and splendid, neglected Virtues to inculcate — Apostolic
Poverty, and Virginity, that precious jewel, that fair gar-
land, so prized in Heaven, but so rare, it is said, on earth.
For in the range of creeds and morals it is the highest
peaks that shine for me with a certain splendour : it is
towards those radiant Alps that, if I were a Clergyman,
I should lead my flock to pasture.
LOGAN PEARSALL SMITH
Trivia (1918)
THE SWEETEST WORDS
And never was I more glad after a long sermon on a cold
day to come to those dear words — " Now to God the
Father," and " The Peace of God," — words which were
for so many years the sweetest to me in the whole Church
service, and which I shall love as long as I live.
ROBERT SOUTHEY
Letter to Captain Southey, R.N. (1812)
590
SHOWING OFF
PARTRIDGE FOR DINNER
The Gentlemen Criolians or natives of Chiapa ... as
presumptuous they are and arrogant, as if the noblest
bloud in the Court of Madrid ran through their veines.
It is a common thing amongst them to make a dinner only
with a dish of Frixoles in black broath, boyled with pepper
and garlicke, saying it is the most nourishing meat in all
the India's ; and after this so stately a dinner they will
be sure to come out to the street-dore of their houses, to
see and to be seen, and there for halfe an houre will they
stand shaking off the crums of bread from their cloaths,
bands, (but especially from their ruffes when they used
them) and from their mustachoes. And with their tooth-
pickers they will stand picking their teeth, as if some
small Partridge bone stuck in them ; nay if a friend passe
by at that time, they will be sure to find out some cmm
or other in their mustacho (as if on purpose the crums of
the table had been shaken upon their beards . . .) and
they will be sure to vent out some non-truth, as to saya
A Senor que linds perdiz he comido oy, O Sir, what a dainty
Partridge have I eat to-day, where as they picke out
591
nothing from their teeth but a black husk of a dry frixole
or Turkey bean. —
THOMAS GAGE
The English- American ; his travail by sea and land (1648)
IT SEEMED TO HIM
Now Sir William would sometimes, when he was pleasant
over a glasse of wine with his most intimate friends — e.g.
Sam. Butler (author of Hudibras) etc. — say, that it
seemed to him that he writt with the very spirit of Shakes-
peare, and seemd contented enough to be thought his
son. He would tell them the story as above, in which
way his mother had a very light report.
JOHN AUBREY
Brief Lives : Sir William Davenant (c. 1680)
LUCULLUS
He was a vaine man in his ordinarie service at his borde,
not only in that his beddes whereon he fedde, were cov-
ered with rich carpettes of purple, and him selfe served
in gold and silver vessell set with pretious stones, and that
there was dauncing, musicke, playes, and other such like
pastimes of ordinary : but also for that he was continually
served with all sortes of fine dainty dishes, with workes of
pastry, bancketing dishes, and frute curiously wrought
and prepared, which only made him to be wonderd at of
men of simple understanding and mean condicion. . . .
592
In such thinges therefore did Lucullus lavishly and
riotously spend his goods, like spoyles in dede gotten of
slaves and barbarous peple.
PLUTARCH
Lives (c. 100)
Trans. Sir Thomas North (1579)
A FIRE-EATING CAPTAIN
SIR JOSEPH WITOLL : By the Lord Harry, Mr Sharper,
he's a brave a Fellow as Cannibal, are not you, Bully-
Back?
SHARPER : Hannibal I believe you mean, Sir Joseph.
CAPTAIN BLUFFE : Undoubtedly he did. Sir ; faith
Hannibal was a very pretty Fellow — but Sir Joseph,
Comparisons are odious — Hannibal was a very pretty
Fellow in those Days, it must be granted — but alas Sir !
were he alive now, he would be nothing, nothing in the
Earth.
SHARPER : How Sir ! I make a doubt, if there be at this
Day a greater General breathing.
BLUFFE : Oh excuse me, Sir ; have you serv'd abroad, Sir ?
SHARP. : Not I really, Sir.
BL. : Oh I thought so — Why then you can know nothing,
Sir : I am afraid you scarce know the History of the late
War in Flanders, with all its particulars.
SH. : Not I, Sir, no more than publick Letters, or Gazettes
tell us.
BL. : Gazette ! Why there agin now — Why, Sir, there
are not three Words of Truth, the Year round, put into
the Gazette — Fll tell you a strange thing now as to that —
593
You must know, Sir, I was resident in Flanders the last
Campaign, had a small Post there ; but no matter for
that — Perhaps, Sir, there was scarce any thing of moment
done but an humble Servant of yours, that shall be
nameless, was an Eye Witness of — I won't say had the
greatest share in't. Tho' I might say that too, since I name
no Body you know — Well, Mr Sharper, would you think
it ? In all this time — as I hope for a Truncheon — this
rascally Gazette-writer never so much once mention'd
me — Not once by the Wars — Took no more notice, than
as if Nol. Bluffe had not been in the Land of the Living.
SH. : Strange !
SIR Jo. : Yet by the Lord Harry 'tis true Mr Sharper, for
I went every Day to Coffee-Houses to read the Gazette
my self.
BL. : Ay, ay, no matter — You see, Mr Sharper after all I
am content to retire — Live a private Person — Scipio and
others have done it
SIR J. : Ay, this damned Modesty of yours — Agad if he
would put in for't he might be made General himself yet.
BL. : Oh fie, no Sir Joseph — You know I hate this.
SIR J. : Let me but tell Mr Sharper a little, how you eat
Fire once out of the Mouth of a Cannon — agad he did ;
those impenetrable Whiskers of his have confronted
Flames
BL. : Death, what do you mean, Sir Joseph ?
SIR J. : Look you know, I tell you he's so modest he'll own
nothing.
BL. : Pish you have put me out, I have forgot what I was
about. Pray hold your Tongue and give me leave.
WILLIAM CONGREVE
The Old Batchelor (1693)
594
SWIMMING THE HELLESPONT
This morning I swam from Sestos to Abydos. . . . The
current renders it hazardous ; — so much so that I doubt
whether Leander's conjugal affection must not have been
a little chilled in his passage to Paradise I ... crossed
the " broad Hellespont " in about an hour and ten minutes.
LORD BYRON
Letter to Henry Drury (1810)
THE FROTH OF OSTENTATION
All his humor rises up into the froth of ostentation ;
which if it once settle, falles downe into a narrow roome.
If the excesse be in the understanding part, all his wit is
in print ; the Presse hath left his head emptie ; yea, not
only what he had, but what he could borrow without
leave. If his glorie be in his devotion, he gives not an
Almes but on record ; and if he have once done well, God
heares of it often ; for upon every unkindnesse hee is
readie to upbraid him with his merits. . . . Or, if a more
gallant humour possesse him, hee weares all his land on
his backe, and walking high, looks over his left shoulder,
to see if the point of his rapier follow him with a grace.
Hee is proud of another mans horse ; and wel mounted,
thinks every man wrongs him, that looks not at him. A
bare head in the street doth him more good than a meales
meat. Hee sweares bigge at an Ordinarie, and talkes of
the Court with a sharpe accent ; neither vouchsafes to
name anie not honourable, nor those without some terme
595
of familiaritie, and likes well to see the hearer looke upon
him amazedly ; as if he sayd, How happie is this man that
is so great with great ones ! Under pretence of seeking
for a scroll of newes, hee drawes out an handfull of letters,
indorsed with his owne stile, to the height ; and halfe
reading every title, passes over the latter part, with a
murmur; not without signifying, what Lord sent this,
what great Ladie the other ; and for what sutes : the last
paper (as it happens) is his newes from his honourable
friend in the French Court. In the midst of dinner, his
Lacquay comes sweating in, with a sealed note from his
creditour, who now threatens a speedie arrest, and
whispers the ill newes in his Masters eare, when hee aloud
names a Counsellor of State, and prefesses to know the
imployment. The same messenger hee calles with an
imperious nod, and after expostulation, where he hath left
his fellowes, in his eare sends him for some new spur-
leathers or stockings, by this time footed, and when he
is gone halfe the roome, recalles him, and sayth aloud,
// is no matter, let the greater bagge alone till I come ; and
yet againe calling him closer, whispers (so that all the
table may hear) that if his crimson sute be readie against the
day, the rest need no haste. He picks his teeth when his
stomacke is emptie, and calles for Pheasants at a common
Inne. You shall find him prizing the richest jewels, and
fairest horses, when his purse yeelds not money enough
for earnest. He thrusts himselfe into the prease before
some great Ladies ; and loves to be scene neere the head
of a great traine. His talke is how many Mourners hee
furnish't with gownes at his fathers funerals, how many
messes ; how rich his coat is, and how ancient, how great
his alliance : what challenges hee hath made and
answered ; what exploits at Cales or Nieuport : and when
596
hee hath commended others buildings, furnitures, sutes,
compares them with his owne. When hee hath undertaken
to be the Broker for some rich Diamond, he weares it,
and pulling off his glove to stroke up his haire, thinks no
eye should have any other object. Entertaining his friend,
he chides his Cooke for no better cheere, and names the
dishes he meant, and wants. To conclude, hee is ever on
the stage, and acts still a glorious part abroad. ... He is a
Spanish souldier on an Italian Theater ; a bladder full of
winde, a skin full of words ; a fooles wonder, and a wise
mans foole.
JOSEPH HALL
Characters of Vertues and Vices (1608)
THAT WAY MADNESS LIES
If we consult the Collegiates of Moorfields, we shall find
most of them are beholden to their Pride for their intro-
duction into that magnificent Palace. I had some Years ago
the Curiosity to enquire into the particular circumstances
of these whimsical Freeholders, and learned from their
own Mouths the Conditions and Character of each of
them. Indeed, I found that all I spoke to were Persons of
Quality. There were at that time five Duchesses, three
Earls, two Heathen Gods, an Emperor, and a Prophet.
There were also a great Number of such as were locked
up from their Estates, and others who concealed their
Titles. A Leather-seller of Taunton whisper 'd me in the
Ear, That he was the Duke of Monmouth ; but begged
me not to betray him. At a little distance from him sat a
597
Taylor's Wife, ... I presumed to ask her, Who she was ?
And was answered, My Lady Mayoress. . . .
I was resolved to guard myself against a Passion which
makes such Havock in the Brain, and produces so much
Disorder in the Imagination. For this Reason I have
endeavoured to keep down the secret Swellings of
Resentment, and stifle the very first Suggestions of Self-
Esteem.
RICHARD STEELE
Lucubrations of Isaac Bicker staff. Tatler No. 127
(1709)
TARTARIN GOES LION-HUNTING
Suddenly, towards ten o'clock, there was a great move-
ment in the crowd. The garden gate turned violently on
its hinges.
" It's he ! It's he ! " people cried.
It was he.
When he appeared on the threshold, two cries of
astonishment went up from the crowd.
" He's a Turk ! "
" He's got spectacles ! "
Tartarin of Tarascon, in fact, had conceived it to be his
duty, since he was going to Algeria, to assume Algerian
costume. Large puffed trousers of white linen, small tight
jacket with metal buttons, two feet of red sash round the
stomach, the neck bare, the face shaved, on the head a
huge red fez, and a blue streamer of immense length !
With this, two heavy guns, one on each shoulder, a great
hunting-knife in the sash, a cartridge pouch on the
598
stomach, a revolver balancing in a leather pocket on the
hip. That was all. ...
Ah, pardon me, I forgot the spectacles ; an enormous
pair of blue goggles which came in very aptly to correct
anything that might be a little too fierce in our hero's
get-up.
" Long live Tartarin ! Long live Tartarin ! " shouted
the people. The great man smiled, but did not bow,
because of the guns which hindered him. For the rest,
he knew now how to keep popular favour ; possibly in the
depths of his soul he cursed his dreadful countrymen who
were forcing him to depart, to leave his pretty little home,
with its white walls and its green shutters. . . . But of
this one saw nothing.
Calm and proud, though rather pale, he walked along
the street . . . and briskly took the road to the railway
station.
ALPHONSE DAUDET
Tartarin de Tarascon (18721
A SCHOLAR-MOUNTEBANK
He is indeed a kind of Schollar-Mountebank . . . trickt out
in all the accoutrements of Learning, ... he heares you
not till the third knocke, and then comes out very angry,
as interrupted. You find him in his Slippers, and a Pen in
his eare. . . . His Table is spred wide with some Classicke
Folio, which is as constant to it as the carpet, and hath
laid open in the same Page this halfe yeere. . . . His pocket
is seldome without a Greeke Testament, or Hebrew
Bible, which hee opens only in the Church, and that when
599
some stander by lookes over. He has his sentences for
Company, some scatterings of Seneca and Tacitus, which
are good upon all occasions. If he reads any thing in the
morning, it comes up all at dinner ; and as long as that
lasts, the discourse is his. Hee is a great Plagiarie of
Taverne-wit, and comes to sermons onely that hee may
talke of Austin. ... He talkes much of Scaliger and
Casaubone, and the Jesuites, and prefers some unheard-
of Dutch name before them all. He has verses to bring in
upon these and these hints, and it shall goe hard but he
will wind in his opportunity.
JOHN EARLE
Micro-cosmographie (1628)
SHOWS
WHAT So PLEASANT
What so pleasant as to see some Pageant or Sight goe by,
as at Coronations, Weddings, and such like Solemnities,
to see an Embassadour or a Prince met, received, enter-
tained, with Masks, Shewes, Fireworks, &c. ... To behold
a battle fought, like that of Cressy, or Agincourt. ... To
see one of Caesar's triumphs in old Rome revived, or the
like. ... So infinitely pleasant are such Shewes, to the
sight of which often times they will come hundreds of
miles, give any money for a place, and remember many
600
yeares after with singular delight. Bodine, when he was
Embassador in England, said he saw the Noblemen go in
their Robes to the Parliament House ... he was much
affected with the sight of it. Pomponius Columna . . . saw
13 Frenchmen and so many Italians once fight for a whole
Army : . . . the pleasantest sight that ever he saw in his
life. Who would not have been affected with such a
Spectacle ? . . . The very reading of Feasts, Triumphs,
Interviews, Nuptialls, Tilts, Turnaments, Combats, and
Monomaches, is most acceptable and pleasant.
ROBERT BURTON
The Anatomy of Melancholy (1621. Edition 1632)
MONEY'S WORTH
To see a strange out-landish Fowle,
A quaint Baboon, an Ape, an Owle,
A dancing Beare, a Gyants bone,
A foolish Ingin move alone,
A Morris-dance, a Puppit-play.
Mad Tom to sing a Roundelay,
A Woman dancing on a Rope,
Bull-baiting also at the Hope ;
A Rimers Jests, a Juglers cheats,
A Tumbler showing cunning feats,
Or Players acting on the Stage —
There goes the bounty of our Age :
But unto any pious motion,
There's little coine and lesse devotion.
HENRY FARLEY
(1621)
601
SHOPPING
THE PEDLAR
i.
Who is it will repaire,
or come and see my packet :
Where there's store of Ware,
if any of you lacke it,
view the Fay re.
2.
Faire Maydens come and see,
If heere be ought will please you :
And if we can agree,
lie give you just your due,
Or nere trust me.
5-
Farre-fetcht Indian ware,
and China hard to enter :
Which to get is rare,
costs many lives to venter,
we nere care.
602
6.
From Venice Citie comes
great store of rare Complection,
From western lies your Gummes
to keep Teeth from infection,
and from Rhewmes.
7-
Heere is a water rare,
will make a wench that's fiftie,
For to look more fayre
then one that wants of twenty,
stil'd from the Ayre.
8.
A Perriwig to weare,
or Cover for bare places :
If you have lost your heare,
full many one it graces :
tis not deare.
9-
Heeres Poking stickes of steele,
and Christall Looking Glasses :
Here globes that round will wheele
to see each one that passes,
Dildo Dill.
10.
Pomado for your Lips,
to make them soft and ruddy :
And sweet as Cipres chips,
a lustre like a Ruby
soone it gets,
603
II.
Heres Bracelets for your arm
of Corall, or of Amber :
A Powder that will Charme
or bring one to your Chamber,
tis no harme.
Rebatoes, Tyres, and Rings,
Sissers and a Thimble :
And many pretty thinges,
to keepe your fingers nimble,
weaving stringes.
Balles of Camphyre made,
to keepe your face from pimples :
An Unguent that's alayd,
you never shall have wrinckles,
if a Mayde.
18.
Spunges for your face,
or Sope that came from Turkey :
Your favour it will grace,
if that you be not durty,
in no place.
19-
Rich imbroydered Gloves,
to draw upon your white hand :
Or to give your Loves,
a Ruffe or falling band,
my pretty Doves.
604
22.
Pinnes both white and red,
of all sortes and all sizes :
Plumbes and Ginger bread,
my Wares of divers prizes,
Bookes to read.
23.
Venice Glasses fine,
were newly made in London :
To drinke your Beere or Wine,
come now my Pack's undone,
speake betime.
24.
Lawne and Cambricke pure.
as good as e're was worne :
Like yron it will dure,
untill that it be torne,
be you sure.
25.
Heer's many other thinges,
As Jewes trumps, pipes, and Babies :
St. Martins Beades and Ringes,
and other toyes for Ladyes,
knots and stringes.
27.
And as my Ware doth prove,
so let me take your mony :
My pretty Turtle Dove,
that sweeter is then hony,
which is Love ; ANON
The Pedler opening his Pack (c. 1620)
Ax THE ROYAL EXCHANGE (FOR TO CHEAPEN)
SHOP-GIRL : Madame, what doth it please you to have ?
Would ye have any faire linnen cloath ? Mistris, see what
I have, and I will showe you the fayrest linnen cloath in
London, if you do not like it, you may leave it, you shall
bestowe nothing but the looking on, The payne shall be
ours to showe them you.
LADY : Into what Shop shall we goe ?
MASTER Du VAULT-L'AMOUR : Madame, will it please you
to enter into this Shop ? . . .
LADY : How sell you the Ell of this Cambricke ?
SHOP-GIRL : I knowe you have so good Judgement in
linnen cloath, that I dare not showe you any for good,
unlesse it were so : there needes no replye to such a Lady
as you are, you may say your pleasure, the Cambricke
will cost you twentie shillings the Ell.
LADY : Truly it lacketh no price : And if thinges be so
much worth as those which sell them, doe make them to
be : your Cambricke is very good, for you holde it at a
good price, But yet I will not give so much tho.
SHOP-GIRL : How much will it please you to give then
Madame ? to the end that I may have your Custome ?
LADY : I will give you fifteene shillings, If you will take
my money make shorte, for I have other busines then to
tarye heere.
SHOP-GIRL : Truely Madame I would be verye sorie to
denie you if I could give it at that price, but in truth
I cannot, unles I should lose by it.
LADY : I will give you sixteen, and not one halfpeny more.
Mistris Du Pont-galliard, is it not enough ?
MISTRESSE Du PONT-GALLIARD : Me thinketh it Madame
606
that you offer too much, as of me, I would not give so
much.
LADY : Let us goe then to the shop on the other side. . . .
SHOP-GIRL : Madame, if you finde any better, I am con-
tent to give you mine for nothing.
LADY : Let it be as good as it will, yet you shall not have
of me a penye more for it, for I have offred too much
alreadie.
SEMPSTER : Madame, I am content to lose in it, of the
price that I sell it to others, in hope that you will buye of
us when you shall have need : how many Elles will it
please you to have ?
LADY : Halfe a dossen Elles. . . Make good measure.
Master Du Vault-1'amour, I pray you to buye for
me yonder wastcoate that I see in that other shop, for if
I cheapen it, they will over price it me by the halfe, As
for you, they knowe you have better skill in it. Joly pay
for this cloath. Now, are you payed and contented ?
SEMPSTER : Yes Madame, I most humbly thanke you.
Beleeve me you have bestowed your money very well,
and you have good cheap. Will you buye no shirts, ruffes,
Falling bandes, handkerchers, night-coyfes, Falles, sockes,
edged lace, Boote-hosen wrought, Or any other thing that
we have ? All is at your commaundement.
LADY : Not for this time I thanke you, farewell my she
friend.
SEMPSTER : Madame, God have you in his keeping.
LADY : Page goe see if the Coach be ready, Runne quickly.
Coach-man we must alight in Cheapside, at the Mercers
and Gold-smiths.
PIERRE ERONDELL
The French Garden (1605)
607
BUYING WINDS
There be many Witches at this day in Lapland, who sell
winds to Mariners for money.
THOMAS FULLER
The Profane State : The Witch (1642)
BUYING MAIDENS
In every village once in each year it was done as follows : —
When the maidens grew to the age for marriage, they . . .
brought them in a body to one place, and round them stood
a company of men: and the crier caused each one severally
to stand up, and proceeded to sell them, first the most
comely of all, and afterwards . . . the most comely after her.
. . . Now all the wealthy men of the Babylonians who were
ready to marry vied with one another in bidding for the
most beautiful maidens ; those however of the common
sort who were ready to marry did not require a fine form,
but they would accept money together with less comely
maidens.
HERODOTUS
History (5th cent. B.C.)
Trans. G. C. Macaulay
608
THE SINGLE LIFE
BETTER STILL
It is very agreeable to beget children, but, by Hercules,
it's much more agreeable still to be free.
PLAUTUS, Miles Gloriosus (c. 225 B.C.)
How FREE, How HAPPY, How HEAVENLY
" Art thou young ? Then match not yet ; if old, match
not at all." . . . And therefore . . . still make answere to
thy friends that importune thee to marry, adhuc intern-
pestivum, 'tis yet unseasonable, and ever will be.
Consider withall how free, how happy, how secure, how
heavenly, in respect, a single man is, as he said in the
Comoedie ..." that which all my neighbours admire and
applaud me for, account so great an happinesse, I never
had a wife " ; consider how contentedly, quietly, neatly,
plentifully, sweetly, and how merrily he lives ! hee hath no
man to care for but himselfe, none to please, no charge,
none to controll him, is tied to no residence, no cure to
serve, may goe and come, when, whether, live where he
will, his owne master, and doe what he list himselfe. Con-
sider the excellency of Virgins ; Virgo coelum meruit, a
virgin merits heaven, marriage replenished! the earth,
UP 609
but virginity Paradise ; Elias, Eliseus, John Baptist, were
batchelors : Virginity is a pretious Jewel, a faire garland,
a never-fading flowre, for why was Daphne turned to a
green bay-tree, but to shew that virginity is immortall ?
. . . Virginity is a fine picture, as Bonaventure calls it, a
blessed thing in itselfe, and if you will believe a Papist,
meritorious. And although their be some inconveniences,
irksomenesse, solitarinesse, &c. incident to such persons,
quae aegro assideat et curet aegrotum, fomentum paret,
embracing, dalliance, kissing, colling, &c, those furious
motives and wanton pleasures a new-married life most part
enjoyes ; yet they are but toyes in respect, easily to be
endured, if conferred to those frequent encombrances
of marriage. Solitarinesse may be otherwise avoided with
mirth, musick, good company, businesse, imployment ;
... for their good nights, he shall have good dayes. . . .
Thinke of these things, conferre both lives, and consider
last of all these commodious prerogatives a Batchelor hath,
how well he is esteemed, how hartily welcome to all his
friends. . . . But if thou marry once, . . . bethinke thy
selfe what a slavery it is, what a heavy burden thou shalt
undertake, how hard a taske thou art tyed to ... and how
continuate, what squalor attends it, what irksomenesse,
what charges . . . besides a Myriade of cares, miseries, and
troubles.
ROBERT BURTON, Anatomy of Melancholy (Edition 1632)
ROVING ABOUT
SIR ABEL HANDY : Where will you go ? I'll go anywhere
you like — Will you go to Bath, or Brighton, or Peters-
burgh, or Jerusalem, or Seringapatam ? all the same to
610
me — we single fellows — we rove about — nobody cares for
us — we care for nobody.
THOMAS MORTON, Speed the Plough (1800)
CELIBATE
I would be married, but I'de have no Wife,
I would be married to a single Life.
RICHARD CRASHAW, Delights of the Muses (1646)
FREE TO MAKE VISITS
I hope in a few days to be at leisure, and to make visits.
Whither I shall fly is matter of no importance. A man
unconnected is at home everywhere ; unless he may be
said to be at home nowhere.
SAMUEL JOHNSON, Letter to Joseph Simpson (1759)
WEDDINGS IN HEAVEN
Because the blush of modesty, and youth without blemish
were your inclination, because you tasted none of the
pleasures of the marriage bed, behold, the honours of the
virgin are kept for you. With your bright head chapleted
by a glittering crown, and bearing the delightful shade of a
branch of palm, you will eternally celebrate immortal
nuptials ; where song is, and the lyre rages, mingled with
happy dances, and festal orgies are celebrated with the
thyrsus of Sion. JOHN MILTON
Epitaphium Damonis (1639) (Translated)
611
A NATURAL SPINSTER
I am attracted to perpetual spinsterhood not by prejudice,
but rather by natural inclination.
QUEEN ELIZABETH
(To Ambassador of the Duke of Wurtemberg)
SLOTH
A SLOTHFUL MAN
He loves still to have the Sun witnesse of his rising ; and
lies long more for lothnesse to dresse him, then will he
sleepe : and after some streaking and yawning, calles for
dinner, unwashed ; which having digested with a sleepe in
his chaire, he walks forth to the bench in the Market-
place, and looks for companions ; whomsoever he meets,
he stayes with idle questions, and lingring discourse : how
the daies are lengthened, how kindly the weather is, how
false the clocke, how forward the Spring, and ends ever
with What shall we doe ? . . . When all the people are gone
from Church, hee is left sleeping in his seat alone. . . .
When he is warned on a Jurie, hee had rather pay the
mulct than appeare. All but that which Nature will not
permit, he doth by a deputie. ... He had rather freeze
then fetch wood, and chuses rather to steale then worke, to
begge then take paines to steale, and in many things to
612
want then begge. Hee is so loth to leave his neighbors fire,
that he is faine to walke home in the darke and if he be not
lookt to, weares out the night in the chimney-corner.
JOSEPH HALL
Characters of Vertues and Vices (1608)
A SORT OF INDOLENCE
Johnson told me that " Taylor was a very sensible acute
man, and had a strong mind ; that he had great activity in
some respects, and yet such a sort of indolence, that if you
should put a pebble upon his chimney-piece you would
find it there, in the same state, a year afterwards,"
JAMES BOSWELL
Life of Johnson (1791)
THE TRUE STATE OF MAN
Hang work !
I wish that all the year were holiday ; I am sure that
indolence, — indefeasible indolence — is the true state of
man, and business the invention of the old Teazer, whose
interference doomed Adam to an apron and set him a-
hoeing. Pen and ink, and clerks and desks, were the re-
finements of this old torturer some thousand years after,
under pretence of " Commerce allying distant shores,
promoting and diffusing knowledge, good," etc. etc.
CHARLES LAMB
Letter to William Wordsworth (1805)
613
SMOKING
DELIGHTSOME DRUNKENNESS
This herbe is called Nicotiana of the name of an ambas-
sadour which broght the first knowledge of it into this
realme. . . .
The Spaniards call it Tabaco. Some call it the holy
herbe, because (as I thinke) of his holy and marvueilous
effects. . . . Notwithstanding it were better to call it
Nicotiana, after the name of the Lord which first sent it
into France, to the end that we may give him the honour
which he hath deserved of us, for having furnished our
land with so rare and singular an herbe. . . .
The inhabitance of Florida doe feede themselves a
certain space with the fume of this herbe (whatsoever a
certaine new Cosmographer say to the contrary, who
seeketh by his lies to triumph over us in this respect)
which they take at the mouth, by meanes of certaine small
homes.
And the truth hereof we gather from them which have
beene in Florida, and by mariners comming daily from
the Indies, which hanging about their neckes little pipes
or homes made of the leaves of the date tree, or of reedes,
or of rushes, at the endes of which little homes there are
614
put and packt many drie leaves of this plant, writhen to-
gether and broken. They put fire to this end of the pipe,
receiving and drawing in with their breath at their mouth
wide open, so much of this fume as possibly they can,
and affirme thereupon that they finde their hunger and
thirst satisfied, their strength recovered, their spirites
rejoyced, and their braine drencht with a delightsome
drunkennesse.
CHARLES ESTIENNE, La Maison Rustique (1572)
Trans. Richard Surflet (1600)
AGAINST PLAGUE
I have been told that in the last great plague at London
none that kept tobacconist's shops had the plague. It is
certain, that smoaking it was looked upon as a most
excellent preservative. In so much that even children
were obliged to smoak. And I remember, that I heard
formerly Tom Rogers . . . say, that when he was, when
the plague raged, a school-boy at Eaton, all the boys of
that school were obliged to smoak in the school every
morning, and that he was never whipped so much in his
life as he was one morning for not smoaking.
THOMAS HEARNE, Diary (Jan. 21, 1721)
AGAINST EXECUTION
He tooke a pipe of tobacco a little before he went to the
scaffold, which some formall persons were scandalized
615
at/ but I thinke 'twas well and properly donne, to settle his
spirits.
JOHN AUBREY, Brief Lives : Sir Walter Raleigh (c. 1680)
THE MAGIC DRUG
Here could I tell you how upon the seas
Some men have fasted with it fortie daies, . . .
How a dull Cynick by the force of it
Hath got a pleasing gesture and good wit . . .
How many Cowards base and recreant
By one pipes draught were turned valiant,
And after in an artificiall mist
Have overthrowne their foes before they wist :
How one that dreamt of a Tabacco roll
Though sick before, was straight made perfect
whole.
ANON. The Metamorphosis of Tabacco (1602)
A GENTLEMAN-LIKE SMELL
Homer of Moly and Nepenthe sings,
Moly the Gods most soveraigne Hearbe divine,
Nepenthe Heavens drinke most gladnesse brings,
Hearts griefe expels, and doth the wits refine
But this our age another world hath found,
From whence an hearbe of Heavenly power is
brought.
Moly is not so soveraigne for a wound,
Nor hath Nepenthe so great wonders wrought.
616
It is Tobacco, whose sweet substantiall fume
The hellish torment of the teeth doth ease,
By drawing downe, and drying up the rewme,
The Mother and the Nurse of each disease.
It is Tobacco which doth colde expell,
And cleares the obstructions of the Arteries,
And surfets threatning Death digesteth well.
Decocting all the stomackes crudities.
It is Tobacco which hath power to clarifie
The clowdie mists before dim eyes appearing,
It is Tobacco which hath power to rarifie
The thick grose humour which doth stop the
hearing.
The wasting Hectique, and the Quartain Fever,
Which doth of Physique make a mockerie,
The gowt it cures, and helps ill breaths for ever,
Whether the cause in Teeth or stomacke be.
And thoug ill breaths were by it but confounded,
Yet that Medicine it doth Farre excell,
Which by sir Thomas Moore hath bin propounded,
For this is thought a Gentleman-like smell.
SIR JOHN DAVIES, Of Tobbacco (1586)
A LOATHSOME CUSTOM
For Tobacco being a common herbe, which (though under
divers names) growes almost everywhere, was first found
out by some of the barbarous Indians, to be a Preservative
or Antidot against the Pockes, a filthy disease, whereunto
these barbarous people are (as all men know) very much
subject. . . . And now, good Countrey men let us (I pray
you) consider what honour or politic can moove us to imi-
tate the barbarous and beastly manners of the wilde, god-
lesse and slavish Indians, especially in so vile and stinkinge
a custom ? Shall wee that disdaine to imitate the maners
of our neighbour France . . . and that cannot endure the
spirit of the Spaniards . . . shall we, I say, without blush-
ing abase our selves so farre, as to imitate these beastly
Indians, slaves to the Spaniards refuse to the world, and as
yet aliens to the holy Covenant of God ? Why doe we
not as well imitate them in walking naked as they do ? in
preferring glasses, feathers, and such toyes, to golde and
precious stones, as they do ? yea, why do we not dcnie
God and adore the Devill, as they doe ? . . .
Is it not both great vanitie and uncleannessee that at the
table, a place of respect, of cleanlinesse, of modestie, men
should not be ashamed to sit tossing of Tobacco pipes,
and puffing of the smoke of Tobacco one to another, making
the filthy smoke and stinke thereof to exhale athwart the
dishes and infect the aire, when, very often, men that
abhor it are at their repast ? . . . And is it not a great
vanitie, that a man cannot heartily welcome his friend now,
straight they must bee in hand with Tobacco ? . . . He but
that will refuse to take a pipe of Tobacco among his fcl-
lowes, (though by his own election he would rather fccle
the savour of a Sinke) is accounted peevish and no good
company, even as they doe with tippling in the cold
Eastern Countries. . . .
A custome lothsome to the eye, hatefull to the Nose,
harmfull to the braine, dangerous to the Lungs, and in
the blacke stinking fume thereof, neerest resembling the
horrible Stigian smoke of the pit that is bottomlesse.
KING JAMES I
A Counterblaste to Tobacco (1604)
618
HELPFUL THOUGHTS
The Indian weede withered quite,
Greene at noon, cut downe at night ;
Shows thy decay, all flesh is hay :
Thus thinke, then drinke, Tobacco.
The Pipe that is so lilly-white,
Shews thee to be a mortall Wight,
And even such gone with a touch :
Thus thinke, then drinke Tobacco.
And when the Smoake ascends on high,
Thinke thou behold'st the Vanitie
Of worldly stuffe, gone with a puffe ;
Thus thinke, then drinke Tobacco.
And when the Pipe grows foule within,
Think on the Soule defil'd with Sinne,
And then the Fire it doth require :
Thus thinke, then drinke Tobacco.
The Ashes that are left behinde
May serve to put thee still in minde,
That unto Dust returne thou must :
Thus thinke, then drinke Tobacco.
THOMAS JENNER, The Soule's Solace (1631)
A LIBEL
And as one said, but falsely, the bodies of such English-
men as are so much delighted with this plant, did seeme
to degenerate into the nature of the Savages.
WILLIAM CAMDEN, Annales (trans. 1625)
619
GOOD FOR OLD LADIES
AN EXHORTATORY LETTER TO AN OLD LADY
THAT SMOAK'D TOBACCO
Madam,
Tho' the ill-natur'd world censures you for smoaking,
yet I would advise you. Madam, not to part with so inno-
cent a diversion : in the first place, it is healthful, and as
Galen, de usu partium, rightly observes, is a sovereign
remedy for the tooth-ach, the constant persecutor of Old
Ladies. Secondly, tho' it be a heatthenish weed, it is a
great help to Christian meditations ; which is the reason,
I suppose, that recommends it to your parsons ; the
generality of whom can no more write a sermon without
a pipe in their mouth than a Concordance in their hands :
besides, every pipe you break may serve to put you in
mind of Mortality, and shew you upon what slender acci-
dents man's Life depends. I know a Dissenting Minister
who on fast-days used to mortify upon a Rump of Beef,
because it put him, as he said, in mind that all flesh was
grass ; but I'm sure much more is to be learnt from To-
bacco : it may instruct you that riches, beauty, and all the
glories of the World vanish like a Vapour. Thirdly, it is
a pretty play-thing : a pipe is the same to an old woman
that a gallant is to a young one. . . . Fourthly and lastly,
it is fashionable, at least 'tis in a fair way of becoming so ;
cold tea, you know, has been a long while in reputation
at court, and the gill as naturally ushers in the pipe as the
forward-bearer walks before the Lord Mayor.
I am your Ladyship's humble servant.
TOM BROWN
Letter to an Old Lady (c. 1690)
620
TENUES FUGIT CEU FUMUS IN AURA (VIRGIL)
Little Tube of mighty Pow'r,
Charmer of an idle Hour,
Object of my warm Desire,
Lip of wax and eye of fire :
And they snowy taper waist,
With my finger gently brac'd ;
And they pretty swelling crest,
With my little Stoper press'd,
And the sweetest bliss of blisses
Breathing from thy balmy kisses.
Happy thrice and thrice agen,
Happiest he of happy men ;
Who when agen the night returns,
When agen the Paper burns ;
When agen the cricket's gay,
(Little cricket, full of play)
Can afford his tube to feed
With the fragrant Indian weed ;
Pleasure for a nose divine,
Incense of the God of Wine,
Happy thrice, and thrice agen,
Happiest he of happy men.
ISAAC HAWKINS BROWNE, A Pipe of Tobacco (1735)
GOOD FOR EVERY ONE
Tabacco that excellent plant, the use thereof , . . the world
cannot want, is that little shop of Nature, wherein her
621
whole workeman-ship is abridg'd, where you may see
Earth kindled into fire, the fire breath out an exhalation
which entring in at the mouth walkes through the Regions
of a mans brayne, drives out all ill Vapours but itselfe
drawes downe all bad Humours by the mouth, which in
time might breed a Scabbe over the whole body if already
they have not ; a plant of singular use, for on the one
side ; Nature being an Enemie to Vacuitie and emptines,
and on the other, there beeing so many empty braynes
in the World as there are, how shall Natures course be
continued ? How shall these empty braines be filled, but
with ayre, Natures immediate instrument to that pur-
pose ? If with ayre, what so proper as your fume : what
fume so healthfull as your perfume ? what perfume so
soveraigne as Tabacco ? Besides the excellent edge it gives
a mans wit, (as they can best judge that have been present
at a feast of Tabacco where commonly all good Witts are
conforted) what varietie of discourse it bcgctts ? What
sparkes of wit it yeelds, it is a world to heare : as likewise
to the courage of a man. . . . For the diseases of the Court,
they are out of the Element of Garlick to medicine ; to
conclude as there is no enemy to Tabacco but Garlick,
so there is no friend to Garlick but a sheeps head and so
I conclude.
GEORGE CHAPMAN
Monsieur D' Olive (1606)
MOST DIVINE
BOBADILLA : Signior beleeve me ... I have been in the
Indies (where this herbe growes) where neither myselfe,
622
nor a dozen Gentlemen more (of my knowledge) have
received the taste of any other nutriment in the world
for the space of one and twentie weekes, but Tabacco
onely. Therefore it cannot be but 'tis most divine. Further
... it makes an Antidote, that (had you taken the most
deadly poysonous simple in all Florence) it should expell
it, and clarifie you, with as much ease as I speak ... I
professe myselfe no quack-salver ; only thus much : by
Hercules I doe holde it, and will affirme it (before any
Prince in Europe) to be the most soveraigne and pretious
herbe, that ever the earth tendred to the use of man.
COB : By gods deynes : I marie what pleasure or felicitie
they have in taking this rogish Tabacco : it's good for
nothing but to choke a man, and fill him full of smoake
and imbers : there were foure died out of one house last
weeke with taking of it, and two more the bell went for
yester-night, one of them (they say) will ne're scape it, he
voyded a bushell of soote yester-day, upward and downe-
ward. . . . Fid have it present death, man or woman, that
should but deale with a Tabacco pipe ; why, it will stifle
them all in th' end as many as use it ; it's little better than
rats bane.
BEN JONSON
Every Man in his Humor (1601)
WHOLESOME
The Physicall and chirurgicall uses of it are not a few ; and
being teken in a pipe it helpeth aches in any part of the
623
bodie ; being good also for the kidneys by expelling wind.
But beware of cold after it ; neither take it wantonly, nor
immoderately ... for we see that the use is too frequently
turned into an abuse, and the remedie is proved a disease ;
and all through a wanton and immoderate use. For Omne
nimium vertitur in vitium.
To quaff e, roar, swear and drinke Tobacco
Is fit for such as pledge sick healths in hell :
Where wanting wine, and ale, and beer to drink,
Their cups are filled with smoke, fire, fume and stink.
. . . The women of America (as Gerard mentions in his
Herball) do not use to take Tobacco, because they perswade
themselves it is too strong for the constitution of their
bodies : and yet some women of England use it often, as
well as men ... It is said that Sir Francis Drakes mariners
brought the first of this herb into England in the year
1585, which was in the 28 yeare of Q, Elizabeth.
JOHN SWAN
Speculum Mundi (1635)
A CIGAR
Sublime tobacco ! which from East to West
Cheers the Tar's labour or the Turkman's rest ;
Which on the Moslem's ottoman divides
His hours, and rivals opium and his brides ;
Magnificent in Stamboul, but less grand,
Though not less loved, in Wapping and the Strand
Divine in hookahs, glorious in a pipe,
When tipp'd with amber, mellow, rich and ripe ;
624
Like other charmers, wooing the caress,
More dazzlingly when daring in full dress ;
Yet they true lovers more admire by far
Thy naked beauties — give me a cigar !
LORD BYRON, The Island (1823)
PRESERVES FROM VACUITY
" Smoking has gone out. To be sure, it is a shocking thing,
blowing smoke out of our mouths into other people's
mouths, eyes and noses, and having the same thing done
to us. Yet I cannot account why a thing which requires so
little exertion, and yet preserves the mind from total
vacuity, should have gone out. Every man has something
by which he calms himself: beating with his feet, or so."
JAMES BOSWELL, Life of Johmon (1791)
SNACKS BETWEEN MEALS
ROAST PIG
Of the Rev. William Collier, B.D. . . . I have previously
spoken, as having taken an emigrant Countess under his
protection. He had been Tutor of the college [Trinity], and
was for nearly twenty years Professor of Hebrew ; he was
625
an admirable classic, and particularly well versed in modern
languages (at that time a very rare accomplishment in the
University). Collier led a most dissolute life ; he was also
a notorious gourmand. An anecdote I had from his own
mouth will prove his title to the latter character.
" When I was last in town," said he, " I was going to
dine with a friend, and passed through a small court, just
as a lad was hanging up a board on which was this tempt-
ing inscription — " A roast pig this instant set upon the
table ! " The invitation was irresistible — I ordered a
quarter; it was very delicate and very delicious. I despatched
a second and a third portion, but was constrained to leave
one quarter behind, as my dinner hour was approaching,
and my friend was remarkably punctual." (1798)
HENRY GUNNING
Reminiscences of Cambridge (1852)
A LOAF BEFORE DINNER
A very working head, in so much that, walking and medi-
tating before dinner, he would eate-up a penny loafe, not
knowing that he did it.
JOHN AUBREY
Brief Lives : Thomas Fuller (c. 1680)
OYSTERS
From thence I rowed to another port, called by the nat-
urals Piche, and by the Spaniardes Tierra de Brea. In the
626
way betweene both were divers little brooks of fresh
water, and one salt river that had store of oisters upon the
branches of the trees, and were very salt and wel tasted.
Al their oisters grow upon those boughs and spraies, and
not on the ground : the like is commonlie scene in the
West Indies and else where.
SIR WALTER RALEIGH
The Discoverie of Guiana (1596)
SALTS
A dose of salts has the effect of a temporary inebriation,
like light champagne, on me.
LORD BYRON
Diary (Jan. 6, 1821)
GROG
Read Diodorus Siculus — turned over Seneca and some
other books. Wrote some more of the tragedy. Took a glass
of grog. After having ridden hard in rainy weather, and
scribbled, and scribbled again, the spirits (at least mine)
need a little exhilaration, and I don't like laudanum now as
I used to do. So I have mixed a glass of strong waters and
single waters, which I shall now proceed to empty. . . .
The effect of all wines and spirits upon me is, however,
strange. It settles, but it makes me gloomy.
Ibid.
(Jan. 14, 1821)
627
SODA-WATER
I have drank as many as fifteen bottles of soda-water in
one night, after going to bed, and been still thirsty — calcu-
lating, however, some lost from the bursting out and
effervescence and overflowing of the soda-water in drawing
the corks, or striking off the necks of the bottles in mere
thirsty impatience.
Ibid. (Feb. 2, 1821)
SALTS
How do you manage ? I think you told me, at Venice,
that your spirits did not keep up without a little claret. I
can drink, and bear a good deal of wine (as you may recollect
in England) : but it don't exhilarate — it makes me savage
and suspicious. Laudanum has a similar effect ; but I can
take much of it without any effect at all. The thing that
gives me the highest spirits (it seems absurd, but true) is
a dose of salts — I mean in the afternoon, after their effect.
But one can't take them like champagne.
Ibid. Letter to Thomas Moore (1821)
DRAMS
The solicitations of sense are always at hand, and a dram to
a vacant and solitary person is a speedy and seducing relief.
HESTHER PIOZZI
Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson (1786)
628
AT IT ALL DAY
A dew-bite and breakfast, a stay-bite and dinner, a mum-
met and a crummet, and a bite after supper.
ANON. A Centenarian's recipe for long life
WINE EXTRAORDINARY
A good, formall, precise Monister in the Isle of Wight us't
to say that a glasse or two of wine extraordinarie would
make a man praise God with much alacritie.
SIR NICHOLAS L'ESTRANGE
Merry Jests and Conceits (1630-55)
GRUEL
MR. WOODHOUSE : " You must go to bed early, my dear,
and I recommend a little gruel to you before you go. You
and I will have a nice basin of gruel together. My dear
Emma, suppose we all have a little gruel."
Emma could not suppose any such thing, knowing as
she did that both the Mr Knightleys were as unpersuad-
able on that article as herself, and two basins only were
ordered. . . .
The gruel came, and supplied a great deal to be said —
much praise and many comments — undoubting decision of
its wholesomeness for every constitution, and pretty severe
philippics upon the many houses where it was never met
with tolerable. JANE AUSTEN> Emma (1816)
629
OR A OYSTER
" What should you say to a drop o' beer, genTmen ? "
suggested the mottle-faced man. . . .
" And a little bit o' cold beef," said the second coach-
man.
" Or a oyster/' added the third, who was a hoarse
gentleman, supported by very round legs.
" Hear, hear ! " said Pell, " to congratulate Mr. Weller
on his coming into possession of his property : eh ? ha
ha ! "
" Fm quite agreeable, genTmen," answered Mr
Weller. " Sammy, pull the bell." . . .
Where everybody took so active a part, it is almost
invidious to make a distinction : but if one individual
evinced greater prowess than another, it was the coach-
man with the hoarse voice, who took an imperial pint of
vinegar with his oysters, without betraying the least
em0ti°n- CHARLES DICKENS
Pickwick Papers (1836)
TEA
I suppose no person ever enjoyed with more relish the
infusion of that fragrant leaf than Johnson. The quantities
which he drank of it at all hours were so great, that his
nerves must have been uncommonly strong not to have
been extremely relaxed by such an intemperate use of it.
He assured me, that he never felt the least inconvenience
fr°mit- JAMES BOSWELL
Life of Johnson (1791)
630
PEACHES
Though he usually eat seven or eight large peaches of a
morning before breakfast began, and treated them with
proportionate attention after dinner again, yet I have
heard him protest that he never had quite as much as he
wished of wall-fruit, except once in his life, and that was
... at Ombersley, the seat of my Lord Sandys.
HESTHER Piozzi, Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson (1786)
TARTS, CUSTARDS, CHEESECAKES
They [the Presbyterians and Independents] would also
entertaine each other in their chambers with edibles, and
somtimes ... at a cook's house that had a back-way, and
be very merry and frolicsome. Nay, such that had come
from Cambridg and had gotten fellowships would be more
free of entertainment than any, and instead of a cup of
college beare and stir'd machet which use to be the antient
way of entertaining in a College at 3 or 4 in the afternoon,
they would entertaine with tarts, custards, chcescaks,
or any other junkets that were in season ; and that fashion
continued among the generalitie till the restauration.
ANTHONY WOOD, Life and Times (1659)
ROLLS, ALE, AND RHENISH WINE
About every 3 houres his man was to bring him a roll and
a pott of ale to refocillate his wasted spirits. So he studied
631
and dranke, and munched some bread ; and this main-
tained him till night ; and then he made a good supper.
Now he did well not to dine, which breakes of one's
fancy, which will not presently be regained : and 'tis with
invention as a flux — when once it is flowing, it runnes
amaine ; if it is checked, flowes but guttim : and the like
for perspiration — check it, and 'tis spoyled. Goclenius,
professor at in Germany, did better; he kept bottles
of Rhenish wine in his studie, and when his spirits
wasted, dranke a good rummer of it.
JOHN AUBREY
Brief Lives : William Prynne (1680)
SORORAL
AFTER THE PARTY
A girl said to her sister, late, when their friends had gone :
" I wish there were no men on earth, but we alone.
cc The beauty of your body, the beauty of your face —
That now are greedy flames, and clasp more than them-
selves in light,
Pierce awake the drowsing air and boast before the night —
Then should be of less account than a dark reed's grace,
All Summer growing in river mists, unknown —
The beauty of your body, the beauty of my own.
632
" When we two talk together, the words between us pass
Across long fields, across drenched upland fields of grass.
Like words of men who signal with flags in clear weather.
When we two are together, I know before you speak
Your answers, by your head's turn and shadows on your
cheek —
Running of wind on grass, to bring out thoughts together.
" We should live as though all day were the day's first hour,
All light were the first daylight, that whistles from so far,
That still the blood with distance. We should live as
though
All seasons were the earliest Spring, when only birds are
mating,
When the low, crouched bramble remembers still the
snow.
And woods are but half unchained from the Winter's
waiting.
We should be gay together, with pleasures primrose-cool,
Scattered, and quick as Spring's are, by thicket and chill
pool.
cc Oh, to-night," the girl said, " I wish that I could sit
All my life here with you, all my life unlit.
To-morrow I shall love again the Summer's valour,
Heavy heat of noon, and the night's mysteries,
And love, like the sun's touch, that closes up my eyes —
To-morrow : but to-night," she said, as night ran on,
" I wish there was no love on earth but ours alone."
E. j. SCOVELL
A Girl to her Sister (1932)
633
SMELLS
AIR OF EDEN
Now purer aire
Meets his approach, and to the heart inspires
Vernal delight and joy, able to drive
All sadness but despair : now gentle gales
Fanning their odoriferous wings dispense
Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stole
Those balmie spoiles. As when to them who sail
Beyond the Cape of Hope,, and now are past
Mozambic, off at Sea North-East windes blow
Sabean Odours from the spicie shoare
Of Arabie the blest, with such delay
Well pleas'd they slack thir course, and many a
League
Cheard with those odorous sweete the Fiend
Who came thir bane, though with them better
pleas'd
Then Asmodeus with the fishie fume,
That drove him, though enamoured, from the
Spouse.
Of T obits Son.
JOHN MILTON
Paradise Lost, Book IV (1667)
634
AIR OF ITALY
. . . within scent of those fragrant orchards which are on
this coast, full of princely retirements for the sumptuous-
nesse of their buildings, and noblenesse of their planta-
tions, especially those at St Pietro d'Arena ; from whence,
the wind blowing as it did, might perfectly be smelt the
peculiar joys of Italy in the perfumes of orange, citron,
and jassmine flowers, for divers leagues seaward.
JOHN EVELYN, Diary (October 1644)
AIR OF LONDON
Sir, I prepare in this short Discourse an expedient ... to
render not only Your Majesties Palace, but the whole City
likewise, one of the sweetest and most delicious Habita-
tions in the World ; ... by improving those Plantations
which Your Majesty so laudably affects ... as upon every
gentle emission through the Aer, should so perfume the
adjacent places with their breath ; as if, by a certain
charm, or innocent Magick, they were transferred to that
part of Arabia, which is therefore styled the Happy, be-
cause it is amonst the Gums and precious Spices. Those
who take notice of the scent of the Orange-flowers from
the Rivage of Genoa, and St Pietro dell' Arena ; the Bios-
somes of the Rosemary from the Coasts of Spain many
Leagues off at Sea ; or the manifest and odoriferous waft
which flow from Fontenay and Vaurigard, even to Paris, in
the season of Roses, with the contrary Effects of those less
pleasing Smells from other accidents, will easily consent
to what I suggest : And I am able to enumerate a Catalogue
of native Plants, and such as are familiar to our Country
and Clime, whose redolent and agreeable Emissions would
even ravish our senses, as well as perfectly improve and
meliorate the Aer about London. . . . Such as are (for in-
stance amongst many others) the Sweet-brier, all the Peri-
clymenas and Woodbinds ; the Common white and yellow
Jessamine, both the Syringas or Pipe trees ; the Guelder-
rose, the Musk, and all other Roses ', Genista Hispanica :
. . . Bayes, Jumpier . . . Lavender : but above all Rosemary,
the Flowers whereof are credibly reported to give their
scent above thirty Leagues off at Sea, upon the coasts of
Spain ; and at some distance towards the Meadow side,
Vines, yea Hops. . . . For there is a very sweet smelling
Sally, and the blossoms of the Lime-tree are incomparably
fragrant ; in brief, whatever is odoriferous and refreshing.
JOHN EVELYN
Fumifugium : Or the Smoake of London Dissipated (1661)
GARDEN SMELLS
And because the Breath of Flowers is farre Sweeter in
the Aire (where it comes and goes, like the Warbling of
Musick) then in the hand, therfore nothing is more fit
for that delight then to know what be the Flowers and
Plants that doe best perfume the Aire. Roses Damask and
Red are fast Flowers of their Smels ; So that you may
walke by a whole Row of them, and finde Nothing of their
Sweetnesse ; Yea though it be in a Mornings Dew. Bayes
likewise yeeld no Smell as they grow. Rosemary little ;
Nor Sweet-Marjoram. That, which above all Other
yeelds the Sweetest Smell in the Aire, is the Violet . . .
636
Next to that is the Muske-Rose. Then the Strawberry-
Leaves dying, which yeeld a most Excellent Cordiall
Smell. Then the Flower of the Vines ; It is a little dust,
like the dust of a Bent, which growes upon the Cluster,
in the First comming forth. Then Sweet-Briar. Then Wall-
Flowers, which are very Delightfull, to be set under a
Parler, or Lower Chamber Window . . . Then the Flowers
of the Lime-Tree. Then the Hony-suckles, so they be
somewhat a farre off. . . . But those which Perfume the
Aire most delightfully, not passed by as the rest, but being
Troden upon and Crushed, are Three : That is Burnet,
Wilde-Time, and Water-Mints. Therefore, you are to set
whole Allies of them, to have the Pleasure when you walk
or Tread. . . .
FRANCIS BACON, Essays. Of Gardens (1625)
SMELLING ONE'S DINNER
I was saying to a friend . . . that I did not like goose ; one
smells it so while it is roasting, said I. " But you, Madam,"
(replies the Doctor) " have been at all times a fortunate
woman, having always had your hunger so forestalled by
indulgence, that you never experienced the delight of
smelling your dinner beforehand."
HESTHER Piozzi, Anecdotes of Dr Johnson (1786)
SMELLS THAT ALLURE SPIRITS
Good Spirits are delighted and allured by sweet Per-
fumes, as rich Gums, Frankincense, Salt, &c. which was
637
the reason that the Priests of the Gentiles, and also the
Christians, used them in their Temples, and Sacrifices :
and on the contrary, Evil Spirits are pleased and allured
and called up by Suffumigations of Henbane, &c., stink-
ing Smells, &c., which the Witches do use in their Con-
juration. jOHN AUBREY, Miscellanies (1696)
SMELLS THAT INTOXICATE
It is said that other trees have been discovered by them
which yield fruit of such a kind that when they have
assembled together in companies in the same place and
lighted a fire, they sit round in a circle and throw some of
it into the fire, and they smell the fruit which is thrown on,
as it burns, and are intoxicated by the scent as the Hellenes
are with wine, and when more of the fruit is thrown on they
become more intoxicated, until at last they rise up to
dance and begin to sing. This is said to be the manner of
their living. HERODOTUS, History (5th cent. B.C.)
Trans. G. C. Macaulay
MR TATTLE'S SCENT
MRS FORESIGHT : Well, but Miss, what are you so over-
joy'd at ?
Miss : Look you here, Madam, then, what Mr Tattle has
given me — Look you here, Cousin, here's a Snuff-Box ;
nay, there's Snuff in't ; — here, will you have any — Oh
good ! how sweet it is — Mr Tattle is all over sweet, his
638
Perruke is sweet, and his Gloves are sweet — and his
Handkerchief is sweet, pure sweet, sweeter than Roses —
Smell him, Mother ... He gave me this Ring for a Kiss.
TATTLE : O fie Miss, you must not kiss and tell.
Miss : Yes ; I may tell my Mother—And he says he'll
give me something to make me smell so — Oh pray lend
me your Handkerchief — Smell, Cousin ; he says, he'll
give me something that will make my smocks smell this
way — Is it not pure ? — It's better than Lavender mun —
I'm resolv'd I won't let Nurse put any more Lavender
among my Smocks.
WILLIAM CONGREVE, Love for Love (1695)
SOLITUDE
THE HERMIT
Whereas the Hermit leades a sweet retyred life,
From Villages repleate with ragg'd and sweating Clownes,
And from the loathsome ayres of smoky cittied Townes.
When as the Hermet comes out of his homely Cell,
Where from all rude resort he happily doth dwell :
Who in the strength of youth, a man at Armes hath been ;
Or one who of this world the vilenesse having scene
Retyres him from it quite ; and with a constant mind
Mans beastliness so loathes, that flying humane kind,
639
The black and darksome nights, the bright and gladsome
dayes
Indifferent are to him, his hope on God that staies.
Each little Village yeelds his short and homely fare :
To gather wind-falne sticks, his great'st and onely care ;
Which every aged tree still yeeldeth to his fire.
This man, that is alone a King in his desire,
By no proud ignorant Lord is basely over-aw'd . . .
His free and noble thought nere envies at the grace
That often times is given unto a Baud most base,
. . . but absolutely free,
His happy time he spends the works of God to see,
In those so sundry hearbs which there in pleanty growe :
Whose sundry strange effects he onely seeks to knowe.
And in a little Maund, beeing made of Oziars small,
Which serveth him to doe full many a thing withall,
He very choicely sorts his Simples got abroad.
MICHAEL DRAYTON
Poly-Olbion. Song XIII (1613)
LUCULLUS SUPS WITH LUCULLUS
Another time, when he happened to sup alone, and saw
but one table and a very moderate provision, he called the
servant who had the care of these matters, and expressed
his dissatisfaction. The servant said, he thought as nobody
was invited, his master would not want an expensive
supper. " What ! " said he, " didst thou not know that
this evening Lucullus sups with Lucullus ? "
PLUTARCH
Lives (c. 100). Trans. J. and W. Langhorne (1770)
640
FAULTS OF THE SOLITARY
This (says he) is one of the thousand reasons which ought
to restrain a man from drony solitude and useless retire-
ment. Solitude (added he one day) is dangerous to reason,
without being favourable to virtue : . . . those who
resist gaiety, will be likely to fall a sacrifice to appetite ;
. . . Remember (continued he) that the solitary mortal is cer-
tainly luxurious, probably superstitious, and possibly mad.
HESTHER PIOZZI
Anecdotes of Dr Johnson (1786)
NONE TO TROUBLE Us
As for Alcmoeon, he made his abode and residence upon
the muddy banke, which the river Achelous had newly
gathered and cast up, ... to avoid the pursute (as the Poets
say) of the Furies ; but in my conceit rather, because he
would decline the offices of State, civill magistrates,
seditious broiles, and biting calumniations sib to furies in
hel, he chose such a streight and narrow place to inhabit,
where he might leade a life in quietnesse and repose,
secured from all such busie affaires. ... In mine opinion,
there is no reason that a man (unlesse he be very much
besotted and transported with the vaine wind of popularity)
when he is confined and enclosed within an island, should
complaine of fortune . . . but rather praise her. . . . You
may oftentimes there enjoy fully your rest and repose
... for whereas when we are haply playing at dice, or
otherwise keeping close at home, there will be some of
these sycophants or busie priers and envious searchers
into all our actions, ready to draw us out of our houses of
WP 641
pleasure in the suburbs, or out of our delightsome
gardens, to make our appearance judicially in the common
place, or to perform our service and give attendance in the
Court : there will be none such about to saile into the
Island where thou art confined for to trouble thee ; none
will come to thee to demaund or crave any thing, to
borrow monie, to request thy suretie-ship, or thy assist-
ance for to second him in the sute of any office . . . unlesse
peradventure some of thy best friends onely and nearest
kinsfolke, of meere love and affectionate desire to see thee,
saile over for thy sake ; for the rest of thy life besides is
permitted to be as safe as a sanctuarie, not subject to any
spoile, trouble, or molestation.
PLUTARCH
Morals (c. 100)
Trans. Philemon Holland (1603)
PROPHESY IN THE WILDERNESS
Before I left London, I fained an hundred agreeable
Melancholy Pleasures, with which I might Fool away a
Retirement, but now I detest being alone. . . . Of this I
am sure, that God Almighty rather than be alone created
the Devil, and Man rather than be alone chose a Wife.
Whatever advantage I have lost by my Country Life, I
believe I have gain'd the gift of Prophesy in the Wilder-
ness, for I foretold the Poem with which A has
visited us.
WALTER MOYLE
Letter to John Dennis (1695)
642
SPRING
PASSION AND ECSTASY
Time, turning eternally, round, now that the spring grows
warm calls again the young west winds. Earth, renewed,
puts on her brief youth, and already the ground, unbound
from frost, grows sweetly green. Am I wrong, or do my
songs also gain renewed strength, and is genius the reward
of spring ? . . . My breast stirs and burns with secret
passion, and frenzy and holy sounds move me to the
depths. Apollo himself comes, I see his locks twined with
laurel of Peneus, Apollo is coining himself. . . . What high
music does my spirit sound through my open lips ? What
does this madness, this holy inspiration, bring forth ? Of
spring, who has inspired me, I will sing, thus repaying
her her gifts. . . .
Earth, revived, lays aside loathed age, and desires,
Phoebus, to enter thy embrace. She both desires and is
worthy, for what is lovelier than she, as, luxuriantly
all-bearing, she stretches out her breast, and breathes
forth the harvests of Arabia, and from her beautiful mouth
pours the gentle balsam and the roses of Paphos ? . . .
Thus lascivious Earth breathes forth her passion, and
all the mob of creatures run after their mother's example.
643
Now truly Cupid runs roaming over the world. . . . And
now he is striving to conquer the unconquered Diana
herself. . . . Young men shout the marriage song about
marble cities, and the shore and the hollow rocks echo
lo Hymen ! Hymen comes, richly and beautifully adorn-
ed. ... Now the Satyrs too, when twilight rises, fly in a
swift band about the flowery country, and Sylvanus,
chapletted with his own cypress, the god half goat, the
goat half god. The Dryads, who have lain hid beneath
ancient trees, now wander over the lonely fields. Through
the sown fields and thickets Maenalian Pan runs riot . . .
and desirous Faunus preys after some Oread, while the
nymph takes thought for herself on fearful feet, and now
she hides, and hiding, ill-sheltered, would fain be seen ;
she flees, and fleeing, wishes herself caught. . . .
O Phoebus, drive thy swift yoked steeds as slowly as
thou canst, and let not the spring haste by.
JOHN MILTON
Elegia Quinta. In Adventum Veris (1628)
(Translated)
THE MIRTHFUL QUIRES
When Phoebus lifts his head out of the Winteres wave
No sooner doth the Earth her flowerie bosome brave,
At such time as the Yeere brings on the pleasant Spring,
But Hunts-up to the Morne the feathered Sylvans
sing:
And in the lower Grove as on the rising Knole,
Upon the highest spray of every mounting pole,
644
Those Quirristers are pearcht with many a speckled
breast.
Then from her burnisht gate the goodly glittring East
Guilds every lofty top which late the humorous Night
Bespangled had with pearle to please the Mornings sight.
On which the mirthfull Quires with their cleere open
throats
Unto the joyfull Morne so straine their wobling notes
That Hills and Valleys ring, and even the echoing Ayre
Seemes all composed of sounds about them every where.
MICHAEL DRAYTON
Poly OJbion. Song XIII (1613)
THE VERNAL SUN
The Almond flourished!, the Birch trees flowe,
the sad Mezereon Cheerefully doth Blowe.
The flourie sonnes before their fathers seen,
and snayles beginne to Crop the Mandrake green.
The vernall sunne with Crocus gardens fills,
with Hyacinths, Anemones, and Daffodills :
The hazell Catskins now delate and fall,
and Paronychions peep upon each wall.
SIR THOMAS BROWNE (?)
(Date unknown
645
SPRUNKING
A NEW NAME FOR AN ANCIENT THING
This sprunking is a Dutch word, the first as we hear of
that Language that ever came in fashion with Ladies.
Ladies' Dictionary (1694)
FICTITIOUS HAIR
You deceive us with faked hair represented by an oint-
ment, Phoebus, and your bald scalp is covered with
locks painted on it. MARTIAL
Epigrams. Book VI. 57 (c. 84)
IMPROVING THE FACE
Learn, girls, what attentions improve the face, and by what
means your beauty may be kept up. . . . What is cultivated
pleases. . . . Do not trust [for inspiring love] to herbs,
or to mixed juices, nor try the noxious poison of an
enamoured mare. . . .
646
Learn how . . . your faces can shine fair. Strip barley
. . . from its husk. Let an equal quantity of vetch be soaked
in ten eggs : but let the stripped barley weigh two pounds.
When this has been dried by the winds let the slow she-ass
break it on the rough mill-stone : pound up with it the
first horns that fall from a lively stag. . . . Add twelve
narcissus bulbs without their sheaths . . . gums and Tuscan
seed . . . and let nine times as much honey go with it.
Whoever shall apply such a prescription to her face will
shine smoother than her own mirror. Neither hesitate to
parch pale lupin seeds, and with them beans that puff out
the body. . . . Blemishes on the face disappear before a
remedy from the plaintive birds-nest ; they call it Hal-
cyonea. ... It is good to add fennel to fragrant myrrh . . .
as much as one hand can hold of dried roses. . . . On these
pour cream of barley. . . . Placed for a short time on your
soft face, it will leave plenty of colour over all the counten-
ance. I have seen some one pound up poppies wetted with
cold water, and smear them on her tender cheeks. OVID
De Medicamine Faciei Liber (c. 10 B.C.)
SCANDALISING CHRISTIANS
Those women who paint their faces with rouge and their
eyes with purple, whose faces, coated with plaster and
spoilt by too much whiteness, remind us of idols, who, if
by chance they shed a careless tear, show a furrow, . . .
who pile themselves a head out of the hair of others, these
are they who scandalise the eyes of Christians.
ST JEROME
Letter to Marcella (384)
647
A DISHONEST ARTIFICE
As to the use of pigments by women in colouring the face,
in order to have a ruddier or a fairer complexion, this is
a dishonest artifice, by which I am sure that even their
own husbands do not wish to be deceived.
ST AUGUSTINE, Letter to Possideus (c. 400)
THOSE TAWNY WOMEN
It hath towards the south part of the river, great quanti-
ties of ... divers berries, that die a most perfect crimson
and Carnation : And for painting, all France, Italy, or the
east Indies, yeild none such : For the more the skyn is
washed, the fayrer the cullour appeareth, and with which,
even those brown and tawnie women spot themselves, and
cullour their cheekes.
SIR WALTER RALEIGH, Discoverie of Guiana (1596)
PAINFUL BEAUTY
Who hath not heard of her at Paris, which only to get
a fresher hew of a new skin, endured to have her face flead
all over ? There are some who, being sound, and in perfit
health, have had some teeth puld-out, thereby to frame
a daintier or more pleasing voyce, or to set them in better
order ? How many examples of paine or smarte have we
of that kind and sex ? What can they not doe ? What will
they not doe ? What feare they to doe ? So they may but
hope for some amendment of their beautie ?
648
Vellere queis cura est albos a stirpe capillos>
Et faciem dempta pelle referre novam.
Who take great care to root out their gray haire,
And skin flead-off a new face to repaire.
I have scene some swallow gravell, ashes, coales, dust,
tallow, candles and for the-nonce, labour and toyle them-
selves to spoile their stomacke, only to get a pale-bleake
colour. To become slender in wast, and to have a straight
spagnolized body what pinching, what girding, what ting-
ling will they not indure ; Yea sometimes with yron-plates,
with whale-bones, and other such trash, that their very
skin, and quicke flesh is eaten in and consumed to the
bones ; Whereby they sometimes worke their owne death.
MICHEL DE MONTAIGNE
Essays : That the taste of goods or evils doth greatly
depend on the opinion we have of them (1580)
Trans. John Florio (1603)
FACE-DECORATIONS
The Br amines of Agra mark themselves in Forehead, Ears,
and Throat, with a kind of yellow geare which they grind,
and every morning they do it, and so do the women. The
Gentiles of Indostan, men and women both, paint on their
foreheads and other parts of their faces, red and yellow
spots. The Cygnanians are of a horrid aspect, much like
the people called Agathyres> of whom the poet Virgil
speaketh, for they were all painted and spotted with sundry
colours, and especially with black and red ... they paint
themselves from the forehead even unto the knees. . . .
649
A man would think them to be Divels incarnate broke out
of Hell, they are so like hell-hounds. I am sure they violate
and impudently affront Nature. . . . The Virginian women
rase their Faces and whole Bodies with a sharp iron which
makes a stamp in curious knots, and drawes the propor-
tions of Fowls, Fishes, or Beasts ; then with Painting of
sundry lively Colours they rub it into the stamp, which
will never be taken away. . . . The Egyptian-Moores, both
men and women, for love of each other distain their Chins
with knots and flowers of blew, made by the pricking of
the skin with needles, and rubbing it over with ink and the
juice of an herb. . . . The Arabian women . . . paint their
Faces, Breasts, Armes, and Hands, with a certain azured
colour, thinking that they are very handsome after this
manner.
Our English ladies, who seeme to have borrowed many
of their Cosmetical conceits from barbarous Nations, are
seldome known to be contented with a Face of God's
making, for they are either adding, detracting, or altering
continually. Sometimes they thinke they have too much
colour, then they take much Physique to make them look
pale and faire : Now they have too little colour, then
Spanish-Paper, Red-Leather, and other Cosmetical
Rubriques must be had. Yet for all this, it may be the
skins of their Faces do not please them, off they go with
Mercury-water, and so they remain like peeled ewes, until
their Faces have recovered a new Epidermis. Sometimes
they want a Mole to set off their beauty, such as Venus
had, then it is well if one Black-Patch will serve to make
their Faces remarkable, for some fill their Visages full of
them, varied into all manner of shapes and figures, which
is as odious and senseless an affectation as ever was used
by any barbarous Nation in the world. . . . Effeminate
650
Gallants ... of late have begun to vie patches and beauty-
spots, nay painting, with the most tenderest and phantas-
tical Ladies ... to the . . . high dishonour and abasement
of the glory of mans perfection. JOHN BULWER
Anthropometamorphosis : or, The Artificial
Changeling (1650)
EYE-BROWS
In the West Indies, the Cumanans pluck off all the haire
of their Eye-brows, taking great pride and using much
superstition in that unnatural depilation. . . . Of old time,
the women when their Eye-brows were long and broad,
they made them narrow, subtile, and arched either with
Pinsers or Sissers, and when they were yellow or white,
they made them black with Soot, as you may read in
Tertullian, Plautus, Athenaeus, Clemens Alexandinus, and
others. . . . The American women do with a certain Fucus
paint their Ey-browes, which they lay on with a pencil :
A thing also usual with Frenchwomen., who have little
modesty. j^.
EYE-LIDS
The Brasileans . . . pull off and eradicate the Haire growing
on their Eye-lids. The Turks have a black powder . . . which
with a fine pencil they lay under their Eye-lids, which
doth colour them black, whereby the White of the Eye is
set off more white : with the same powder also they colour
the hairs of their Eye-lids.
651
EYES
They of Cape Lopos Gonfalues, both men and women, use
sometimes to make one of their Eyes white, the other red
or yellow.
Ibid.
NOSES
The Tartarian women cut and pare their Noses between
their Eyes, that they may seem more flat and saddle-nosed,
leaving themselves no Nose at all in that place, annointing
the very same place with a black oyntment ; which sight
seemed most ugly in the eyes of Friar William de Rubra-
quinS) a Frenchman, and his companions.
Ibid.
EARS
The Macuasy . . . weare their Eares bored round with
many holes, in which they have pegs of wood, slender
like knitting-needles . . . which make them look like
hedge-hogs ; this is part of their gallantry, for if they are
sad, or crossed with any disaster, they have all these holes
open. In Peru> the greatest Eares are ever esteemed the
fairest, which with all Art and Industry they are contin-
ually stretching out ; and a man . . . sweareth to have been
in a Province of the East Indies, the people so careful to
make them great, and so to load them with heavy Jewels,
that at great ease he could have thrust his arme thorow
one of their Bare-holes.
Ibid.
652
TEETH
The people of Molalia . . . account Red Teeth a great
beautie, and therefore they colour their Teeth Red with
Beetle. . . . The women of ... Orissa in India ... in a
foolish pride black their Teeth, because Dogs teeth
(forsooth) are white. In Cariaian the women use to gild
their teeth.
Ibid.
ARMS, HANDS, AND NAILS
The Persins . . . illustrate their Arms and Hands, their
Legs and Feet, with painted flowers and birds. . . . They
paint their nails party-coloured white and vermelion. The
Turkes paint their long nails red, and our Merchants that
live there conform unto the custome. In the Kingdom of
Goer, they paint their Nails yellow : and the nobler any
one is, so much the longer his Nails : so that he is the best
Gentleman whose Nails appears like Eagles claws.
Ibid.
SUBMARINE TOILET
My Cabinets are Oyster-shells,
In which I keep my Orient-Pearls,
To open them I use the Tide,
As Keys to Locks, which opens wide,
The Oyster-shells, then out I take ;
653
Those, Orient-Pearls and Crowns do make ;
And modest Coral I do wear.
Which blushes when it touches air.
On Silver- Waves I sit and sing,
And then the Fish lie listening :
Then sitting on a Rocky Stone,
I comb my Hair with Fishes bone.
The whil'st Apollo, with his Beams,
Doth dry my Hair from wat'ry streams.
His Light doth glaze the Water's face,
Make the large Sea my Looking- Glass ;
So when I swim on Waters high,
I see my self as I glide by :
But when the Sun begins to burn,
I back into my Waters turn,
And dive unto the bottom low :
Then on my head the Waters flow
In Curled waves and Circles round ;
And thus with Waters am I Crown'd.
MARGARET CAVENDISH, DUCHESS OF NEWCASTLE
The Convent of Pleasure (1668)
TINTING THE NAILS
The nayles are also of a substance tingible and outwardly
colourable, ... as I have seen in the Dominions of the
Turk, where some not only guild the nayles, butt many
colour them of a reddish colour which may bee anywhere
performed by the powder of Alcanna or Cua steeped in
a cloath to lay it upon the nayles some howers, butt this
is no long lasting colour and must be renewed sometimes,
654
and if it were, yett the nayles, growing in length, would at
last carye it off. SIR THOMAS BROWNE
Letter to his son Edward (1679)
A LADY'S REQUIREMENTS
And Spanish paper. Lip and Cheek
With Spittel sweetly to belick :
Nor therefore spare in the next place
The pocket sprunking Looking-glass :
Calembuc combs in pulvil case
To set and trim the hair and face :
And that the cheeks may both agree,
Plumpers to fill the cavity. . . .
The table miroir, one glue pot,
One for Pomatuma, and what not ?
Of washes, unguents, and cosmeticks ;
A pair of silver candlesticks ;
Snuffers and snuff-dish ; boxes more,
For powders, patches, waters store,
In silver flasks, or bottles, cups
Cover'd, or open, to wash chaps. . . .
Of other waters, rich and sweet,
To sprinkle Handkerchief is meet ;
D'ange, orange, mill-fleur, myrtle,
Whole quarts the Chamber to bequirtle. . . .
Thus rigg'd the Vessel, and equipp'd,
She is for all Adventures shipp'd.
JOHN EVELYN (AND HIS DAUGHTER MARY)
Mundus MuliebriS) or the Ladies Dressing-Room
Unlocked (1690)
655
A USE FOR VERSE
But perhaps, with a panting heart, you carry your piece
before a woman of quality. She gives the labours of your
brain to her maid to be cut into shreds for curling her hair.
F. M. A. DE VOLTAIRE
Letter to M. Le Fevrier
PREPARING FOR THE PARTY
And now unveil'd, the Toilet stands display'd,
Each silver Vase in mystic order laid.
First, rob'd in white, the Nymph intent adores,
With head uncover'd, the Cosmetick pow'rs,
A heav'nly Image in the glass appears.
To that she bends, to that her eyes she rears ;
Th' Inferior Priestess, at her altar's side,
Trembling begins the sacred rites of Pride.
Unnumber'd treasures ope at once, and here
The various off'rings of the world appear ;
From each she nicely culls with curious toil
And decks the Goddess with the glitt'ring spoil.
This casket India's glowing gems unlocks,
And all Arabia breathes from yonder box.
The tortoise here and elephant unite,
Transformed to combs, the speckled and the white.
Here files of pins extend their shining rows,
Puffs, Powders, Patches, Bibles, Billets-doux.
Now awful Beauty puts on all its arms ;
The fair each moment rises in her Charms
656
Repairs her smiles, awakens ev'ry grace,
And calls forth all the wonders of her face.
ALEXANDER POPE
The Rape of the Lock (1712)
NATURE'S INCIVILITY OUTDONE
Yet, uncivil as Nature has been, they seem resolved to
outdo her in unkindness ; they use white powder, blue
powder, and black powder, for their hair, and a red
powder for the face on some particular occasion.
They like to have the face of various colours, as among
the Tartars of Koreki, frequently sticking on, with spittle,
little black patches on every part of it, except on the tip
of the nose, which I have never seen with a patch. You'll
have a better idea of their manner of placing these spots,
when I have finished the map of an English face patched
up to the fashion, which shall shortly be sent to increase
your curious collection of paintings, medals, and monsters.
OLIVER GOLDSMITH
Letters from a Citizen of the World to his Friends in
the East (1762)
A FOOLISH QUESTION
Why do they adorn themselves with so many colours of
hearbs, fictitious flowers, curious needleworks, quaint
devices, sweet-smelling odours, with those inestimable
657
riches of pretious stones, pearls, rubies, diamonds,
emeralds, etc ? Why do they crown themselves with gold
and silver, use coronets, and tires of several fashions, deck
themselves with pendants, bracelets, ear-rings, chains,
girdles, rings, pins, spangles, embroyderies, shadows,
rabatoes, versicolor ribbands ? Why do they make such
glorious shews with their scarfs, feathers, fans, masks,
furs, laces, tiffanies, ruffs, falls, calls, cuffs, damasks,
velvets, tinsels, cloth of gold, silver, tissue ? with colours
of heaven, stars, planets ? the strength of metals, stones,
odours, flowers, birds, beasts, fishes, and whatsoever
Afrika, Asia, America, sea, land, art, and industry of
man can afford ? Why do they use and covet such novelty
of invention, such new-fangled tires, and spend such
inestimable summs on them ? To what end are those
crisped, false hairs, painted faces, as the Satyrist
observes. . . . Why are they like so many Sybarites, or
Neroes Poppaea, Assuerus concubines, so costly, so long a
dressing as Caesar were marshalling his army, or an hawk
in pruning ? . . . A Gardiner takes not so much delight and
pains in his garden, an horse man to dress his horse, scour his
armour, a Marriner about his ship, a merchant his shop
and shop-book, as they do about their faces, and all
those other parts : such setting up with corks, streighting
with whale-bones ; why is it but as a day-net catcheth
Larks, to make yong men stoop unto them ?
ROBERT BURTON
Anatomy Of Melancholy (1621. Edition 1632)
658
STREET MUSIC
BARREL ORGAN
Oh ! there is an organ playing in the street — a waltz too I
I must leave off to listen. They are playing a waltz which
I have heard ten thousand times at the balls in London,
between 1812 and 1815. Music is a strange thing.
LORD BYRON, Diary (Feb. 2, 1821)
STREET DANCERS
The sister of St Damian appeared to him after her death,
and said . . . " Once, standing in mine own chamber, I
listened with a certain sweetness to the songs of them
that danced in the streets, for which I did no penance
during my earthly life ; wherefore I must now be punished
for fifteen days in purgatory."
JOANNES HEROLT, Promptuarium (c. 1500)
BALLADS
After he [Bishop Corbet] was D. of Divinity, he sang bal-
lads at the Crosse at Abingdon on a market-day. He and
659
some of his camerades were at the taverne by the crosse. . . .
The ballad singer complaynd, he had no custome, he
could not putt-off his ballades. The jolly Doctor putts-off
his gowne, and putts-on the ballad singer's leathern jacket,
and being a handsome man, and had a rare full voice, he
presently vended a great many, and had a great audience.
JOHN AUBREY, Brief Lives : Richard Corbet (c. 1680)
BEGGING TO THE TABOR
In Herefordshire, and parts of the marshes of Wales, the
Tabor and Pipe were exceedingly common. Many beggars
beg'd with it, and the peasants danced to it in the church-
yard on holydays and holy day-eves. The Tabor is derived
from the Sistrum of the Romans.
Ibid. Remains of Gentilism and Judaism (1687)
SUNDAY
CHURCH OF ENGLAND
The King's Majesty's Declaration to his Subjects Concern-
ing Lawful Sports to be used.
Whereas We did justly in Our Progresse through
Lancashire rebuke some Puritanes and Precise People, . . .
660
in the prohibiting and unlawfull punishing of Our good
people for using their lawfull recreations and honest
exercises upon Sundays and other Holy-days, after the
afternoone Sermon or Service ; We now finde, that two
sortes of people wherewith that countrey is much infested
(WemeanPapzsfc and Puritanes) have maliciously traduc'd
and calumniated those Our just and honourable proceed-
ings. . . . We have therefore thought good hereby to cleer
and make Our Pleasure to be manifested to all Our good
people in those partes. . . .
We heard the generall complaynt of Our people, that
they were barred from all lawfull recreation and exercise
upon the Sundaye's afternoone, after the ending of all
Divine Service. Which cannot but produce two evills. . . .
This prohibition barreth the common and meaner sort of
people from using such exercises as may make their body's
more able for war, when We, or Our Successours shall
have occasion to use them : and in place therof setts up
filthie tipplings and drunkennesse, and breedes a number
of idle and discontented speeches in their ale-houses. For
when shall the common people have leave to exercise, if
not upon the Sundayes and Holy-dayes, seeing they must
apply their labour and win their living in all working-
dayes ? . . .
Our Pleasure is, ... That after the end of Divine Service,
Our good People be not disturbed, letted, or discouraged
from any lawfull recreation, such as Dancing (either men or
women) Archery for men, Leaping, Vaulting, or any other
such harmlesse recreations ; nor from having of May Games,
Whitsun Ales, and Morris Dances, and the setting up of May
Poles, and other sports therwith used : so as the same bee had
in due and convenient time, without impediment or neglect of
Divine Service. And, That women shall have leave to carry
661
Rushes to the Church for the decoring of it, according to
their olde custome.
But whithal, We doe here account stil as prohibited^ all
unlawfull games, to be us9d upon Sunday es onely ; as Beare
and Bull Baitings; Interludes; and at all times, in the
meaner sorte of people by Law prohibited, Bowling.
And likewise. We bar from this benefit and libertie, all
such knowne Recusants, either men or women, as will
abstaine from comming to Church or Divine Service :
beeing therfor unworthy of any lawfull recreation after
the said Service, that wil not first come to the Church
and serve GOD.
Prohibiting in like sorte, the said recreation to any that,
though conforme in Religion, are not present in the Church . . .
Our Pleasure likewise is, That they to whom it belongeth
in Office shall present and sharply punish all such, as in abuse
of this Our liber tie, will use these Exercises before the ends of
all Divine Services for that day.
And We, likewise, straitly commaund, That every
person shall resort to his owne Parish Church to heare
Divine Service ; and each Parish, by it selfe, to use the said
recreation after Divine Service, Prohibiting likewise, Any
offensive weapons to be carryed or us'd in the said times of
recreation.
KING JAMES I
(1618)
DR JOHNSON'S
Dr Johnson enforced the strict observance of Sunday.
" It should be different," (he observed,) " from another
662
day. People may walk, but not throw stones at birds.
There may be relaxation, but there should be no
levity." . . .
" Sunday/' (said he) " was a heavy day to me when I
was a boy. My mother confined me on that day, and
made me read The Whole Duty of Man."
JAMES BOSWELL
Life of Johnson (1791)
I seldom frequent card-tables on Sunday.
SAMUEL JOHNSON
Rambler (1750-52)
LONDONERS'
Sunday, October 20, 169-. Great jangling of Bells all
over the City from eight to nine. Psalms murder'd in
most Parishes at ten. Abundance of Doctrines and Uses in
the Meetings and no Application. Vast consumption of
Roast Beef and Pudding at one. Afternoon sleepy in most
Churches. Score of Handkercheifs stolen in Paul's at
three. Informers busy all day long. Night not so sober as
might be wish'd.
Sunday, Oct. 27. Taylors curs'd for not bringing the fine
Cloathes home at the promis'd Hour. Great Ogling at
Covent-Garden Church and other places, from ten to
twelve. A She-Quaker holds forth in her Stays in Grace-
Church- Street, to the great Cramping of the Spirit.
663
Ministers preach against Sin, but the People still Practice
it, and are like to do so to the end of the Chapter.
Sunday, Nov. 3. Beggars take up their respective Posts in
Lincoln-Inn Fields and other Places, by seven, that they
may be able to praise God in Capon and March beer at
Night. Parish-Clerks liquor their Throats plentifully at
eight, and chaunt out Hopkins most melodiously about
ten. Sextons, Men of great Authority most part of the Day,
whip Dogs out of the Church for being Obstreperous.
Great Thumping and Dusting of the Cushion at Suiter's
Hall, about eleven ; one would almost think the Man was
in Earnest, he lays so Furiously about him. A most Re-
freshing Smell of Garlick at Spitalfields and Soho at
twelve. Country-fellows staring at the two Wooden Men
in St Dunstans from one to two, to see how Notably they
Strike the Quarters. The great Point of Predestination
settled in Russel-Court about three, and the People go
home as Wise as they came thither. A merrie Farce, call'd
the Confusion of Babel, acted at surly Wafs Coffee-House
in the Evening, and lasts from five till ten. Great Squab-
bling, Buzzing, and Prating, from the Baronefs Club,
down to the noisy Footman below. Terrible Swearing in
the Kitchen for the Boys not brining the vile Derby in
time. Beef call'd for at every Table, and Mrs Cook most
highly importun'd for a Carrot.
Sunday, Nov. 17. Surgeons knock'd up by twelve Penny
Customers at seven and hinder'd, as they say, from going
to Church ; but ten to one whether they wou'd have gone
thither, tho' no body had visited 'em. Dumplings far
exceeding those of Norfolk, at the Half-Moon in Cheap-
side, and the Rose by Temple-Bar at eleven. Citizens whet
away their Stomachs, and judiciously censure the Sermon,
664
in most Taverns about twelve ; in the Strength of Roast-
Beef and the Sunday Bottle of Claret, give their Wives a
Comfortable Refreshment on the Couch about two ; beget
Block-heads to continue the City-Breed. A Magistrate
with a Golden Chain about his Neck snores Inordinately
in a Coventicle at three. Tradesmens Wives treat their
Children in the Farthing Pye-Houses at four. Not one
Physitian at Church, except the City-Bard, within the
Bills of Mortality.
TOM BROWN
Comical View of London and Westminster (169-)
THE COUNTRYMAN'S
I am always very well pleased with a Country Sunday ;
and think if keeping holy the Seventh Day were only a
human Institution, it would be the best Method that
could have been thought of for the polishing and civilizing
of Mankind. It is certain the Country-People would soon
degenerate into a kind of Savages and Barbarians, were
there not such frequent Returns of a stated Time, in
which the whole Village meet together with their best
Faces, and in their cleanliest Habits, to converse with one
another upon indifferent subjects, hear their Duties
explained to them, and join together in Adoration of the
Supreme Being. Sunday clears away the Rust of the whole
Week, not only as it refreshes in their Minds the Notions
of Religion, but as it puts both the Sexes upon appear-
ing in their most agreeable Forms, and exerting all
such Qualities as are apt to give them a Figure in the
Eye of the Village. A Country-Fellow distinguishes
665
himself as much in the Church-yard as a Citizen does
upon the Change, the whole Parish-Politicks being
generally discussed in that Place either after Sermon or
before the Bell rings.
JOSEPH ADDISON
Spectator (1711)
THE CLERGYMAN'S
Thou art a day of mirth :
And where the week-dayes trail on ground,
Thy flight is higher, as thy birth.
O, let me take thee at the bound,
Leaping with thee from sev'n to sev'n,
Till that we both, being toss'd from earth,
Flie hand in hand to heav'n !
GEORGE HERBERT
Sunday. From The Temple (1633)
Miss HANNAH MORE'S
Thank my dear Dr S. for his kind and seasonable admoni-
tions on my last Sunday's engagement at Mrs Montagu's.
Conscience had done its office before ; nay, was busy at
the time : and if it did not dash my cup of pleasure to the
ground, infused at least a tincture of wormwood into it.
I did think of the alarming call, " What doest thou here,
Elijah ? " . . .
Perhaps you will say I ought to have thought of it
666
again to-day, when I tell you I have dined abroad ; but
it is a day I reflect on without those uneasy sensations one
has when one is conscious it has been spent in trifling
company. I have been at Mrs Boscawen's. Mrs Montagu,
Mrs Carter, Mrs Chapone, and myself only were admitted.
We spent the time, not as wits, but as reasonable creatures;
better characters, I trow. The conversation was sprightly
but serious. I have not enjoyed an afternoon so much
since I have been in town. There was much sterling sense,
and they are all ladies of high character for piety ; of
which, however, I do not think their visiting on Sundays
any proof : for though their conversation is edifying, the
example is bad.
HANNAH MORE
Letter to her Sister (1775)
MR PEPYS'S
Nov. yd, 1661. (Lord's day.) This day I stirred not out, but
took physique, and it did work very well, and all the day
as I was at leisure I did read in Fuller's Holy Warr, which
I have of late bought, and did try to make a song in praise
of a liberall genius (as I take my own to be) to all studies
and pleasures, but it not proving to my mind I did reject
it and so proceeded not in it. At night my wife and I
had a good supper by ourselves of a pullet hashed, which
pleased me much to see my condition come to allow our-
selves a dish like that, and so at night to bed.
April 14, 1667. (Lord's day.) Up, and to read a little in my
new History of Turkey, and so with my wife to church,
and then home, where is little Michell and my pretty Betty
and also Mercer, and very merry. A good dinner of roast
beef. After dinner I away to take water at the Tower, and
thence to Westminster, where Mrs Martin was not at
home. So to White Hall, and there walked up and down,
and among other things visited Sir G. Carteret, and much
talk with him — From him to St Margaret's Church, and
there spied Martin, and home with her . . . but fell out to
see her expensefullness, having bought Turkey work,
chairs, etc. By and by away home, and there took out my
wife and the two Mercers and two of our maids, Barker
and Jane, and over the water to Jamaica House, where I
never was before, and there the girls did run for wagers
over the bowling-green ; and there with much pleasure
spent little, and so home, and they home, and I to read
with satisfaction in my book of Turkey, and so to bed.
SAMUEL PEPYS
Diary
DEVILISH PASTIMES
PHILOPONUS : The Sabboth daie of some is well observed,
namely, in hearing the blessed worde of God read,
preached, and interpreted ; in private and publique
praiers ; in singing of godly psalmes ; in celebrating the
sacraments ; and in collecting for the poore and indigent,
which are the true uses and endes whereto the Sabbaoth
was ordained. But other some spend the Sabbaoth day
(for the most parte) in frequenting of baudy stage plaies
and enterludes ; in maintayning lordes of misrule (for so
they call a certaine kinde of plaie which they use) in Maie
668
games, church ales, feastes, and wakesses ; in pyping,
dauncying, dicyng, carding, bowlyng, tenisse playing ;
in bear baytyng, cocke fightyng, hawkyng, hunting, and
suche like ; in keeping of fayres and markettes on the
Sabbaoth ; in keepyng of courtes and leetes ; in foote ball
playing, and such other devilish pastymes ; in readyng of
lascivious and wanton bookes, and an infinite number of
suche like practises and prophane exercises used upon that
day, whereby the Lorde God is dishonoured, his Sabaoth
violated, his word neglected, his sacramentes contemned,
and his people mervailously corrupted, and caried away
from true vertue and godlines.
SPUDEUS : You will be deemed too too stoicall, if you should
restraine menne from those exercises uppon the Sab-
baoth, for they suppose that that day was ordained and
consecrate to that ende and purpose, onely to use what
kinde of exercises they thinke good themselves ; and was
it not so ?
PHILIP STUBBES
The Anatomy of Abuses (1583)
A LIVELY SUNDAY
PHILOPONUS : Firste, all the wilde heades of the Parishe,
conventyng together, chuse them a Ground Capitaine
(of mischeef), whom they innoble with the title of my
Lorde of Misserule, and hym they crown with great
solemnitie, and adopt for their kyng. This kyng anoynted,
chuseth for the twentie, fourtie, three score, or a hundred
lustie guttes like to hymself to waite uppon his lordely
majestic, and to guerde his noble persone. Then every
669
one of these his menne he investeth with his liveries of
greene, yellowe, or some other light wanton colour.
And as though that were not (baudie) gaudy enough, I
should saie, they bedecke themselves with scarffes,
ribons, and laces, hanged all over with golden rynges,
precious stones, and other jewelles ; this doen, they tye
about either legge twentie or fourtie belles, with riche
hande-kercheefes, in their handes, and somtymes laied
a crosse over their shoulders and neckes, borrowed for the
moste parte of their pretie mopsies and loovyng bessies,
for bussyng them in the darcke. Thus all thinges sette in
order, then have they their Hobbie horses, Dragons, and
other antiques, together with their baudie pipers and
thunderyng drommers, to strike up the Devilles Daunce
withall ; then marche these heathen companie towardes the
churche and churcheyarde, their pipers pipyng, their
drommers thonderyng, their stumppes dauncyng, their
belles iynglyng, their handkerchefes swyngyng about
their heades like madmen, their Hobbie horses and other
monsters skirmishyng amongest the throng ; and in this
sorte they goe to the churche (though the minister bee
at praier or preachyng), dauncyng and swingyng their
handkercheefes over their heades, in the churche, like
devilles incarnate, with suche a confused noise, that no
man can heare his owne voice. Then the foolishe people
they looke, they stare, they laugh, they fleere, and mount
upon formes and pewes, to see these goodly pageauntes,
solemnized in this sort. Then after this, aboute the
churche they goe againe and againe, and so forthe into
the churche-yarde, where they have commonly their
Sommer halles, their bowers, arbours, and banquetyng
houses set up, wherein they feaste, banquet, and daunce
all that daie, and (perad venture) all that night too. And
670
thus these terrestrial furies spend the Sabbaoth daie ! . . .
SPUDEUS : This is a horrible prophanation of the Sabbaoth
(the Lorde knoweth), and more pestilent then pestilence
it self.
Ibid.
SECRET BOWLS
The Puritan faction did begin to increase in those dayes
and especially at Emmanuel College . . . They preached up
very strict keeping and observing the Lord's day ; made,
upon the matter, damnation to breake it, and that 'twas
lesse sin to kill a man. . . . Yet these hypocrites did bowle
in a private green at their colledge every Sunday after
sermon.
JOHN AUBREY
Brief Lives : Lancelot Andrewes
(c. 1680)
A CHEERFUL SHROPSHIRE VILLAGE
In the Village he liv'd in, not a Sermon was to be heard
from Year to Year. And the Service was run over very
Cursorily and Irreverently ; and when that was done, the
rest of the Lord's Day was profanely spent by the whole
Town in Dancing under a May-Pole, and a great Tree.
EDMUND CALAMY
Abridgement of Mr. Baxter's History of his Life and
Times (1702)
671
FOOD AND REST
That Luxury and Excess men usually practise upon this
Day . . . dividing the time between God and their Bellies,
when, after a gluttonous meal, their senses dozed and
stupefied, they retire to God's- House to sleep out the
Afternoon.
JONATHAN SWIFT
Sermon upon Sleeping in Church
TAKING UMBRAGE
A GOD is OFFENDED
What is that Land, says he, the Waves embrace ?
(And with his Finger pointed at the Place ;)
Is it one parted Isle which stands alone ?
How nam'd ? and yet methinks it seems not one.
To whom the watry God made this Reply ;
'Tis not one Isle, but five ; distinct they lie ;
'Tis Distance which deceives the cheated Eye.
But that Diana's Act may seem less strange,
These once proud Naiads were, before their Change.
'Twas on a Day more solemn than the rest.
Ten Bullocks slain, a sacrificial Feast :
672
The rural Gods of all the Region near
They bid to dance, and taste the hallow'd Cheer.
Me they forgot : Affronted with the Slight,
My Rage, and Stream swell'd to the greatest Height ;
And with the Torrent of my flooding Store,
Large Woods from Woods, and Fields from Fields
I tore.
The guilty Nymphs, Oh ! them rememb'ring me,
I, with their Country, wash'd into the Sea :
And joining Waters with the social Main,
Rent the gross Land, and spit the firm Champagne.
Since, the Echinades, remote from Shore
Are view'd as many Isles, as Nymphs before.
OVID
Metamorphoses (c. 5 B.C.)
Trans. Mr. Vernon (1717 ?)
THRIFT
THE PROVIDENT INDIAN
The Orenoqueponi bury not their wives with them, but
their jewels, hoping to in joy them againe.
SIR WALTER RALEIGH
The Discoverie of Guiana (1596)
XP 673
A CHEAP EVENING
Here I met with Osborne and with Shaw and Spicer, and
we went to the Sun Tavern in expectation of a dinner . . .
at which we were very merry, while in came Mr. Wade
and his friend Capt. Moyse . . . and here we staid till
seven at night. ... I by having but 3d in my pocket made
shift to spend no more, whereas if I had had more I had
spent more as the rest did, so that I see it is an advantage
to a man to carry little in his pocket.
SAMUEL PEPYS
Diary (Feb. 17, 1660)
AFTER CHRISTMAS
This night making an end wholly of Christmas, with a
mind full satisfied with the great pleasures we have had
by being abroad from home, and I do find my mind so apt
to run to its old want of pleasures, that it is high time to
betake myself to my late vows, which I will to-morrow,
God willing, perfect and bind myself to, that so I may, for
a great while, do my duty, as I have well begun, and in-
crease my good name and esteem in the world, and get
money, which sweetens all things, and whereof I have
much need. So home to supper and to bed, blessing God
for his mercy to bring me home, after much pleasure, to
my house and business with health and resolution to
fall hard to work again.
Ibid.
(Twelfth Day, 1663)
674
WASTE OF HONEY
The Athenians might fairly except against the practise of
Democritus to be buried up in honey ; as fearing to
embezzle a great commodity of their Countrey, and the
best of that kinde in Europe.
SIR THOMAS BROWNE
Hydrotaphia (1658)
THE PARSIMONIOUS MAN
When hee returnes from his field, he asks, not without
rage, what became of the loose crust in his cupboard, and
who hath rioted among his leekes ? He never eats good
meals, but on his neighbors trencher. . . . Once in a yeere
perhaps, he gives himselfe leave to feast ; . . . and when his
guests are parted, talkes how much every man devoured,
and how many cups were emptied, and feeds his familie
with the moldie remnants a moneth after. ... In his
short and unquiet sleepes hee dreamcs of theeves, and
runnes to the dore.
JOSEPH HALL
Characters of Vertues and Vices (1608)
675
TRAVEL
To LIE IN DIVERSE INNS
For Peregrination charmes our senses with such unspeak-
able and sweet variety, that some count him unhappy that
never travelled, a kinde of prisoner, and pitty his case that
from his cradle to his old age beholds the same still ;
still, still, the same, the same : insomuch that Rhasis . . .
doth not only commend but enjoyne travell, and such
variety of objects, to a melancholy man, and to lie in
diverse Innes, to bee drawne into sever all companies. . . .
He that should be admitted on a sudden to the sight of
such a Palace as that ofEscuriall in Spaine, or to that which
the Moores built at Granada, Fontainebleau in France, the
Turkes gardens in his Seraglio, wherein all manner of birds
and beasts are kept for pleasure, Wolves, Beares, Lynces,
Tigers, Lyons, Elephants, &c. . . . the Pope's Belvedere in
Rome ... or that Indian King's delightsome garden in
/Elian . . . could not choose . . . but be much recreated
for the time. ... To take a boat in a pleasant evening, and
with musicke to rowe upon the waters, which Plutarch
so much applaudes, /Elian admires upon the river Peneus>
in those Thessalian fields beset with greene Baycs, where
Birds so sweetly sing that passengers, enchanted as it
676
were with their heavenly musicke, . . . forget forthwith all
labours, cares, and griefe : or in a Gundilo through the
grand Canale in Venice^ to see those goodly Palaces, must
needs refresh and give content to a melancholy dull spirit.
ROBERT BURTON
The Anatomy of Melancholy (1621. Edition 1632)
OFF TO THE BERMUDAS
Where the remote Bermudas ride
In th' Oceans bosome unespy'd
From a small Boat, that row'd along,
The listning Winds receiv'd this Song.
" What should we do but sing his Praise
That led us through the watry Maze,
Unto an Isle so long unknown,
And yet far kinder than our own ?
Where he the huge Sea-Monsters wracks,
That lift the Deep upon their Backs.
He lands us on a grassy Stage ;
Safe from the Storms, and Prelat's rage.
He gave us this eternal Spring,
Which here enamells every thing ;
And sends the Fowl's to us in care,
On daily Visits through the Air.
He hangs in shades the Orange bright,
Like golden Lamps in a green Night.
And does in the Pomegranates close,
Jewels more rich than Ormus show's.
677
He makes the Figs our mouths to meet ;
And throws the Melons at our feet.
But Apples plants of such a price.
No Tree could ever bear them twice.
With Cedars, chosen by his hand.
From Lebanon he stores the Land.
And makes the hollow Seas, that roar,
Proclaime the Ambergris on shoar.
He cast (of which we rather boast)
The Gospels Pearl upon our Coast.
And in these Rocks for us did frame
A Temple, where to sound his Name.
O let our Voice his Praise exalt,
Till it arrive at Heavens Vault :
Which thence (perhaps) rebounding, may
Eccho beyond the Mexique Bay"
Thus sang they in the English boat,
An holy and a chearfiil Note,
And all the way, to guide their Chime,
With falling Oars they kept the time.
ANDREW MARVELL
Bermudas (pub : 1681)
SEEING THE CONTINENT
Towards Venice we progrest, and tooke Roterdam in our
waie, that was cleane out of our waie, there we met with
aged learnings chiefe ornament, that abundant and super-
ingenious clarke Erasmus, as also with merrie Sir Thomas
678
Moore our Countriman, who was come purposely over
a little before us, to visite the said grave father Erasmus :
what talke, what conference wee had then, it were here
superfluous to rehearse. . . .
So we left them to prosecute their discontented studies,
and make our next journey to Wittenberg. . . .
To the Emperours court wee came, where our enter-
tainment was every way plentiful, carouses we had in
whole galons in sted of quart pots. Not a health was given
us but contained well neere a hogshead. The customes of
the countrie we were eager to bee instructed in, but
nothing wee coulde learne but this, that ever at the Em-
perours coronation there is an oxe roasted with a stag in
the belly, and that stag in his belly hath a kid, and that kid
is stufte full of birds. Some courtiers to wearie out time,
would tell us further tales of Cornelius Agrippa> and howe
when Sir Thomas Moore our countryman was there, he
shewed him the whole destruction of Troy in a dreame.
How the Lord Cromwell being the kings Embassador
there, in like case in a perspective glasse hee set before
his eyes king Henrie the eight, with all his Lordes on
hunting in his forrest at Windsore. . . .
Though the Emperours court, and the extraordianarie
edifiing com panic of Cornelius Agrippa might have bin
argumentes of waight to have arrested us a little longer
there, yet Italy still stuck as a great moate in my masters
eie, he thought he had travelled no further than Wales,
till he had tooke survey of that countrie which was such
a curious molder of wits.
To cut off blind ambages by the high way side, we made
a long stride and got to Venice in short time.
THOMAS NASHE
The Unfortunate Traveller (1594)
679
DESIRE FOR A CHANGE
Travellers gain Rest, but by coining Home,
Men at Home mope, till that Abroad they come ;
Thus is Love of Variety, Man's curse,
Which us to such a Love of Change does force.
WILLIAM WYCHERLEY
The World UnmasVd (1704)
COACHING AT THE HAGUE
Mr Creed and I went in the fore part of a coach wherein
were two very pretty ladies, very fashionable and with
black patches, who very merrily sang all the way and that
very well, and were very free to kiss the two blades that
were with them. I took out my flageolette and piped.
SAMUEL PEPYS
Diary (May 14, 1660)
WALPOLE IN THE ALPS
We were eight days in coming hither from Lyons ; the
four last in crossing the Alps. Such uncouth rocks, and
such uncomely inhabitants ! My dear West, I hope I shall
never see them again ! At the foot of Mount Cenis we were
obliged to quit our chaise, which was taken all to pieces
and loaded on mules ; and we were carried in low arm-
chairs on poles, swathed in beaver bonnets, beaver gloves,
680
beaver stockings, muffs and bear-skins. When we came to
the top, behold the snows fallen ! and such quantities, and
conducted by such heavy clouds that hung glouting, that
I thought we could have never have waded through them.
The descent is two leagues, but steep and rough as O 's
father's face, over which, you know, the devil walked with
hobnails in his shoes. But the dexterity and nimbleness of
the mountaineers are inconceivable : they run with you
down steeps and frozen precipices, where no man, as men
are now, could possibly walk. We had twelve men and nine
mules to carry us, our servants and baggages, and were
above five hours in this agreeable jaunt !
HORACE WALPOLE
Letter to Richard West from Turin (1739)
COASTING DOWN THE RIVIERA
We lay at Canes, which is a small port on the Mediter-
ranean ; here we agreed with a seaman to carry us to
Genoa, and . . . embarqed on the I2th. . . . We coasted
within two leagues of Antibes, which is the utmost towne
in France. Thence by Nice, a citty in Savoy, built all of
brick, which gives it a very pleasant appearance towards
the sea ...
We sailed by Mentone and Ventimiglia, being the first
citty of the Republiq of Genoa ; supped at Oneglia, where
we anker'd and lay on ashore. The next morning we
coasted in view of the Isle of Corsica, and St Remo, where
the shore is furnished with evergreens, oranges, citrons,
and date-trees . . . The next morning by Diano, Araisso,
famous for the best corall fishing, growing in aboundance
68 1
on the rocks, deep and continually covered by sea. By Al-
bengo and Finale, a very faire and strong towne, belonging
to the King of Spayne, for which reason a monsieur in
our vessell was extreamely afraide, as was the patron of
our barke, for they frequently catch French prizes as they
creepe by these shores to go into Italy ; he therefore ply'd
both sayles and oars, to get under the protection of a
Genoese gaily that pass'd not far before us, in whose
company we sayPd as far as the Cape of Savona, a towne
built at the rise of the Appenines : for all this coast (except
a little of St Remo) is a high and steepe mountainous
grounde, consisting all of rock-marble, without any grasse,
tree, or rivage, formidable to look on ... The rock con-
sist of all sorts of the most precious marbles.
Here, on the I5th, forsaking our gaily, we encountered
a little foule weather, which made us creepe terra, terra,
as they call it ... but our patron, striving to double the
point of Savona, making out into the wind put us into
greate hazard ; for blowing very hard from land betwixt
those horrid gapps of the mountaines, it set so violently,
as rais'd on the suddaine so great a sea that we could not
recover the weather shore for many houres, insomuch
that, what with the water already enter'd, and the confu-
sion of fearful passengers (of which one who was an Irish
bishop, and his brother, a priest, were confessing some as
at the article of death) we were almost abandoned to
despaire, our pilot himselfe giving us up for lost. And
now, as we were weary with pumping and laving out the
water, almost sinking, it plcas'd God on the suddaine to
appease the wind, and with much ado and greate perill
we recovered the shore, which we now kept in view.
JOHN EVELYN
Diary (October 1644)
682
IN ITALY
Jan. 29, 1645. . . . The Via Appia is here a noble pros-
pect ; having before consider'd how it was carried through
vast mountaines of rocks for many miles, by most stupen-
dious labor : here it is infinitely pleasant, beset with
sepulchres and antiquities, full of sweete shrubbs in the
invironing hedges. At Fondi, we had oranges and citrons
for nothing, the trees growing in every corner, charged
with fruite.
We descried Mount Caeculus, famous for the generous
wine it heretofore produc'd, and so rid onward the Appian
Way, beset with myrtils, lentiscus, bayes, pomegranads,
and whole groves of orange-trees, and most delicious
shrubbs, till we came to Formiana, where they shewed us
Cicero's Tomb, standing in an olive grove; for here that
incomparable orator was murther'd. I shall never forget
how exceedingly I was delighted with the sweetnesse of
this passage, the sepulchre mixed with all sorts of ver-
dure ; besides being now come within sight of the noble
citty, Cajeta, which gives a surprizing prospect along the
Tyrrhen Sea, in manner of a theatre. . . .
Feb. 8. Now we enter 'd the haven of the Baiae, where
once stood that famous towne, so called from the com-
panion of Ulysses here buried ; not without greate reason
celebrated for one of the most delicious places that the
sunn shines on, according to that of Horace :
Nullus in Orbe locus Baiis praelucet amoenis.
Though, as to the stately fabrics, there now remaine
little save the ruines, whereof the most entire is that of
Diana's Temple, and another of Venus. Here were those
683
famous pooles of lampreys that would come to hand
when called by name, as Martial tells us. On the sum'ite of
the rock stands a strong castle garrisoned to protect the
shore from Turkish pyrates. ... It was once the
retiring place of Julius Ceasar. . . .
Returning toward the Baiae, we again pass the Elyssian
Fields, so celebrated by the poetes, nor unworthily, for
their situation and verdure, being full of myrtils and
sweete shrubbs, and having a most delightful prospect
toward the Tyrrhen Sea. . . .
Having well satisfied our curiosity among these
antiquities, we retired to our felucca, which rowed us back
againe towards Pozzolo, at the very place of St Paule's
landing. Keeping along the shore, they shewed us a place
where the sea water and sands did exceedingly boyle.
Thence, to the island Nesis, once the fabulous Nymph ;
and thus we leave the Baiae, so renowned for the sweete
retirements of the most opulent and voluptuous Romans.
They certainly were places of uncommon amoenitie, as
their yet tempting site, and other circumstances of natural
curiosities, easily invite me to believe, since there is not
in the world so many stupendious rarities to be met with,
as in the circle of a few miles which environ these blissfull
aboades.
Ibid.
HUSBAND-HUNTING IN THE INDIES
LUCIA : What will this come to ? What can it end in ?
You have persuaded me to leave dear England, and dearer
London^ the place of the World most worth living in, to
684
follow you a Husband-hunting into America : I thought
Husbands grew in these Plantations.
CHARLOTTE : Why, so they do, as thick as Oranges,
ripening one under another. Week after week they drop
into some Woman's mouth : 'Tis but a little patience,
spreading your Apron in expectation, and one of 'em
will fall into your Lap at last.
LUCIA : Ay, so you say indeed.
THOMAS SOUTHERNE
Oroonoko (1696)
A TRAVELLER'S PRIVILEGE
You must allow him the Priviledge of a Travelleur, and he
dos not abuse it, his lyes are as pleasant harmlesse on's as
lyes can bee, and in noe great number considering the
scope hee has for them ; there is one in Dublin now that
ne're saw much further, has tolde mee twice as many
(I dare swear) of Ireland.
DOROTHY OSBORNE
Letter to Sir William Temple (1654)
BIRDS AND FRUIT IN GUIANA
On the banks of these rivers were divers sorts of fruits
good to eate, flowers and trees of that varietie as were
sufficient to make ten volumes of herbals, we releeved our
selves manie times with the fruits of the countrey, and
685
sometimes with foule and fish: we sawe birds of all
colours, some carnation, some crimson, orange tawny,
purple, greene, watched, and of all other sorts both
simple and mixt, as it was unto us a great good passing
of the time to beholde them, besides the reliefe we found
by killing some store of them with our fouling pieces.
SIR WALTER RALEIGH
The Discoverie of Guiana (1596)
A COACH TO ONE'S SELF
The coache was gone before I came . . . But being sett on
my journy I hired a whole Coache to my selfe which cost
me 4£, but it was the best bestowed money . . . that ever I
layd out, for the ayre being cool and fresh, and the coach
to be opened before as well as on the sydes, I quaff' d
off whole coachfulls of fresh ayr, without the pollution or
the interruption of the (?) of any person. This had been
an exceeding pleasant journy had not the remembrance
of the misfortunes of some near relations of mine inter-
mixt my wine with wormwood. But however I have most
firmly concluded againe to my self in this ayry journy two
of the main Theories of my Enchiridium Metaphysicum.
HENRY MORE
Letter to Lady Conway (1671)
686
TAPESTRY ANIMALS
.... The testimonies you give, and which I well recollect,
of the juvenile huntings of the great Prince of Tuscany,
and the slaughter he used to make of game in tapestry. . . .
It was Ferdinand who, on going out of the drawingroom,
always made an effort, or at least motion with his leg,
that indicated a temptation to mount a horse in tapestry
that hung near the door. It may, indeed, be a disorder in
the family, and it may run in the blood to have an itch
after tapestry animals. I am sure I wish I had a rage for
riding and shooting my furniture, by a genealogic dis-
order, instead of the gout. HORACE WALPOLE
Letter to Sir Horace Mann (1770)
TAVERNS
THE THRONE OF FELICITY
I have heard him assert, that a tavern-chair was the throne
of human felicity. — " As soon," said he, " as I enter
the door of a tavern, I experience an oblivion of care, and
687
a freedom from solicitude : when I am seated, I find the
master courteous, and the servants obsequious to my call ;
anxious to know and ready to supply my wants : wine there
exhilarates my spirits, and prompts me to free conversa-
tion and an interchange of discourse ... I dogmatize and
am contradicted, and in this conflict of opinions and
sentiments I find delight."
SIR JOHN HAWKINS
Life of Johnson (1787)
WILLS COFFEE-HOUSE
Would to God I could laugh with you for one hour or two
at all the ridiculous things that have happen'd at Wills
Coffee-House since I left it. 'Tis the merriest place in the
World. Like Africa, every day it produces a Monster.
WALTER MOYLE
Letter to William Congreve (1695)
OVER A POT &c.
Some mens whole delight is to take Tobacco, and drinke
day long in a Taverne or Ale-house, to discourse, sing, all
jest, roare, talk of a Cock and a Bull over a pot &c.
ROBERT BURTON
The Anatomy of Melancholy
(1621. Edition 1632)
688
THE LOVING CUP
At Danby Wisk, in the north riding of Yorkshire, it is the
custom for the parishioners, after receiving the Sacrament,
to goe from church directly to the ale-house, and there
drink together, as a testimony of charity and friendship.
JOHN AUBREY
Remains of Gentilism and Judaism
(1687)
VANITY
HAPPINESS
But what ? A Sot cannot help his Vanity. Agreed : But
then it makes him so much happier than he deserves to be
that he may well be contented to pay for it.
JOHN DENNIS
Letter to Walter Moyle
(pub. 1696)
689
VIRTUE
CHASTITY
ELDER BROTHER :
Vertue could see to do what vertue would
By her own radiant light, though Sun and Moon
Were in the flat Sea sunk. . . .
'Tis chastity, my brother, chastity :
She that has that, is clad in compleat steel,
And like a quiver'd Nymph with Arrows keen
May trace huge Forrests, and unharbour'd Heaths,
Infamous Hills, and sandy perilous wildes, . . .
Som say no evil thing that walks by night
In fog, or fire, by lake, or moorish fen, ....
Hath hurtfull power o're true Virginity. . . .
Hence had the huntress Dian her dred bow
Fair silver-shafted Queen for ever chaste,
Wherewith she tam'd the brindled lioness
And spotted mountain pard, . . .
So dear to Heav'n is Saintly chastity,
That when a soul is found sincerely so,
A thousand liveried Angels lacky her,
Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt.
And in cleer dream, and solemn vision
Tell her of things that no gross ear can hear.
JOHN MILTON, ComUS (1634)
690
SPIRIT :
Mortals that would follow me,
Love vertue, she alone free.
She can teach ye how to clime
Higher then the Spheary chime ;
Or if Vertue feeble were,
Heav'n it self would stoop to her.
Ibid.
UNSELFISHNESS
I only feel persecution bitterly because I bitterly lament
the depravity and mistake of those who persecute.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY
Letter to Lord Byron (1817)
NOT SPEAKING AGAINST PEOPLE
It is a principle with me never to give others to under-
stand any thing against an acquaintance, not only which
I would not give, but which I have not given himself to
understand ; a principle to which this book will have
furnished no exception. It may be judged by this, how
little I have been in the habit of speaking against any
body, and what a nuisance it is to me to do it now.
LEIGH HUNT
Lord Byron and some of his Contemporaries
(1828)
691
A VIRTUOUS MATRON
All nobilitie
(But pride, that schisme of incivilitie)
She had, and it became her ! she was fit
T'have knowne no envy, but by suffring it !
She had a mind as calme, as she was faire ;
Not tost or troubled with light Lady-aire :
But kept an even gate, as some streight tree
Mov'd by the wind, so comely moved she.
And by the awfull manage of her Eye
She swaied all bus'nesse in the Familie.
To one she said, Doe this, he did it ; So
To another, Move : he went ; to a third, Go,
He run, and all did strive with diligence
T'obey, and serve her sweet Commandements.
She was in one, a many parts of life ;
A tender Mother, a discreeter Wife,
A solemne Mistresse, and so good a Friend,
So charitable, to religious end
In all her petite actions, so devote
As her whole life was now become one note
Of Pietie, and private holinesse.
BEN JONSON
Eupheme, or the Faire Fame of that truly-noble Lady,
the Lady Venetia Digby (1633 ?)
RESISTING TEMPTATION
Thence I home ; but Lord ! how it went against my heart
to go away from the very door of the Duke's play-house,
692
and my Lady Castlemayne's coach, and many great
coaches there, to see " The Siege of Rhodes." I was
very near making a forfeit, but I did command myself,
and so home to my office, and there did much business
to my good content, much better than going to a play, and
then home to my wife, who is not well with her cold, and
sat and read a piece of Grand Cyrus in English by her,
and then to my chamber and to supper, and so to bed.
SAMUEL PEPYS
Diary (May 2ist, 1667)
ITS REWARDS
And now his life was a Shining light among his old
friends : now he gave an ocular testimony of the strictness
and regularity of it ;
Nor did he preach onely, but as S. Paul advised his
Corinthians to be followers of him as he was of Christ ;
so he also was an ocular direction to them by a holy and
harmlesse conversation.
Their love to him was expresst many wayes ; for
(besides the faire lodgings that were provided and
furnisht for him) other curtesies were daily accumulated,
so many, and so freely, as though they meant their
gratitude (if possible) should exceed, or at least equall his
merits. In this love-strife of desert and liberality, they
continued for the space of three yeares ; he constantly and
faithfully preaching, they liberally requiting him.
IZAAK WALTON
The Life and Death of Dr. Donne
(1640 and 1670 editions)
693
VISITS
ENTERTAINING JULIUS CAESAR
O, I don't repent my heavy-weight guest ! For it went very
pleasantly. But when he arrived at Philippus's on the
second evening of the Saturnalia, the villa was so full of
soldiers that there was scarcely a dining-room empty for
Cassar himself to sup in : two thousand men, forsooth ! . . .
On the third day of the Saturnalia he stayed with Philippus
till one o'clock, and admitted no one ; doing accounts, I
think, with Balbus. Then he walked on the shore. After
two, the bath. He was annointed, and took his place at the
table. He was taking emetics, so he ate and drank freely and
boldly, and the dinner was not only very splendid and
sumptuous, but
" well cooked,
And seasoned with good talk, indeed, quite gay."
Further, his attendants were entertained very lavishly in
three diningrooms. The freedmen of lower grade and the
slaves lacked nothing. But the upper ranks were enter-
tained most elegantly. In short, we were seen to be men
of the world. But he is not a guest to whom one would
say, " Please come again on your way back." Once is
694
enough. We had no serious conversation, but much
literary. In short, he was pleased and had a good time.
He said he should spend a day at Puteoli and another at
Baiae.
Now you have the tale of my hospitality, or billeting, I
might call it ; troublesome, but not annoying.
CICERO
Letter to Atticus (B.C. 45)
OUT-STAYING WELCOME
Prudent Telemachus began to address them : Suitors of
my mother, you insolent bullies, let us please ourselves now
with feasting. . . . But in the morning let us all go down
and sit in assembly, that I may firmly tell you this, that
you are to go out of this house, and busy yourselves with
other feasts, devouring your own substance, and taking
turns at one another's houses. But if it seems to you more
appropriate to consume without redress the goods of one
man, then waste on ; but I will call upon the eternal gods,
and if Zeus grants that deeds be punished, then you shall
perish in this house unavenged.
HOMER
Odyssey. Book I
A CHARMING TIME
I have passed the most delightful time in the most
beautiful country in the company of Tonantius Ferreolus
695
and Apollinaris, the most charming hosts in the world.
Their estates march together, the houses are not far
apart . . . The hills above the houses are under vines and
olives . . . Every morning began with a flattering rivalry
between the two hosts, as to which of their kitchens should
first smoke for the refreshment of their guest . . . From the
first moment we were hurried from one pleasure to
another. Hardly had we entered the vestibule of either
house, when we saw two opposed pair of partners in the
ball-game. ... In another place one heard the rattle of
dice boxes ... in yet another were books. . . . They were
so arranged that the devotional works were near the
ladies' seats ; where the master sat were those ennobled
by the great style of Roman eloquence. . . . The dinner was
short, but abundant. . . . Amusing and instructive anec-
dotes accompanied our potations ; wit went with the one
sort, and learning with the other. To be brief, we were
entertained with decorum, refinement and good cheer. . . .
The siesta over, we took a short ride to sharpen our jaded
appetites for supper. ... I could tell you of suppers fit
for a king : it is not my sense of shame, but simply want
of space, which sets a limit to my revelations.
BISHOP SIDONIUS APOLLINARIS
Letter to Donidius (461-7)
Trans. T. Hodgkin (1892)
STAYING WITH THE SQUIRE
Why, if any of my friends come to see me, I entertain
them with a good table and a bottle of good champaign ;
and for their diversion I show them some sport. We have
696
allwayes some thing or other in season in the field, either
hunting or shooting, or setting or fishing. We never want
game of one sort or another, and if they are men of books
and talk learnedly, that's out of my way, and I say to
'em, " Come let's go visit the vicar," so away we go to
the parsonage, and the Doctor has a good library, and,
what is better than all his books, keeps a cup of good
liquor, as he calls it, for second-rate drinking.
DANIEL DEFOE
The Compleat Gentleman (1729)
A DISAPPOINTING SUPPER
To sup with thee thou didst me home invite ;
And mad'st a promise that mine appetite
Sho'd meet and tire, on such lautitious meat
The like not Heliogabalus did eat :
And richer Wine wo'dst give to me (thy guest)
Than Roman Sylla powr'd out at his feast.
I came ; ('tis true) and look't for Fowle of price,
The bastard Phenix ; bird of Paradice ;
And for no less than Aromatick Wine
Of Maydens-blush, commixt with Jessamine.
Cleane was the berth, the mantle larded jet ;
Which wanting Lar, and smoke, hung weeping wet ;
At last, i' th' noone of winter, did appeare
A ragd-soust-neats-foot with sick vineger :
And in a burnisht Flagonet stood by
Heere small as Comfort, dead as Charity.
At which amaz'd, and pond'ring on the food,
How cold it was, and how it child my blood,
697
I curst the master ; and I damn'd the souce ;
And swore I'de got the ague of the house.
Well, when to eat thou dost me next desire,
Fie bring a Fever, since thou keep'st no fire.
ROBERT HERRICK
The Invitation (1648)
CALLING ON THE POOR
We went to every house in the place, and found each a scene
of the greatest ignorance and vice. We saw but one Bible in
all the parish, and that was used to prop a flower-pot !
HANNAH MORE
Letter to Mr Wilberforce (1791)
CALLING ON THE RICH
George Hotel, Cheddar.
I was told we should meet with great opposition if I did
not try to propitiate the chief despot of the Village, who is
very rich, and very brutal ; so I ventured into the den of
this monster, in a country as savage as himself, near
Bridgewater. He begged I would not think of bringing any
religion into the country ; it was the worst thing in the
world for the poor, for it made them lazy and useless. In
vain did I represent to him that they would be more
industrious as they were better principled. ... I made
eleven more of these agreeable visits ; and, as I improved
698
in the art of canvassing, had better success. Miss Wilber-
force would have been shocked, had she seen the petty
tyrants whose insolence I stroked and taijied, the ugly
children I fondled, the pointers I stroked and caressed, the
cyder I commended, and the wine I swallowed. . . . Patty,
who is with me, says she has good hopes that the hearts
of some of these rich poor wretches may be touched ;
they are at present as ignorant as the beasts that perish,
intoxicated every day before dinner, and plunged in such
vices as make me begin to think London a virtuous place.
Ibid. (1789)
AT BORELAND
Now and then a visit to Penfillan or some where has afforded
a little variety to my existence. The week before last I
spent with my Uncle George at Boreland ; and such a
week ! There was no amusement within doors, and the
weather precluded the possibility of finding any without.
The only book in the house (Coelebs in Search of a Wife)
was monopolized by a young lady who, I strongly sus-
pect, had come there upon Coelebs's errand ; and the rest
of us had no sort of weapon whatever to combat time with.
For four whole days I had nothing for it but to count the
drops of rain that fell from the ceiling into a basin beneath;
or to make a " burble " of my watchchain, for the satis-
faction of undoing it. Oh Plato, Plato ! what tasks ! At
length in a phrensy of ennui I mounted a brute of a horse
that could do nothing but trot, and rode thirty-two miles
just for diversion. I left the good people at Boreland
wondering, when it would be fair ? they had wondered for
699
four days, and when I came back they were still wonder-
ing. How few people retain their faculties in rainy weather !
JANE WELSH
Letter to Miss Stodart (1822)
A CHRISTMAS VISIT
The preparing and the going abroad in such weather . . .
were evils, were disagreeables at least, which Mr John
Knightley did not by any means like : he anticipated
nothing in the visit that could be at all worth the purchase ;
and the whole of their drive to the vicarage was spent by
him in expressing his discontent.
" A man," said he, " must have a very good opinion of
himself when he asks people to leave their own fire-side,
and encounter such a day as this, for the sake of coming to
see him. He must think himself a most agreeable fellow ;
I could not do such a thing. It is the greatest absurdity —
actually snowing at this moment ! The folly of not allow-
ing people to be comfortable at home — and the folly of
people's not staying comfortably at home when they can !
If we were obliged to go out on such an evening as this,
by any call of duty or business, what a hardship we should
deem it ; — and here are we, probably with rather thinner
clothing than usual, setting forth voluntarily, without
excuse, in defiance of the voice of nature, which tells man,
in every thing given to his view or his feelings, to stay
at home himself, and keep all under shelter that he can ; —
here are we setting forward to spend five dull hours in
another man's house, with nothing to say or to hear that
700
was not heard or said yesterday, and may not be said or
heard again to-morrow. Going in dismal weather, to
return probably in worse ; — four horses and four servants
taken out for nothing but to convey five idle, shivering
creatures into colder rooms and worse company than they
might have had at home." ..." Christmas weather/'
observed Mr Elton. " Quite seasonable : and extremely
fortunate we may think ourselves that it did not begin
yesterday, and prevent this day's party. . . . This is quite
the season, indeed, for friendly meetings. At Christmas
every body invites their friends about them, and people
think little of even the worst weather. I was snowed up at
a friend's house once for a week. Nothing could be
pleasanter. I went only for one night, and could not get
away till that very day se'nnight."
Mr John Knightley looked as if he did not comprehend
the pleasure, but said only, coolly, " I cannot wish to be
snowed up a week at Randalls."
JANE AUSTEN
Emma (1816)
FROM AN ANGEL
Haste hither Evey and worth thy sight behold
Eastward among those Trees, what glorious shape
Comes this way moving ; seems another Morn
Ris'n on mid-noon ; som great behest from Heav'n
To us perhaps he brings, and will voutsafe
This day to be our Guest. But goe with speed,
And what thy stores contain, bring forth and poure
Abundance, fit to honour and receive
701
Our Heav'nly stranger ; . . .
To whom thus Eve. Adam, earths hallo wd mould,
Of God inspir'd, small store will serve, where store.
All seasons, ripe for use hangs on the stalk ; . . .
So saying, with dispatchful looks in haste
She {urns, on hospitable thoughts intent
What choice to chuse for delicacie best.
What order, so contriv'd as not to mix
Tastes, not well joynd, inelegant, but bring
Taste after taste upheld with kindliest change.
Bestirs her then, and from each tender stalk
Whatever Earth all-bearing Mother yeilds
In India East or West, or middle shoare
In Pontus or the Punic Coast, or where
Alcinous reign'd, fruit of all kindes, in coate,
Rough, or smooth rin'd, or bearded husk, or shell
She gathers, Tribute large, and on the board
Heaps with unsparing hand ; for drink the Grape
She crushes, inoffensive moust, and meathes
From many a berrie, and from sweet kernels prest
She tempers dulcet creams, nor these to hold
Wants her fit vessels pure, then strews the ground
With Rose and Odours from the shrub unfum'd.
Mean while our Primitive great Sire, to meet
His god-like Guest, walks forth, without more train
Accompani'd then with his own compleat
Perfections in himself was all his state.
JOHN MILTON
Paradise Lost, Book V (1667)
702
WEALTH
EXCESS
He left a vast estate to his son. Sir Francis (I thinke ten
thousand pounds per annum) ; he lived like a hog, but his
son John was a great waster, and dyed in his father's time.
He was the greatest howse-keeper in England ; would
have at Littlecote 4 or 5 or more lords at a time. His wife
(Harvey) was worth to him, I thinke, 60000 li., and she
was as vaine as he, and she sayd that she had brought such
an estate, and she scorned but she would live as high as
he did ; and in her husband's absence would have all the
women of the countrey thither, and feast them, and make
them drunke, as she would be herselfe. They both dyed
by excesse ; and by luxury and cosonage by their servants,
when he dyed, there was, I thinke, a hundred thousand
pound debt.
Old Sir Francis, he lived like a hog, at Hownstret in
Somerset. ... I remember this epitaph was made on
Mr John Popham :
Here lies he who not long since
Kept a table like a prince,
Till Death came, and tooke away.
Then ask't the old man, What's to pay ?
JOHN AUBREY, Brief Lives : Sir John Popham (c. 1680)
703
IMMODERATE PLEASURES
He ranges beyond his pale, and lives without compasse.
His expense is measured not by abilitie, but will. His
pleasures are immoderate, and not honest. . . . The vulgar
sort call him bountiful, and applaud him while he spends.
. . . While he is present, none of the wealthier guests
may pay ought to the shot, without much vehemencie,
without danger of unkindnesse. Use hath made it un-
pleasant to him, not to spend. . . . When he looks into
the wealthie chest of his father, his conceit suggests, that
it cannot be emptied ; and while hee takes out some deale
every day, hee perceives not any diminution ; and when
the heape is sensibly abated, yet still flatters himselfe with
enough. ... He doth not so much bestow benefits as
scatter them. . . . Hee hath so dilated himselfe with the
beamses of prosperitie, that he lies open to all dangers.
JOSEPH HALL
Characters of Vertues and Vices (1608)
ALL I SAW
The Streets seem'd paved with golden Stones, .
Rich Diamonds, and Pearl, and Gold
Alight evry where be seen ;
Rare Colors, yellow, blew, red, white, and green
Mine Eys on every side behold :
All that I saw, a Wonder did appear,
Amazement was my Bliss :
That and my Wealth met evry where.
No Joy to this I
704
For Property its self was mine,
And Hedges, Ornaments :
Walls, Houses, Coffers, and their rich Contents,
To make me Rich combine.
Cloaths, costly Jewels, Laces, I esteem'd
My Wealth by others worn,
For me they all to wear them seem'd,
When I was born. THOMAS TRAHERNE
Wonder : Poems of Felicity (? 1656-66)
KING SOLOMON
And the Kyng made sylver and goulde at Jerusalem as
plenteous as stones and Cedar trees as plenty as the mul-
berry trees that growe in valeyes. Chronicles ii
Trans, by William Tyndale. Matthew's Bible (1537)
BARABAS
Enter Barabas in his Counting-House, with heapes of gold
before him
JEW :
. . . Fye ; what a trouble 'tis to count this trash.
Well fare the Arabians, who so richly pay
The things they traffique for with wedge of gold,
Whereof a man may easily in a day
Tell that which may maintaine him all his life. . . .
Give me the Merchants of the Indian Mynes,
YP 705
That trade in mettall of the purest mould ;
The wealthy Moore., that in the Easterne rockes
Without controule can picke his riches up.
And in his house heape pearle like pibble-stones ;
Receive them free, and sell them by the weight,
Bags of fiery Opals,, Saphires, Amatists,
Jaunts, hard Topas, grasse-greene Emeraulds,
Beauteous Rubyes, sparkling Diamonds. . . .
This is the ware wherein consists my wealth :
And thus me thinkes should men of judgement frame
Their meanes of traffique from the vulgar trade,
And as their wealth increaseth, so inclose
Infinite riches in a little roome. . . .
But who comes heare ? How now.
Enter a Merchant
MERCH. :
Barabas, thy ships are safe,
Riding in Malta Rhode : And all the Merchants
With other Merchandize are safe arriv'd. . . .
Enter a second Merchant
2 MERCH. :
Thine Argosie from Alexandria,
Know Barabas, doth ride in Malta Rhode,
Laden with riches, and exceeding store
Of Persian silkes, of gold, and Orient Perle. . . .
JEW :
Well, goe
Thus trowles our fortune in by land and sea
And thus are wee on every side inrich'd :
CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE
The Jew of Malta (1590)
706
ENCOURAGING TRADE
HANDY JUN. : I suppose she has found out the use of
money.
SIR ABEL : Yes ; I'll do her the justice to say she encour-
ages trade. — Why, do you know, Bob, my best coal-pit
won't find her in white muslins — round her neck hangs a
hundred acres at least ; my noblest oaks have made wigs
for her ; my fat oxen have dwindled into Dutch pugs and
white mice ; my India bonds are transmitted into shawls
and otto of roses ; and a magnificent mansion has shrunk
into a diamond snuff-box.
THOMAS MORTON
Speed the Plough (1800)
GALLIES, VIRGINS, AND NEGROES
CALAPINE :
Amongst so many crownes of burnisht gold,
Choose which thou wilt, all are at thy command,
A thousand Gallies mann'd with Christian slaves
I freely give thee, which shall cut the straights,
And bring Armados from the coasts of Spaine,
Fraughted with golde of rich America :
The Grecian virgins shall attend on thee,
Skilful in musicke and in amorous laies :
As faire as was Pygmalions Ivory gyrle,
Or lovely lo metamorposed.
With naked Negros shall thy coach be drawen,
And as thou rid'st in triumph through the streets,
The pavement underneath they chariot wheels
707
With Turky Carpets shall be covered :
And cloath of Arras hung about the walles,
Fit objects for thy princely eie to pierce.
A hundred Bassoes cloath'd in crimson silk
Shall ride before thee on Barbarian Steeds :
And when thou goest, a golden Canapie
Enchac'd with pretious stones, . . .
And more than this, for all I cannot tell.
CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE
Tambiirlaine the Create (1588)
EMPEROR OF GUIANA
I thought good to insert part of the 120 chapter of Lopez
in his generall historic of the Indies, wherein he describeth
the court and magnificence of Guaynacapa, auncestor to the
Emperour of Guiana, whose very words are these. . . .
That is, All the vessels of his home, table, and kitchin were
of gold and silver, and the meanest of silver and copper for
strength and hardnes of the mettal. He had in his ward-
roppe hollow statues of gold which seemed giants, and the
figures in proportion and bignes of all the beastes, birdes,
trees, and hearbes, that the earth bringeth forth : and of
all the fishes that the sea or waters of his kingdome
breedeth. Hee had also ropes, budgets, chestes and troughs
of golde and silver, heapes of billets of golde that seemed
woode, marked out to burne. Finally there was nothing in
his countrey, whereof hee had not the counterfeat in gold :
Yea, and they say, The Ingas had a garden of pleasure in
an iland neere Puna, where they went to recreate them-
selves, when they would take the ayre of the sea, which
708
had all kind of garden hearbes, flowers and trees of Gold
and Silver, an invention and magnificence, til then never
scene : Besides all this, he had an infinite quantitie of
silver and gold unwrought in Cuzco.
SIR WALTER RALEIGH
The Discoverie of Guiana (1596)
OBVIOUS
Riches are for Spending. FRANCIS BACON
Essayes : Of Expence (1597)
MAMMON
Moralists and Church Fathers have named it the root of all
Evil, the begetter of hate and bloodshed, the sure cause of
the soul's damnation. It has been called " trash," " muck,"
" dunghill excrement," by grave authors. The love of it
is denounced in all Sacred Writings ; we find it repre-
hended on Chaldean bricks, and in the earliest papyri.
Buddha, Confucius, Christ, set their faces against it; and
they have been followed in more modern times by
beneficed Clergymen, Sunday School Teachers, and the
leaders of the Higher Thought. But have the condemna-
tions of all the ages done anything to tarnish that bright
lustre ? Men dig for it ever deeper into the earth's intes-
tines, travel in search of it farther and farther to arctic
and unpleasant regions.
In spite of all my moral reading, I must confess that I
like to have some of this gaudy substance in my pocket.
709
Its presence cheers and comforts me, diffuses a genial
warmth through my body. My eyes rejoice in the shine of
it ; its clinquant sound is music in my ears. Since I then
am in his paid service, and reject none of the doles of his
bounty, I too dwell in the House of Mammon. I bow
before the Idol and taste the unhallowed ecstasy.
How many Altars have been overthrown, and how many
Theologies and heavenly Dreams have had their bottoms
knocked out of them, while He has sat there, a great God,
golden and adorned, and secure on his unmoved throne ?
LOGAN PEARSALL SMITH
Trivia (1918)
GETTING AND SPENDING
He left an estate of eleaven thousand pounds per annum.
Sir John Danvers, who knew him, told me that when one
told him his sonnes would spend the state faster then he
gott it, he replyed, " they cannot take more delight in
spending of it then I did in the getting of it."
JOHN AUBREY
Brief Lives : Sir Edward Coke (c. 1680)
TWIRING AND LOLLING
PHILLIS : Alas ! Alas ! it is a sad thing to walk. Oh For-
tune ! Fortune !
TOM : What ! a sad thing to walk ? Why, Madam PhilUs,
do you wish yourself lame ?
710
PHILLIS : No, Mr Tom, but I wish I were generally
carry'd on a Coach or Chair, and of a Fortune neither to
stand nor go, but to totter, or slide, to be short-sighted,
or stare, to fleer in the Face, to look distant, to observe, to
overlook, yet all become me, and if I was rich, I could
twire and loll as well as the best of them. Oh Tom ! Tom I
is it not a pity, that you shou'd be so great a Coxcomb, and
I so great a Coquet, and yet be such poor Devils as we are ?
RICHARD STEELE, The Conscious Lovers (1722)
FAIR, FINE AND PERFECT
If she be rich, then she is fair, fine, absolute and perfect,
then they burn like fire, they love her dearly, like pig and
pye, and are ready to hang themselves if they may not
have her. ROBERT BURTON
The Anatomy of Melancholy (1621. Edition 1632)
HAVING THE STUFF
THOMAS : But has she got the stuff, Mr. Fag ? Is she rich,
hey ?
FAG : Rich ! — Why, I believe she owns half the stocks !
Zounds ! Thomas, she could pay the national debt as
easily as I could my washerwoman ! She has a lap-dog
that eats out of gold, — she feeds her parrot with small
pearls, — and all her thread-papers are made of bank-notes !
RICHARD SHERIDAN, The Rivals (1775)
711
How PLEASANT IT Is
As I sat in the cafe" I said to myself,
They may talk as they please about what they call pelf,
They may sneer as they like about eating and drinking.
But help it I cannot, I cannot help thinking
How pleasant it is to have money, heigh ho !
How pleasant it is to have money !
ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH
Poems (1849)
WEDDINGS
SIR CLIPESBY AND LADY CREW
3-
See where she conies ; and smell how all the street
Breathes Vine-yards and Pomgranats : O how sweet
As a fir'd Altar, is each stone,
Perspiring pounded Cynamon.
The Phenix nest,
Built up of odours, burneth in her breast.
Who therein wo'd not consume
His soule to Ash-heaps in that rich perfume ?
Bestroaking Fate the while
He burnes to Embers on the Pile.
712
4-
Himeriy O Himen ! Tread the sacred ground ;
Shew thy white feet, and head with Marjoram crown'd
5-
Glide by the banks of Virgins then, and passe
The Shewers of Roses, lucky foure-leav'd grasse :
The while the cloud of younglings sing,*
And drown yee with a flowrie Spring :
While some repeat
Your praise, and bless you, sprinkling you with Wheat
While that others doe divine ;
Blest is the Bride, on whom the Sun doth shine !
And thousands gladly wish
You multiply, as doth a Fish.
7-
And now y'are enter'd : see the Codled Cook
Runs from his Torrid Zone-) to prie, and look,
And blesse his dainty Mistresse : see,
The Aged point out, This is she,
Who now must sway
The House (Love shield her) with her Yea and Nay :
And the smirk Butier thinks it
Sin, in's Nap'rie, not to express his wit ;
Each striving to devise
Some gin, wherewith to catch your eyes.
8.
To bed, to bed, kind Turtles, now, and write
This the short'st day, and this the longest night ;
But yet too short for you : 'tis we,
Who count this night as long as three,
Lying alone,
713
Telling the Clock strike Ten, Eleven, Twelve, One.
Quickly, quickly, then prepare ;
And let the Young-Men and the Bride-maids share
Your garters ; and their joynts
Encircle with the Bride-grooms Points. . . .
ii.
And to enchant yee more, see every where
About the Roofe, a Syren in a Sphere ;
(As we think) singing to the dinne
Of many a warbling Cherubim : . . .
16.
All now is husht in silence ; Midwife-moone
With all her Owl-ey'd issue begs a boon
Which you must grant ; that's entrance ; with
Which extract, all we can call pith
And quintisccncc
Of Planetary bodies ; so commence
All faire Constellations
Looking upon yee. That two Nations
Springing from two such Fires,
May blaze the vertuc of their Sires.
ROBERT HERRICK
A Nuptiall Song., or Epitlialamie, on Sir Clipscby Crew
and his Lady (1648)
LORD AND LADY HAYES
Now hath Flora rob'd her bowers
To befrend this place with flowers ;
Strowe aboute, strowc aboutc,
The Skye rayn'd never kindlyer Showers.
Flowers with Bridalls well agree.
Fresh as Brides and Bridgromes be.
Strowe aboute, strowe aboute,
And mixe them with fit melodic.
Earth hath no Princelier flowers
Then Roses white, and Roses red.
But they must still be mingled.
And as a Rose new pluckt from Venus thorne
So doth a Bride a Bride groomes bed adorne.
Divers divers Flowers affect
For some private deare respect,
Strowe about, strow about,
Let every one his owne protect.
But hees none of Floras friend,
That will not the Rose commend.
Strow about, strow about,
Let Princes princely flowers defend.
Roses, the Gardens pride,
Are flowers for love and flowers for Kinges,
In courts desir'd, and Weddings.
And as a Rose in Venus bosome worne,
So doth a Bridegroome his Brides bed adorne.
Who is the happier of the two,
A maide or wife ?
Which is more to be desired
Peace or strife ?
What strife can be where two are one,
Or that delight to pine alone ?
None such true freindes, none so sweet life,
As what betweene the man and wife.
A maide is free, a wife is tyed.
No maide but faine would be a Bride.
715
Why live so many single then ?
Tis not, I hope, for want of men ?
The bow and arrow both may fit.
And yet tis hard the marke the hit.
He levels faire that by his side
Laies at night his lovely Bride.
Sing lo : Hymen, lo : lo : Hymen.
THOMAS CAMPION
Maske . . . in honour of the Lord Hayes, and his
Bride (1607)
SIR THOMAS AND LADY SOUTHWELL
VI
Behold ! how Hymens Taper-light
Shews you how much is spent of night.
See, see the Bride-grooms Torch
Half wasted in the porch.
And now those Tapers five,
That shew the womb shall thrive :
Their silv'rie flames advance,
To tell all prosperous chance
Still shall crown the happy life
Of the good man and the wife.
XII
Virgins, weep not ; 'twill come, when,
As she, so you'l be ripe for men.
Then grieve her not, with saying
She must no more a Maying :
Or by Rose-buds devine
Who'l be her Valentine.
Nor name those wanton reaks
Y'ave had at Early-breaks.
But now kisse her, and thus say.
Take time Lady while ye may.
XVI
On your minutes, hours, dayes, months, years,
Drop the fat blessing of the sphears.
That good, which Heav'n can give
To make you bravely live,
Fall, like a spangling dew
By day and night on you.
May Fortunes Lilly-Hand
Open at your command ;
With all luckie Birds to side
With the Bride-groom, and the Bride.
XVII
Let bounteous Fate your spindles full
Fill, and winde up with whitest wooll.
Let them not cut the thred
Of life, until ye bid.
May Death yet come at last ;
And not with desp'rate haste
But when ye both can say,
Come, Let us now away.
Be ye to the barn then born,
Two, like two ripe shocks of corn.
ROBERT HERRICK
An Epithalamie to Sir Thomas Southwell and his
Ladie. Hesperides (1648)
717
THE TRAPPER AND THE RED GIRL
I saw the marriage of the trapper in the open air in the
far west, the bride was a red girl,
Her father and his friends sat near cross-legged and
dumbly smoking, they had moccasins to their feet
and large thick blankets hanging from their shoulders,
On a bank lounged the trapper, he was drest mostly in
skins, his luxuriant beard and curls protected his
neck, he held his bride by the hand,
She had long eyelashes, her head was bare, her coarse
straight locks descended upon her voluptuous limbs
and reach 'd to her feet.
WALT WHITMAN
Song of Myself
WOODS
PLEASURE AND PASTIME
But the chiefe pleasure and pastime which commeth by
wilde woods, is, that being joyned to your house and
champion habitation, (which is the place, where it must
be seated or planted) it is pleasant to the sight : for by his
diversity of greenenesse, it marvellously delighteth, and
with great contentment recreateth the sight.
The second pleasure or pastime is, that the woods
(beeing neere unto your lodging) are alwaies full of all
sorts of pretie birds, which sing sommer and winter all
the day long, and the most part of the night, as night-
ingales and such other like, whereby their songs become
joifull and delightsome to the eare, and so there is a
pleasure and great contentment to the eare even to them
in the house if it be neere unto.
Another pleasure is, that in the said woods there are
alwaies great store of wood coists, popingjaies, stares,
cranes and other sorts of birds, which make you pastime
to see them flie : and there may also pleasure be reaped
in taking of them with little engines, as, with a call, nets,
the tonnell, or other such like.
The fourth is, that in the woods are to be had conies,
hares, squirrels, and other sorts of small beasts pleasant
to behold, and of great service for provision of vittaile.
The fifthe is, that in hot seasons you may purchase a
coole aire within the said woods, as those which will
cover and defend you from the injurie and vexation of the
sunne, and contrariwise cooling you whether the heate
will or no : and therein you have also to behold a com-
fortable greenenesse, both upon the boughes and ground,
which keepeth his grasse greene through the coolenesse
and shadow of the trees.
The sixth, is, that in winter being in the said woods,
you are out of the injurie and force of the winds and great
cold, because they breake them off : and further in these
woods you are solitaire, and may use your leasure, in
reading, writing or meditating upon your affaires, without
being disquieted or distracted, or drawne to cast your
719
sight abroad over any far distant place or countrie, in
as much as the sight cannot pearse through the boughes
or bushes.
CHARLES ESTIENNE
La Maison Rustique (1572)
Trans. Richard Surflet (1600)
PROFIT AND DELIGHT
But inward round, in rowes there stand
As well for profit, as delight.
The Trees of Orchard, and the Wood. . . .
HENRY PEACHAM
Minerva Brit t anna (1612)
XENOPHILISM
THE FRENCH AIR
PHILOTIS : Count Rhodophil's a fine gentleman indeed,
madam ; and, I think, deserves your affection.
MELANTHA : Let me die but he's a fine man ; he sings and
dances en Franfais, and writes the billets-doux to a miracle.
PHIL. : And those are no small talents, to a lady that
720
understands and values the French air, as your Ladyship
does.
MEL. : How charming is the French air, and what an
etourdi bete is one of our untra veiled islanders I'When he
would make his court to me, let me die but he is just
ALsop's ass, that would imitate the courtly French in his
addresses ; but, instead of those, comes pawing upon me,
and doing all things so maladroitly. . . .
Enter Palamede.
PAL. : . . . I want many things, madam, to render me
accomplished ; and the first and greatest of them is your
favour.
MEL. : Let me die, Philotis, but this is extremely French.
... A gentleman, sir, that understands the grand monde
so well, who has haunted the best conversations, and who,
in short, has voyaged, may pretend to the good graces of
a lady.
PAL. : (aside) Hey-day ! Grand monde ! Conversation !
voyaged ! and good graces ! I find my mistress is one of
those that run mad in new French words.
MEL. : I suppose, sir, you have made the tour of France ;
and, having seen all that's fine there, will make a con-
siderable reformation in the rudeness of our court : For let
me die, but an unfashioned, untravelled, mere Sicilian, is
a bete ; and has nothing in the world of an honnete homme.
PAL. : I must confess, madam, that
MEL. : And what new minuets have you brought over
with you ? their minuets are to a miracle ! And our
Sicilian jigs so dull and sad to them !
PAL. : For minuets, madam
MEL. : And what new plays are there in vogue ? And who
721
danced best in the last grand ballet ? Come, sweet
servant, you shall tell me all.
PAL. (aside) : Tell her all ? Why she asks all, and will
heare nothing. — To answer in order, madam, to your
demands
MEL. : I am thinking what a happy couple we shall be !
For you shall keep up your correspondence abroad, and
everything that's new writ, in France, and fine, I mean all
that's delicate and bien tourne, we will have first.
JOHN DRYDEN
Marriage a la Mode (1673)
RUSSIAN BALLET
The Russians, hearing the great respect we have for
Foreign Dancing, have lately sent over some of their best
Ballarins, who are now practising a famous Ballat, which
will be suddenly danced at the Bear-garden.
GEORGE ETHEREGE
The Man of Mode (1676)
FRENCH FASHIONS
I have much wondered why our English above other
nations should so much doat upon new fashions, but more
I wonder at our want of wit, that wee cannot invent them
ourselves, but when one is growne stale runne presently
over into France, to seeke a new, making that noble and
722
flourishing kingdome the magazin of our fooleries : and for
this purpose many of our tailors lye leger there, and ladies
post over their gentlemen ushers, to accoutre them and
themselves as you see.
HENRY PEACHAM
The Truth of our Times (1638)
SALUTE TO ALL FOREIGNERS
I hear emulous shouts of Australians pursuing the wild
horse,
I hear the Spanish dance with castanets in the chestnut
shade, to the rebeck and guitar,
I hear continual echoes from the Thames,
I hear fierce French liberty songs,
I hear of the Italian boat-sculler the musical recitative
of old poems,
I hear the locusts in Syria as they strike the grain and
grass with the showers of their terrible clouds,
I hear the chirp of the Mexican muleteer, and the bells
of the mule,
I hear the Arab muezzin calling from the top of the
mosque, . . .
I hear the cry of the Cossack, and the sailor's voice
putting to sea at Okotsk, . . ,
I hear the Hebrew reading his records and psalms,
I hear the rhythmic myths of the Greeks, and the strong
legends of the Romans, . . .
I hear the Hindoo teaching his favorite pupil the loves,
wars, adages, transmitted safely to this day from
poets who wrote three thousand years ago. . . .
723
You whoever you are !
You daughter or son of England !
You of the mighty Slavic tribes and empires ! You Russ
in Russia !
You dim-descended, black, divine-soul'd African, large,
fine-headed, nobly form'd, superbly destin'd, on
equal terms with me !
You Norwegian ! Swede ! Dane ! Icelander ! you Prus-
sian !
You Spaniard of Spain ! you Portuguese !
You Frenchwoman and Frenchman of France !
You Beige ! you liberty-lover of the Netherlands ! (you
stock whence I myself have descended) ;
You sturdy Austrian ! you Lombard ! Hun ! Bohemian !
farmer of Styria !
You neighbor of the Danube !
You working-man of the Rhine, the Elbe or the Weser !
you working-woman too !
You Sardinian ! you Bavarian ! Swabian ! Saxon !
Wallachian ! Bulgarian !
You Roman ! Neapolitan ! you Greek !
You lithe matador in the arena at Seville !
You mountaineer living lawlessly on the Taurus or
Caucasus !
You Bokh horse-herd watching your mares and stallions
feeding !
You beautiful-bodied Persian at full speed in the saddle
shooting arrows to the mark !
You Chinaman and Chinawoman of China ! you Tartar
of Tartary ! . . .
You Jew journeying in your old age through every risk
to stand once more on Syrian ground !
You other Jews waiting in all lands for your Messiah !
724
You thoughtful Armenian . . . !
You sheiks . . . !
You Thibet trader . . . !
You Japanese . . . !
All you continentals of Asia, Africa, Europe, Australia,
indifferent of place ! . . .
Health to you ! good will to you all, from me and America
sent ! . . .
You Hottentot with clicking palate ! you woolly-hair'd
hordes ! . . .
You dwarf 'd Kamtschatkan, Greenlander, Lapp !
You Austral negro, naked, red, sooty, with protrusive lip,
groveling, seeking your food !
You Caffre, Berber, Soudanese !
You haggard, uncouth, untutor'd Bedowee !
You plague-swarms in Madras, Nankin, Kaubul, Cairo !
You benighted roamer of Amazonia ! you Patagonian !
you Feejeeman !
I do not prefer others so very much before you either,
I do not say one word against you, . . .
Salut au monde / . . .
Toward you all, in America's name,
I raise high the perpendicular hand, I make the signal. . . .
WALT WHITMAN
Salut au Monde ! (1856)
725
XENOPHOBIA
HATING THE DUTCH
Holland, that scarce deserves the name of land.
As but th' off-scouring of the British sand, ....
This indigested vomit of the sea
Fell to the Dutch by just propriety.
Glad, then, as miners who have found the oar,
They, with mad labour, fish'd the land to shoar ;
And div'd as desperately for each piece
Of earth, as if 't had been of ambergreece ;
Collecting anxiously small loads of clay,
Less then what building swallows bear away ;
Or then those pills which sordid beetles roul,
Transfusing into them their dunghil soul. . . .
Yet still his claim the injur'd ocean laid,
And oft at leap-frog ore their steeples plaid
A daily deluge over them does boyl ;
The earth and water play at level-coyl.
The fish oft-times the burger dispossest,
And sat, not as a meat, but as a guest,
And oft the Tritons and the sea-nymphs saw
Whole sholes of Dutch serv'd up for Cabillau ;
Or, as they over the new level rang'd,
For pickled herring, pickled heeren chang'd. . . .
726
Therefore Necessity, that first made kings.
Something like government among them brings. . . .
'Tis probable Religion, after this.
Came next in order, which they could not miss ; . . .
Sure when Religion did itself imbark,
And from the East would Westward steer its ark,
It struck, and splitting on this unknown ground,
Each one thense pillag'd the first piece he found :
Hence Amsterdam, Turk-Christian-Pagan-Jew,
Staple of sects, and mint of Schisme grew ; . . . .
In vain for Catholicks our selves we bear ;
The universal church is only there. . . .
How fit a title clothes their governours,
Themselves the hogs, as all their subjects bores ! . . .
ANDREW MARVELL
Character of Holland (1672)
HATING THE SPANISH
In contemplacion of all which things, who would not be
incouraged to proceed in this Voiage, having in a maner
none other cnemyes but these Spaniards, abhorred of
God and man ?
SIR WALTER RALEIGH
Of the Voyage for Guiana (c. 1598)
HATING THE FRENCH
Frenchmen are not human beings, and must under
no circumstances be dealt with as such. If a German
727
nevertheless lowers himself to treat a Frenchman
humanly, he is only doing it in order not to come down
to the level of the French.
The German must therefore avoid having any volun-
tary dealings with a Frenchman, as otherwise he is dirtying
himself and the German people indelibly.
Pforzheimer Anzeiger
(1933)
His .reply to the person who complimented him on its
[the Dictionary's] coming out . . . mentioning the ill
success of the French in a similar attempt, is well known ;
and, I trust has been often recorded : " Why, what would
you expect, dear Sir (said he) from fellows that eat frogs ? "
HESTHER PIOZZI
Anecdotes of Dr Johnson
(1786)
HATING THE BABYLONIANS
Remember the children of Edom, O Lord, in the day of
Jerusalem ; how they said, Downe with it, downe with
it, even to the ground.
O daughter of Babylon, wasted with misery : yea, happy
shall he be that rewardeth thee, as thou hast served us.
Blessed shall he be that taketh thy children : and throweth
them against the stones.
Psalm 137. Book of Common Prayer
Trans. Miles Coverdale (1611 edition)
728
HATING ALL FOREIGNERS
To the banisht Earle I came to render thankes, when thus
he examined and schoold me.
Countriman, tell me what is the occasion of thy
straying so farre out of England., to visit this strange
nation ? If it bee languages, thou maist learne them at
home, nought but lasciviousnesse is to bee learnt here.
Perhaps to be better accounted of than others of thy condi-
tion, thou ambitiously undertakest this voyage : these
insolent fancies are but Icarus feathers, whose wanton
waxe melted against the Sunne will betray thee into a sea
of confusion.
The first traveller was Cain, and he was called a vag-
abond runnagate on the face of the earth. . . .
God had not greater curse to lay upon the Israelites, than
by leading them out of their owne countrey to live as slaves
in a strange land. That which was their curse, we English-
men count our chiefe blessednes, hee is no bodie that hath
not traveld : wee had rather live as slaves in another land,
croutch and cap, and be servile to everie jelous Italians
and proud Spaniards Humor, where we may neither speak
looke nor doo anie thing but what pleaseth them : than live
as freemen and Lords in our owne Countrey.
He that is a traveller must have the backe of an asse to
beare all, a tung like the taile of a dog to flatter all, the
mouth of a hogge to eate what is set before him, the eare
of a merchant to heare all and say nothing : and if this be
not the highest step of thraldome, there is no libertie or
freedome
If thou doost but lend half a looke to a Romans or
Italians wife, thy porredge shalbe prepared for thee, and
729
cost thee nothing but thy lyfe. Chance some of them
breake a bitter jest on thee, and thou retortst it severely, or
seemest discontented : goe to they chamber, and provide
a great blanket, for thou shalt be sure to be visited with
guests in a mask the next night, when in kindness and
courtship thy throat shall be cut, and the dooers returne
undiscovered. . . .
What is there in Fraunce to bee learned more than in
England, but falshood in fellowship, perfect slovenrie, to
love no man but for my pleasure, to sweare Ah par la mort
Dieu. ... I have knowen some that have continued there
by the space of halfe a dozzen yeares, and when they come
home, they have hid a little weerish leane face under a
broad French hat, kept a terrible coyle with the dust in
the streete in their long cloakes . . . and spoke English
strangely. Nought els have they profited by their travell,
save learnt to distinguish of the true Burdcax Grape, and
knowe a cup of neate Gascoigne wine from wine of Orleans
.... and v/alk melancholy with their Armcs folded.
From Spaine what bringeth our Traveller ? A scull
crowned hat of the fashion of an olde deepe porringer, a
diminutive Aldermans ruffe. ... A soldier and a braggart
he is (thats concluded) he jetteth strouting, dancing on
hys toes with his hands under his sides. If you talk with
him, he makes a dishcloth of his owne Countrey in
comparison of Spaine., but if you urge him more particu-
larly wherein it exceeds, he can give no instance but in
Spaine they have better bread than any we have : when
(pore hungrie slaves) they may crumble it into water well
inough . . . for they have not a good morsell of meate
except it be salt piltchers to eat with it all the yere long :
and which is more, they are poore beggars, and lye in
fowle straw everie night.
730
Italy the Paradice of the earth, and the Epicures heaven,
how doth it forme our yong master ? It makes him to kiss
his hand like an ape, cringe his necke like a starveling, and
play at hey passe repasse come aloft when he salutes a
man. From thence he brings the art of atheisme, the
art of epicurising, the art of whoring, the art of poysoning,
the art of Sodomitrie. The onely probable good thing
they have to keepe us from utterly condemning it is, that
it maketh a man an excellent Courtier, a curious carpet
knight : which is, by interpretation, a fine close leacher, a
glorious hipocrite. It is no we a privie note amonst the
better sort of men, when they would set a singular marke
or brand in a notorious villaine, to say, he hath beene in
Italy.
With the Dane and the Dutchman I will not encounter,
for they are simple honest men, that . . . doe nothing but fill
bottomles tubs, and will be drunke and snort in the midst
of dinner : he hurts himself only that goes thither, he can-
not lightly be damned, for the vintners, the brewers, the
malt-men, and ale wives pray for him. . . . But lightly a man
is nere the better for their prayers, for they commit all
deadly sin for the most part of them in mingling their
drinke, the vintners in the highest degree. . . .
THOMAS NASHE
The Unfortunate Traveller (1594)
Thos old Hebrews esteemed the whole world Gentiles ;
the Greeks held all Barbarians but themselves ; our modern
Italians account of us as dull Transalpines by way of
approach, they scorn thee and thy country, which thou so
much admires t. 'Tis a childish humour to hone after
731
home, to be discontent at that which others seek ; to
prefer, as base Icelanders and Norwegians doe their own
ragged Island before Italy or Greece, the Gardens of the
world. There is a base Nation in the North, saith Pliny ,
called Chauciy that live amongst rockes and sands by the
sea side, feede on fish, drinke water ; and yet these base
people account themselves slaves in respect when they
come to Rome.
ROBERT BURTON
The Anatomy of Melancholy (1621. Edition 1632)
HATING GERMAN FIDDLERS
The players being denied coming to Oxford by the Vice-
Chancellor, and that very rightly, tho' they might as well
have been here as Handell and his lowsy crew, a great
number of foreign fidlers.
THOMAS HEARNE
Diary (July 6th, 1733)
732
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I should like to thank, for permission to use copyright material,
the following authors, authors' representatives, and publishers :
Mr. David Garnett and Messrs. Chatto & Windus, A Rabbit in the
Air ; Mr. Stuart Gilbert and Messrs. Desmond Harmsworth,
Night Flight, Mr. T. Hodgkin and the Oxford University Press,
translation of a letter of Sidonius ; the family of Gerard Manley
Hopkins and the Oxford University Press, A Vision of the Mer-
maids, and The Stars ; Mr. Robert Lynd and Messrs. Methuen
& Co., Happy England ; Miss E. J. Scovell, A girl and her sister ;
Mr, Logan Pearsall Smith and Messrs. Constable & Co., Trivia
and More Trivia j Mr. R. E. Tickell and Messrs. Constable & Co.,
Thomas Tickell ; Mrs. Woolf and the Hogarth Press, Orlando ; Mr.
Thomas Wright and Messrs. Everett & Co., The Life of Sir
Richard Burton ; Messrs. Macmillan, G. C. Macaulay's translation
of Herodotus ; Messrs. Constable & Co., Emerson's Journal ;
Professor Fmdlay and Messrs. Longman's, Chemistry in the
Service of Man j and the Trustees of the British Museum for
leave to use various B.M. MSS. I am also very grateful to Miss
Marjorie Hope Nicholson and the Yale University Press for per-
mission to use Miss Nicholson's edition of the Conway Letters in
quoting from these. Finally, I should like gratefully to acknow-
ledge the skilful, valuable and unwearying help of Miss D. E.
Marshall.
733
INDEX OF AUTHORS AND
TRANSLATORS
ADDISON, JOSEPH, 212, 665
ALDRICH, HENRY, 63
ANON, 40, 44, 48, 75, 89, 201, 211, 214, 249, 257, 279,
291, 344, 359, 489, 501, 561, 562, 580, 602, 616, 629,
646, 727
ANYTE, 461
APOLLINARIS, SIDONIUS, 314, 695
APOLLODORUS, 522
ASHMOLE, ELIAS, 146
AUBREY, JOHN, 22, 25, 26, 31, 54, 81, 107, 131, 134, 144,
169, 178, 179, 180, 187, 191, 192, 202, 229, 231, 233,
270, 274, 282, 299, 306, 329^ 33 i, 33^ 340. 344. 349,
359, 363, 369, 399, 433, 434, 44^, 467, 5"> 5^8, 53i>
534, 558, 592, 615, 626, 631, 637, 659, 660, 671, 689,
703, 710
AUGUSTINE, ST. (OF HIPPO), 442, 648
AUSTEN, JANE, 568, 629, 700
AYLOFFE, WILLIAM, 548
B., J., 123
BACON, FRANCIS, 238, 285, 298, 475, 636, 709
BALLANTYNE, R. M., 47
BARCLAY, ALEXANDER, 117
BARTHOLOMEW, ANGLICUS, 15, 66, 67, 353, 511
BAXTER, RICHARD, 435
BEND, SIR ANTHONY, 307
735
BEST, H. D., 30, 128
BLAKE, WILLIAM, 339, 552, 554
BLANCHARD, JEAN PIERRE, 94
BLESSINGTON, LADY, 53, 248, 381
BORROW, GEORGE, 192
BOSWELL, JAMES, 32, 38, 58, 59, 78, 120, 135, 217, 225, 234,
333. 347. 352, 379, 396, 440, 445, 487, 534, 541, 546,
554, 613, 625, 630, 662
BRANDT, SEBASTIAN, 117
BRETON, NICHOLAS, 108, 372, 557, 559
BROWN, TOM, 180, 259, 351, 516, 620, 663
BROWNE, ISAAC HAWKINS, 621
BROWNE, SIR THOMAS, 44, 133, 142, 145, 171, 175, 177,
235. 250, 335, 338, 501, 583, 588, 645, 654, 675
BROWNING, ELIZABETH, 221
BROWNING, ROBERT, 200, 383, 428
BUCKLEY, T. A., 275
BULWER, JOHN, 114, 284, 584, 649, 651, 652, 653
BUONAPARTE, NAPOLEON, 212
BURGES, GEORGE, 390
BURNET, GILBERT, 299
BURNEY, FANNY, 51, 546
BURTON, ROBERT, 80, 82, 85, 213, 224, 230, 233, 263, 283,
289, 314, 341, 448, 4793 512, 532, 535, 54~4, 551, 600,
609, 657, 676, 688, 711, 731
BUSHNELL, SAMUEL C., 425
BUTLER, SAMUEL, 326, 376
BYRON, LORD, 182, 194, 195, 213, 285, 326, 370, 475,
476, 477, 478, 595, 624, 627, 628, 659
C., J., 436
CAIUS, JOHN, 507
CALAMY, EDMUND, 134, 436, 671
CAMDEN, WILLIAM, 173, 619
736
CAMPION, THOMAS, 166, 306, 714
CANNING, GEORGE, 265
CARANCA, RODRIGO DE, 129
CARLYLE, THOMAS, 184, 542
CASGRAIN, ABBE, 304
CATULLUS, 503
CAVENDISH, MARGARET DUCHESS OF NEWCASTLE, 653
CAVENDISH, WILLIAM DUKE OF NEWCASTLE, 403
CHAPMAN, GEORGE, 208, 218, 239, 276, 319, 621
CICERO, M. ^,254,295, 296, 298, 312, 420, 451, 480, 495,
694
CLOUGH, A. H., 712
CONGREVE, WILLIAM, 120, 121, 136, 221, 223, 323, 350,
351, 379, 401, 414, 517, 571, 593, 638
CON WAY, LORD, 380
CORBET, RICHARD, 62
COVERDALE, MlLES, 461, 499, 569, 728
COWLEY, ABRAHAM, 209, 246, 311, 335, 465
COWPER, WILLIAM, 327, 513
CRASHAW, RICHARD, 611
DAUDET, ALPHONSE, 598
DAVENANT, SIR WILLIAM, 332
DAVIES, SIR JOHN, 149, 616
DEFOE, DANIEL, 696
DENNIS, JOHN, 689
DICKENS, CHARLES, 630
DIDEROT, DENIS, 540
DISRAELI, ISAAC, 26, 27, 117, 119, 137, 190, 196, 302, 376,
4i?> 522, 533> 536
DONNE, JOHN, 336
DONNELLAN, MRS., 450
DOWSING, WILLIAM, 188
ZP 737
DRAYTON, MICHAEL, 62, 74, 83, 131, 174, 394, 427, 462,
488, 639, 644
DRYDEN, JOHN, 52, 101, 212, 269, 402, 460, 488, 492, 553,
720
Du BARTAS, GUILLAUME, 389, 418
EARLE, JOHN, 599
ELIZABETH, QUEEN, 586, 612
ELLWOOD, THOMAS, 251, 532
ELYOT, SIR THOMAS, 230
EMERSON, RALPH WALDO, 459
ERONDELL, PIERRE, in, 364, 474, 486, 556, 606
ESTIENNE, CHARLES, 79, 81, 140, 244, 512, 513, 614, 718
ETHEREGE, SIR GEORGE, 109, 255, 375, 409, 426, 722
EVELYN, JOHN, 15, 108, 116, 148, 235, 236, 237, 243, 244,
271, 310, 322, 464, 469, 471, 586, 635, 655, 681, 683
FABYAN, ROBERT, 305
FALLERSLEBEN, H. V., 500
FANSHAWE, SIR RICHARD, 490
FARLEY, HENRY, 60 1
FARQUHAR, GEORGE, 408, 426, 551
FINDLAY, ALEXANDER, 348
FlTZSTEPHEN, WILLIAM, 322
FLEMING, ABRAHAM, 507
FLORIO, JOHN, 201, 277, 294, 295, 343, 466, 536, 584, 648
FONTENELLE, BERNARD DE, 21, IO2, 104, 193, 196, 264,
308, 325. 355> 358, 3?65 536
FULLER, THOMAS, 608
GAGE, THOMAS, 591
GAMBLE, JOHN, 22, 166
GARNETT, DAVID, 98
GIBBON, EDWARD, 29, 36, 309, 342, 458
GILBERT, STUART, 99
738
GLANVILL, JOHN, 21, 102, 104, 193, 196, 264, 308, 325,
355> 358, 376, 536
GOLDING, ARTHUR, 459
GOLDSMITH, OLIVER, 31, 181, 288, 543, 657
GOSSON, STEPHEN, 172, 505, 519
GOUGH, RICHARD, 116, 117
GRAY, THOMAS, 484
GRENEWEY, RICHARD, 305
GRONOW, R. H., 183
GUNNING, HENRY, 37, 439, 625
HALL, JOSEPH, 210, 261, 595, 612, 675, 704
HAWES, STEPHEN, 278, 320
HAWKINS, SIR JOHN, 687
HEARNE, THOMAS, 181, 259, 307, 436, 439, 545, 615, 732
HENRY OF HUNTINGDON, 305
HERBERT, GEORGE, 198, 666
HERODOTUS, 163, 224, 265, 468, 581, 608, 638
HEROLT, JOANNES, 659
HERRICK, ROBERT, 29, 252, 330, 337, 373, 419, 454, 462,
697, 712, 716
HERRINGMAN, HENRY, 175
HEYRICK, THOMAS, 385
HEY WOOD, THOMAS, 518
HILL, GEORGE BIRKBECK, 440
HOBBES, THOMAS, 141
HODGKIN, T., 314, 695
HOLLAND, PHILEMON, 68, 70, 71, 72, 74, 115, 188, 197,
294> 353. 362, 387* 4?8, 496, 502, 504, 506, 582, 641
HOMER, 208, 218, 239, 275, 276, 319, 695
HOOKES, NICHOLAS, 242
HOPKINS, G. M., 104, 391
HORACE, 171, 495
739
HUNT, LEIGH, 212, 286, 519, 691
HUTCHINSON, LUCY, 287, 413, 575
INCHBALD, MRS., 419
JAMES I, 617, 660
JENNER, THOMAS, 619
JEROME, ST, 330, 647
JEWSBURY, GERALDINE, 285
JEWSBURY, MARIA JANE, 423
JOHNSON, SAMUEL, 269, 333, 352, 419, 611, 663
JOHNSON, REV. SAMUEL, 444
JOHNSON, W., 214
JOHNSTON, WILLIAM, 293
JONSON, BEN, 283, 622, 692
JORDAN, THOMAS, 368
KEATS, JOHN, 88, 168, 389
KEMP, WILLIAM, 165
KEN, THOMAS, 215
KNOX, CAPTAIN, 303
LA FAYETTE, MADAME DE, 137
LAMB, CHARLES, 213, 427, 613
LANGHORNE, J. and W., 640
LAW, WILLIAM, 539
LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM, 390
L'ESTRANGE, SIR NICHOLAS, 229, 629
LlNSCHOTEN, J. H. VAN, 302
LOVELACE, RICHARD, 529
LUNARDI, V., 92, 94
LYND, ROBERT, 185
740
MACAULAY, G. C., 163, 224, 265, 468, 581, 608, 638
MACAULAY, MARGARET, 226
MACAULAY, T. B., 225
MARLOWE, CHRISTOPHER, 705, 707
MAROLLES, MICHEL DE, 344
MARSTON, JOHN, 222
MARTIAL, 510, 646
MARVELL, ANDREW, 463, 677, 726
MAYNE, JASPER, 129
MENNIS, SIR JOHN, 85, 331
MICHELET, J., 497
MILTON, JOHN, 38, 59, 105, 161, 164, 202, 204, 240, 241,
328, 334, 340, 347, 400, 405, 406, 431, 433, 434, 442,
448, 491, 537, 611, 634, 643, 690, 701
MOLIERE, JEAN, 422, 567
MONTAIGNE, MICHEL DE, 201, 277, 294, 295, 343, 466, 536,
584, 648
MONTI, VINCENZO, 500
MORE, HANNAH, 113, 310, 485, 516, 540, 666, 698
MORE, HENRY, 39, 147, 444, 545, 686
MORE, SIR THOMAS, 304
MORLEY, THOMAS, 165
MORRICE, J., 436
MORTON, THOMAS, 610, 707
MOYLE, WALTER, 383, 642, 688
NASHE, THOMAS, 293, 316, 678, 729
NORTH, SIR THOMAS, 194, 313, 398, 592
OAKMAN, JOHN, 96
OSBORNE, DOROTHY, 138, 175, 538, 579, 585, 685
OVID, 45, 52, 86, 223, 269, 274, 379, 402, 421, 422, 459,
460, 518, 646, 672
OWEN, WILLIAM, 293
74i
PARKER, SAMUEL, 295, 296, 298, 451
PEACHAM, HENRY, 43, 86, 200, 479, 720, 722
PEPYS, SAMUEL, 25, 55, 120, 145, 222, 246, 330, 369, 378,
391, 402, 482, 504, 541, 544, 555, 587, 667, 674, 680, 692
PERCY, SHOLTO and REUBEN, 524, 525, 527, 528
PERCY, WILLIAM, 39
PIOZZI, HESTHER, 78, 205, 271, 346, 445, 544, 628, 631,
637, 641, 728
PLAUTUS, 609
PLINY (ELDER), 68, 70, 71, 72, 74, 115, 188, 294, 353, 387,
478, 502, 504, 506, 582
PLINY (YOUNGER), 550
PLUTARCH, 194, 197, 313, 362, 398, 496, 592, 640, 641
POPE, ALEXANDER, 119, 266, 268, 555, 656
POPE, WALTER, 447
PRYNNE, WILLIAM, 444, 530
QUEVEDO, F. G. DE, 397
RABUTIN, COMTE DE BUSSY, 555
RALEIGH, SIR WALTER, 127, 129, 143, 376, 481, 626, 648,
673> 685, 708, 727
RAY, JOHN, 146
REVENEL, J., 527
REYNOLDS, FREDERICK, 30, 31
RICHARDSON, SAMUEL, 299, 382, 410, 411
ROGER OF WENDOVER, 305
ROLAND, MADAME, 525
ROYDON, MATTHEW, 280
RUFUS, M. CAELIUS, 254
RUFUS, SERVIUS SULPICIUS, 250
SAINT-EXUP£RY, A. DE, 99
SALTONSTALL, WYE, 45, 422
742
SAN BARTOLOMEO, P. DA, 214
SAVAGE, JOHN, 397
SAVAGE, RICHARD, 524
SAVILE, SIR HENRY, 118
SCOVELL, E. J., 632
SELDEN, JOHN, 217, 218
SHAKESPEARE, W., 79, 207, 281, 304, 353
SHELLEY, P. B., 51, 182, 195, 395, 420, 514, 691
SHERIDAN, RICHARD, 711
SIDNEY, SIR PHILIP, 230, 337
SKELTON, JOHN, 503
SMITH, LOGAN PEARSALL, 169, 185, 199, 263, 312, 487,
589, 709
SMITH, SYDNEY, 122, 215
SMITH, WILLIAM, 307
SMOLLETT, TOBIAS, 49, 50, 220, 233, 315, 484
SOUTHERNE, THOMAS, 684
SOUTHEY, ROBERT, 590
SPENCE, JOSEPH, 330
SPENSER, EDMUND, 205
STANHOPE, PHILIP, LORD CHESTERFIELD, 375
STEDMAN, FABIAN, 63
STEELE, SIR RICHARD, 57, 58, 382, 597, 710
STERNE, LAURENCE, 533
STOW, JOHN, in, 322
STRUCT, JOSEPH, 231, 232
STUBBES, PHILIP, 371, 668, 669
SUCKLING, SIR JOHN, 404
SURFLET, RICHARD, 79, 81, 140, 244, 512, 513, 614, 718
SWAN, JOHN, 393, 515, 623
SWIFT, JONATHAN, 16, 112, 121, 123, 124, 181, 415, 436,
441, 449, 589, 672
SYLVESTER, JOSHUA, 389, 418
743
TACITUS, 305
TEMPLE, SIR WILLIAM, 247, 467
THEOCRITUS, 291
THOMSON, JAMES, 494
TICKELL, MRS., 260
TOPSELL, EDWARD, 64, 65, 66, 68, 71, 198, 508
TRAHERNE, THOMAS, 324, 361, 704
TRELAWNEY, E. J., 17, 19, 286
TREVISA, JOHN, 15, 66, 67, 353, 511
TYNDALE, WILLIAM, 349, 705
VERNON, MR., 274, 672
VILLIERS, GEORGE, DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM, 33
VOLTAIRE, F. M. A. DE, 585, 656
W., Is., 253
WALLER, EDMUND, 446
WALPOLE, HORACE, 97, 143, 205, 260, 270, 321, 380, 418,
424, 449, 457, 485, 553, 680, 687
WALTON, IZAAK, 24, 82, 83, 85, 105, 132, 139, 147, 170,
312, 345, 442, 550, 588, 693
WARBURTON, WILLIAM, 267, 268
WATTS, ISAAC, 193, 333
WELSH, JANE, 139, 277, 543, 699
WHITMAN, WALT, 214, 377, 378, 396, 425, 498, 718, 723
WILKINS, JOHN, 88, 384
WILMOT, JOHN, EARL OF ROCHESTER, 260, 381
WOOD, ANTHONY, 28, 54, 132, 176, 177, 257, 370, 441,
442,481,631
WOOLF, VIRGINIA, 323
WRIGHT, THOMAS, 189
WYCHERLEY, WILLIAM, 216, 339, 410, 448, 450, 680
744
INDEX OF FIRST LINES
OF VERSE
A girl said to her sister, late, when their friends had
gone page 632
A glimpse through an interstice caught 377
A goodly hall 320
Ah Posthumus \ Our yeares hence flye 454
A learned and a happy Ignorance 324
All nobilitie 692
Among so many crownes of burnisht gold 707
And first of all, my hart gan to learne 278
And now unveil'd, the Toilet stands display'd 656
And now what Monarch would not Gardener be 242
And prytely he wolde pant 503
And Spanish paper, Lip and Cheek 655
And to your more bewitching, see, the proud 330
As I sat in the cafe I said to myself 712
As large, as bright, as coloured as the bow 389
As you Apollo's Eldest Off-Spring are 448
A time there is for all, my mother often sayes 230
At last an hospitable House they found 402
At Shearing time she shall commaund 559
Awake, awake, my little boy 339
Bee dum ye infant chimes, thump not the mettle 62
Behold ! how Hymens Taper-light 716
Behold the populous City in her pride 422
745
Bella Italia, amate sponde page 500
Busie old foole, unruly Sunne 336
But inward round, in rowes there stand 720
By the waters of Babylon we sate downe and wept 499
City of orgies, walks and joys 425
Come sleepe, o sleepe, the certaine knot of peace 337
Come Sons of Summer, by whose toile 373
Damnosa quid non imminuit dies ? 171
Deutshe Worte hor ich wieder 500
Deutschland, Deutschland, iiber alles 500
Diana and her Darlings dear 48
Down in a garden sat my dearest love 580
Even as the sun with purple colour'd face 207
For this is my minde, this one pleasoure have I 117
For when the Saxons first receaved the Christian
Faith 131
From noise of Scare-fires rest ye free 337
From the dull confines of the drooping West 419
From the first Age the Theater hath been 518
Fye ; what a trouble 'tis to count this trash 705
Gather ye Rose-buds while ye may 252
Grrr — there go, my heart's abhorrence 383
Had I but plenty of money, money enough and to
spare 428
746
Haste hither Eve, and worth thy sight behold page 701
Henry the Fifth, he conquered all France 489
Here could I tell you how upon the seas 616
Here was he 208
He travelleth to Tames, where passing by those
Townes 62
Hey ! who comes heere ail-along 165
Holland, that scarce deserves the name of land 726
Homer of Moly and Nepenthe sings 616
I Beheld her on a Day 283
I come from the city of Boston 425
I danced the polka and Cellarius 221
If I live to be Old, for I find I go down 447
I find no cause nor judge I reason why 488
I heard the Ruffian-Shepherd rudely blow 52
I hear emulous shouts of Australians pursuing the
wild horse 723
I know not love (quoth he) nor will not know it 79
In matters of commerce, the fault of the Dutch 265
In rennynge the exercise is good also 201
In Sparta long agoe, where Menelaus wore the
crowne 291
In this Kings reigne Pomona lived. There was not to
bee found 459
In this pleasant soile 240
In various talk th' instructive hours they past 119
I saw a countrey lasse 22
I saw new Worlds beneath the Water lye 361
I saw the marriage of the trapper in the open air in
the far west 718
It grieves me when I see what Fate 293
It was in June, and 'twas on Barnaby Bright too 40
747
I was glad when they said unto me : We wil go into
the house of the Lord page 499
I would be married, but Pde have no wife 611
Land of coal and iron ! land of gold ! land of cotton,
sugar, rice 498
Let there be Patrons ; patrons like to thee 29
Let us drink and be merry, dance, Joke, and Rejoice 368
Like heavens two maine lights 319
Little Tube of mighty Pow'r 621
Look at the stars ! look, look up at the skies 104
Merry, merry, merry, we sail from the East 101
Methought I saw my late espoused Saint 340
Mortals that would follow me 691
Most things move th5 under- jaw, the Crocodile not 198
My Bed was such, as Down nor Feather can 331
My Cabinets are Oyster-shells 653
My Garden fill'd with Fruits you may behold 460
My Palace, in the living Rock, is made 269
Neptune sate in his Chariot High 385
Nor delaid the winged Saint 105
Now hath Flora rob'd her bowers 714
Now purer aire 634
Now warre is all the world about 490
Oh the bonny Christchurch Bells 63
Oh the wild joys of living ! the leaping from rock up
to rock 200
748
O Mine owne sweet heart page 562
O more than mortall man, that did this Towne begin 427
On a time the amorous Silvy 561
On to thir mornings rural work they haste 241
Or Faerie Elves 164
O Thou that sleepst like Pigg in Straw 332
Phoebe drest like beauty's queen 552
Remember the children of Edom, O Lord, in the
day of Jerusalem 728
Saluting the deare soyle, O famous Kent> quoth
shee 462
See the Chariot at hand here of love 283
See where she comes ; and smell how all the street 712
See where she sits upon the grassie greene 205
Shut up close Prisner in Mount-Orgueil Pile 530
So from the turf outsprang two steeds jet-black 88
Soft Recreations fit the Female-kind 379
So hand in hand they passd, the lovliest pair 400
Some talk of Gunnersbury 321
Starrs Enamour'd with Pastimes Olympicall 75
Stet Capitolium 495
Still unaccomplish'd may the Maid be thought 223
Strephon, of noble blood and mind 193
Sweet she was, as kind a love 279
Sublime Tobacco \ which from East to West 624
Tell me you wandering spirits of the Ayre 580
The Almond flourisheth, the Birch trees flowe 645
The constant Cantharus 418
The Fishes in the Flood 83
749
The four and twentieth Day of May page 44
The Grot he enter'd, Pumice built the Hall 274
The Indian weede withered quite 619
Theis are the spels which to kind sleep invite 335
The Man whose vacant mind prepares him for the
sport 74
The Moon, in her pride, once glanced aside 359
Then, looking on the waters, I was ware 391
The Phoenix faire which rich Arabia breedes 307
There is no happy life 403
The Seas are quiet, when the Winds give o're 446
These Nymphs trick'd up in tyers, the Sea-gods to
delight 394
The Servants then (commanded) soone obaid 218
The Star that bids the Shepherd fold 161
The Streets seem'd paved with golden stones 704
The Tyrian Merchant, or the Portuguese 389
The utmost Malice of their Stars is past 492
The world below the brine 396
Tho' Miracles cease yet Wonders increase 96
Thou art a day of mirth 666
Thou only canst each absent Blessing grant 339
Thou who shalt stop, where Thames' translucent
wave 268
Thro' the green Oake-wood on a lucent Morn 211
Thus talking hand in hand alone they pass'd 334
Tis now a time when (Zephyrus) all with dancing 166
Tis the voice of the Sluggard ; I hear him complain 333
To encounter feast with houswifry 276
To see a strange out-landish Fowle 60 1
To see his face, the Lyon walkt along 281
To sup with thee thou didst me home invite 697
Travellers gain Rest, but by coming Home 680
750
Vertue could see to do what vertue would page 690
Vex'd with a Thousand Pigmy friends, and such 85
Wassail the trees, that they may beare 462
We allow'd you Beauty, and we did submit 209
We flourisht long 174
We things cal'd women, only made for shew 222
What is that Land, says he, the Waves embrace ? 672
What musick is there that compar'd may be 63
When Britain first at heaven's command 494
When God did Man to his own likenes make 246
When he descended downe the mount 280
When I who was Amans, which we translate 45
When love with unconfined wings 529
When Phoebus lifts his head out of the Winteres
wave 644
When timely death my life and fortune ends 306
When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy 554
When thou dos't dance the Spheares doe play 166
When we have run our Passions heat 463
Whereas the Hermit leads a sweet retyred life 639
Where lives the man that never yet did heare 149
Where the remote Bermudas ride 677
Who can live in heart so glad 557
Who is it will repaire 602
Who would not joy to see his conquering hand 465
Why shou'd Old Age to most so dreadful be ? 450
With Horns and with Hounds I waken the Day 212
Without the hall, and close upon the gate 239
Yesterday I went 129
Ye Virgins that from Cupids tents 253
Y'expect to hear at least what Love hath past 260
Yon cottager, who weaves at her own door 327
751
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The Gamelot Press Ltd., London and Southampton