perhaps more candid, than myself. For my own part, I do not pretend to understand those prudent forms of decorum, those gentle rules of discretion, which some men endeavour to unite with the conduct of the greatest and most hazardous affairs. Engaged in the defence of an honourable cause, I would take a decisive part. I should scorn to provide for a future retreat, or to keep terms with a man who preserves no measure with the public. I would pursue him through life, and try the last exertion of my abilities to preserve the perishable infamy of his name, and make it immortal. JUNIUS

147. THE ORIGINAL POLITICAL CONDITION OF THE ROMAN COMMONS WAS NOT SUITABLE TO THEIR ALTERED

CIRCUMSTANCES. Society has almost always begun in inequality, and its tendency is towards equality. This is a sure progress: but the inequality of its first stage is neither unnatural nor unjust: it is only the error of preserving instead of improving which has led to injustice; the folly of thinking that men's institutions can be perpetual when everything else in the world is continually changing. When the conquered Latins were first brought to Rome by those who were then the only Roman citizens, when they were allowed to retain their personal liberty, to enjoy landed property, and to become so far a part of the Roman people, it was not required that they should at once pass from the condition of foreigners to that of perfect citizens: the condition of commons was a fit state of transition from the one rank to the other. But after years had passed away, and both they and their original conquerors were in fact become one people: above all, when this truth had been practically acknowledged by the constitution of Servius Tullius; to continue the old distinctions was but provoking a renewal of the old hostility.

T. ARNOLD

All com

148. LATTER DAYS OF OLIVER CROMWELL. posure of mind was now for ever fled from the Protector: he felt that the grandeur which he had attained with so much guilt and courage, could not ensure him that tranquillity which it belongs to virtue alone and moderation fully to ascertain. Death too, which with such signal intrepidity he had braved in the field, being incessantly threatened by the poignards of fanatical or interested assassins, was ever pre

sent to his terrified apprehension, and haunted him in every scene of business or repose. Each action of his life betrayed the terrors under which he laboured. The aspect of strangers was uneasy to him: with a piercing and anxious eye he surveyed every face to which he was not daily accustomed. He never moved a step without strong guards attending him: he wore armour under his clothes, and farther secured himself by offensive weapons, which he always carried about him. He returned from no place by the direct road, or by the same way which he went. Every journey he performed with hurry and precipitation. Seldom he slept above three nights together in the same chamber: and he never let it be known beforehand what chamber he intended to choose, nor intrusted himself in any which was not provided with back doors, at which sentinels were carefully placed. Society terrified him, while he reflected on his numerous, unknown, and implacable enemies: solitude astonished him, by withdrawing that protection which he found so necessary for his security.

D. HUME

149. AGRICULTURE. But it was not the splendour flowing from a few families of this sort, that gave such respectability to the Roman plebs. It was their essential character as a body of landholders, such as it is denoted by their Quiritary property. The ancients universally esteemed agriculture to be the proper business for freemen, as well as the proper school for soldiers. The countryman, says Cato, has the fewest evil thoughts. In him the old stock of the nation is preserved: while it changes in cities, where foreign merchants and tradesmen settle, and the natives remove whithersoever gain lures them. In every country where slavery prevails, freedmen seek their livelihood by occupations of this kind, in which they not unfrequently grow wealthy. Thus among the ancients, as in aftertimes, such trades were mostly in the hands of this class, and were therefore thought disreputable to a citizen. Hence the opinion, that admitting the artisans to full civic rights was a hazardous measure and would transform a nation's character. The ancients had no notion of a government carried on with dignity by guilds, such as we see in the history of the towns during the middle ages: and even in them it is undeniable that the military spirit sank as the guilds gained the upper hand of the houses, and that at last it became wholly

extinct; and with it fell the character and the freedom of the towns. At this day the Italian peasants, if proprietors, are a very honest and worthy race and infinitely preferable to the townspeople. Agriculture is their nation's true calling, as a sea-life is that of the Greeks and even of the Neapolitans.

150. ARGUMENT FOR LOVE OF GOD FROM THAT FELT FOR HUMAN PERFECTIONS WHICH ARE UNSEEN. The character of any excellent person, whom we have never seen, will many times engage our hearts and make us hugely concerned in all his interests: and what is it, I pray you, that engages us so much to those with whom we converse? I cannot think that it is merely the colour of their face or their comely proportions; for then we should fall in love with statues and pictures and flowers: these outward accomplishments may a little delight the eye, but would never be able to prevail so much on the heart, if they did not represent some vital perfection. We either see or apprehend some greatness of mind, or vigour of spirit, or sweetness of disposition, some sprightliness or wisdom, or goodness, which charm our spirit and command our love. Now these perfections are not obvious to the sight; the eyes can only discern the signs and effects of them; and if it be the understanding that directs the affection, and vital perfections prevail with it, certainly the excellencies of the divine nature (the traces whereof we cannot but discover in every thing we behold) would not fail to engage our hearts, if we did seriously view and regard them. Shall we not be infinitely more transported with that almighty wisdom and goodness which fills the universe, and displays itself in all the parts of the creation, which establisheth the frame of nature, and turneth the mighty wheels of providence, and keepeth the world from disorder and ruin, than with the faint rays of the very same perfections which we meet with in our fellowcreatures? Shall we dote on the scattered pieces of a rude and imperfect picture, and never be affected with the original beauty? This were an unaccountable stupidity and blindness: whatever we find lovely in a friend or in a saint ought not to engross but to elevate our affection; we should conclude with ourselves, that if there be so much sweetness in a drop, there must be infinitely more in the fountain; if there be so much splendour in a ray, what must the sun be in its glory? JEREMY TAYLOR

151. LIFE AND DEATH. It seems to me a strange, and a thing much to be marveiled, that the laborer, to repose himself, hasteneth as it were the course of the sun: that the mariner rowes with all force to attain the port, and with a joyfull crie salutes the descried land: that the traveller is never content nor quiet till he be at the end of his voyage: and that we, in the meanwhile, tied in this world to a perpetual taske, tossed with continual tempest, tyred with a rough and combersome way, yet cannot see the end of our labour but with grief, nor behold our port but with teares, nor approach our home and quiet abode but with horrour and trembling. This life is but a Penelope's web, wherein we are always doing and undoing; a sea open to all winds; a weary journey thro' extreme heats and colds; over high mountains, steep rocks, and thievish deserts; and so we terme it, in weaving at this web, in rowing at this oar, in passing this miserable way. Yet loe, when death comes to end our worke; when she stretcheth out her armes to pull us into the port, when after so many dangerous passages she would conduct us to our true home and resting place; instead of rejoycing at the end of our labour, of taking comfort at the sight of our land, of singing at the approch of our happy mansion; we would faine retake our worke in hand; we would again hoise sail to the wind, and willingley undertake our journey anew. We fear more the cure than the disease: the surgeon, than the paine. We have more sense of the medicine's bitterness, sooner gone, than of a bitter languishing, long continued; more feeling of death, the end of our miseries, than the endlesse miserie of our life. We fear that we ought to hope for, and wish that we ought to fear. MARY COUNTESS OF PEMBROKE

152. THE DANGER OF PROCRASTINATION. I am glad that you approve and applaud my design of withdrawing myself from all tumult and business of the world, and consecrating the little rest of my time to those studies to which nature had so motherly inclined me, and from which fortune, like a step-mother, has so long detained me. But, nevertheless (you say) which but is aerugo mera, a rust which spoils the good metal it grows upon. But (you say) you would advise me not to precipitate that resolution, but to stay a while longer with patience and complaisance, till I had gotten such an estate as might afford me (according to the saying

of that person whom you and I love very much and would believe as soon as another man) cum dignitate otium. This were excellent advice to Joshua, who could bid the sun stay too. But there is no fooling with life, when it is once turned beyond forty: the seeking for a fortune then is but a desperate after-game; 'tis a hundred to one if a man fling two sixes and recover all; especially if his hand be no luckier than mine.

A. COWLEY

153. THE VIRTUE OF A COMMANDER. The commander also must be of repute, so that the soldiers may be confident of his wisdom: and they shall always be so, when they perceive him to be a man orderly, careful, and courageous, and that maintains well and with esteem the majesty of his dignity: and he shall always be able to do so, while he punisheth their faults, while he tires not out the soldiers to no purpose, keeps his word with them, shews them an easy way to vanquish the enemy; those things that may endanger them, conceals from them; or if they be evident, by his speeches lessens their opinion of them: which things well observed are a great occasion of confidence in the army. And the Romans used moreover to make their armies thus confident by way of religion: from hence proceeded, that by their soothsayings and auspices they created their consuls, they levied their soldiers, marched with their armies and fought their battles; and without having done some of these things, never would a good or discreet commander have put anything to hazard, deeming that he might easily lose, unless his soldiers had first understood that the gods were on their side. And when any consul or captain of theirs should have fought contrary to the auspices, they would have punished him, as they did Claudius Pulcher.

SIR W. TEMPLE

154. CHARACTER OF JOHN HAMPDEN. He was of that rare affability and temper in debate, and of that seeming humility and submission of judgment, as if he brought no opinions of his own with him, but a desire of information and instruction; yet he had so subtle a way of interrogating, and under the notions of doubt insinuating his objections, that he left his opinions with those from whom he pretended to learn and receive them. And even with them who were able to pre