Once more before him stood. Half killed with anger and surprise, Soon, do you call it?" Death replies : And you are now fourscore." "So much the worse," the clown rejoined, "To spare the aged would be kind; Besides, you promised me three warnings, Which I have looked for nights and mornings But for that loss of time and ease, I can recover damages.” "I know," cries Death, "that at the best, I seldom am a welcome guest; Yet there's some comfort still," says Death I warrant you hear all the news." "There's none,” cries he, " and if there were I'm grown so deaf I could not hear." "Nay, then," the spectre stern rejoined, These are unjustifiable yearnings: If you are lame, and deaf, and blind, MRS. THRALE. 105. On Study. STUDIES serve for delight, for ornament, and for ability. Their chief use for delight, is for privateness and retiring;. for ornament, is in discourse; and for ability, is in the judgment and disposition of business. For expert men can execute, and perhaps judge of, particulars one by one; but the general counsels, and the plots, and marshalling of affairs, come best from those that are learned. To spend too much time in studies is sloth; to use them too much for ornament is affectation; to make judgment wholly by their rules is the humor of a scholar. They perfect nature, and are perfected by experience; for natural abilities require study, as natural plants need pruning; and studies themselves do give forth directions too much at large, except they be bounded in by experience. Crafty men contemn studies, simple men admire them, and wise men use them; for studies teach not their own use this wise men learn by observation. Read not to contradict and refute, not to believe and take for granted, but to weigh and consider. Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested; that is, some books are to be read only in part; others to be read, but not curiously; and some few to be read wholly, and with diligence and attention. Some books also may be read by deputy, or extracts of them may be made by others; but that should be only in the less important arguments, and the meaner sort of books; else distilled books are like common distilled waters -flashy things. Reading maketh a full man, conference a ready man, and writing an exact man. And therefore, if a man write little, he had need have a present wit; and if he read little, he had need have much cunning, to seem to know that he doth not BACON. 106. The Passions. WHEN Music, heavenly maid, was young, From the supporting myrtles round They snatched her instruments of sound, Sweet lessons of her forceful art, Each for madness ruled the hour Would prove his own expressive power. First Fear his hand, its skill to try, Next Anger rushed; his eyes, on fire, In lightnings owned his secret stings; In one rude clash he struck the lyre, With woful measures, wan Despair Low, sullen sounds his grief beguiled; But thou, O Hope, with eyes so fair, Still it whispered promised pleasure, And from the rocks, the woods, the vale, She called on Echo still through all the song; And where her sweetest theme she chose, A soft, responsive voice was heard at every close; And Hope, enchanted, smiled, and waved her golden hair And longer had she sung-but, with a frown, He threw his blood-stained sword in thunder down, The war-denouncing trumpet took, And blew a blast so loud and dread, The doubling drum with furious heat; And though sometimes, each dreary pause between, Her soul-subduing voice applied, Yet still he kept his wild, unaltered mien, While each strained ball of sight seemed bursting from his head. Thy numbers, Jealousy, to nought were fixed Sad proof of thy distressful state: Of differing themes the veering song was mixed; And now it courted Love; now, raving, called on Hate. With eyes upraised, as one inspired, Pale Melancholy sat retired, And from her wild, sequestered seat, In notes by distance made more sweet, Poured through the mellow horn her pensive soul; Through glades and glooms the mingled measure stole, Or o'er some haunted streams with fond delay, — Love of peace, and lonely musing, In hollow murmurs died away. But, O, how altered was its sprightlier tone, When Cheerfulness, a nymph of healthiest hue, Her bow across her shoulder flung, Her buskins gemmed with morning dew, Blew an inspiring air, that dale and thicket rung! - The oak-crowned sisters, and their chaste-eyed queen, Peeping from forth their alleys green; Brown Exercise rejoiced to hear, And Sport leaped up and seized his beechen spear. Last came Joy's ecstatic trial: He, with viny crown advancing, First to the lively pipe his hand addressed; |