101:008;00@@@@@|
101:008;00['  ]| <SIR*THOMAS*MALORY> 
101:008;00['  ]| <ABOUT 1470> 
101:008;00['  ]| <OF KING*RIENCE> 
101:008;01['  ]| HOW TIDINGS CAME TO$4$ ARTHUR THAT$3$ KING*RIENCE 
101:008;02['  ]| HAD OVERCOME ELEVEN KINGS, AND HOW HE DESIRED 
101:008;03['  ]| ARTHUR'S BEARD TO$9$ TRIM HIS MANTLE.  ~~ This meanwhile 
101:008;04['  ]| came a messenger from King*Rience of North*Wales, 
101:008;05['  ]| and King he was of all Ireland, and of many 
101:008;06['  ]| isles.  And this was his message, greeting well King*Arthur 
101:008;07['  ]| in$4$ this manner wise, saying that$3$ King*Rience 
101:008;08['  ]| had discomfited and overcome eleven kings, and every 
101:008;09['  ]| each of them did him homage, and that$3$ was this, they 
101:008;10['  ]| gave him their beards clean flayed off, as much as there 
101:008;11['  ]| was:  wherefore the messenger came for$4$ King*Arthur's 
101:008;12['  ]| beard.  For$3$ King*Rience had purfled a mantle with 
101:008;13['  ]| kings' beards, and there lacked one place of the mantle; 
101:008;14['  ]| wherefore he sent for$4$ his beard, or else he would enter 
101:008;15['  ]| into his lands, and burn and slay, and never leave till 
101:008;16['  ]| he have the head and the beard.  
101:008;16[A  ]| Well, 
101:008;16['  ]| said Arthur, 
101:008;17[A  ]| thou hast said thy message, the which$6#1$ is the most 
101:008;18[A  ]| villainous and lewdest message that$6#1$ ever man heard 
101:008;19[A  ]| sent unto a king; also thou mayest see my beard is 
101:008;20[A  ]| full young yet to$9$ make a purfle of it.  But tell thou 
101:008;21[A  ]| thy king this:  I owe him none homage, nor none of 
101:008;22[A  ]| mine elders, but, or it be long too, he shall do me 
101:008;23[A  ]| homage on$4$ both his knees, or else he shall losE his 
101:008;24[A  ]| head, by$4$ the faith of my body, for$3$ this is the most 
101:008;25[A  ]| shamefulest message that$6#1$ ever I heard speak of.  I have 
101:009;01[A  ]| espied thy king met never yet with worshipful man, 
101:009;02[A  ]| but tell him, I will$1$ have his head without he do me 
101:009;03[A  ]| homage.  
101:009;03['  ]| Then the messenger departed.  
101:009;03[A  ]| Now is there 
101:009;04[A  ]| any here, 
101:009;04['  ]| said Arthur, 
101:009;04[A  ]| that$6#1$ knowest King*Rience? 
101:009;05['  ]| Then answered a knight that$6#1$ hight Naram, 
101:009;05[B  ]| Sir, 
101:009;06[B  ]| I know the king well; he is a passing good man of his 
101:009;07[B  ]| body, as few be living, and a passing proud man, and 
101:009;08[B  ]| Sir, doubt ye not he will$1$ make war on$4$ you with a 
101:009;09[B  ]| mighty puissance.  
101:009;09[A  ]| Well, 
101:009;09['  ]| said Arthur, 
101:009;09[A  ]| I shall ordain 
101:009;10[A  ]| for$4$ him in$4$ short time.  ~~ <\9Le 9Morte 9D'Arthur.\ >
102:009;00['  ]| <OF BALIN AND BALAN> 
102:009;11['  ]| HOW BALIN MET WITH HIS BROTHER BALAN, AND HOW 
102:009;12['  ]| EACH OF THEM SLEW OTHER UNKNOWN, TILL THEY WERE 
102:009;13['  ]| WOUNDED TO$4$ DEATH.  ~~  Then afore him he saw come 
102:009;14['  ]| riding out of a castle a knight, and his horse trapped all 
102:009;15['  ]| red, and himself in$4$ the same colour.  When this knight 
102:009;16['  ]| in$4$ the red beheld Balin him thought it should be his 
102:009;17['  ]| brother Balin by$4$ cause of his two swords, but by$4$ cause 
102:009;18['  ]| he knew not his shield he deemd it was not he.  And 
102:009;19['  ]| so$3$ they atventryd their spears and came marvellously 
102:009;20['  ]| fast together, and they smote each other in$4$ the shields, 
102:009;21['  ]| but their spears and their course were so$5#1$ big that$3$ it 
102:009;22['  ]| bare down horse and man that$3$ they lay both in$4$ a swoon. 
102:009;23['  ]| But Balin was bruised sore with the fall of his horse, 
102:009;24['  ]| for$3$ he was weary of travel.  And Balan was the first 
102:009;25['  ]| that$6#1$ rose on$4$ foot and drew his sword, and went toward 
102:009;26['  ]| Balin, and he arose and went against him; but Balan 
102:009;27['  ]| smote Balin first, and he put up$5$ his shield and smote 
102:009;28['  ]| him through the shield and tamyd his helm.  Then 
102:009;29['  ]| Balin smote him again with that$6#2$ unhappy sword, and 
102:009;30['  ]| well nigh had felled his brother Balan, and so$3$ they 
102:009;31['  ]| fought together till their breaths failed.  Then Balin 
102:009;32['  ]| looked up$5$ to$4$ the castle and saw the towers stand full 
102:009;33['  ]| of ladies.  So$3$ they went unto battle again, and wounded 
102:009;34['  ]| each other dolefully, and then they breathed ofttimes, 
102:010;01['  ]| and so$3$ went unto battle that$3$ all the place there as they 
102:010;02['  ]| fought was blood red.  And at that$6#2$ time there was 
102:010;03['  ]| none of them both but they had either smitten other 
102:010;04['  ]| seven great wounds, so$3$ that$3$ the least of them might 
102:010;05['  ]| have been the death of the mightiest giant in$4$ this world. 
102:010;06['  ]| Then they went to$4$ battle again so$5#1$ marvellously that$3$ 
102:010;07['  ]| doubte it was to$9$ hear of that$6#2$ battle for$4$ the great blood 
102:010;08['  ]| shedding, and their hauberks unnailed that$3$ naked they 
102:010;09['  ]| were on$4$ every side.  At last Balan the younger brother 
102:010;10['  ]| withdrew him a little and laid him down.  Then said 
102:010;11['  ]| Balin*le*Savage, 
102:010;11[C  ]| What knight art thou?  for$3$ or now I 
102:010;12[C  ]| found never no$2$ knight that$6#1$ matched me.  
102:010;12[D  ]| My name 
102:010;13[D  ]| is, 
102:010;13['  ]| said he, 
102:010;13[D  ]| Balan, brother unto the good knight Balin. 
102:010;14[C  ]| Alas, 
102:010;14['  ]| said Balin, 
102:010;14[C  ]| that$3$ ever I should see this day, 
102:010;14['  ]| and 
102:010;15['  ]| therewith he fell backward in$4$ a swoon.  Then Balan 
102:010;16['  ]| yede on$4$ all four feet and hands, and put off the helm 
102:010;17['  ]| of his brother, and might not know him by$4$ the visage 
102:010;18['  ]| it was so$5#1$ ful hewen and bledde; but when he awoke 
102:010;19['  ]| he said, 
102:010;19[C  ]| O, Balan, my brother, thou hast slain me 
102:010;20[C  ]| and I thee, wherefore all the wide world shall speak of 
102:010;21[C  ]| us both.  
102:010;21[D  ]| Alas, 
102:010;21['  ]| said Balan, 
102:010;21[D  ]| that$3$ ever I saw this day, 
102:010;22[D  ]| that$3$ through mishap I might not know you, for$3$ I 
102:010;23[D  ]| espied well your two swords, but by$4$ cause ye had 
102:010;24[D  ]| another shield I deemed ye had been another knight. 
102:010;25[C  ]| Alas, 
102:010;25['  ]| said Balin, 
102:010;25[C  ]| all that$6#2$ made an unhappy knight in$4$ 
102:010;26[C  ]| the castle, for$3$ he caused me to$9$ leave my own shield to$4$ 
102:010;27[C  ]| our both's destruction, and if I might live I would 
102:010;28[C  ]| destroy that$6#2$ castle for$4$ ill customs.  
102:010;28[D  ]| That$6#2$ were well 
102:010;29[D  ]| done, 
102:010;29['  ]| said Balan, 
102:010;29[D  ]| for$3$ I had never grace to$9$ depart from 
102:010;30[D  ]| them syne that$3$ I came hither, for$3$ here it happed me to$9$ 
102:010;31[D  ]| slay a knight that$6#1$ kept this island, and syne might I 
102:010;32[D  ]| never depart, and no$2$ more should ye, brother, an ye 
102:010;33[D  ]| might have slain me as you have, and escaped yourself 
102:010;34[D  ]| with the life.  
102:010;34['  ]| Right so$5#2$ came the lady of the tower 
102:010;35['  ]| with four knights and six ladies and six yeomen unto 
102:010;36['  ]| them, and there she heard how they made their moan 
102:010;37['  ]| either to$4$ other, and said, 
102:010;37[Y  ]| We came both out of one 
102:010;38[Y  ]| tomb, that$6#2$ is to$9$ say, one mother's belly, and so$3$ shall 
102:010;39[Y  ]| we lie both in$4$ one pit.  
102:010;39['  ]| So$3$ Balan prayed the lady of 
102:011;01['  ]| her gentleness, for$4$ his true service, that$3$ she would bury 
102:011;02['  ]| them both in$4$ that$6#2$ same place where the battle was 
102:011;03['  ]| done.  And she granted them with weeping it should 
102:011;04['  ]| be done richly in$4$ the best manner.  
102:011;04[D  ]| Now, will$1$ ye send 
102:011;05[D  ]| for$4$ a priest, that$3$ we may receive our sacrament, and 
102:011;06[D  ]| receive the blessed body of our Lord*Jesus*Christ? 
102:011;07[E  ]| Yea, 
102:011;07['  ]| said the lady, 
102:011;07[E  ]| it shall be done; 
102:011;07['  ]| and so$3$ she sent 
102:011;08['  ]| for$4$ a priest and gave them their rites.  
102:011;08[C  ]| Now, 
102:011;08['  ]| said 
102:011;09['  ]| Balin, 
102:011;09[C  ]| when we are buried in$4$ one tomb, and the 
102:011;10[C  ]| mention made over us how two brethren slew each 
102:011;11[C  ]| other, there will$1$ never good knight nor good man see 
102:011;12[C  ]| our tomb but they will$1$ pray for$4$ our souls.  
102:011;12['  ]| And so$3$ all 
102:011;13['  ]| the ladies and gentlewomen wept for$4$ pity.  Then anon 
102:011;14['  ]| Balan died, but Balin died not till the midnight after, 
102:011;15['  ]| and so$3$ were they buried both, and the lady let make 
102:011;16['  ]| a mention of Balan how he was there slain by$4$ his 
102:011;17['  ]| brother's hands, but she knew not Balin's name. 
102:011;18['  ]| HOW MERLIN BURIED THEM BOTH IN$4$ ONE TOMB, 
102:011;19['  ]| AND OF BALIN'S SWORD.  ~~  In$4$ the morning came Merlin 
102:011;20['  ]| and let write Balin's name on$4$ the tomb with letters 
102:011;21['  ]| of gold, that$3$ 
102:011;21[Z  ]| here lieth Balin*le*Savage that$6#1$ was the 
102:011;22[Z  ]| knight with the two swords, and he that$6#1$ smote the 
102:011;23[Z  ]| dolorous stroke.  
102:011;23['  ]| Also Merlin let make there a bed, 
102:011;24['  ]| that$3$ there should never man lie therein but he went 
102:011;25['  ]| out of his wit, yet Launcelot*de*Lake fordyd that$6#2$ bed 
102:011;26['  ]| through his noblesse.  And anon after Balin was dead, 
102:011;27['  ]| Merlin took his sword, and took off the pommel and 
102:011;28['  ]| set on$4$ another pommel.  So$3$ Merlin bad a knight that$6#1$ 
102:011;29['  ]| stood afore him handle that$6#2$ sword, and he assayed, and 
102:011;30['  ]| he might not handle it.  Then Merlin laughed.  
102:011;30[F  ]| Why 
102:011;31[F  ]| laugh ye?  
102:011;31['  ]| said the knight.  
102:011;31[G  ]| This is the cause, 
102:011;31['  ]| said 
102:011;32['  ]| Merlin:  
102:011;32[G  ]| there shall never man handle this sword but 
102:011;33[G  ]| the best knight of the world, and that$6#2$ shall be Sir*Launcelot 
102:011;34[G  ]| or else Galahad his son, and Launcelot with 
102:011;35[G  ]| this sword shall slay the man that$6#1$ in$4$ the world he loved 
102:011;36[G  ]| best, that$6#2$ shall be Sir*Gawaine.  
102:011;36['  ]| All this he let write 
102:011;37['  ]| in$4$ the pommel of the sword.  Then Merlin let make a 
102:011;38['  ]| bridge of iron and of steel into that$6#2$ island, and it was 
102:011;39['  ]| but half a foot broad, and there shall never man pass 
102:012;01['  ]| that$6#2$ bridge, nor have hardiness to$9$ go over but if he 
102:012;02['  ]| were a passing good man and a good knight without 
102:012;03['  ]| treachery or villany.  Also the scabbard of Balin's 
102:012;04['  ]| sword Merlin left it on$4$ this side of the island, that$3$ Galahad 
102:012;05['  ]| should find it.  Also Merlin let make by$4$ his 
102:012;06['  ]| subtlety that$3$ Balin's sword was put in$4$ a marble stone 
102:012;07['  ]| standing upright as great as a mill stone, and the stone 
102:012;08['  ]| hoved always above the water and did many years, 
102:012;09['  ]| and so$3$ by$4$ adventure it swam down the stream to$4$ the 
102:012;10['  ]| City of Camelot, that$6#2$ is in$4$ English*Winchester.  And 
102:012;11['  ]| that$6#2$ same day Galahad the haughty prince came with 
102:012;12['  ]| King*Arthur, and so$3$ Galahad brought with him the 
102:012;13['  ]| scabbard and achieved the sword that$6#1$ was there in$4$ the 
102:012;14['  ]| marble stone hoving upon$4$ the water.  And on$4$ Whitsunday 
102:012;15['  ]| he achieved the sword as it is rehearsed in$4$ the 
102:012;16['  ]| book of Sangreal.  Soon after this was done Merlin 
102:012;17['  ]| came to$4$ King*Arthur and told him of the dolorous 
102:012;18['  ]| stroke that$6#1$ Balin gave to$4$ King*Pellam, and how Balin 
102:012;19['  ]| and Balan fought together the marvellest battle that$6#1$ 
102:012;20['  ]| ever was heard of, and how they were buried both in$4$ 
102:012;21['  ]| one tomb.  
102:012;21[A  ]| Alas, 
102:012;21['  ]| said King*Arthur, 
102:012;21[A  ]| this is the greatest 
102:012;22[A  ]| pity that$3$ ever I heard tell of two knights, for$3$ in$4$ the 
102:012;23[A  ]| world I know not such two knights.  
102:012;23['  ]| Thus endeth the 
102:012;24['  ]| tale of Balin and Balan, two brethren born in$4$ 
102:012;25['  ]| Northumberland, good knights.  ~~ <\9Le 9Morte 9D'Arthur.\ >
103:012;00['  ]| <OF GUENEVER> 
103:012;26['  ]| HOW KING*ARTHUR TOOK A WIFE AND WEDDED 
103:012;27['  ]| GUENEVER, DAUGHTER TO$4$ LEODEGRANCE, KING OF THE 
103:012;28['  ]| LAND OF CAMELIARD, WITH WHOM HE HAD THE ROUND 
103:012;29['  ]| TABLE.  ~~ In$4$ the beginning of Arthur, after he was chosen 
103:012;30['  ]| king by$4$ adventure and by$4$ grace, for$4$ the most part the 
103:012;31['  ]| barons knew not that$3$ he was Uther*Pendragon's son, 
103:012;32['  ]| but as Merlin made it openly known.  But yet many 
103:012;33['  ]| kings and lords held great war against him for$4$ that$6#2$ 
103:012;34['  ]| cause, but well Arthur overcame them all; for$4$ the most 
103:013;01['  ]| part of the days of his life he was ruled much by$4$ the 
103:013;02['  ]| counsel of Merlin.  So$3$ it fell on$4$ a time King*Arthur 
103:013;03['  ]| said unto Merlin, 
103:013;03[A  ]| My barons will$1$ let me have no$2$ rest, 
103:013;04[A  ]| but needs I must take a wife, and I will$1$ none take but 
103:013;05[A  ]| by$4$ thy counsel and by$4$ thine advice.  
103:013;05[G  ]| It is well done, 
103:013;06['  ]| said Merlin, 
103:013;06[G  ]| that$3$ ye take a wife, for$3$ a man of your 
103:013;07[G  ]| bounty and noblesse should not be without a wife.  Now 
103:013;08[G  ]| is there any that$6#1$ ye love more than another?  
103:013;08[A  ]| Yea, 
103:013;09['  ]| said King*Arthur, 
103:013;09[A  ]| I love Guenever, the king's daughter, 
103:013;10[A  ]| Leodegrance of the land of Cameliard, the which$6#1$ holdeth 
103:013;11[A  ]| in$4$ his house the Table*Round that$6#1$ ye told he had of 
103:013;12[A  ]| my father Uther.  And this damosel is the most valiant 
103:013;13[A  ]| and fairest lady that$6#1$ I know living, or yet that$6#1$ ever I 
103:013;14[A  ]| could find.  
103:013;14[G  ]| Sir, 
103:013;14['  ]| said Merlin, 
103:013;14[G  ]| as of her beauty and 
103:013;15[G  ]| fairness she is one of the fairest on$4$ live; but, an ye 
103:013;16[G  ]| loved her not so$5#1$ well as ye do, I should find you a 
103:013;17[G  ]| damosel of beauty and of goodness that$6#1$ should like$1$ you 
103:013;18[G  ]| and please you, an your heart were not set; but there 
103:013;19[G  ]| as a man's heart is set, he will$1$ be loth to$9$ return.  
103:013;19[A  ]| That$6#2$ 
103:013;20[A  ]| is truth, 
103:013;20['  ]| said King*Arthur.  But Merlin warned the 
103:013;21['  ]| king covertly that$3$ Guenever was not wholesome for$4$ him 
103:013;22['  ]| to$9$ take to$4$ wife, for$3$ he warned him that$3$ Launcelot 
103:013;23['  ]| should love her, and she him again; and so$3$ he turned 
103:013;24['  ]| his tale to$4$ the adventures of Sangreal.  Then  Merlin 
103:013;25['  ]| desired of the king for$3$ to$9$ have men with him that$6#1$ 
103:013;26['  ]| should enquire of Guenever, and so$3$ the king granted 
103:013;27['  ]| him, and Merlin went forth unto King*Leodegrance, of 
103:013;28['  ]| Cameliard, and told him of the desire of the king that$3$ 
103:013;29['  ]| he would have unto his wife Guenever his daughter. 
103:013;30[H  ]| That$6#2$ is to$4$ me, 
103:013;30['  ]| said King*Leogrance, 
103:013;30[H  ]| the best tidings 
103:013;31[H  ]| that$6#1$ ever I heard, that$3$ so$5#1$ worthy a king of prowess and 
103:013;32[H  ]| noblesse will$1$ wed my daughter.  And as for$4$ my lands, 
103:013;33[H  ]| I will$1$ give him, wist I it might please him, but he hath 
103:013;34[H  ]| lands enow, him needeth none, but I shall send him a 
103:013;35[H  ]| gift shall please him much more, for$3$ I shall give him 
103:013;36[H  ]| the Table*Round, the which$6#1$ Uther*Pendragon gave me, 
103:013;37[H  ]| and when it is full complete, there is an hundred 
103:013;38[H  ]| knights and fifty.  And as for$4$ an hundred good knights 
103:013;39[H  ]| I have myself, but I fawte fifty, for$3$ so$5#1$ many have 
103:014;01[H  ]| been slain in$4$ my days.  
103:014;01['  ]| And so$3$ Leodegrance delivered 
103:014;02['  ]| his daughter Guenever unto Merlin, and the Table*Round 
103:014;03['  ]| with the hundred knights, and so$3$ they rode 
103:014;04['  ]| freshly, with great royalty, what by$4$ water and what 
103:014;05['  ]| by$4$ land, till they came nigh unto London.  ~~ <\9Le 9Morte\ >
103:014;06['  ]| <\9D'Arthur\.>
201:105;00@@@@@|
201:105;00['  ]| <JOHN*BUNYAN> 
201:105;00['  ]| <1628-1688> 
201:105;00['  ]| <VANITY*FAIR> 
201:105;01[I  ]| THEN I SAW in$4$ my dream, that$3$ when they were got 
201:105;02[I  ]| out of the wilderness, they presently saw a town before 
201:105;03[I  ]| them, and the name of that$6#2$ town is \Vanity\; and at the 
201:105;04[I  ]| town there is a fair kept, called \Vanity*Fair\:  it is kept 
201:105;05[I  ]| all the year long; it beareth the name of \Vanity*Fair\, 
201:105;06[I  ]| because the town where it is kept is lighter than 
201:105;07[I  ]| vanity; and also because all that$6#1$ is there sold, or that$6#1$ 
201:105;08[I  ]| cometh thither, is vanity.  As is the saying of the 
201:105;09[I  ]| wise, \all that$6#1$ cometh is vanity\. 
201:105;10[I  ]| This fair is no$2$ new-erected business, but a thing of 
201:105;11[I  ]| ancient standing; I will$1$ shew you the original of it. 
201:105;12['  ]| Almost five thousand years agone, there were pilgrims 
201:105;13['  ]| walking to$4$ the \Celestial*City\, as these two honest persons 
201:105;14['  ]| are:  and \Beelzebub, Apollyon\, and \Legion\, with their 
201:105;15['  ]| companions, perceiving by$4$ the path that$6#1$ the pilgrims 
201:105;16['  ]| made, that$3$ their way to$4$ the city lay through this town 
201:105;17['  ]| of \Vanity\, they contrived here to$9$ set up$5$ a fair; a fair 
201:105;18['  ]| wherein should be sold all sorts of vanity, and that$3$ it 
201:105;19['  ]| should last all the year long:  therefore at this fair 
201:106;01['  ]| are all such merchandise sold, as houses, lands, trades, 
201:106;02['  ]| places, honours, preferments, titles, countries, kingdoms, 
201:106;03['  ]| lusts, pleasures, and delights of all sorts, as 
201:106;04['  ]| whores, bawds, wives, husbands, children, masters, 
201:106;05['  ]| servants, lives, blood, bodies, souls, silver, gold, pearls, 
201:106;06['  ]| precious stones, and what not. 
201:106;07['  ]| And, moreover, at this fair there is at all times to$9$ be 
201:106;08['  ]| seen juggling cheats, games, plays, fools, apes, knaves, 
201:106;09['  ]| and rogues, and that$6#2$ of every kind. 
201:106;10['  ]| Here are to$9$ be seen, too, and that$6#2$ for$4$ nothing, thefts, 
201:106;11['  ]| murders, adulteries, false swearers, and that$6#2$ of a blood-red 
201:106;12['  ]| colour. 
201:106;13['  ]| And, as in$4$ other fairs of less moment, there are the 
201:106;14['  ]| several rows and streets, under their proper names, 
201:106;15['  ]| where such and such wares are vended; so$3$ here likewise 
201:106;16['  ]| you have the proper places, rows, streets, (viz%, 
201:106;17['  ]| countries and kingdoms,) where the wares of this fair 
201:106;18['  ]| are soonest to$9$ be found.  Here is the \Britain*Row\, the 
201:106;19['  ]| \French*Row\, the \Italian*Row\, the \Spanish*Row\, the 
201:106;20['  ]| \German*Row\, where several sorts of vanities are to$9$ be 
201:106;21['  ]| sold.  But, as in$4$ other fairs, some one commodity is 
201:106;22['  ]| as the chief of all the fair, so$3$ the ware of \Rome\, and her 
201:106;23['  ]| merchandise is greatly promoted in$4$ this fair; only our 
201:106;24['  ]| \English\ nation, with some others, have taken a dislike 
201:106;25['  ]| thereat. 
201:106;26['  ]| Now, 
201:106;26[I  ]| as I said, 
201:106;26['  ]| the way to$4$ the \Celestial*City\ lies just 
201:106;27['  ]| through this town where this lusty fair is kept; and 
201:106;28['  ]| he that$6#1$ will$1$ go to$4$ the city, and yet not got through this 
201:106;29['  ]| town, must needs \go out of the world\.  The Prince of 
201:106;30['  ]| princes himself, when here, went through this town to$4$ 
201:106;31['  ]| his own country, and that$6#2$ upon$4$ a fair day too; yea, 
201:106;32['  ]| and 
201:106;32[I  ]| as I think, 
201:106;32['  ]| it was \Beelzebub\, the chief lord of this 
201:106;33['  ]| fair, that$6#1$ invited him to$9$ buy of his vanities; yea, 
201:106;34['  ]| would have made him lord of the fair, would he but 
201:106;35['  ]| have done him reverence as he went through the town. 
201:106;36['  ]| Yea, beacause he was such a person of honour, \Beelzebub\ 
201:106;37['  ]| had him from street to$4$ street, and showed him all the 
201:106;38['  ]| kingdoms of the world in$4$ a little time, that$3$ he might, 
201:106;39['  ]| if possible, allure the Blessed*One to$9$ cheapen and 
201:106;40['  ]| buy some of his vanities; but he had no$2$ mind to$4$ the 
201:107;01['  ]| merchandise, and therefore left the town, without laying 
201:107;02['  ]| out so$5#1$ much as one farthing upon$4$ these vanities. 
201:107;03['  ]| This fair, therefore, is an ancient thing, of long standing, 
201:107;04['  ]| and a very great fair.  Now these pilgrims, 
201:107;04[I  ]| as I 
201:107;05[I  ]| said, 
201:107;05['  ]| must needs go through this fair.  Well, so$5#2$ they 
201:107;06['  ]| did:  but, behold, even as they entered into the fair, 
201:107;07['  ]| all the people in$4$ the fair were moved, and the town 
201:107;08['  ]| itself as it were in$4$ a hubbub about them; and that$3$ for$4$ 
201:107;09['  ]| several reasons:  for$3$ ~~ 
201:107;10['  ]| \First\, The pilgrims were clothed with such kind of 
201:107;11['  ]| raiment as was diverse from the raiment of any that$6#1$ 
201:107;12['  ]| traded in$4$ that$6#2$ fair.  The people therefore, of the fair, 
201:107;13['  ]| made a great gazing upon$4$ them:  some said they were 
201:107;14['  ]| fools, some they were bedlams, and some they are 
201:107;15['  ]| outlandish men. 
201:107;16['  ]| \Secondly\, And as they wondered at their apparel, so$3$ 
201:107;17['  ]| they did likewise at their speech; for$3$ few could understand 
201:107;18['  ]| what they said; they naturally spoke the language 
201:107;19['  ]| of Canaan, but they that$6#1$ kept the fair were the men of 
201:107;20['  ]| this world; so$3$ that$3$, from one end of the fair to$4$ the 
201:107;21['  ]| other, they seemed barbarians each to$4$ the other. 
201:107;22['  ]| \Thirdly\, But that$6#2$ which$6#1$ did not a little amuse the 
201:107;23['  ]| merchandisers was, that$3$ these pilgrims set very light 
201:107;24['  ]| by$4$ all their wares; they cared not so$5#1$ much as to$9$ look 
201:107;25['  ]| upon$4$ them; and if they called upon$4$ them to$9$ buy, they 
201:107;26['  ]| would put their fingers in$4$ their ears, and cry, \Turn\ 
201:107;27['  ]| \away mine eyes from beholding vanity\, and look upwards, 
201:107;28['  ]| signifying that$3$ their trade and traffic was in$4$ heaven. 
201:107;29['  ]| One chanced mockingly, beholding the carriage of 
201:107;30['  ]| the men, to$9$ say unto them, 
201:107;30[X  ]| What will$1$ ye buy?  
201:107;30['  ]| But 
201:107;31['  ]| they, looking gravely upon$4$ him, answered, 
201:107;31[Y  ]| \We buy the\ 
201:107;32[Y  ]| \truth\.  
201:107;32['  ]| At that$6#2$ there was an occasion taken to$9$ despise 
201:107;33['  ]| the men the more; some mocking, some taunting, 
201:107;34['  ]| some speaking reproachfully, and some calling upon$4$ 
201:107;35['  ]| others to$9$ smite them.  At last things came to$4$ a 
201:107;36['  ]| hubbub and great stir in$4$ the fair, insomuch that$3$ all 
201:107;37['  ]| order was confounded.  Now was word presently 
201:107;38['  ]| brought to$4$ the great one of the fair, who$6#1$ quickly came 
201:107;39['  ]| down, and deputed some of his most trusty friends to$9$ 
201:107;40['  ]| take these men into examination, about whom the fair 
201:108;01['  ]| was almost overturned.  So$3$ the men were brought to$4$ 
201:108;02['  ]| examination; and they that$6#1$ sat upon$4$ them, asked 
201:108;03['  ]| them whence they came, whither they went, and what 
201:108;04['  ]| they did there, in$4$ such an unusual garb?  The men 
201:108;05['  ]| told them that$3$ they were pilgrims and strangers in$4$ the 
201:108;06['  ]| world, and they they were going to$4$ their own country, 
201:108;07['  ]| which$6#1$ was the heavenly \Jerusalem\, and that$3$ they had 
201:108;08['  ]| given no$2$ occasion to$4$ the men of the town, nor yet to$4$ 
201:108;09['  ]| the merchandisers, thus to$9$ abuse them, and to$9$ let 
201:108;10['  ]| them in$4$ their journey, except it was for$3$ that$3$, when 
201:108;11['  ]| one asked them what they would buy, they said they 
201:108;12['  ]| would buy the truth.  But they that$6#1$ were appointed 
201:108;13['  ]| to$9$ examine them did not believe them to$9$ be any other 
201:108;14['  ]| than bedlams and mad, or else such as came to$9$ put all 
201:108;15['  ]| things into a confusion in$4$ the fair.  Therefore they 
201:108;16['  ]| took them and beat them, and besmeared them with 
201:108;17['  ]| dirt, and then put them into the cage, that$3$ they might 
201:108;18['  ]| be made a spectacle to$4$ all the men of the fair. 
201:108;19['  ]| Behold \Vanity*Fair!\ the pilgrims there 
201:108;20['  ]| Are chain'd and stand beside: 
201:108;21['  ]| Even so$5#2$ it was our Lord pass'd here, 
201:108;22['  ]| And on$4$ Mount*Calvary died. 
201:108;23['  ]| There, therefore, they lay for$4$ some time, and were 
201:108;24['  ]| made the objects of any man's sport, or malice, or 
201:108;25['  ]| revenge, the great one of the fair laughing still at all 
201:108;26['  ]| that$6#1$ befell them.  But the men being patient, and not 
201:108;27['  ]| rendering railing for$4$ railing, but contrariwise, blessing, 
201:108;28['  ]| and giving good words for$4$ bad, and kindness for$4$ 
201:108;29['  ]| injuries done, some men in$4$ the fair that$6#1$ were more 
201:108;30['  ]| observing, and less prejudiced than the rest, began 
201:108;31['  ]| to$9$ check and blame the baser sort for$4$ their continual 
201:108;32['  ]| abuses done by$4$ them to$4$ the men; they, therefore, in$4$ 
201:108;33['  ]| angry manner, let fly at them again, counting them 
201:108;34['  ]| as bad as the men in$4$ the cage, and telling  them that$3$ 
201:108;35['  ]| they seemed confederates, and should be made partakers 
201:108;36['  ]| of their misfortunes.  The other replied that$3$, 
201:108;37['  ]| for$4$ aught they could see, the men were quiet, and 
201:108;38['  ]| sober, and intended nobody any harm; and that$3$ there 
201:109;01['  ]| were many that$6#1$ traded in$4$ their fair that$6#1$ were more 
201:109;02['  ]| worthy to$9$ be put into the cage, yea, and pillory too, 
201:109;03['  ]| than were the men they had abused. Thus, after
201:109;04['  ]| divers words had passed on$4$ both sides, the men 
201:109;05['  ]| behaving themselves all the while very wisely and 
201:109;06['  ]| soberly before them, they fell to$4$ some blows among 
201:109;07['  ]| themselves, and did harm one to$4$ another.  Then were 
201:109;08['  ]| these two poor men brought before their examiners 
201:109;09['  ]| again, and there charged as being guilty of the late 
201:109;10['  ]| hubbub that$6#1$ had been in$4$ the fair.  So$3$ they beat them 
201:109;11['  ]| pitifully, and hanged irons upon$4$ them, and led them 
201:109;12['  ]| in$4$ chains up$4$ and down the fair, for$4$ an example and 
201:109;13['  ]| a terror to$4$ others, lest any should speak in$4$ their behalf, 
201:109;14['  ]| or join themselves unto them.  But \Christian\ 
201:109;15['  ]| and \Faithful\ behaved themselves yet more wisely, and 
201:109;16['  ]| received the ignominy and shame that$6#1$ was cast upon$4$ 
201:109;17['  ]| them, with so$5#1$ much meekness and patience, that$3$ it 
201:109;18['  ]| won to$4$ their side, though but few in$4$ comparison of 
201:109;19['  ]| the rest, several of the men in$4$ the fair.  This put the 
201:109;20['  ]| other party yet into greater rage, insomuch that$3$ they 
201:109;21['  ]| concluded the death of these two men.  Wherefore 
201:109;22['  ]| they threatened, that$3$ the cage nor irons should serve 
201:109;23['  ]| their turn, but that$3$ they should die, for$4$ the abuse they 
201:109;24['  ]| had done, and for$4$ deluding the men of the fair. 
201:109;25['  ]| Then were they remanded to$4$ the cage again, until 
201:109;26['  ]| further order should be taken with them.  So$3$ they 
201:109;27['  ]| put them in$5$, and made their feet fast in$4$ the stocks. 
201:109;28['  ]| Here, therefore, they called again to$4$ mind what 
201:109;29['  ]| they had heard from their faithful friend \Evangelist\, 
201:109;30['  ]| and were the more confirmed in$4$ their way and 
201:109;31['  ]| sufferings by$4$ what he told them would happen to$4$ 
201:109;32['  ]| them.  They also now comforted each other, that$3$ 
201:109;33['  ]| whose lot it was to$9$ suffer, even he should have the 
201:109;34['  ]| best of it; therefore each man secretly wished that$3$ he 
201:109;35['  ]| might have that$6#2$ preferment:  but committing themselves 
201:109;36['  ]| to$4$ the all-wise disposal of Him that$6#1$ ruleth all 
201:109;37['  ]| things, with much content, they abode in$4$ the condition 
201:109;38['  ]| in$4$ which$6#1$ they were, until they should be otherwise disposed 
201:109;39['  ]| of. 
201:109;40['  ]| Then a convenient time being appointed, they brought 
201:110;01['  ]| them forth to$4$ their trial, in$4$ order to$4$ their condemnation. 
201:110;02['  ]| When the time was come, they were brought before 
201:110;03['  ]| their enemies and arraigned.  The judge's name was 
201:110;04['  ]| Lord*Hate-good.  Their indictment was one and the 
201:110;05['  ]| same in$4$ substance, though somewhat varying in$4$ form, 
201:110;06['  ]| the contents whereof were this: ~~ 
201:110;07['  ]| ""That$3$ they were enemies to$4$ and disturbers of their 
201:110;08['  ]| trade; that$3$ they had made commotions and divisions 
201:110;09['  ]| in$4$ the town, and had won a party to$4$ their own most 
201:110;10['  ]| dangerous opinions, in$4$ contempt of the law of their 
201:110;11['  ]| prince."" 
201:110;12['  ]| Now, \Faithful\, play the man, speak for$4$ thy God: 
201:110;13['  ]| Fear not the wickeds' malice, nor their rod! 
201:110;14['  ]| Speak boldly, man, the truth is on$4$ thy side: 
201:110;15['  ]| Die for$4$ it, and to$4$ life in$4$ triumph ride. 
201:110;16['  ]| Then \Faithful\ began to$9$ answer, that$3$ he had only set 
201:110;17['  ]| himself against that$6#2$ which$6#1$ hath set itself against Him 
201:110;18['  ]| that$6#1$ is higher than the highest.  And, said he, as for$4$ 
201:110;19['  ]| disturbance, I make none, being myself a man of peace; 
201:110;20['  ]| the parties that$6#1$ were won to$4$ us, were won by$4$ beholding 
201:110;21['  ]| our truth and innocence, and they are only turned from 
201:110;22['  ]| the worse to$4$ the better.  And as to$4$ the king you talk 
201:110;23['  ]| of, since he is \Beelzebub\, the enemy of our Lord, I defy 
201:110;24['  ]| him and all his angels. 
201:110;25['  ]| The proclamation was made, that$3$ they that$6#1$ had 
201:110;26['  ]| aught to$9$ say for$4$ their lord the king against the prisoner 
201:110;27['  ]| at the bar, should forthwith appear and give in$5$ their 
201:110;28['  ]| evidence.  So$3$ there came in$5$ three witnesses, to$4$ wit, 
201:110;29['  ]| \Envy, Superstition\, and \Pickthank\.  They were then 
201:110;30['  ]| asked if they knew the prisoner at the bar; and what 
201:110;31['  ]| they had to$9$ say for$4$ their lord the king against him. 
201:110;32['  ]| Then stood forth \Envy\, and said to$4$ this effect:  
201:110;32[J  ]| My 
201:110;33[J  ]| Lord, I have known this man a long time, and will$1$ 
201:110;34[J  ]| attest upon$4$ my oath before this honourable bench that$3$ 
201:110;35[J  ]| he is ~~ 
201:110;36['  ]| <\Judge.\>  
201:110;36[K  ]| Hold!  give him his oath.  
201:110;36['  ]| (So$5#2$ they sware 
201:110;37['  ]| him.)  Then he said ~~ 
201:110;38[J  ]| <\Envy.\>  My Lord, this man, notwithstanding his 
201:110;39[J  ]| plausible name, is one of the vilest men in$4$ our country. 
201:111;01[J  ]| He neither regardeth prince nor people, law nor 
201:111;02[J  ]| custom; but doth all that$6#1$ he can to$9$ possess all men with 
201:111;03[J  ]| certain of his disloyal notions, which$6#1$ he in$4$ the general 
201:111;04[J  ]| calls principles of faith and holiness.  And, in$4$ particular, 
201:111;05[J  ]| I heard him once myself affirm that$3$ Christianity 
201:111;06[J  ]| and the customs of our town of \Vanity\ were diametrically 
201:111;07[J  ]| opposite, and could not be reconciled.  By$4$ which$6#1$ 
201:111;08[J  ]| saying, my Lord, he doth at once not only condemn all 
201:111;09[J  ]| our laudable doings, but us in$4$ the doing of them. 
201:111;10['  ]| <\Judge.\>  Then did the Judge say to$4$ him, 
201:111;10[K  ]| Hast thou 
201:111;11[K  ]| any more to$9$ say? 
201:111;12[J  ]| <\Envy.\>  My Lord, I could say much more, only I would 
201:111;13[J  ]| not be tedious to$4$ the court.  Yet, if need be, when the 
201:111;14[J  ]| other gentlemen have given in$4$ their evidence, rather 
201:111;15[J  ]| than anything shall be wanting that$6#1$ will$1$ despatch him, 
201:111;16[J  ]| I will$1$ enlarge my testimony against him.  
201:111;16['  ]| So$3$ he was 
201:111;17['  ]| bid to$9$ stand by$5$. 
201:111;18['  ]| Then they called \Superstition\, and bid him look upon$4$ 
201:111;19['  ]| the prisoner.  They also asked, what he could say for$4$ 
201:111;20['  ]| their lord the king against him.  Then they sware him; 
201:111;21['  ]| so$3$ he began. 
201:111;22[L  ]| <\Super%\> My Lord, I have no$2$ great acquaintance with 
201:111;23[L  ]| this man, nor do I desire to$9$ have further knowledge of 
201:111;24[L  ]| him; however, this I know, that$3$ he is a very pestilent 
201:111;25[L  ]| fellow, from some discourse that$3$, the other day, I had 
201:111;26[L  ]| with him in$4$ this town; for$3$ then, talking with him, I 
201:111;27[L  ]| heard him say, that$3$ our religion was nought, and such 
201:111;28[L  ]| by$4$ which$6#1$ a man could by$4$ no$2$ means please God.  Which$6#1$ 
201:111;29[L  ]| sayings of his, my Lord, your Lordship very well knows, 
201:111;30[L  ]| what necessarily thence will$1$ follow, to$4$ wit, that$3$ we do 
201:111;31[L  ]| still worship in$4$ vain, are yet in$4$ our sins, and finally 
201:111;32[L  ]| shall be damned; and this is that$6#2$ which$6#1$ I have to$9$ say. 
201:111;33['  ]| Then was \Pickthank\ sworn, and bid say what he 
201:111;34['  ]| knew, in$4$ behalf of their lord the king, against the 
201:111;35['  ]| prisoner at the bar. 
201:111;36[M  ]| <\Pick%\> My Lord, and you gentlemen all, This fellow 
201:111;37[M  ]| I have known of a long time, and have heard him speak 
201:111;38[M  ]| things that$6#1$ ought not to$9$ be spoke; for$3$ he hath railed 
201:111;39[M  ]| on$4$ our noble prince \Beelzebub\, and hath spoken contemptibly 
201:111;40[M  ]| of his honourable friends, whose names are 
201:112;01[M  ]| the Lord*Old*Man, the Lord*Carnal*Delight, the Lord*Luxurious,  
201:112;02[M  ]| the Lord*Desire*of*Vain*Glory, my old Lord*Lechery,  
201:112;03[M  ]| Sir*Having*Greedy, with all the rest of our 
201:112;04[M  ]| nobility; and he hath said, moreover, That$3$ if all men 
201:112;05[M  ]| were of his mind, if possible, there is not one of these 
201:112;06[M  ]| noblemen should have any longer a being in$4$ this town. 
201:112;07[M  ]| Besides, he hath not been afraid to$9$ rail on$4$ you, my 
201:112;08[M  ]| Lord, who$6#1$ are now appointed to$9$ be his judge, calling 
201:112;09[M  ]| you an ungodly villain, with many other such like$5$ 
201:112;10[M  ]| vilifying terms, with which$6#1$ he hath bespattered most 
201:112;11[M  ]| of the gentry of our town. 
201:112;12['  ]| When this \Pickthank\ had told his talk, the Judge 
201:112;13['  ]| directed his speech to$4$ the prisoner at the bar, saying, 
201:112;14[K  ]| Thou runagate, heretic, and traitor, hast thou heard 
201:112;15[K  ]| what these honest gentlemen have witnessed against 
201:112;16[K  ]| thee? 
201:112;17[N  ]| <\Faith%\> May I speak a few words in$4$ my own defence? 
201:112;18[K  ]| <\Judge.\>  Sirrah!  sirrah!  thou deservest to$9$ live no$2$ 
201:112;19[K  ]| longer, but to$9$ be slain immediately upon$4$ the place; 
201:112;20[K  ]| yet, that$3$ all men may see our gentleness towards thee, 
201:112;21[K  ]| let us hear what thou, vile runagate, hast to$9$ say. 
201:112;22[N  ]| <\Faith%\> 1.  I say, then, in$4$ answer to$4$ what Mr%*Envy 
201:112;23[N  ]| hath spoken, I never said aught but this, That$3$ what 
201:112;24[N  ]| rule, or laws, or customs, or people, were flat against 
201:112;25[N  ]| the Word of God, are diametrically opposite to$4$ Christianity. 
201:112;26[N  ]| If I have said amiss in$4$ this, convince me of my 
201:112;27[N  ]| error, and I am ready here before you to$9$ make my 
201:112;28[N  ]| recantation. 
201:112;29[N  ]| 2.  As to$4$ the second, to$4$ wit, Mr%*Superstition, and his 
201:112;30[N  ]| charge against me, I said only this, That$3$ in$4$ the worship 
201:112;31[N  ]| of God there is required a Divine faith; but there can 
201:112;32[N  ]| be no$2$ Divine faith without a Divine revelation of the 
201:112;33[N  ]| will$0$ of God.  Therefore, whatever is thrust into the 
201:112;34[N  ]| worship of God that$6#1$ is not agreeable to$4$ Divine revelation, 
201:112;35[N  ]| cannot be done but by$4$ a human faith, which$6#1$ faith 
201:112;36[N  ]| will$1$ not be profitable to$4$ eternal life. 
201:112;37[N  ]| 3.  As to$4$ what Mr%*Pickthank hath said, I say (avoiding 
201:112;38[N  ]| terms, as that$6#2$ I am said to$9$ rail, and the like$0$) that$3$ 
201:112;39[N  ]| the prince of this town, with all the rabblement, his 
201:112;40[N  ]| attendants, by$4$ this gentleman named, are more fit for$4$ 
201:113;01[N  ]| a being in$4$ hell, than in$4$ this town and country:  and so$3$, 
201:113;02[N  ]| the Lord have mercy upon$4$ me! 
201:113;03['  ]| Then the Judge called to$4$ the jury, (who$6#1$ all this 
201:113;04['  ]| while stood by$5$, to$9$ hear and observe:) Gentlemen of 
201:113;05['  ]| the jury, you see this man about whom so$5#1$ great an 
201:113;06['  ]| uproar hath been made in$4$ this town.  You have also 
201:113;07['  ]| heard what these worthy gentlemen have witnessed 
201:113;08['  ]| against him.  Also you have heard his reply and confession. 
201:113;09['  ]| It lieth now in$4$ your breasts to$9$ hang him or 
201:113;10['  ]| save his life; but yet I think meet to$9$ instruct you into 
201:113;11['  ]| our law. 
201:113;12['  ]| There was an Act made in$4$ the days of Pharaoh the 
201:113;13['  ]| Great, servant to$4$ our prince, that$3$ lest those of a contrary 
201:113;14['  ]| religion should  multiply and grow too strong 
201:113;15['  ]| for$4$ him, their males should be thrown into the river. 
201:113;16['  ]| There was also an Act made in$4$ the days of Nebuchadnezzar 
201:113;17['  ]| the Great, another of his servants, that$3$ whosoever 
201:113;18['  ]| would not fall down and worship his golden image, 
201:113;19['  ]| should be thrown into a fiery furnace.  There was also 
201:113;20['  ]| an Act made in$4$ the days of Darius, that$3$ whoso, for$4$ 
201:113;21['  ]| some time, called upon$4$ any god but him, should be 
201:113;22['  ]| cast into the lions' den.  Now the substance of these 
201:113;23['  ]| laws this rebel has broken, not only in$4$ thought, (which$6#1$ 
201:113;24['  ]| is not to$9$ be borne,) but also in$4$ word and deed, which$6#1$ 
201:113;25['  ]| must therefore needs be intolerable. 
201:113;26['  ]| For$4$ that$6#2$ of Pharaoh, his law was made upon$4$ a 
201:113;27['  ]| supposition to$9$ prevent mischief, no$2$ crime being yet 
201:113;28['  ]| apparent; but here is a crime apparent, For$4$ the 
201:113;29['  ]| second and third, you see he disputeth against our 
201:113;30['  ]| religion; and for$4$ the treason he hath confessed, he 
201:113;31['  ]| deserveth to$9$ die the death. 
201:113;32['  ]| Then went the jury out, whose names were, Mr*Blind-man, 
201:113;33['  ]| Mr*No-good, Mr*Malice, Mr*Love-lust, Mr*Live-loose, 
201:113;34['  ]| Mr*Heady, Mr*High-mind, Mr*Emnity, Mr*Liar, 
201:113;35['  ]| Mr*Cruelty, Mr*Hate-light, and Mr*Implacable; 
201:113;36['  ]| who$6#1$ every one gave in$5$ his private verdict against him 
201:113;37['  ]| among themselves, and afterwards unanimously concluded 
201:113;38['  ]| to$9$ bring him in$5$ guilty before the Judge.  And 
201:113;39['  ]| first, among themselves, Mr*Blind-man, the foreman, 
201:113;40['  ]| said, 
201:113;40[O  ]| I see clearly that$3$ this man is a heretic.  
201:113;40['  ]| Then 
201:114;01['  ]| said Mr*No-good, 
201:114;01[O  ]| Away with such a fellow from the 
201:114;02[O  ]| earth.  Ay, 
201:114;02['  ]| said Mr*Malice, 
201:114;02[O  ]| for$3$ I hate the very looks 
201:114;03[O  ]| of him.  Then 
201:114;03['  ]| said Mr*Love-lust, 
201:114;03[O  ]| I could never endure 
201:114;04[O  ]| him.  Nor I, 
201:114;04['  ]| said Mr*Live-loose, 
201:114;04[O  ]| for$3$ he would always 
201:114;05[O  ]| be condemning my way.  Hang him, hang him, 
201:114;05['  ]| said 
201:114;06['  ]| Mr*Heady.  
201:114;06[O  ]| A sorry scrub, 
201:114;06['  ]| said Mr*High-mind.  
201:114;06[O  ]| My 
201:114;07[O  ]| heart riseth against him, 
201:114;07['  ]| said Mr*Emnity.  
201:114;07[O  ]| He is a 
201:114;08[O  ]| rogue, 
201:114;08['  ]| said Mr*Liar.  
201:114;08[O  ]| Hanging is too good for$4$ him, 
201:114;09['  ]| said Mr*Cruelty.  
201:114;09[O  ]| Let us despatch him out of the way, 
201:114;10['  ]| said Mr*Hate-light.  Then said Mr*Implacable, 
201:114;10[O  ]| Might 
201:114;11[O  ]| I have all the world given me, I could not be reconciled 
201:114;12[O  ]| to$4$ him; therefore, let us forthwith bring him in$5$ 
201:114;13[O  ]| guilty of death.  
201:114;13['  ]| And so$3$ they did; therefore he was 
201:114;14['  ]| presently condemned to$9$ be had from the place where 
201:114;15['  ]| he was, to$4$ the place from whence he came, and there 
201:114;16['  ]| to$9$ be put to$4$ the most cruel death that$6#1$ could be 
201:114;17['  ]| invented. 
201:114;18['  ]| They, therefore, brought him out, to$9$ do with him 
201:114;19['  ]| according to$4$ their law; and, first, they scourged him, 
201:114;20['  ]| then they buffeted him, then they lanced his flesh 
201:114;21['  ]| with knives; after that$6#2$, they stoned him with stones, 
201:114;22['  ]| then pricked him with their swords; and, last of all, 
201:114;23['  ]| they burned him to$4$ ashes at the stake.  Thus came 
201:114;24['  ]| \Faithful\ to$4$ his end. 
201:114;25[I  ]| Now I saw that$3$ there stood behind the multitude 
201:114;26[I  ]| a chariot and a couple of horses, waiting for$4$ \Faithful\, 
201:114;27[I  ]| who$6#1$ (so$5#1$ soon as his adversaries had despatched him) 
201:114;28[I  ]| was taken up$5$ into it, and straightway was carried up$5$ 
201:114;29[I  ]| through the clouds, with sound of trumpet, the nearest 
201:114;30[I  ]| way to$4$ the \Celestial*Gate\. 
201:114;31['  ]| Brave \Faithful\, bravely done in$4$ word and deed; 
201:114;32['  ]| Judge, witnesses, and jury have, instead 
201:114;33['  ]| Of overcoming thee, but shewn their rage: 
201:114;34['  ]| When they are dead, thou'lt live from age to$4$ age. 
201:114;35['  ]| But as for$4$ \Christian\, he had some respite, and was 
201:114;36['  ]| remanded back to$4$ prison.  So$3$ he there remained for$4$ 
201:114;37['  ]| a space; but He that$6#1$ overrules all things, having the 
201:114;38['  ]| power of their rage in$4$ his own hand, so$5#2$ wrought it 
201:114;39['  ]| about, that$3$ \Christian\ for$4$ that$6#2$ time escaped them, and 
201:114;40['  ]| went his way.  ~~ <\Pilgrim's*Progress\.> 
301:242;00@@@@@|
301:242;00['  ]| <EDWARD*GIBBON> 
301:242;00['  ]| <1737-1794> 
301:242;00['  ]| <THE SPORTS OF THE EMPEROR*COMMODUS> 
301:242;01['  ]| ELATED with these praises, which$6#1$ gradually extinguished 
301:242;02['  ]| the innate sense of shame, Commodus resolved 
301:242;03['  ]| to$9$ exhibit, before the eyes of the Roman people, those 
301:242;04['  ]| exercises which$6#1$ till then he had decently confined 
301:242;05['  ]| within the walls of his palace and to$4$ the presence of a 
301:242;06['  ]| few favourites.  On$4$ the appointed day the various 
301:242;07['  ]| motives of flattery, fear, and curiosity, attracted to$4$ the 
301:243;01['  ]| amphitheatre an innumerable multitude of spectators: 
301:243;02['  ]| and some degree of applause was deservedly bestowed 
301:243;03['  ]| on$4$ the uncommon skill of the Imperial performer. 
301:243;04['  ]| Whether he aimed at the head or heart of the animal, 
301:243;05['  ]| the wound was alike certain and mortal.  With arrows, 
301:243;06['  ]| whose point was shaped into the form of a crescent, 
301:243;07['  ]| Commodus often intercepted the rapid career and cut 
301:243;08['  ]| asunder the long bony neck of the ostrich.  A panther 
301:243;09['  ]| was let loose; and the archer waited till he had leaped 
301:243;10['  ]| upon$4$ a trembling malefactor.  In$4$ the same instant the 
301:243;11['  ]| shaft flew, the beast dropped dead, and the man remained 
301:243;12['  ]| unhurt.  The dens of the amphitheatre disgorged at 
301:243;13['  ]| once a hundred lions; a hundred darts from the unerring 
301:243;14['  ]| hand of Commodus laid them dead as they ran 
301:243;15['  ]| raging round the \Arena\.  Neither the huge bulk of 
301:243;16['  ]| the elephant nor the scaly hide of the rhinoceros could 
301:243;17['  ]| defend them from his stroke.  A*Ethiopia and India 
301:243;18['  ]| yielded their most extraordinary productions; and 
301:243;19['  ]| several animals were slain in$4$ the amphitheatre which$6#1$ 
301:243;20['  ]| had been seen only in$4$ the representations of art, or 
301:243;21['  ]| perhaps of fancy.  In$4$ all the exhibitions the surest 
301:243;22['  ]| precautions were used to$9$ protect the person of the 
301:243;23['  ]| Roman*Hercules from the desperate spring of any 
301:243;24['  ]| savage who$6#1$ might possibly disregard the dignity of the 
301:243;25['  ]| emperor and the sanctity of the god. 
301:243;26['  ]| But the meanest of the populace were affected with 
301:243;27['  ]| shame and indignation, when they beheld their sovereign 
301:243;28['  ]| enter the lists as a gladiator, and glory in$4$ a 
301:243;29['  ]| profession which$6#1$ the laws and manners of the Romans 
301:243;30['  ]| had branded with the justest note of infamy.  He chose 
301:243;31['  ]| the habit and arms of the \Secutor\, whose combat with 
301:243;32['  ]| the \Retiarius\ formed one of the most lively scenes 
301:243;33['  ]| in$4$ the bloody sports of the amphitheatre.  The \Secutor\ 
301:243;34['  ]| was armed with an helmet, sword and buckler; his 
301:243;35['  ]| naked antagonist had only a large net and a trident; 
301:243;36['  ]| with the one he endeavoured to$9$ entangle, with the 
301:243;37['  ]| other to$9$ dispatch, his enemy.  If he missed the first 
301:243;38['  ]| throw he was obliged to$9$ fly from the pursuit of the 
301:243;39['  ]| \Secutor\ till he had prepared his net for$4$ a second cast. 
301:243;40['  ]| The emperor fought in$4$ this character seven hundred 
301:244;01['  ]| and thirty-five several times.  These glorious achievements 
301:244;02['  ]| were carefully recorded in$4$ the public acts of the 
301:244;03['  ]| empire; and, that$3$ he might omit no$2$ circumstance of 
301:244;04['  ]| infamy, he received from the common fund of gladiators 
301:244;05['  ]| a stipend so$5#1$ exorbitant that$3$ it became a new and most 
301:244;06['  ]| ignominious tax upon$4$ the Roman people.  It may be 
301:244;07['  ]| easily supposed that$3$ in$4$ these engagements the master 
301:244;08['  ]| of the world was always successful; in$4$ the amphitheatre 
301:244;09['  ]| his victories were not often sanguinary; but 
301:244;10['  ]| when he exercised his skill in$4$ the school of gladiators, 
301:244;11['  ]| or his own palace, his wretched antagonists were frequently 
301:244;12['  ]| honoured with a mortal wound from the hand 
301:244;13['  ]| of Commodus, and obliged to$9$ seal their flattery with 
301:244;14['  ]| their blood.  He now disdained the appellation of 
301:244;15['  ]| Hercules.  The name of Paulus, a celebrated Secutor, 
301:244;16['  ]| was the only one which$6#1$ delighted his ear.  It was inscribed 
301:244;17['  ]| on$4$ his colossal statues, and repeated in$4$ the 
301:244;18['  ]| redoubled acclamations of the mournful and applauding 
301:244;19['  ]| senate.  ~~ <\Decline*and Fall*of*the*Roman*Empire\.>
302:244;00['  ]| <DECLINE OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE> 
302:244;20['  ]| Since Romulus, with a small band of shepherds and 
302:244;21['  ]| outlaws, fortified himself on$4$ the hills near the Tiber, 
302:244;22['  ]| ten centuries had already elapsed.  During the four 
302:244;23['  ]| first ages, the Romans, in$4$ the laborious school of  
302:244;24['  ]| poverty, had acquired the virtues of war and government: 
302:244;25['  ]| by$4$ the vigorous exertion of those virtues, and 
302:244;26['  ]| by$4$ the assistance of fortune, they had obtained, in$4$ the 
302:244;27['  ]| course of the three succeeding centuries, an absolute 
302:244;28['  ]| empire over many countries of Europe, Asia, and 
302:244;29['  ]| Africa.  The last three hundred years had been consumed 
302:244;30['  ]| in$4$ apparent prosperity and internal decline. 
302:244;31['  ]| The nation of soldiers, magistrates, and legislators, 
302:244;32['  ]| who$6#1$ composed the thirty=five tribes of the Roman 
302:244;33['  ]| people, was dissolved into the common mass of mankind, 
302:244;34['  ]| and confounded with the millions of servile provincials, 
302:244;35['  ]| who$6#1$ had received the name, without adopting 
302:245;01['  ]| the spirit, of Romans.  A mercenary army, levied 
302:245;02['  ]| among the subjects and barbarians of the frontier, was 
302:245;03['  ]| the only order of men who$6#1$ preserved and abused their 
302:245;04['  ]| independence.  By$4$ their tumultuary election, a Syrian, 
302:245;05['  ]| a Goth, or an Arab, was exalted to$4$ the throne of 
302:245;06['  ]| Rome, and invested with despotic power over the 
302:245;07['  ]| conquests and over the country of the Scipios. 
302:245;08['  ]| The limits of the Roman empire still extended from 
302:245;09['  ]| the Western*Ocean to$4$ the Tigris, and from  Mount*Atlas 
302:245;10['  ]| to$4$ the Rhine and the Danube.  To$4$ the undiscerning 
302:245;11['  ]| eye of the vulgar, Philip appeared a monarch 
302:245;12['  ]| no$2$ less powerful than Hadrian or Augustus had formerly 
302:245;13['  ]| been.  The form was still the same, but the animating 
302:245;14['  ]| health and vigour were fled.  The industry of the 
302:245;15['  ]| people was discouraged and exhausted by$4$ a long series 
302:245;16['  ]| of oppression.  The discipline of the legions, which$6#1$ 
302:245;17['  ]| alone, after the extinction of every other virtue, had 
302:245;18['  ]| propped the greatness of the state, was corrupted by$4$ 
302:245;19['  ]| the ambition, or relaxed by$4$ the weakness of the emperors. 
302:245;20['  ]| The strength of the frontiers, which$6#1$ had 
302:245;21['  ]| always consisted in$4$ arms rather than in$4$ fortifications, 
302:245;22['  ]| was insensibly undermined; and the fairest provinces 
302:245;23['  ]| were left exposed  to$4$ the rapaciousness or ambtion of 
302:245;24['  ]| the barbarians, who$6#1$ soon discovered the decline of the 
302:245;25['  ]| Roman empire.  ~~< \Decline*and*Fall\.>
303:003,01['  ]| The code of laws which$6#1$ Zingis dictated to$4$ his subjects was 
303:003,02['  ]| adapted to$4$ the preservation of domestic peace and the exercise 
303:003,03['  ]| of foreign hostility.  The punishment of death was inflicted on$4$ 
303:004,01['  ]| the crimes of adultery, murder, perjury, and the capital thefts 
303:004,02['  ]| of an horse or ox; and the fiercest of men were mild and just 
303:004,03['  ]| in$4$ their intercourse with each other.  The future election of 
303:004,04['  ]| the great khan was vested in$4$ the princes of his family and the 
303:004,05['  ]| heads of the tribes; and the regulations of the chase were 
303:004,06['  ]| essential to$4$ the pleasures and plenty of a Tartar camp.  The 
303:004,07['  ]| victorious nation was held sacred from all servile labours, which$6#1$ 
303:004,08['  ]| were abandoned to$4$ slaves and strangers; and every labour was 
303:004,09['  ]| servile except the profession of arms.  The service and discipline 
303:004,10['  ]| of the troops, who$6#1$ were armed with bows, scymetars 
303:004,11['  ]| and iron maces, and divided by$4$ hundreds, thousands, and ten 
303:004,12['  ]| thousands, were the institutions of a veteran commander.  Each 
303:004,13['  ]| officer and soldier was made responsible, under pain of death, 
303:004,14['  ]| for$4$ the safety and honour of his companions; and the spirit of 
303:004,15['  ]| conquest breathed in$4$ the law that$3$ peace should never be granted 
303:004,16['  ]| unless to$4$ a vanquished and suppliant enemy.  But it is the 
303:004,17['  ]| religion of Zingis that$6#1$ best deserves our wonder and applause.  
303:004,18['  ]| The Catholic inquisitors of Europe, who$6#1$ defended nonsense by$4$ 
303:004,19['  ]| cruelty, might have been confounded by$4$ the example of a 
303:004,20['  ]| barbarian, who$6#1$ anticipated the lessons of philosophy and 
303:004,21['  ]| established by$4$ his laws a system of pure theism and perfect 
303:004,22['  ]| toleration.  His first and only article of faith was the existence 
303:004,23['  ]| of one God, the author of all good, who$6#1$ fills, by$4$ his presence, 
303:004,24['  ]| the heavens and earth, which$6#1$ he has created by$4$ his power.  
303:004,25['  ]| The Tartars and Moguls were addicted to$4$ the idols of their 
303:004,26['  ]| peculiar tribes; and many of them had been converted by$4$ the 
303:004,27['  ]| foreign missionaries to$4$ the religions of Moses, of Mahomet, and 
303:004,28['  ]| of Christ.  These various systems in$4$ freedom and concord were 
303:004,29['  ]| taught and practised within the precints of the same camp; 
303:004,30['  ]| and the Bonze, the Imam, the Rabbi, the Nestorian, and the 
303:004,31['  ]| Latin priest enjoyed the same honourable exemption from 
303:004,32['  ]| service and tribute.  In$4$ the mosque of Bochara, the insolent 
303:004,33['  ]| victor might trample the Koran under his horse's feet, but the 
303:004,34['  ]| calm legislator respected the prophets and pontiffs of the most 
303:004,35['  ]| hostile sects.  The reason of Zingis was not informed by$4$ book; 
303:005,01['  ]| the khan could neither read nor write; and, except the tribe 
303:005,02['  ]| of the Igours, the greatest part of the Moguls and Tartars were 
303:005,03['  ]| as illiterate as their sovereign.  The memory of their exploits 
303:005,04['  ]| was preserved by$4$ tradition; sixty-eight years after the death 
303:005,05['  ]| of Zingis, these traditions were collected and transcribed; the 
303:005,06['  ]| brevity of their domestic annals may be supplied by$4$ the Chinese, 
303:005,07['  ]| Persians, Armenians, Syrians, Arabians, Greeks, 
303:006,01['  ]| Russians, Poles, Hungarians and Latins; and each nation 
303:007,01['  ]| will$1$ deserve credit in$4$ the relation of their own disasters and 
303:007,02['  ]| defeats.  
303:007,03['  ]| The arms of Zingis and his lieutenants successively reduced 
303:007,04['  ]| the hordes of the desert, who$6#1$ pitched their tents between the 
303:007,05['  ]| wall of China and the Volga; and the Mogul emperor became 
303:007,06['  ]| the monarch of the pastoral world, the lord of many millions 
303:007,07['  ]| of shepherds and soldiers, who$6#1$ felt their united strength, and 
303:007,08['  ]| were impatient to$9$ rush on$4$ the mild and wealthy climates 
303:007,09['  ]| of the south.  His ancestors had been the tributaries of the 
303:007,10['  ]| Chinese emperors; and Temugin himself had been disgraced 
303:007,11['  ]| by$4$ a title of honour and servitude.  The court of Pekin was 
303:007,12['  ]| astonished by$4$ an embassy from its former vassal, who$6#1$ in$4$ the 
303:007,13['  ]| tone of the king of nations exacted the tribute and obedience 
303:007,14['  ]| which$6#1$ he had paid, and who$6#1$ affected to$9$ treat the \Son of Heaven\ 
303:007,15['  ]| as the most contemptible of mankind.  An haughty answer 
303:007,16['  ]| disguised their secret apprehensions; and their fears were soon 
303:007,17['  ]| justified by$4$ the march of innumerable squadrons, who$6#1$ pierced 
303:007,18['  ]| on$4$ all sides the feeble rampart of the great wall.  Ninety cities 
303:007,19['  ]| were stormed, or starved, by$4$ the Moguls; ten only escaped; and 
303:007,20['  ]| Zingis, from a knowledge of the filial piety of the Chinese, covered 
303:007,21['  ]| his vanguard with their captive parents; an unworthy and, 
303:007,22['  ]| by$4$ degrees, a fruitless abuse of the virtues of his enemies.  His 
303:008,01['  ]| invasion was supported by$4$ the revolt of an hundred thousand 
303:008,02['  ]| Khitans, who$6#1$ guarded the frontier; yet he listened to$4$ a treaty; 
303:008,03['  ]| and a princess of China, three thousand horses, five hundred 
303:008,04['  ]| youths, and as many virgins, and a tribute of gold and silk, 
303:008,05['  ]| were the price of his retreat.  In$4$ his second expedition, he compelled 
303:008,06['  ]| the Chinese emperor to$9$ retire beyond the yellow river 
303:008,07['  ]| to$4$ a more southern residence.  The siege of Pekin was long 
303:008,08['  ]| and laborious:  the inhabitants were reduced by$4$ famine to$9$ decimate 
303:008,09['  ]| and devour their fellow-citizens; when their ammunition 
303:008,10['  ]| was spent, they discharged ingots of gold and silver from 
303:008,11['  ]| their engines; but the Moguls introduced a mine to$4$ the centre 
303:008,12['  ]| of the capital; and the conflagration of the palace burnt above 
303:008,13['  ]| thirty days.  China was desolated by$4$ Tartar war and domestic 
303:008,14['  ]| faction; and the five northern provinces were added to$4$ the 
303:008,15['  ]| empire of Zingis.  
303:008,16['  ]| In$4$ the West, he touched the dominions of Mohammed, sultan 
303:008,17['  ]| of Carizme, who$6#1$ reigned from the Persian*Gulf to$4$ the borders 
303:008,18['  ]| of India and Turkestan; and who$6#1$, in$4$ the proud imitation of 
303:008,19['  ]| Alexander*the*Great, forgot the servitude and ingratitude of his 
303:008,20['  ]| fathers to$4$ the house of Seljuk.  It was the wish of Zingis to$9$ 
303:008,21['  ]| establish a friendly and commercial intercourse with the most 
303:008,22['  ]| powerful of the Moslem princes; nor could he be tempted by$4$ 
303:008,23['  ]| the secret solicitations of the caliph of Bagdad, who$6#1$ sacrificed 
303:008,24['  ]| to$4$ his personal wrongs the safety of the church and state.  A 
303:008,25['  ]| rash and inhuman deed provoked and justified the Tartar arms 
303:008,26['  ]| in$4$ the invasion of the southern Asia.  A caravan of three ambassadors 
303:008,27['  ]| and one hundred and fifty merchants was arrested 
303:009,01['  ]| and murdered at Otrar, by$4$ the command of Mohammed; nor 
303:009,02['  ]| was it till after a demand and denial of justice, till he had prayed 
303:009,03['  ]| and fasted three nights on$4$ a mountain, that$3$ the Mogul emperor 
303:009,04['  ]| appealed to$4$ the judgment of God and his sword.  Our European 
303:009,05['  ]| battles, says a philosophic writer, are petty skirmishes, if compared 
303:009,06['  ]| to$4$ the numbers that$6#1$ have fought and fallen in$4$ the fields of 
303:009,07['  ]| Asia.  Seven hundred thousand moguls and Tartars are said to$9$ 
303:009,08['  ]| have marched under the standard of Zingis and his four sons.  In$4$ 
303:009,09['  ]| the vast plains that$6#1$ extend to$4$ the north of the Sihon or Jaxartes, 
303:009,10['  ]| they were encountered by$4$ four hundred thousand soldiers of 
303:009,11['  ]| the Sultan; and in$4$ the first battle, which$6#1$ was suspended by$4$ the 
303:009,12['  ]| night, one hundred and sixty thousand Carizmians were slain.  
303:009,13['  ]| Mohammed was astonished by$4$ the multitude and valour of his 
303:009,14['  ]| enemies;  he withdrew from the scene of danger, and distributed 
303:009,15['  ]| his troops in$4$ the frontier towns, trusting that$3$ the barbarians, 
303:009,16['  ]| invincible in$4$ the field, would be repulsed by$4$ the length and 
303:009,17['  ]| difficulty of so$5#1$ many regular sieges.  But the prudence of Zingis 
303:009,18['  ]| had formed a body of Chinese engineers, skilled in$4$ the mechanic 
303:009,19['  ]| arts, informed, perhaps, of the secret of gunpowder, and capable, 
303:009,20['  ]| under his discipline, of attacking a foreign country with more 
303:009,21['  ]| vigour and success than they had defended their own.  The 
303:009,22['  ]| Persian historians will$1$ relate the sieges and reduction of Otrar, 
303:009,23['  ]| Congende, Bochara, Samarcand, Carizme, Herat, Merou, Nisabour, 
303:009,24['  ]| Balch, and Candahar; and the conquest of the rich and populous 
303:010,01['  ]| countries of Transoxiana, Carizme, and Chorasan.  The destructive 
303:010,02['  ]| hostilities of Attila and the Huns have long since been elucidated 
303:010,03['  ]| by$4$ the example of Zingis and the Moguls; and in$4$ this more 
303:010,04['  ]| proper place I shall be content to$9$ observe that$3$, from the Caspian 
303:010,05['  ]| to$4$ the Indus, they ruined a tract of many hundred miles, which$6#1$ 
303:010,06['  ]| was adorned with the habitations and labours of mankind, and 
303:010,07['  ]| that$3$ five centuries have not been sufficient to$9$ repair the ravages 
303:010,08['  ]| of four years.  The Mogul empeor encouraged or indulged the 
303:010,09['  ]| fury of his troops; the hope of future possession was lost in$4$ the 
303:010,10['  ]| ardour of rapine and slaughter; and the cause of the war exasperated 
303:010,11['  ]| their native fierceness by$4$ the pretence of justice and 
303:010,12['  ]| revenge.  The downfall and death of the sultan Mohammed, 
303:010,13['  ]| who$6#1$ expired unpitied and alone in$4$ a desert island of the Caspian*Sea, 
303:010,14['  ]| is a poor atonement for$4$ the calamities of which$6#1$ he was 
303:010,15['  ]| the author.  Could the Carizmian empire have been saved by$4$ a 
303:010,16['  ]| single hero, it would have been saved by$4$ his son Gelaleddin, 
303:010,17['  ]| whose active valour repeatedly checked the Moguls in$4$ the 
303:010,18['  ]| career of victory.  Retreating, as he fought, to$4$ the banks of the 
303:010,19['  ]| Indus, he was oppressed by$4$ their innumerable host, till, in$4$ the 
303:010,20['  ]| last moment of despair, Gelaleddin spurred his horse into the 
303:010,21['  ]| waves, swam one of the broadest and most rapid rivers of Asia, 
303:010,22['  ]| and extorted the admiration and applause of Zingis himself.  It 
303:010,23['  ]| was in$4$ this camp that$3$ the Mogul emperor yielded with reluctance 
303:010,24['  ]| to$4$ the murmurs of his weary and wealthy troops, who$6#1$ sighed for$4$ 
303:010,25['  ]| the enjoyment of their native land.  Incumbered with the spoils 
303:010,26['  ]| of Asia, he slowly measured back his footsteps, betrayed some 
303:010,27['  ]| pity for$4$ the misery of the vanquished, and declared his intention 
303:010,28['  ]| of rebuilding the cities which$6#1$ had been swept away by$4$ the 
303:010,29['  ]| tempest of his arms.  After he had repassed the Oxus and 
303:010,30['  ]| Jaxartes, he was joined by$4$ two generals, whom he had detached 
303:010,31['  ]| with thirty thousand horse, to$9$ subdue the western provinces of 
303:010,32['  ]| Persia.  They had trampled on$4$ the nations which$6#1$ opposed their 
303:010,33['  ]| passage, penetrated through the gates of Derbend, traversed the 
303:010,34['  ]| Volga, and the desert, and accomplished the circuit of the Caspian*Sea, 
303:010,35['  ]| by$4$ an expedition which$6#1$ had never been attempted and has 
303:010,36['  ]| never been repeated.  The return of Zingis was signalised by$4$ 
303:010,37['  ]| the overthrow of the rebellious or independent kingdoms of 
303:010,38['  ]| Tartary; and he died in$4$ the fulness of years and glory, with 
303:010,39['  ]| his last breath exhorting and instructing his sons to$9$ achieve the 
303:010,40['  ]| conquest of the Chinese empire.  
303:011,01['  ]| The harem of Zingis was composed of five hundred wives 
303:011,02['  ]| and concubines; and of his numerous progeny, four sons, illustrious 
303:011,03['  ]| by$4$ their birth and merit, exercised under their father 
303:011,04['  ]| the principal offices of peace and war.  Toushi was his great 
303:011,05['  ]| huntsman, Zagatai his judge, Octai his minister, and Tuli his 
303:011,06['  ]| general; and their names and actions are often conspicuous in$4$ 
303:011,07['  ]| the history of his conquests.  Firmly united for$4$ their own and 
303:011,08['  ]| the public interest, the three brothers and their families were content 
303:011,09['  ]| with dependent sceptres; and Octai, by$4$ general consent, 
303:011,10['  ]| was proclaimed Great*Khan, or emperor of the Moguls and 
303:011,11['  ]| Tartars.  He was succeeded by$4$ his son Gayuk, after whose 
303:011,12['  ]| death the empire devolved to$4$ his cousins, Mangou and Cublai, 
303:011,13['  ]| the sons of Tuli, and the grandsons of Zingis.  In$4$ the sixty-eight 
303:011,14['  ]| years of his four first successors, the Moguls subdued almost 
303:011,15['  ]| all Asia and a large portion of Europe.  Without confining 
303:011,16['  ]| myself to$4$ the order of time, without expatiating on$4$ the detail of 
303:011,17['  ]| events, I shall present a general picture of the progress of their 
303:011,18['  ]| arms:  I.  In$4$ the East; II.  in$4$ the South; III.  in$4$ the West; 
303:011,19['  ]| and, IV.  in$4$ the North.   
401:274;00@@@@@|
401:274;00['  ]| <CHARLES*LAMB> 
401:274;00['  ]| <1775-1834> 
401:274;00['  ]| <NEW*YEAR'S*EVE> 
401:274;01['  ]| EVERY man hath two birthdays:  two days at least, in$4$ 
401:274;02['  ]| every year, which$6#1$ set him upon$4$ revolving the lapse of 
401:274;03['  ]| time, as it affects his mortal duration.  The one is that$6#2$ 
401:274;04['  ]| which$6#1$ in$4$ an especial manner he termeth \his\.  In$4$ the 
401:274;05['  ]| gradual desuetude of old observances, this custom of 
401:274;06['  ]| solemnising our proper birthday hath nearly passed 
401:274;07['  ]| away, or is left to$4$ children, who$6#1$ reflect nothing at all 
401:274;08['  ]| about the matter, nor understand anything in$4$ it beyond 
401:274;09['  ]| cake and orange.  But the birth of a New*Year is of 
401:274;10['  ]| an interest too wide to$9$ be pretermitted by$4$ king or 
401:274;11['  ]| cobbler.  No*one ever regarded the First of January 
401:274;12['  ]| with indifference.  It is that$6#2$ from which$6#1$ all date their 
401:274;13['  ]| time, and count upon$4$ what is left.  It is the nativity of 
401:274;14['  ]| our common Adam. 
401:274;15['  ]| Of all sounds of all bells ~~ (bells, the music nighest 
401:274;16['  ]| bordering upon$4$ heaven) ~~ most solemn and touching is 
401:274;17['  ]| the peal which$6#1$ rings out the Old*Year.  
401:274;17[P  ]| I never hear 
401:274;18[P  ]| it without a gathering-up of my mind to$4$ a concentration 
401:274;19[P  ]| of all the images that$6#1$ have been diffused over the past 
401:274;20[P  ]| twelvemonth; all I have done or suffered, performed 
401:274;21[P  ]| or neglected, in$4$ that$6#2$ regretted time.  I begin to$9$ know 
401:274;22[P  ]| its worth, as when a person dies.  It takes a personal 
401:274;23[P  ]| colour; nor was it a poetical flight in$4$ a contemporary, 
401:274;24[P  ]| when he exlaimed ~~  
401:275;01[Z  ]| It is no$2$ more than what in$4$ sober sadness every one 
401:275;02[Z  ]| of us seems to$9$ be conscious of, in$4$ that$6#2$ awful leave-taking. 
401:275;03[P  ]| I am sure I felt it, and all felt it with me, 
401:275;04[P  ]| last night; though some of my companions affected 
401:275;05[P  ]| rather to$9$ manifest an exhilaration at the birth of the 
401:275;06[P  ]| coming year, than any very tender regrets for$4$ the 
401:275;07[P  ]| decease of its predecessor.  But I am none of those 
401:275;08[P  ]| who$6#1$ ~~ 
401:275;09[Z  ]| Welcome the coming, speed the parting guest. 
401:275;10[P  ]| I am naturally, beforehand, shy of novelties; new 
401:275;11[P  ]| books, new faces new years, ~~ from some mental twist 
401:275;12[P  ]| which$6#1$ makes it difficult in$4$ me to$9$ face the prospective. 
401:275;13[P  ]| I have almost ceased to$9$ hope; and am sanguine only 
401:275;14[P  ]| in$4$ the prospects of other (former) years.  I plunge into 
401:275;15[P  ]| foregone visions and conclusions.  I encounter pell-mell 
401:275;16[P  ]| with past disappointments.  I forgive, or overcome 
401:275;17[P  ]| in$4$ fancy, old adversaries.  I play over again \for$4$ love\, 
401:275;18[P  ]| as the gamesters phrase it, games for$4$ which$6#1$ I once 
401:275;19[P  ]| paid so$5#1$ dear.  I would scarce now have any of those 
401:275;20[P  ]| untoward incidents and events of my life reversed.  I 
401:275;21[P  ]| would no$2$ more alter them than the incidents of some 
401:275;22[P  ]| well-contrived novel.  Methinks, it is better that$3$ I 
401:275;23[P  ]| should have pined away seven of my goldenest years, 
401:275;24[P  ]| when I was thrall to$4$ the fair hair, and fairer eyes, of 
401:275;25[P  ]| Alice*W***n, than that$3$ so$5#1$ passionate a love adventure 
401:275;26[P  ]| should be lost.  It was better that$3$ our family should 
401:275;27[P  ]| have missed that$6#2$ legacy, which$6#1$ old Dorrell cheated us 
401:275;28[P  ]| of, than that$3$ I should have at this moment two thousand 
401:275;29[P  ]| pounds \8in 8banco\, and be without the idea of that$6#2$ specious 
401:275;30[P  ]| old rogue. 
401:275;31[P  ]| In$4$ a degree beneath manhood, it is my infirmity to$9$ 
401:275;32[P  ]| look back upon$4$ those early days.  Do I advance a 
401:275;33[P  ]| paradox when I say, that$3$, skipping over the intervention 
401:275;34[P  ]| of forty years, a man may have leave to$9$ love 
401:275;35[P  ]| \himself\ without the imputation of self-love? 
401:275;36[P  ]| If I know aught of myself, no*one whose mind is 
401:275;37[P  ]| introspective ~~ and mine is painfully so$5#2$ ~~ can have a 
401:275;38[P  ]| less respect for$4$ his present identity than I have for$4$ the 
401:276;01[P  ]| man Elia.  I know him to$9$ be light, and vain, and 
401:276;02[P  ]| humoursome; a notorious ***; addicted to$4$ ***; 
401:276;03[P  ]| averse from counsel, neither taking it, nor offering 
401:276;04[P  ]| it; ~~ *** besides; a stammering buffoon; what you 
401:276;05[P  ]| will$1$; lay it on$5$, and spare not; I subscribe to$4$ it all, 
401:276;06[P  ]| and much more, than thou canst be willing to$9$ lay at 
401:276;07[P  ]| his door ~~ but for$4$ the child Elia ~~ that$6#2$ ""other me,"" 
401:276;08[P  ]| there, in$4$ the background ~~ I must take leave to$9$ cherish 
401:276;09[P  ]| the remembrance of that$6#2$ young master ~~ with as little 
401:276;10[P  ]| reference, I protest, to$4$ his stupid changeling of five-and-forty, 
401:276;11[P  ]| as if it had been a child of some other house, 
401:276;12[P  ]| and not of my parents.  I can cry over its patient 
401:276;13[P  ]| small-pox at five, and rougher medicaments.  I can 
401:276;14[P  ]| lay its poor fevered head upon$4$ the sick pillow at 
401:276;15[P  ]| Christ's, and wake with it in$4$ surprise at the gentle 
401:276;16[P  ]| posture of maternal tenderness hanging over it, that$6#1$ 
401:276;17[P  ]| unknown had watched its sleep.  I know how it 
401:276;18[P  ]| shrank from any the least colour of falsehood.  ~~ God 
401:276;19[P  ]| help thee, Elia, how art thou changed!  ~~ Thou art 
401:276;20[P  ]| sophisticated.  ~~ I know how honest, how courageous 
401:276;21[P  ]| (for$4$ a weakling) it was ~~ how religious, how imaginative, 
401:276;22[P  ]| how hopeful!  From what have I not fallen, if 
401:276;23[P  ]| the child I remember was indeed myself, ~~ and not 
401:276;24[P  ]| some dissembling guardian, presenting a false indentity, 
401:276;25[P  ]| to$9$ give the rule to$4$ my unpractised steps, and regulate 
401:276;26[P  ]| the tone of my moral being! 
401:276;27[P  ]| That$3$ I am fond of indulging, beyond a hope of 
401:276;28[P  ]| sympathy, in$4$ such retrospection, may be the symptom 
401:276;29[P  ]| of some sickly idiosyncarsy.  Or is it owing to$4$ another 
401:276;30[P  ]| cause:  simply, that$3$ being without wife or family, I 
401:276;31[P  ]| have not learned to$9$ project myself enough out of 
401:276;32[P  ]| myself; and having  no$2$ offspring of my own to$9$ dally 
401:276;33[P  ]| with, I turn back upon$4$ memory, and adopt my own 
401:276;34[P  ]| early idea, as my heir and favourite?  If these speculations 
401:276;35[P  ]| seem fantastical to$4$ thee, Reader (a busy man, 
401:276;36[P  ]| perchance), if I tread out of the way of thy sympathy, 
401:276;37[P  ]| and am singularly conceited only, I retire, impenetrable 
401:276;38[P  ]| to$4$ ridicule, under the phantom cloud of Elia. 
401:276;39[P  ]| The elders, with whom I was brought up$5$, were of a 
401:276;40[P  ]| character not likely to$9$ let slip the sacred observance of 
401:277;01[P  ]| any old institution; and the ringing out of the Old 
401:277;02[P  ]| Year was kept by$4$ them with circumstances of peculiar 
401:277;03[P  ]| ceremony.  ~~ In$4$ those days the sound of those midnight 
401:277;04[P  ]| chimes, though it seemed to$9$ raise hilarity in$4$ all around 
401:277;05[P  ]| me, never failed to$9$ bring a train of pensive imagery 
401:277;06[P  ]| into my fancy.  Yet I then scarce conceived what it 
401:277;07[P  ]| meant, or thought of it as a reckoning that$6#1$ concerned 
401:277;08[P  ]| me.  Not childhood alone, but the young man till 
401:277;09[P  ]| thirty, never feels practically that$3$ he is mortal.  He 
401:277;10[P  ]| knows it indeed, and, if need were, he could preach a 
401:277;11[P  ]| homily on$4$ the fragility of life; but he brings it not 
401:277;12[P  ]| home to$4$ himself, any more than in$4$ a hot June we can 
401:277;13[P  ]| appropriate to$4$ our imagination the freezing days of 
401:277;14[P  ]| December.  But now, shall I confess a truth?  ~~ I feel 
401:277;15[P  ]| these audits but too powerfully.  I begin to$9$ count the 
401:277;16[P  ]| probabilities of my duration, and to$9$ grudge at the 
401:277;17[P  ]| expenditure of moments and shortest periods, like$4$ 
401:277;18[P  ]| misers' farthings.  In$4$ proportion as the years both 
401:277;19[P  ]| lessen and shorten, I set more count upon$4$ their periods, 
401:277;20[P  ]| and would fain lay my ineffectual finger upon$4$ the 
401:277;21[P  ]| spoke of the great wheel.  I am not content to$9$ pass 
401:277;22[P  ]| away ""like$4$ a weaver's shuttle.""  Those metaphors solace 
401:277;23[P  ]| me not, nor sweeten the unpalatable draught of mortality. 
401:277;24[P  ]| I care not to$9$ be carried with the tide, that$6#1$ 
401:277;25[P  ]| smoothly bears human life to$4$ eternity; and reluct at 
401:277;26[P  ]| the inevitable course of destiny.  I am in$4$ love with 
401:277;27[P  ]| this green earth; the face of town and country; the 
401:277;28[P  ]| unspeakable rural solitudes, and the sweet security of 
401:277;29[P  ]| streets.  I would set up$5$ my tabernacle here.  I am 
401:277;30[P  ]| content to$9$ stand still at the age to$4$ which$6#1$ I am arrived; 
401:277;31[P  ]| I, and my friends:  to$9$ be no$2$ younger, no$2$ richer, no$2$ 
401:277;32[P  ]| handsomer.  I do not want to$9$ be weaned by$4$ age; or 
401:277;33[P  ]| drop, like$4$ mellow fruit, as they say, into the grave.  ~~ 
401:277;34[P  ]| Any alteration, on$4$ this earth of mine, in$4$ diet or in$4$ 
401:277;35[P  ]| lodging, puzzles and discomposes me.  My household-gods 
401:277;36[P  ]| plant a terrible fixed foot, and are not rooted up$5$ 
401:277;37[P  ]| without blood.  They do not willingly seek Lavinian 
401:277;38[P  ]| shores.  A new state of being staggers me. 
401:277;39[P  ]| Sun, and sky, and breeze, and solitary walks, and 
401:277;40[P  ]| summer holidays, and the greenness of fields, and the 
401:278;01[P  ]| delicious juices of meats and fishes, and society, and 
401:278;02[P  ]| the cheerful glass, and candle-light, and fireside conversations, 
401:278;03[P  ]| and innocent vanities, and jests, and \irony\ 
401:278;04[P  ]| \itself\ ~~ do these things go out with life? 
401:278;05[P  ]| Can a ghost laugh, or shake his gaunt sides, when 
401:278;06[P  ]| you are pleasant with him? 
401:278;07[P  ]| And you, my midnight darlings, my Folios; must I 
401:278;08[P  ]| part with the intense delight of having you (huge armfuls) 
401:278;09[P  ]| in$4$ my embraces?  Must knowledge come to$4$ me, 
401:278;10[P  ]| if it come at all, by$4$ some awkward experiment of 
401:278;11[P  ]| intuition, and no$2$ longer by$4$ this familiar process of 
401:278;12[P  ]| reading? 
401:278;13[P  ]| Shall I enjoy friendships there, wanting the smiling 
401:278;14[P  ]| indications which$6#1$ point me to$4$ them here, ~~ the recognisable 
401:278;15[P  ]| face ~~ the ""sweet assurance of a look""? 
401:278;16[P  ]| In$4$ winter this intolerable disinclination to$4$ dying ~~ to$9$ 
401:278;17[P  ]| give it its mildest name ~~ does more especially haunt 
401:278;18[P  ]| and beset me.  In$4$ a genial August moon, beneath a 
401:278;19[P  ]| sweltering sky, death is almost problematic.  At those 
401:278;20[P  ]| times do such poor snakes as myself enjoy an immortality. 
401:278;21[P  ]| Then we expand and burgeon.  Then we are 
401:278;22[P  ]| as strong again, as valiant again, as wise again, and a 
401:278;23[P  ]| great deal taller.  The blast that$6#1$ nips and shrinks me, 
401:278;24[P  ]| puts me in$4$ thoughts of death.  All things allied to$4$ the 
401:278;25[P  ]| insubstantial, wait upon$4$ that$6#2$ master feeling; cold, 
401:278;26[P  ]| numbness, dreams, perplexity; moonlight itself, with 
401:278;27[P  ]| its shadowy and spectral appearances, ~~ that$6#2$ cold ghost 
401:278;28[P  ]| of the sun, or Pho*ebus' sickly sister, like$4$ that$6#2$ innutritious 
401:278;29[P  ]| one denounced in$4$ the Canticles: ~~ I am none 
401:278;30[P  ]| of her minions ~~ I hold with the Persian. 
401:278;31[P  ]| Whatsoever thwarts, or puts me out of my way, 
401:278;32[P  ]| brings death unto my mind.  All partial evils, like$4$ 
401:278;33[P  ]| humours, run into that$6#2$ capital plague-sore.  ~~ I have 
401:278;34[P  ]| heard some profess an indifferance to$4$ life.  Such hail 
401:278;35[P  ]| the end of their existence as a port of refuge; and 
401:278;36[P  ]| speak of the grave as of some soft arms, in$4$ which$6#1$ they 
401:278;37[P  ]| may slumber as on$4$ a pillow.  Some have wooed death 
401:278;38[P  ]| ~~ but out upon$4$ thee, I say, thou foul, ugly phantom! 
401:278;39[P  ]| I detest, abhor, execrate, and (with Friar*John) give 
401:278;40[P  ]| thee to$4$ six score thousand devils, as in$4$ no$2$ instance to$9$ 
401:279;01[P  ]| be excused or tolerated, but shunned as an universal 
401:279;02[P  ]| viper; to$9$ be branded, proscribed, and spoken evil of! 
401:279;03[P  ]| In$4$ no$2$ way can I be brought to$9$ digest thee, thou thin, 
401:279;04[P  ]| melancholy \Privation\, or more frightful and confounding 
401:279;05[P  ]| \Positive\! 
401:279;06[P  ]| Those antidotes, prescribed against the fear of thee, 
401:279;07[P  ]| are altogether frigid and insulting, like$4$ thyself.  For$3$ 
401:279;08[P  ]| what satisfaction hath a man, that$3$ he shall ""lie down 
401:279;09[P  ]| with kings and emperors in$4$ death,"" who$6#2$ in$4$ his lifetime 
401:279;10[P  ]| never greatly coveted the society of such bed-fellows? 
401:279;11[P  ]| ~~ or, forsooth, that$3$ ""so$5#2$ shall the fairest face appear""? 
401:279;12[P  ]| ~~ why, to$9$ comfort me, must Alice*W***n be a goblin? 
401:279;13[P  ]| More than all, I conceive disgust at those impertinent 
401:279;14[P  ]| and misbecoming familiarities, inscribed upon$4$ your 
401:279;15[P  ]| ordinary tombstones.  Every dead man must take 
401:279;16[P  ]| upon$4$ himself to$9$ be lecturing me with his odious truism, 
401:279;17[P  ]| that$3$ ""Such as he now is I must shortly be.""  Not so$5#1$ 
401:279;18[P  ]| shortly, friend, perhaps, as thou imaginest.  In$4$ the 
401:279;19[P  ]| meantime I am alive.  I move about.  I am worth 
401:279;20[P  ]| twenty of thee.  Know thy betters!  Thy New*Years' 
401:279;21[P  ]| days are past.  I survive, a jolly candidate for$4$ 1821. 
401:279;22[P  ]| Another cup of wine ~~ and while that$6#2$ turncoat bell, 
401:279;23[P  ]| that$6#1$ just now mournfully chanted the obsequies of 
401:279;24[P  ]| 1820 departed, with changed notes lustily rings in$4$ a 
401:279;25[P  ]| successor, let us attune to$4$ its peal the song made on$4$ a 
401:279;26[P  ]| like$2$ occasion, by$4$ hearty, cheerful Mr%*Cotton.  ~~ <\Essays*of*Elia\.>
401:279;27['  ]| 
402:280;00['  ]| <Barrenness of the Imaginative Faculty in the Productions> 
402:280;00['  ]| <of Modern Art> 
402:280;01['  ]| HOGARTH excepted, can we produce any one painter within 
402:280;02['  ]| the last fifty years, or since the humour of exhibiting began, 
402:280;03['  ]| that$6#1$ has treated a story \imaginatively\?  By$4$ this we mean, upon$4$ 
402:280;04['  ]| whom his subject has so$5#1$ acted, that$3$ it has seemed to$9$ direct 
402:280;05['  ]| \him\ ~~ not to$9$ be arranged by$4$ him?  Any upon$4$ whom its leading 
402:280;06['  ]| or collateral points have impressed themselves so$5#1$ tyrannically, 
402:280;07['  ]| that$3$ he dared not treat it otherwise, lest he should falsify a 
402:280;08['  ]| revelation?  Any that$6#1$ has imparted to$4$ his compositions, not 
402:280;09['  ]| merely so$5#1$ much truth as is enough to$9$ convey a story with 
402:280;10['  ]| clearness, but that$6#2$ individualising property, which$6#1$ should 
402:280;11['  ]| keep the subject so$5#2$ treated distinct in$4$ feature from every 
402:280;12['  ]| other subject, however similar, and to$4$ common apprehensions 
402:280;13['  ]| almost identical; so$3$ as that$3$ we might say, this and this part 
402:280;14['  ]| could have found an appropriate place in$4$ no$2$ other picture 
402:280;15['  ]| in$4$ the world but this?  Is there anything in$4$ modern art ~~ we 
402:280;16['  ]| will$1$ not demand that$3$ it should be equal ~~ but in$4$ any way 
402:280;17['  ]| analogous to$4$ what Titian has effected, in$4$ that$6#2$ wonderful 
402:280;18['  ]| bringing together of two times in$4$ the Ariadne, in$4$ the National*Gallery?  
402:280;19['  ]| Precipitous, with his reeling satyr rout about him, 
402:280;20['  ]| re-peopling and re-illuming suddenly the waste places, drunk 
402:280;21['  ]| with a new fury beyond the grape, Bacchus, born in$4$ fire, 
402:280;22['  ]| fire-like flings himself at the Cretan.  This is the time present.  
402:280;23['  ]| With this telling of the story ~~ an artist, and no$2$ ordinary one, 
402:280;24['  ]| might remain richly proud.  Guido, in$4$ his harmonious version 
402:280;25['  ]| of it, saw no$2$ further.  But from the depths of the imaginative 
402:280;26['  ]| spirit Titian has recalled past time, and laid it contributory 
402:280;27['  ]| with the present to$4$ one simultaneous effect.  With the desert 
402:280;28['  ]| all ringing with the mad cymbals of his followers, made lucid 
402:280;29['  ]| with the presence and new offers of a god, ~~ as if unconscious 
402:281;01['  ]| of Bacchus, or but idly casting her eyes as upon$4$ some 
402:281;02['  ]| unconcerning pageant ~~ her soul undistracted from Theseus 
402:281;03['  ]| ~~ Ariadne is still pacing the solitary shore in$4$ as much heart-silence, 
402:281;04['  ]| and in$4$ almost the same local solitude, with which$6#1$ 
402:281;05['  ]| she awoke at daybreak to$9$ catch the forlorn last glances of 
402:281;06['  ]| the sail that$6#1$ bore away the Athenian.  
402:281;07['  ]| Here are two points miraculously co-uniting; fierce 
402:281;08['  ]| society, with the feeling of solitude still absolute; noonday 
402:281;09['  ]| revelations, with the accidents of the dull grey dawn 
402:281;10['  ]| unquenched and lingering; the \present\ Bacchus, with the 
402:281;11['  ]| \past\ Ariadne; two stories, with double Time; separate, and 
402:281;12['  ]| harmonising.  Had the artist made the woman one shade less 
402:281;13['  ]| indifferent to$4$ the God; still more, had she expressed a rapture 
402:281;14['  ]| at his advent, where would have been the story of the mighty 
402:281;15['  ]| desolation of the heart previous?  merged in$4$ the insipid 
402:281;16['  ]| accident of a flattering offer met with a welcome acceptance.  
402:281;17['  ]| The broken heart for$4$ Theseus was not lightly to$9$ be pierced up$5$ 
402:281;18['  ]| by$4$ a God.  
402:281;19['  ]| We have before us a fine rough print, from a picture by$4$ 
402:281;20['  ]| Raphael in$4$ the Vatican.  It is the Presentation of the new-born 
402:281;21['  ]| Eve to$4$ Adam by$4$ the Almighty.  A fairer mother of 
402:281;22['  ]| mankind we might imagine, and a goodlier sire perhaps of 
402:281;23['  ]| men since born.  But these are matters subordinate to$4$ the 
402:281;24['  ]| conception of the \situation\, displayed in$4$ this extraordinary 
402:281;25['  ]| production.  A tolerably modern artist would have been 
402:281;26['  ]| satisfied with tempering certain raptures of connubial anticipation, 
402:281;27['  ]| with a suitable acknowledgment of the Giver of the 
402:281;28['  ]| blessing, in$4$ the countenance of the first bridegroom; something 
402:281;29['  ]| like$4$ the divided attention of the child (Adam was 
402:281;30['  ]| here a child-man) between the given toy, and the mother 
402:281;31['  ]| who$6#1$ had just blest it with the bauble.  This is the obvious, 
402:281;32['  ]| the first-sight view, the superficial.  An artist of a higher 
402:281;33['  ]| grade, considering the awful presence they were in$4$, would 
402:281;34['  ]| have taken care to$9$ subtract something from the expression 
402:281;35['  ]| of the more human passion, and to$9$ heighten the more 
402:281;36['  ]| spiritual one.  This would be as much as an exhibition-goer, 
402:281;37['  ]| from the opening of Somerset*House to$4$ last year's show, has 
402:281;38['  ]| been enouraged to$9$ look for$4$.  It is obvious to$9$ hint at a lower 
402:281;39['  ]| expression yet, in$4$ a picture that$6#1$, for$4$ respects of drawing and 
402:281;40['  ]| colouring, might be deemed not wholly inadmissible within 
402:281;41['  ]| these art-fostering walls, in$4$ which$6#1$ the raptures should be as 
402:281;42['  ]| ninety-nine, the gratitude as one, or perhaps zero!  By$4$ neither 
402:282;01['  ]| the one passion nor the other has Raphael expounded the 
402:282;02['  ]| situation of Adam.  Singly upon$4$ his brow sits the absorbing 
402:282;03['  ]| sense of wonder at the created miracle.  The \moment\ is seized 
402:282;04['  ]| by$4$ the intuitive artist, perhaps not self-conscious of his art, 
402:282;05['  ]| in$4$ which$6#1$ neither of the conflicting emotions ~~ a moment 
402:282;06['  ]| how abstracted!  ~~ have had time to$9$ spring up$5$, or to$9$ battle 
402:282;07['  ]| for$4$ indecorous mastery.  ~~ We have seen a landscape of a 
402:282;08['  ]| justly admired neoteric, in$4$ which$6#1$ he aimed at delineating 
402:282;09['  ]| a fiction, one of the most severely beautiful in$4$ antiquity ~~ 
402:282;10['  ]| the gardens of the Hesperides.  To$9$ do Mr%*** justice, he had 
402:282;11['  ]| painted a laudable orchard, with fitting seclusion, and a 
402:282;12['  ]| veritable dragon (of which$6#1$ a Polypheme, by$4$ Poussin, is 
402:282;13['  ]| somehow a fac-simile for$4$ the situation), looking over into 
402:282;14['  ]| the world shut out backwards, so$3$ that$3$ none but a ""still-climbing 
402:282;15['  ]| Hercules"" could hope to$9$ catch a peep at the 
402:282;16['  ]| admired Ternary*of*Recluses.  No$2$ conventual porter could 
402:282;17['  ]| keep his eyes better than this custos with the ""lidless eyes."" 
402:282;18['  ]| He not only sees that$3$ none \do\ intrude from that$6#2$ privacy, 
402:282;19['  ]| but, as clear as daylight, that$3$ none but \Hercules 7aut Diabolus\ 
402:282;20['  ]| by$4$ any manner of means \can\.  So$5#1$ far all is well.  We have 
402:282;21['  ]| absolute solitude here or nowhere.  \7Ab 7extra\ the damsels are 
402:282;22['  ]| snug enough.  But here the artist's courage seems to$9$ have 
402:282;23['  ]| failed him.  He began to$9$ pity his pretty charge, and, to$9$ comfort 
402:282;24['  ]| the irksomeness, has peopled their solitude with a bevy of 
402:282;25['  ]| fair attendants, maids of honour, or ladies of the bed-chamber, 
402:282;26['  ]| according to$4$ the approved etiquette at a court of 
402:282;27['  ]| the nineteenth century; giving to$4$ the whole scene the air 
402:282;28['  ]| of a \9fe^te-champe^tre\, if we will$1$ but excuse the absence of the 
402:282;29['  ]| gentlemen.  This is well, and Watteauish.  But what is become 
402:282;30['  ]| of the solitary mystery ~~ the 
402:282;31['  ]| Daughters three 
402:282;32['  ]| That$6#1$ sing around the golden tree?  
402:282;33['  ]| This is not the way in$4$ which$6#1$ Poussin would have treated this 
402:282;34['  ]| subject.  
402:282;35['  ]| The paintings, or rather the stupendous architectural 
402:282;36['  ]| designs, of a modern artist, have been urged as objections 
402:282;37['  ]| to$4$ the theory of our motto.  They are of a character, we confess, 
402:282;38['  ]| to$9$ stagger it.  His towered structures are of the highest order 
402:282;39['  ]| of the material sublime.  Whether they were dreams, or 
402:282;40['  ]| transcripts of some elder workmanship ~~ Assyrian ruins old 
402:282;41['  ]| ~~ restored by$4$ this mighty artist, they satisfy our most 
402:283;01['  ]| stretched and craving conceptions of the glories of the 
402:283;02['  ]| antique world.  It is a pity that$3$ they were ever peopled.  On$4$ 
402:283;03['  ]| that$6#2$ side, the imagination of the artist halts, and appears 
402:283;04['  ]| defective.  Let us examine the point of the story in$4$ the 
402:283;05['  ]| Belshazzar's*Feast.  We will$1$ introduce it by$4$ an apposite 
402:283;06['  ]| anecdote.  
402:283;07['  ]| The court historians of the day record, that$3$ at the first 
402:283;08['  ]| dinner given by$4$ the late King (then Prince*Regent) at the 
402:283;09['  ]| Pavilion, the following characteristic frolic was played off.  
402:283;10['  ]| The guests were select and admiring; the banquet profuse 
402:283;11['  ]| and admirable; the lights lustrous and oriental; the eye was 
402:283;12['  ]| perfectly dazzled with the display of plate, among which$6#1$ 
402:283;13['  ]| the great gold salt-cellar, brought from the regalia in$4$ the 
402:283;14['  ]| Tower for$4$ this especial purpose, itself a tower!  stood conspicuous 
402:283;15['  ]| for$4$ its magnitude.  And now the Rev%***, the 
402:283;16['  ]| then admired court Chaplain, was proceeding with the grace, 
402:283;17['  ]| when, at a signal given, the lights were suddenly overcast, 
402:283;18['  ]| and a huge transparency was discovered, in$4$ which$6#1$ glittered 
402:283;19['  ]| in$4$ gold letters ~~  
402:283;20@z   | ""BRIGHTON ~~ EARTHQUAKE ~~ SWALLOW-UP-ALIVE!"" 
402:283;21['  ]| Imagine the confusion of the guests; the Georges and garters, 
402:283;22['  ]| jewels, bracelets, moulted upon$4$ the occasion!  The fans 
402:283;23['  ]| dropped, and picked up$5$ the next morning by$4$ the sly court-pages!  
402:283;24['  ]| Mrs%*Fitz-what's-her-name fainting, and the Countess*of*** 
402:283;25['  ]| holding the smelling-bottle, till the good-humoured 
402:283;26['  ]| Prince caused harmony to$9$ be restored, by$4$ calling in$5$ fresh 
402:283;27['  ]| candles, and declaring that$3$ the whole was nothing but a 
402:283;28['  ]| pantomime \hoax\, got up$5$ by$4$ the ingenious Mr%*Farley, of 
402:283;29['  ]| Covent*Garden, from  hints which$6#1$ his Royal*Highness himself 
402:283;30['  ]| had furnished!  Then imagine the infinite applause that$6#1$ 
402:283;31['  ]| followed, the mutual rallyings, the declarations that$3$ 
402:283;31[Y  ]| ""they 
402:283;32[Y  ]| were not much frightened,"" 
402:283;32['  ]| of the assembled galaxy.  
402:283;33['  ]| The point of time in$4$ the picture exactly answers to$4$ the 
402:283;34['  ]| appearance of the transparency in$4$ the anecdote.  The huddle, 
402:283;35['  ]| the flutter, the bustle, the escape, the alarm, and the mock 
402:283;36['  ]| alarm; the prettinesses heightened by$4$ consternation; the 
402:283;37['  ]| courtier's fear which$6#1$ was flattery; and the lady's which$6#1$ was 
402:283;38['  ]| affectation; all that$6#1$ we may conceive to$9$ have taken place 
402:283;39['  ]| in$4$ a mob of Brighton courtiers, sympathising with the well-acted 
402:283;40['  ]| surprise of their sovereign; all this, and no$2$ more, is 
402:283;41['  ]| exhibited by$4$ the well-dressed lords and ladies in$4$ the Hall*of*Belus.  
402:284;01['  ]| Just this sort of consternation we have seen among 
402:284;02['  ]| a flock of disquieted wild geese at the report only of a gun 
402:284;03['  ]| having gone off!  
402:284;04['  ]| But is this vulgar fright, this mere animal anxiety for$4$ the 
402:284;05['  ]| preservation of their persons, ~~ such as we have witnessed 
402:284;06['  ]| at a theatre, when a slight alarm of fire has been given ~~ an 
402:284;07['  ]| adequate exponent of a supernatural terror?  The way in$4$ which$6#1$ 
402:284;08['  ]| the finger of God, writing judgments, would have been met 
402:284;09['  ]| by$4$ the withered conscience?  There is a human fear, and a 
402:284;10['  ]| divine fear.  The one is disturbed, restless, and bent upon$4$ 
402:284;11['  ]| escape.  The other is bowed down, effortless, passive.  When 
402:284;12['  ]| the spirit appeared before Eliphaz in$4$ the visons of the night, 
402:284;13['  ]| and the hair of his flesh stood up$5$, was it in$4$ the thoughts of 
402:284;14['  ]| the Temanite to$9$ ring the bell of his chamber, or to$9$ call up$5$ 
402:284;15['  ]| the servants?  But let us see in$4$ the text what there is to$9$ justify 
402:284;16['  ]| all this huddle of vulgar consternation.  
402:284;17['  ]| From the words of Daniel it appears that$3$ Belshazzar had 
402:284;18['  ]| made a great feast to$4$ a thousand of his lords, and drank 
402:284;19['  ]| wine before the thousand.  The golden and silver vessels are 
402:284;20['  ]| gorgeously enumerated, with the princes, the king's concubines, 
402:284;21['  ]| and his wives.  Then follows ~~ 
402:284;22@z   | ""In$4$ the same hour came forth fingers of a man's hand, and 
402:284;23@z   | wrote over against the candlestick upon$4$ the plaster of the 
402:284;24@z   | wall of the king's palace; and the \king\ saw the part of the 
402:284;25@z   | hand that$6#1$ wrote.  Then the \king's\ countenance was changed 
402:284;26@z   | and his thoughts troubled him, so$3$ that$3$ the joints of his loins 
402:284;27@z   | were loosened, and his knees smote one against another."" 
402:284;28['  ]| This is the plain text.  By$4$ no$2$ hint can it be otherwise 
402:284;29['  ]| inferred, but that$3$ the appearance was solely confined to$4$ the 
402:284;30['  ]| fancy of Belshazzar, that$3$ his single brain was troubled.  Not 
402:284;31['  ]| a word is spoken of its being seen by$4$ any*one else there present, 
402:284;32['  ]| not even by$4$ the queen herself, who$6#1$ merely undertakes for$4$ 
402:284;33['  ]| the interpretation of the phenomenon, as related to$4$ her, 
402:284;34['  ]| doubtless, by$4$ her husband.  The lords are simply said to$9$ be 
402:284;35['  ]| astonished; \i%*e%\, at the trouble and the change of countenance 
402:284;36['  ]| in$4$ their sovereign.  Even the prophet does not appear to$9$ 
402:284;37['  ]| have seen the scroll, which$6#1$ the king saw.  He recalls it only, 
402:284;38['  ]| as Joseph did the Dream to$4$ the King*of*Egypt.  
402:284;38@z   | ""Then was 
402:284;39@z   | the part of the hand sent from him (the Lord), and this 
402:284;40@z   | writing was written.""  
402:284;40['  ]| He speaks of the phantasm as past.  
402:284;41['  ]| Then what becomes of this needless multiplication of the 
402:284;42['  ]| miracle?  this message to$4$ a royal conscience, singly expressed 
402:285;01['  ]| ~~ for$3$ it was said, 
402:285;01@z   | ""Thy kingdom is divided,"" ~~ 
402:285;01['  ]| simultaneously 
402:285;02['  ]| impressed upon$4$ the fancies of a thousand courtiers, who$6#1$ were 
402:285;03['  ]| implied in$4$ it neither directly nor grammatically?  
402:285;04['  ]| But admitting the artist's own version of the story, and that$3$ 
402:285;05['  ]| the sight was seen also by$4$ the thousand courtiers ~~ let it have 
402:285;06['  ]| been visible to$4$ all Babylon ~~ as the knees of Belshazzar were 
402:285;07['  ]| shaken, and his countenance troubled, even so$5#2$ would the 
402:285;08['  ]| knees of every man in$4$ Babylon, and their countenances, as 
402:285;09['  ]| of an individual man, have been troubled; bowed, bent 
402:285;10['  ]| down, so$3$ would they have remained, stupor-fixed, with no$2$ 
402:285;11['  ]| thought of struggling with that$6#2$ inevitable judgment.  
402:285;12['  ]| Not all that$6#1$ is optically possible to$9$ be seen, is to$9$ be shown 
402:285;13['  ]| in$4$ every picture.  The eye delightedly dwells upon$4$ the brilliant 
402:285;14['  ]| individualities in$4$ a Marriage*at*Cana, by$4$ Veronese, or Titian, 
402:285;15['  ]| to$4$ the very texture and colour of the wedding garments, 
402:285;16['  ]| the ring glittering upon$4$ the bride's fingers, the metal and 
402:285;17['  ]| fashion of the wine-pots; for$3$ at such seasons there is leisure 
402:285;18['  ]| and luxury to$9$ be curious.  But in$4$ a ""day of judgment,"" or in$4$ 
402:285;19['  ]| a ""day of lesser horrors, yet divine,"" as the impious feast 
402:285;20['  ]| of Belshazzar, the eye should see, as the actual eye of an 
402:285;21['  ]| agent or patient in$4$ the immediate scene would see, only in$4$ 
402:285;22['  ]| masses and indistinction.  Not only the female attire and 
402:285;23['  ]| Jewelry exposed to$4$ the critical eye of fashion, as minutely as 
402:285;24['  ]| the dresses in$4$ a Lady's Magazine, in$4$ the criticised picture, ~~ 
402:285;25['  ]| but perhaps the curiosities of anatomical science, and studied 
402:285;26['  ]| diversities of posture, in$4$ the falling angels and sinners of 
402:285;27['  ]| Michael*Angelo, ~~ have no$2$ business in$4$ their great subjects.  
402:285;28['  ]| There was no$2$ leisure for$4$ them.  
402:285;29['  ]| By$4$ a wise falsification, the great master of painting got 
402:285;30['  ]| at their true conclusions; by$4$ not showing the actual appearances, 
402:285;31['  ]| that$6#2$ is, all that$6#1$ was to$9$ be seen at any given moment 
402:285;32['  ]| by$4$ an indifferent eye, but only what the eye might be supposed 
402:285;33['  ]| to$9$ see in$4$ the doing or suffering of some portentous action.  
402:285;34['  ]| Suppose the moment of the swallowing up$5$ of Pompeii.  There 
402:285;35['  ]| they were to$9$ be seen ~~ houses, coulumns, architectural 
402:285;36['  ]| proportions, differences of public and private buildings, 
402:285;37['  ]| men and women at their standing occupations, the diversified 
402:285;38['  ]| thousand postures, attitudes, dreses, in$4$ some confusion 
402:285;39['  ]| truly, but physically they were visible. But what eye saw
402:285;40['  ]| them at that$6#2$ eclipsing moment, which$6#1$ reduces confusion
402:285;41['  ]| to$4$ a kind of unity, and when the senses are upturned from 
402:285;42['  ]| their proprieties, when sight and hearing are a feeling only?  
402:286;01['  ]| A thousand years have passed, and we are at leisure to$9$ 
402:286;02['  ]| contemplate the weaver fixed standing at his shuttle, the 
402:286;03['  ]| baker at his oven, and turn over with antiquarian coolness 
402:286;04['  ]| the pots and pans of Pompeii.  
402:286;05@z   | ""Sun, stand thou still upon$4$ Gibeon, and thou, Moon, in$4$ 
402:286;06@z   | the valley of Ajalon."" 
402:286;06['  ]| Who$6#2$, in$4$ reading this magnificent 
402:286;07['  ]| Hebraism, in$4$ his conception, sees aught but the heroic son 
402:286;08['  ]| of Nun, with the outstretched arm, and the greater and 
402:286;09['  ]| lesser light obsequious?  Doubtless there were to$9$ be seen hill 
402:286;10['  ]| and dale, and chariots and horsemen, on$4$ open plain, or 
402:286;11['  ]| winding by$4$ secret defiles, and all the circumstances and 
402:286;12['  ]| stratagems of war.  But whose eyes would have been conscious 
402:286;13['  ]| of this array at the interposition of the synchronic miracle?  Yet 
402:286;14['  ]| in$4$ the picture of this subject by$4$ the artist of the Belshazzar's 
402:286;15['  ]| Feast ~~ no$2$ ignoble work either ~~ the marshalling and landscape 
402:286;16['  ]| of the war is everything, the miracle sinks into an 
402:286;17['  ]| anecdote of the day; and the eye may ""dart through rank 
402:286;18['  ]| and file traverse"" for$4$ some minutes, before it shall discover, 
402:286;19['  ]| among his armed followers, \which$6#1$ is Joshua!\  Not modern art 
402:286;20['  ]| alone, but ancient, where only it is to$9$ be found if anywhere, 
402:286;21['  ]| can be detected erring, from defect of this imaginative faculty.  
402:286;22['  ]| The world has nothing to$9$ show of the preternatural in$4$ 
402:286;23['  ]| painting, transcending the figure of Lazarus bursting his 
402:286;24['  ]| grave-clothes, in$4$ the great picture at Angerstein's.  It seems 
402:286;25['  ]| a thing between two beings.  A ghastly horror at itself struggles 
402:286;26['  ]| with newly-apprehending gratitude at second life bestowed.  
402:286;27['  ]| It cannot forget that$3$ it was a ghost.  It has hardly felt that$3$ it 
402:286;28['  ]| is a body.  It has to$9$ tell of the world of spirits.  ~~ Was it from 
402:286;29['  ]| a feeling, that$3$ the crowd of half-impassioned bystanders, 
402:286;30['  ]| and the still more irrelevant herd of passers-by at a distance, 
402:286;31['  ]| who$6#1$ have not heard, or but faintly have been told of the 
402:286;32['  ]| passing miracle, admirable as they are in$4$ design and hue ~~ 
402:286;33['  ]| for$3$ it is a glorified work ~~ do not respond adequately to$4$ the 
402:286;34['  ]| action ~~ that$3$ the single figure of the Lazarus has been 
402:286;35['  ]| attributed to$4$ Michael*Angelo, and the mighty Sebastian 
402:286;36['  ]| unfairly robbed of the fame of the greater half of the interest?  
402:286;37['  ]| Now that$3$ there were not indifferent passers-by within actual 
402:286;38['  ]| scope of the eyes of those present at the miracle, to$4$ whom 
402:286;39['  ]| the sound of it had but faintly, or not at all, reached, it would 
402:286;40['  ]| be hardihood to$9$ deny; but would they see them?  or can the 
402:286;41['  ]| mind in$4$ the conception of it admit of such unconcerning 
402:286;42['  ]| objects; can it think of them at all?  or what associating league 
402:287;01['  ]| to$4$ the imagination can there be between the seers, and the 
402:287;02['  ]| seers not, of a presential miracle?  
402:287;03['  ]| Were an artist to$9$ paint upon$4$ demand a picture of a Dryad, 
402:287;04['  ]| we will$1$ ask whether, in$4$ the present low state of expectation, 
402:287;05['  ]| the patron would not, or ought not to$9$ be fully satisfied with 
402:287;06['  ]| a beautiful naked figure recumbent under wide-stretched 
402:287;07['  ]| oaks?  Dis-seat those woods, and place the same figure among 
402:287;08['  ]| fountains, and fall of pellucid water, and you have a ~~ Naiad!  
402:287;09['  ]| Not so$5#2$ in$4$ a rough print we have seen after Julio*Romano, we 
402:287;10['  ]| think ~~ for$3$ it is long since ~~ \there\, by$4$ no$2$ process, with mere 
402:287;11['  ]| change of scene, could the figure have reciprocated characters.  
402:287;12['  ]| Long, grotesque, fantastic, yet with a grace of her own, 
402:287;13['  ]| beautiful in$4$ convolution and distortion, linked to$4$ her 
402:287;14['  ]| connatural tree, co-twisting with its limbs her own, till both 
402:287;15['  ]| seemed either ~~ these, animated branches; those, disanimated 
402:287;16['  ]| members ~~ yet the animal and vegetable lives sufficiently 
402:287;17['  ]| kept distinct ~~ \his\ Dryad lay ~~ an approximation of two 
402:287;18['  ]| natures, which$6#1$ to$9$ conceive, it must be seen; analogous to$4$, 
402:287;19['  ]| not the same with, the delicacies of Ovidian transformations.  
402:287;20['  ]| To$4$ the lowest subjects, and, to$4$ a superficial comprehension, 
402:287;21['  ]| the most barren, the Great*Masters gave loftiness and 
402:287;22['  ]| fruitfulness.  The large eye of genius saw in$4$ the meanness of 
402:287;23['  ]| present objects their capabilities of treatment from their 
402:287;24['  ]| relations to$4$ some grand Past or Future.  How has Raphael 
402:287;25['  ]| ~~ we must still linger about the Vatican ~~ treated the humble 
402:287;26['  ]| craft of the shipbuilder, in$4$ \his\ Building of the Ark?  It is in$4$ 
402:287;27['  ]| that$6#2$ scriptural series, to$4$ which$6#1$ we have referred, and which$6#1$, 
402:287;28['  ]| judging from some fine rough old graphic sketches of them 
402:287;29['  ]| which$6#1$ we possess, seem to$9$ be of a higher and more poetic 
402:287;30['  ]| grade than even the Cartoons.  The dim of sight are the timid 
402:287;31['  ]| and the shrinking.  There is a cowardice in$4$ modern art.  As 
402:287;32['  ]| the Frenchman, of whom Coleridge's friend made the prophetic 
402:287;33['  ]| guess at Rome, from the beard and horns of the Moses 
402:287;34['  ]| of Michael*Angelo collected no$2$ inferences beyond that$6#2$ of a 
402:287;35['  ]| He*Goat and a Cornuto; so$3$ from this subject, of mere 
402:287;36['  ]| mechanic promise, it would instinctively turn away, as from 
402:287;37['  ]| one incapable of investiture with any grandeur.  The dockyards 
402:287;38['  ]| at Woolwich would object derogatory associations.  The 
402:287;39['  ]| depo^t at Chatham would be the mote and the beam in$4$ its 
402:287;40['  ]| intellectual eye.  But not to$4$ the nautical preparations in$4$ the 
402:287;41['  ]| ship-yards of Civita*Vecchia did Raphael look for$4$ instructions, 
402:287;42['  ]| when he imagined the building of the Vessel that$6#1$ was to$9$ be 
402:288;01['  ]| conservatory of the wrecks of the species of drowned mankind.  
402:288;02['  ]| In$4$ the intensity of the action, he keeps ever out of sight the 
402:288;03['  ]| meanness of the operation.  There is the Patriarch, in$4$ calm 
402:288;04['  ]| forethought, and with holy prescience, giving directions.  
402:288;05['  ]| And there are his agents ~~ the solitary but sufficient Three ~~ 
402:288;06['  ]| hewing, sawing, every one with the might and earnestness 
402:288;07['  ]| of a Demiurgus; under some instinctive rather than technical 
402:288;08['  ]| guidance!  giant-muscled; every one a Hercules, or liker to$4$ 
402:288;09['  ]| those Vulcanian*Three, that$6#1$ in$4$ sounding caverns under 
402:288;10['  ]| Mongibello wrought in$4$ fire ~~ Brontes, and black Steropes, 
402:288;11['  ]| and Pyracmon.  So$5#2$ work the workmen that$6#1$ should repair 
402:288;12['  ]| a world!  
402:288;13['  ]| Artists again err in$4$ the confounding of \poetic\ with \pictorial\ 
402:288;14['  ]| \subjects\.  In$4$ the latter, the exterior accidents are nearly everything, 
402:288;15['  ]| the unseen qualities as nothing.  Othello's colour ~~ the 
402:288;16['  ]| infirmities and corpulence of a Sir*John*Falstaff ~~ do they 
402:288;17['  ]| haunt us perpetually in$4$ the reading?  or are they obtruded 
402:288;18['  ]| upon$4$ our conception one time for$4$ ninety-nine that$3$ we are 
402:288;19['  ]| lost in$4$ admiration of the respective moral or intellectual 
402:288;20['  ]| attributes of the character?  But in$4$ a picture Othello is \always\ 
402:288;21['  ]| a Blackamoor; and the other only Plump*Jack.  Deeply 
402:288;22['  ]| corporealised, and enchained hopelessly in$4$ the grovelling 
402:288;23['  ]| fetters of externality, must be the mind, to$4$ which$6#1$, in$4$ its 
402:288;24['  ]| better moments, the image of the high-souled, high-intelligenced 
402:288;25['  ]| Quixote ~~  the errant Star*of*Knighthood, made more 
402:288;26['  ]| tender by$4$ eclipse ~~ has never presented itself divested from 
402:288;27['  ]| the unhallowed accompaniment of a Sancho, or a rabblement 
402:288;28['  ]| at the heels of Rosinante.  That$6#2$ man has read his book by$4$ 
402:288;29['  ]| halves; he has laughed, mistaking his author's purport, which$6#1$ 
402:288;30['  ]| was ~~ tears.  The artist that$6#1$ pictures Quixote (and it is in$4$ 
402:288;31['  ]| this degrading point that$3$ he is every season held up$5$ at our 
402:288;32['  ]| Exhibitions) in$4$ the shallow hope of exciting mirth, would 
402:288;33['  ]| have joined the rabble at the heels of his starved steed.  We 
402:288;34['  ]| wish not to$9$ see \that$6#2$\ counterfeited, which$6#1$ we would not have 
402:288;35['  ]| wished to$9$ see in$4$ the reality.  Conscious of the heroic inside of 
402:288;36['  ]| the noble Quixote, who$6#1$, on$4$ hearing that$3$ his withered person 
402:288;37['  ]| was passing, would have stepped over his threshold to$9$ gaze 
402:288;38['  ]| upon$4$ his forlorn habiliments, and the 
402:288;38@z   | ""strange bed-fellows 
402:288;39@z   | which$6#1$ misery brings a man acquainted with""?  
402:288;39['  ]| Shade of 
402:288;40['  ]| Cervantes!  who$6#1$ in$4$ thy Second*Part could put into the mouth 
402:288;41['  ]| of thy Quixote those high aspirations of a super-chivalrous 
402:288;42['  ]| gallantry, where he replies to$4$ one of the shepherdesses, 
402:289;01['  ]| apprehensive that$3$ he would spoil their pretty net-works, and 
402:289;02['  ]| inviting him to$9$ be a guest with them, in$4$ accents like$4$ these:  
402:289;03[Z  ]| ""Truly, fairest Lady, Acta*eon was not more astonished when 
402:289;04[Z  ]| he saw Diana bathing herself at the fountain, than I have 
402:289;05[Z  ]| been in$4$ beholding your beauty:  I commend the manner of 
402:289;06[Z  ]| your pastime, and thank you for$4$ your kind offers; and, if 
402:289;07[Z  ]| I may serve you, so$3$ I may be sure you will$1$ be obeyed, you
402:289;08[Z  ]| may command me:  for$3$ my profession is this, To$9$ show myself 
402:289;09[Z  ]| thankful, and a doer of good to$4$ all sorts of people, especially 
402:289;10[Z  ]| of the rank that$6#1$ your person shows you to$9$ be; and if those 
402:289;11[Z  ]| nets, as they take up$5$ but a little piece of ground, should take 
402:289;12[Z  ]| up$5$ the whole world, I would seek out new worlds to$9$ pass 
402:289;13[Z  ]| through, rather than break them:  and 
402:289;13['  ]| (he adds) 
402:289;13[Z  ]| that$3$ you 
402:289;14[Z  ]| may give credit to$4$ this my exaggeration, behold at least he 
402:289;15[Z  ]| that$6#1$ promiseth you this, is Don*Quixote*de*la*Mancha, if 
402:289;16[Z  ]| haply this name hath come to$4$ your hearing."" 
402:289;16['  ]| Illustrious 
402:289;17['  ]| Romancer!  were the ""fine frenzies,"" which$6#1$ possessed the brain 
402:289;18['  ]| of thy own Quixote, a fit subject, as in$4$ this Second*Part, to$9$ 
402:289;19['  ]| be exposed to$4$ the jeers of Duennas and Serving-men?  to$9$ 
402:289;20['  ]| be monstered, and shown up$5$ at the heartless banquets of 
402:289;21['  ]| great men?  Was that$6#2$ pitiable infirmity, which$6#1$ in$4$ thy First*Part 
402:289;22['  ]| misleads him, \always from within\, into half-ludicrous, 
402:289;23['  ]| but more than half-compassionable and admirable errors, 
402:289;24['  ]| not infliction enough from heaven, that$3$ men by$4$ studied 
402:289;25['  ]| artifices must devise and practise upon$4$ the humour, to$9$ inflame 
402:289;26['  ]| where they should soothe it?  Why, Goneril would have 
402:289;27['  ]| blushed to$9$ practise upon$4$ the abdicated king at this rate, 
402:289;28['  ]| and the she-wolf Regan not have endured to$9$ play the pranks 
402:289;29['  ]| upon$4$ his fled wits, which$6#1$ thou hast made thy Quixote suffer 
402:289;30['  ]| in$4$ Duchesses' halls, and at the hands of that$6#2$ unworthy 
402:289;31['  ]| nobleman.  
402:289;32['  ]| In$4$ the First*Adventures, even, it needed all the art of 
402:289;33['  ]| the most consummate artist in$4$ the Book way that$6#1$ the world 
402:289;34['  ]| hath yet seen, to$9$ keep up$5$ in$4$ the mind of the reader the heroic 
402:289;35['  ]| attributes of the character without relaxing;  so$3$ as absolutely 
402:289;36['  ]| that$3$ they shall suffer no$2$ alloy from the debasing fellowship 
402:289;37['  ]| of the clown.  If it ever obtrudes itself as a disharmony, are 
402:289;38['  ]| we inclined to$9$ laugh; or not, rather, to$9$ indulge a contrary 
402:289;39['  ]| emotion?  ~~ Cervantes, stung, perchance, by$4$ the relish with 
402:289;40['  ]| which$6#1$ \his\ Reading*Public had received the fooleries of the 
402:290;01['  ]| man, more to$4$ their palates than the generosities of the master, 
402:290;02['  ]| in$4$ the sequel let his pen run riot, lost the harmony and the 
402:290;03['  ]| balance, and sacrificed a great idea to$4$ the taste of his contemporaries.  
402:290;04['  ]| We know that$3$ in$4$ the present day the Knight 
402:290;05['  ]| has fewer admirers than the Squire.  Anticipating, what did 
402:290;06['  ]| actually happen to$4$ him ~~ as afterwards it did to$4$ his scarce 
402:290;07['  ]| inferior follower, the Author of ""Guzman*de*Alfarache"" ~~  
402:290;08['  ]| that$6#1$ some less knowing hand would prevent him by$4$ a spurious 
402:290;09['  ]| Second*Part; and judging that$3$ it would be easier for$4$ his 
402:290;10['  ]| competitor to$9$ outbid him in$4$ the comicalities, than in$4$ the 
402:290;11['  ]| \romance\, of his work, he abandoned his Knight, and has fairly 
402:290;12['  ]| set up$5$ the Squire for$4$ his Hero.  For$4$ what else has he unsealed 
402:290;13['  ]| the eyes of Sancho?  and instead of that$6#2$ twilight state of 
402:290;14['  ]| semi-insanity ~~ the madness at second-hand ~~ the contagion, 
402:290;15['  ]| caught from a stronger mind infected ~~ that$6#2$ war between 
402:290;16['  ]| native cunning, and hereditary deference, with which$6#1$ he 
402:290;17['  ]| has hitherto accompanied his master ~~ two for$4$ a pair almost 
402:290;18['  ]| ~~ does he substitute a downright Knave, with open eyes, 
402:290;19['  ]| for$4$ his own ends only following a confessed Madman; and 
402:290;20['  ]| offering at one time to$9$ lay, if not actually laying, hands upon$4$ 
402:290;21['  ]| him!  From the moment that$6#1$ Sancho loses his reverence, Don*Quixote 
402:290;22['  ]| is become ~~ a treatable lunatic.  Our artists handle 
402:290;23['  ]| him accordingly.  
501:339;00@@@@@|
501:339;00['  ]| <THOMAS*BABINGTON, LORD*MACAULAY> 
501:339;00['  ]| <1800-1859> 
501:339;00['  ]| <DEATH OF CHARLES*THE*SECOND> 
501:339;01['  ]| The death of King*Charles*the*Second took the nation 
501:339;02['  ]| by$4$ surprise.  His frame was naturally strong, and did 
501:339;03['  ]| not appear to$9$ have suffered from excess.  He had 
501:339;04['  ]| always been mindful of his health even in$4$ his pleasures; 
501:339;05['  ]| and his habits were such as promise a long life and a 
501:339;06['  ]| robust old age.  Indolent as he was on$4$ all occasions 
501:339;07['  ]| which$6#1$ required tension of the mind, he was active and 
501:339;08['  ]| persevering in$4$ bodily exercise.  He had, when young, 
501:339;09['  ]| been renowned as a tennis player, and was, even in$4$ the 
501:339;10['  ]| decline of life, an indefatigable walker.  His ordinary 
501:339;11['  ]| pace was such that$3$ those who$6#1$ were admitted to$4$ the 
501:339;12['  ]| honour of his society found it difficult to$9$ keep up$5$ with 
501:339;13['  ]| him.  He rose early, and generally passed three or 
501:339;14['  ]| four hours a day in$4$ the open air.  He might be seen, 
501:339;15['  ]| before the dew was off the grass in$4$ Saint*James's*Park, 
501:339;16['  ]| striding among the trees, playing with his spaniels, and 
501:339;17['  ]| flinging corn to$4$ his ducks; and these exhibitions 
501:340;01['  ]| endeared him to$4$ the common people, who$6#1$ always love 
501:340;02['  ]| to$9$ see the great unbend. 
501:340;03['  ]| At length, towards the close of the year 1684, he 
501:340;04['  ]| was prevented, by$4$ a slight atack of what was supposed 
501:340;05['  ]| to$9$ be gout, from rambling as usual.  He now spent his 
501:340;06['  ]| mornings in$4$ his laboratory, where he amused himself 
501:340;07['  ]| with experiments on$4$ the properties of mercury.  His 
501:340;08['  ]| temper seemed to$9$ have suffered from confinement.  He 
501:340;09['  ]| had no$2$ apparent cause for$4$ disquiet.  His kingdom was 
501:340;10['  ]| tranquil; he was not in$4$ pressing want of money; his 
501:340;11['  ]| power was greater than it had ever been; the party 
501:340;12['  ]| which$6#1$ had long thwarted him had been beaten down; 
501:340;13['  ]| but the cheerfulness which$6#1$ had supported him against 
501:340;14['  ]| adverse fortune had vanished in$4$ this season of prosperity. 
501:340;15['  ]| A trifle now sufficed to$9$ depress those elastic spirits 
501:340;16['  ]| which$6#1$ had borne up$5$ against defeat, exile, and penury. 
501:340;17['  ]| His irriration frequently showed itself by$4$ looks and 
501:340;18['  ]| words such as could hardly have been expected from a 
501:340;19['  ]| man so$5#1$ eminently distinguished by$4$ good humour and 
501:340;20['  ]| good breeding.  It was not supposed, however, that$3$ 
501:340;21['  ]| his constitution was seriously impaired. 
501:340;22['  ]| His palace had seldom presented a gayer or a more 
501:340;23['  ]| scandalous appearance than on$4$ the evening of Sunday 
501:340;24['  ]| the first of February 1685.  Some grave persons who$6#1$ 
501:340;25['  ]| had gone thither, after the fashion of that$6#2$ age, to$9$ pay 
501:340;26['  ]| their duty to$4$ their sovereign, and who$6#1$ had expected 
501:340;27['  ]| that$3$, on$4$ such a day, his court would wear a decent 
501:340;28['  ]| aspect, were struck with astonishment and horror.  The 
501:340;29['  ]| great gallery of Whitehall, an admirable relic of the 
501:340;30['  ]| magnificence of the Tudors, was crowded with revellers 
501:340;31['  ]| and gamblers.  The King sate there chatting and 
501:340;32['  ]| toying with three women, whose charms were the boast, 
501:340;33['  ]| and whose vices were the disgrace, of three nations. 
501:340;34['  ]| Barbara*Palmer, Duchess*of*Cleveland, was there, no$2$ 
501:340;35['  ]| longer young, but still retaining some traces of that$6#2$ 
501:340;36['  ]| superb and voluptuous loveliness which$6#1$ twenty years 
501:340;37['  ]| before overcame the hearts of all men.  There too was 
501:340;38['  ]| the Duchess*of*Portsmouth, whose soft and infantine 
501:340;39['  ]| features were lighted up$5$ with the vivacity of France. 
501:340;40['  ]| Hortensia*Mancini, Duchess*of*Mazarin, and niece of the 
501:341;01['  ]| great Cardinal, completed the group.  She had been early 
501:341;02['  ]| removed from her native Italy to$4$ the court where her 
501:341;03['  ]| uncle was supreme.  His power and her own attractions 
501:341;04['  ]| had drawn a crowd of illustrious suitors round her. 
501:341;05['  ]| Charles himself, during his exile, had sought her hand 
501:341;06['  ]| in$4$ vain.  No$2$ gift of nature or of fortune seemed to$9$ be 
501:341;07['  ]| wanting to$4$ her.  Her face was beautiful with the rich 
501:341;08['  ]| beauty of the South, her understanding quick, her 
501:341;09['  ]| manners graceful, her rank exalted, her possessions 
501:341;10['  ]| immense; but her ungovernable passions had turned 
501:341;11['  ]| all these blessings into curses.  She had found the 
501:341;12['  ]| misery of an ill assorted marriage intolerable, had fled 
501:341;13['  ]| from her husband, had abandoned her vast wealth, and, 
501:341;14['  ]| after having astonished Rome and Piedmont by$4$ her 
501:341;15['  ]| adventures, had fixed her abode in$4$ England.  Her 
501:341;16['  ]| house was the favourite resort of men of wit and 
501:341;17['  ]| pleasure, who$6#1$, for$4$ the sake of her smiles and her 
501:341;18['  ]| table, endured her frequent fits of insolence and ill 
501:341;19['  ]| humour.  Rochester and Godolphin sometimes forgot 
501:341;20['  ]| the cares of state in$4$ her company.  Barillon and Saint*Evremond 
501:341;21['  ]| found in$4$ her drawing*room consolation for$4$ 
501:341;22['  ]| their long banishment from Paris.  The learning of 
501:341;23['  ]| Vossius, the wit of Waller, were daily employed to$9$ 
501:341;24['  ]| flatter and amuse her.  But her diseased mind required 
501:341;25['  ]| stronger stimulants, and sought them in$4$ gallantry, in$4$ 
501:341;26['  ]| basset, and in$4$ usquebaugh.  While Charles flirted with 
501:341;27['  ]| his three sultanas, Hortensia's French page, a handsome 
501:341;28['  ]| boy, whose vocal performances were the delight of 
501:341;29['  ]| Whitehall, and were rewarded by$4$ numerous presents 
501:341;30['  ]| of rich clothes, ponies, and guineas, warbled some 
501:341;31['  ]| amorous verses.  A party of twenty courtiers was 
501:341;32['  ]| seated at cards round a large table on$4$ which$6#1$ gold was 
501:341;33['  ]| heaped in$4$ mountains.  Even then the King had complained 
501:341;34['  ]| that$3$ he did not feel quite well.  He had no$2$ 
501:341;35['  ]| appetite for$4$ his supper; his rest that$6#2$ night was broken; 
501:341;36['  ]| but on$4$ the following morning he rose, as usual, early. 
501:341;37['  ]| To$4$ that$6#2$ morning the contending factions in$4$ his 
501:341;38['  ]| council had, during some days, looked forward with 
501:341;39['  ]| anxiety.  The struggle between Halifax and Rochester 
501:341;40['  ]| seemed to$9$ be approaching a decisive crisis.  Halifax, 
501:342;01['  ]| not content with having already driven his rival from 
501:342;02['  ]| the Board*of*Treasury, had undertaken to$9$ prove him 
501:342;03['  ]| guilty of such dishonesty or neglect in$4$ the conduct of 
501:342;04['  ]| the finances as ought to$9$ be punished by$4$ dismission from 
501:342;05['  ]| the public service.  It was even whispered that$3$ the 
501:342;06['  ]| Lord*President would probably be sent to$4$ the Tower. 
501:342;07['  ]| The King had promised to$9$ enquire into the matter. 
501:342;08['  ]| The second of February had been fixed for$4$ the investigation; 
501:342;09['  ]| and several officers of the revenue had 
501:342;10['  ]| been ordered to$9$ attend to$4$ their books on$4$ that$6#2$ day. 
501:342;11['  ]| But a great turn of fortune was at hand. 
501:342;12['  ]| Scarcely had Charles risen from his bed when his 
501:342;13['  ]| attendants perceived that$3$ his utterance was indistinct, 
501:342;14['  ]| and that$3$ his thoughts seemed to$9$ be wandering.  Several 
501:342;15['  ]| men of rank had, as usual, assembled to$9$ see their 
501:342;16['  ]| sovereign shaved and dressed.  He made an effort to$9$ 
501:342;17['  ]| converse with them in$4$ his usual gay style; but his 
501:342;18['  ]| ghastly look surprised and alarmed them.  Soon his 
501:342;19['  ]| face grew black; his eyes turned in$4$ his head; he 
501:342;20['  ]| uttered, a cry, staggered, and fell into the arms of one 
501:342;21['  ]| of his lords.  A physician who$6#1$ had charge of the royal 
501:342;22['  ]| retorts and crucibles happened to$9$ be present.  He had 
501:342;23['  ]| no$2$ lancet; but he opened a vein with a penknife.  The 
501:342;24['  ]| blood flowed freely; but the King was still insensible. 
501:342;25['  ]| He was laid on$4$ his bed, where, during a short time, 
501:342;26['  ]| the Duchess*of*Portsmouth, hung over him with the 
501:342;27['  ]| familiarity of a wife.  But the alarm had been given. 
501:342;28['  ]| The Queen and the Duchess*of*York were hastening 
501:342;29['  ]| to$4$ the room.  The favourite concubine was forced to$9$ 
501:342;30['  ]| retire to$4$ her own apartments.  Those apartments had 
501:342;31['  ]| been thrice pulled down and thrice rebuilt by$4$ her lover 
501:342;32['  ]| to$9$ gratify her caprice.  The very furniture of the 
501:342;33['  ]| chimney was massive silver.  Several fine paintings, 
501:342;34['  ]| which$6#1$ properly belonged to$4$ the Queen, had been transferred 
501:342;35['  ]| to$4$ the dwelling of the mistress.  The side-boards 
501:342;36['  ]| were piled with richly wrought plate.  In$4$ the 
501:342;37['  ]| niches stood cabinets, the masterpieces of Japanese art. 
501:342;38['  ]| On$4$ the hangings, fresh from the looms of Paris, were 
501:342;39['  ]| depicted, in$4$ tints which$6#1$ no$2$ English tapestry could 
501:342;40['  ]| rival, birds of gorgeous plumage, landscapes, hunting 
501:343;01['  ]| matches, the lordly terrace of Saint*Germains, the 
501:343;02['  ]| statues and fountains of Versailles.  In$4$ the midst of 
501:343;03['  ]| this splendour, purchased by$4$ guilt and shame, the 
501:343;04['  ]| unhappy woman gave herself up$5$ to$4$ an agony of grief, 
501:343;05['  ]| which$6#1$, to$9$ do her justice, was not wholly selfish. 
501:343;06['  ]| And now the gates of Whitehall, which$6#1$ ordinarily 
501:343;07['  ]| stood open to$4$ all comers, were closed.  But persons 
501:343;08['  ]| whose faces were known were still permitted to$9$ enter. 
501:343;09['  ]| The antechambers and galleries were soon filled to$4$ 
501:343;10['  ]| overflowing; and even the sick*room was crowded with 
501:343;11['  ]| peers, privy councillors, and foreign ministers.  All 
501:343;12['  ]| the medical men of note in$4$ London were summoned. 
501:343;13['  ]| So$5#1$ high did political animosities run that$3$ the presence 
501:343;14['  ]| of some Whig physicians was regarded as an extraordinary 
501:343;15['  ]| circumstance.  One Roman*Catholic whose 
501:343;16['  ]| skill was then widely renowned, Doctor*Thomas*Short, 
501:343;17['  ]| was in$4$ attendance.  Several of the prescriptions have 
501:343;18['  ]| been preserved.  One of them is signed by$4$ fourteen 
501:343;19['  ]| Doctors.  The patient was bled largely.  Hot iron 
501:343;20['  ]| was applied to$4$ his head.  A loathsome volatile salt, 
501:343;21['  ]| extracted from human skulls, was forced into his mouth. 
501:343;22['  ]| He recovered his senses; but he was evidently in$4$ a 
501:343;23['  ]| situation of extreme danger. 
501:343;24['  ]| The Queen was for$4$ a time assiduous in$4$ her attendance. 
501:343;25['  ]| The Duke*of*York scarcely left his brother's 
501:343;26['  ]| bedside.  The Primate and four other Bishops were 
501:343;27['  ]| then in$4$ London.  They remained at Whitehall all day, 
501:343;28['  ]| and took it by$4$ turns to$9$ sit up$5$ at night in$4$ the King's 
501:343;29['  ]| room.  The news of his illness filled the capital with 
501:343;30['  ]| sorrow and dismay.  For$3$ his easy temper and affable 
501:343;31['  ]| manners had won the affection of a large part of the 
501:343;32['  ]| nation; and those who$6#1$ most disliked him preferred his 
501:343;33['  ]| unprinciple levity to$4$ the stern and earnest bigotry of 
501:343;34['  ]| his brother. 
501:343;35['  ]| On$4$ the morning of Thursday the fifth of February, 
501:343;36['  ]| the London*Gazette announced that$3$ His*Majesty was 
501:343;37['  ]| going on$5$ well, and was thought by$4$ the physicians to$9$ 
501:343;38['  ]| be out of danger.  The bells of all the churches rang 
501:343;39['  ]| merrily; and preparations for$4$ bonfires were made in$4$ 
501:343;40['  ]| the streets.  But in$4$ the evening it was known that$3$ a 
501:344;01['  ]| relapse had taken place, and that$3$ the medical attendants 
501:344;02['  ]| had given up$5$ all hope.  The public mind was greatly 
501:344;03['  ]| disturbed; but there was no$2$ disposition to$4$ tumult. 
501:344;04['  ]| The Duke*of*York, who$6#1$ had already taken on$4$ himself 
501:344;05['  ]| to$9$ give orders, ascertained that$3$ the City was perfectly 
501:344;06['  ]| quiet, and that$3$ he might without difficulty be proclaimed 
501:344;07['  ]| as soon as his brother should expire. 
501:344;08['  ]| The King was in$4$ great pain, and complained that$3$ he 
501:344;09['  ]| felt as if a fire was burning within him.  Yet he bore 
501:344;10['  ]| up$5$ against his sufferings with a fortitude which$6#1$ did not 
501:344;11['  ]| seem to$9$ belong to$4$ his soft and luxurious nature.  The 
501:344;12['  ]| sight of his misery affected his wife so$5#1$ much that$3$ such 
501:344;13['  ]| fainted, and was carried senseless to$4$ her chamber.  The 
501:344;14['  ]| Prelates who$6#1$ were in$4$ waiting had from the first exhorted 
501:344;15['  ]| him to$9$ prepare for$4$ his end.  They now thought it their 
501:344;16['  ]| duty to$9$ address him in$4$ a still more urgent manner. 
501:344;17['  ]| William*Sancroft, Archbishop*of*Canterbury, an honest 
501:344;18['  ]| and pious, though narrow-minded, man, used great 
501:344;19['  ]| freedom.  
501:344;19[W  ]| ""It is time,"" 
501:344;19['  ]| he said, 
501:344;19[W  ]| ""to$9$ speak out; for$3$, Sir, 
501:344;20[W  ]| you are about to$9$ appear before a Judge who$6#1$ is no$2$ 
501:344;21[W  ]| respecter of persons."" 
501:344;21['  ]| The King answered not a word. 
501:344;22['  ]| Thomas*Ken, Bishop*of*Bath*and*Wells, then tried 
501:344;23['  ]| his powers of persuasion.  He was a man of parts and 
501:344;24['  ]| learning, of quick sensibility and stainless virtue.  His 
501:344;25['  ]| elaborate works have long been forgotten; but his 
501:344;26['  ]| morning and evening hymns are still repeated daily in$4$ 
501:344;27['  ]| thousands of dwellings.  Though, like$4$ most of his order, 
501:344;28['  ]| zealous for$4$ monarchy, he was no$2$ sycophant.  Before he 
501:344;29['  ]| became a Bishop, he had maintained the honour of his 
501:344;30['  ]| gown by$4$ refusing, when the court was at Winchester, 
501:344;31['  ]| to$9$ let Eleanor*Gwynn lodge in$4$ the house which$6#1$ he 
501:344;32['  ]| occupied there as a prebendary.  The King had sense 
501:344;33['  ]| enough to$9$ respect so$5#1$ manly a spirit.  Of all the prelates 
501:344;34['  ]| he liked Ken the best.  It was to$4$ no$2$ purpose, however, 
501:344;35['  ]| that$3$ the good Bishop now put forth all his eloquence. 
501:344;36['  ]| His solemn and pathetic exhortation awed and melted 
501:344;37['  ]| the bystanders to$4$ such a degree that$3$ some among them 
501:344;38['  ]| believed him to$9$ be filled with the same spirit which$6#1$, in$4$ 
501:344;39['  ]| the old time, had, by$4$ the mouths of Nathan and Elias, 
501:344;40['  ]| called sinful princes to$4$ repentance.  Charles, however, 
501:345;01['  ]| was unmoved.  He made no$2$ objection indeed when the 
501:345;02['  ]| service for$4$ the Visitation*of*the*Sick was read.  In$4$ 
501:345;03['  ]| reply to$4$ the pressing questions of the divines, he said 
501:345;04['  ]| that$3$ he was sorry for$4$ what he had done amiss; and he 
501:345;05['  ]| suffered the absolution to$9$ be pronounced over him 
501:345;06['  ]| according to$4$ the forms of the Church*of*England:  but, 
501:345;07['  ]| when he was urged to$9$ declare that$3$ he died in$4$ the Communion 
501:345;08['  ]| of that$6#2$ Church, he seemed not to$9$ hear what 
501:345;09['  ]| was said; and nothing could induce him to$9$ take the 
501:345;10['  ]| Eucharist from the hands of the Bishops.  A table with 
501:345;11['  ]| bread and wine was brought to$4$ his bedside, but in$4$ vain. 
501:345;12['  ]| Sometimes he said that$3$ there was no$2$ hurry, and sometimes 
501:345;13['  ]| that$3$ he was too weak. 
501:345;14['  ]| Many attributed this apathy to$4$ contempt for$4$ divine 
501:345;15['  ]| things, and many to$4$ the stupor which$6#1$ often precedes 
501:345;16['  ]| death.  But there were in$4$ the palace a few persons 
501:345;17['  ]| who$6#1$ knew better.  Charles had never been a sincere 
501:345;18['  ]| member of the Established*Church.  His mind had 
501:345;19['  ]| long oscillated between Hobbism and Popery.  When 
501:345;20['  ]| his health was good and his spirit high, he was a 
501:345;21['  ]| scoffer.  In$4$ his few serious moments he was a Roman*Catholic. 
501:345;22['  ]| The Duke*of*York was aware of this, but was 
501:345;23['  ]| entirely occupied with the care of his own interests. 
501:345;24['  ]| He had ordered the outports to$9$ be closed.  He had 
501:345;25['  ]| posted detachments of the Guards in$4$ different parts of 
501:345;26['  ]| the City.  He had also procured the feeble signature 
501:345;27['  ]| of the dying King to$4$ an instrument by$4$ which$6#1$ some 
501:345;28['  ]| duties, granted only till the demise of the Crown, were 
501:345;29['  ]| let to$4$ farm for$4$ a term of three years.  These things 
501:345;30['  ]| occupied the attention of James to$4$ such a degree that$3$, 
501:345;31['  ]| though, on$4$ ordinary occasions, he was indiscreetly and 
501:345;32['  ]| unseasonably eager to$9$ bring over proselytes to$4$ his 
501:345;33['  ]| Church, he never reflected that$3$ his brother was in$4$ 
501:345;34['  ]| danger of dying without the last sacraments.  This 
501:345;35['  ]| neglect was the more extraordinary because the Duchess*of*York 
501:345;36['  ]| had, at the request of the Queen, suggested, 
501:345;37['  ]| on$4$ the morning on$4$ which$6#1$ the King was taken ill, the 
501:345;38['  ]| propriety of procuring spiritual assistance.  For$4$ such 
501:345;39['  ]| assistance Charles was at last indebted to$4$ an agency 
501:345;40['  ]| very different from that$6#2$ of his pious wife and sister-in-law. 
501:346;01['  ]| A life of frivolity and vice had not extinguished in$4$ 
501:346;02['  ]| the Duchess*of*Portsmouth all sentiments of religion, 
501:346;03['  ]| or all the kindness which$6#1$ is the glory of her sex. 
501:346;04['  ]| The French ambassador Barillon, who$6#1$ had come to$4$ 
501:346;05['  ]| the palace to$9$ inquire after the King, paid her a visit. 
501:346;06['  ]| He found her in$4$ an agony of sorrow.  She took him 
501:346;07['  ]| into a secret room and poured out her whole heart to$4$ 
501:346;08['  ]| him.  
501:346;08[V  ]| ""I have,"" 
501:346;08['  ]| she said, 
501:346;08[V  ]| ""a thing of great moment to$9$ tell 
501:346;09[V  ]| you.  If it were known, my heard would be in$4$ danger. 
501:346;10[V  ]| The King is really and truly a Catholic; but he will$1$ 
501:346;11[V  ]| die without being reconciled to$4$ the Church.  His bed-chamber 
501:346;12[V  ]| is full of Protestant clergymen.  I cannot 
501:346;13[V  ]| enter it without giving scandal.  The Duke is thinking 
501:346;14[V  ]| only of himself.  Speak to$4$ him.  Remind him that$3$ there 
501:346;15[V  ]| is a soul at stake.  He is master now.  He can clear 
501:346;16[V  ]| the room.  Go this instant, or it will$1$ be too late."" 
501:346;17['  ]| Barillon hastened to$4$ the bedchamber, took the Duke 
501:346;18['  ]| aside, and delivered the message of the mistress.  The 
501:346;19['  ]| conscience of James smote him.  He started as if 
501:346;20['  ]| roused from sleep, and declared that$3$ nothing should 
501:346;21['  ]| prevent him from discharging the sacred duty which$6#1$ 
501:346;22['  ]| had been too long delayed.  Several schemes were 
501:346;23['  ]| discussed and rejected.  At last the Duke commanded 
501:346;24['  ]| the crowd to$9$ stand aloof, went to$4$ the bed, stooped 
501:346;25['  ]| down, and whispered something which$6#1$ none of the 
501:346;26['  ]| spectators could hear, but which$6#1$ they supposed to$9$ be 
501:346;27['  ]| some question about affairs of state.  Charles answered 
501:346;28['  ]| in$4$ an audible voice, 
501:346;28[W  ]| ""Yes, yes, with all my heart."" 
501:346;29['  ]| None of the bystanders, except the French*Ambassador, 
501:346;30['  ]| guessed that$3$ the King was declaring his wish to$9$ be 
501:346;31['  ]| admitted into the bosom of the Church*of*Rome. 
501:346;32[W  ]| ""Shall I bring a priest?""  
501:346;32['  ]| said the Duke.  
501:346;32[W  ]| ""Do, 
501:346;33[W  ]| brother,"" 
501:346;33['  ]| replied the sick man.  
501:346;33[W  ]| ""For$4$ God's sake do, 
501:346;34[W  ]| and lose no$2$ time.  But no$7$; you will$1$ get into trouble."" 
501:346;35[W  ]| ""If it costs me my life,"" 
501:346;35['  ]| said the Duke, 
501:346;35[W  ]| ""I will$1$ fetch a 
501:346;36[W  ]| priest."" 
501:346;37['  ]| To$9$ find a priest, however, for$4$ such a purpose, at a 
501:346;38['  ]| moment's notice, was not easy.  For$3$, as the law then 
501:346;39['  ]| stood, the person who$6#1$ admitted a proselyte into the 
501:346;40['  ]| Roman*Catholic*Church was guilty of a capital crime. 
501:347;01['  ]| The Count*of*Castel*Melhor, a Portuguese nobleman, 
501:347;02['  ]| who$6#1$, driven by$4$ political troubles from his native land, 
501:347;03['  ]| had been hospitably received at the English court, 
501:347;04['  ]| undertook to$9$ procure a confessor.  He had recourse to$4$ 
501:347;05['  ]| his countrymen who$6#1$ belonged to$4$ the Queen's household; 
501:347;06['  ]| but he found that$3$ none of her chaplains knew Engligh 
501:347;07['  ]| or French enough to$9$ shrive the King.  The Duke and 
501:347;08['  ]| Barillon were about to$9$ send to$4$ the Venetian minister 
501:347;09['  ]| for$4$ a clergyman, when they heard that$3$ a Benedictine 
501:347;10['  ]| monk, named John*Huddleston, happened to$9$ be at 
501:347;11['  ]| Whitehall.  This man had, with great risk to$4$ himself, 
501:347;12['  ]| saved the King's life after the battle of Worcester, and 
501:347;13['  ]| had, on$4$ that$6#2$ account, been, even since the Restoration, 
501:347;14['  ]| a privileged person.  In$4$ the sharpest proclamations 
501:347;15['  ]| which$6#1$  had been put forth against Popish priests, when 
501:347;16['  ]| false witnesses had inflamed the nation to$4$ fury, 
501:347;17['  ]| Huddleston had been excepted by$4$ name.  He readily 
501:347;18['  ]| consented to$9$ put his life a second time in$4$ peril for$4$ his 
501:347;19['  ]| prince; but there was still a difficulty.  The honest 
501:347;20['  ]| monk was so$5#1$ illiterate that$3$ he did not know what he 
501:347;21['  ]| ought to$9$ say on$4$ an occasion of such importance.  He 
501:347;22['  ]| however obtained some hints, through the intervention 
501:347;23['  ]| of Castel*Melhor, from a Portuguese ecclesiastic, and, 
501:347;24['  ]| thus intructed, was brought up$4$ the back*stairs by$4$ 
501:347;25['  ]| Chiffinch, a confidential servant, who$6#1$, if the satires of 
501:347;26['  ]| that$6#2$ age are to$9$ be credited, had often introduced 
501:347;27['  ]| visitors of a very different description by$4$ the same 
501:347;28['  ]| entrance.  The Duke then, in$4$ the King's name, commanded 
501:347;29['  ]| all who$6#1$ were present to$9$ quit the room, except 
501:347;30['  ]| Lewis*Duras, Earl*of*Feversham, and John*Granville, 
501:347;31['  ]| Earle*of*Bath.  Both these Lords professed the Protestant*Religion; 
501:347;32['  ]| but James conceived that$3$ he could 
501:347;33['  ]| count on$4$ their fidelity.  Feversham, a Frenchman of 
501:347;34['  ]| noble birth, and nephew of the great Turenne, held 
501:347;35['  ]| high rank in$4$ the English army, and was chamberlain 
501:347;36['  ]| to$4$ the Queen.  Bath was Groom of the Stole. 
501:347;37['  ]| The Duke's orders were obeyed; and even the 
501:347;38['  ]| physicians withdrew.  The back door was then opened; 
501:347;39['  ]| and Father*Huddleston entered.  A cloak had been 
501:347;40['  ]| thrown over his sacred vestments; and his shaven 
501:348;01['  ]| crown was concealed by$4$ a flowing wig.  
501:348;01[W  ]| ""Sir,"" 
501:348;01['  ]| said the 
501:348;02['  ]| Duke, 
501:348;02[W  ]| ""this good man once saved your life.  He now 
501:348;03[W  ]| comes to$9$ save your soul."" 
501:348;03['  ]| Charles faintly answered, 
501:348;04[W  ]| ""He is welcome."" 
501:348;04['  ]| Huddleston went through his part 
501:348;05['  ]| better than had been expected.  He knelt by$4$ the bed, 
501:348;06['  ]| listened to$4$ the confession, pronounced the absolution, 
501:348;07['  ]| and administered extreme*unction.  He asked if the 
501:348;08['  ]| King wished to$9$ receive the Lord's supper.  
501:348;08[W  ]| ""Surely,"" 
501:348;09['  ]| said Charles, 
501:348;09[W  ]| ""if I am not unworthy."" 
501:348;09['  ]| The host was 
501:348;10['  ]| brought in$5$.  Charles feebly strove to$9$ rise and kneel 
501:348;11['  ]| before it.  The priest bade him lie still, and assured 
501:348;12['  ]| him that$3$ God would accept the humiliation of the soul, 
501:348;13['  ]| and would not require the humiliation of the body. 
501:348;14['  ]| The King found so$5#1$ much difficulty in$4$ swallowing the 
501:348;15['  ]| bread that$3$ it was necessary to$9$ open the door and procure 
501:348;16['  ]| a glass of water.  This rite ended, the monk held 
501:348;17['  ]| up$5$ a crucifix before the penitent, charged him to$9$ fix 
501:348;18['  ]| his last thoughts on$4$ the sufferings of the Redeemer, 
501:348;19['  ]| and withdrew.  The whole ceremony had occupied 
501:348;20['  ]| about three quarters of an hour; and, during that$6#2$ 
501:348;21['  ]| time, the courtiers who$6#1$ filled the outer room had communicated 
501:348;22['  ]| their suspicions to$4$ each other by$4$ whispers 
501:348;23['  ]| and significant glances.  The door was at length thrown 
501:348;24['  ]| open, and the crowd again filled the chamber of 
501:348;25['  ]| death. 
501:348;26['  ]| It was now late in$4$ the evening.  The King seemed 
501:348;27['  ]| much relieved by$4$ what had passed.  His natural children 
501:348;28['  ]| were brought to$4$ his bedside, the Dukes*of*Grafton, 
501:348;29['  ]| Southampton, and Northumberland, sons of the Duchess*of*Cleveland, 
501:348;30['  ]| the Duke*of*Saint*Albans, son of Eleanor*Gwynn, 
501:348;31['  ]| and the Duke*of*Richmond, son of the Duchess*of*Portsmouth. 
501:348;32['  ]| Charles blessed them all, but spoke 
501:348;33['  ]| with peculiar tenderness to$4$ Richmond.  One face which$6#1$ 
501:348;34['  ]| should have been there was wanting.  The eldest and 
501:348;35['  ]| best beloved child was an exile and a wanderer.  His 
501:348;36['  ]| name was not once mentioned by$4$ his father. 
501:348;37['  ]| During the night Charles earnestly recommended the 
501:348;38['  ]| Duchess*of*Portsmouth and her boy to$4$ the care of 
501:348;39['  ]| James; 
501:348;39[W  ]| ""And do not,"" 
501:348;39['  ]| he good-naturedly added, 
501:348;39[W  ]| ""let 
501:348;40[W  ]| poor Nelly starve."" 
501:348;40['  ]| The Queen sent excuses for$4$ her 
501:349;01['  ]| absence by$4$ Halifax.  She said that$3$ she was too much 
501:349;02['  ]| disordered to$9$ resume her post by$4$ the couch, and implored 
501:349;03['  ]| pardon for$4$ any offence which$6#1$ she might unwittingly 
501:349;04['  ]| have given.  
501:349;04[W  ]| ""She ask my pardon, poor woman!"" 
501:349;05['  ]| cried Charles; 
501:349;05[W  ]| ""I ask hers with all my heart."" 
501:349;06['  ]| The morning light began to$9$ peep through the windows 
501:349;07['  ]| of Whitehall, and Charles desired the attendants to$9$ 
501:349;08['  ]| pull aside the curtains, that$3$ he might have one more 
501:349;09['  ]| look at the day.  He remarked that$3$ it was time to$9$ wind 
501:349;10['  ]| up$5$ a clock which$6#1$ stood near his bed.  These little 
501:349;11['  ]| circumstances were long remembered, because they 
501:349;12['  ]| proved beyond dispute that$3$, when he declared himself 
501:349;13['  ]| a Roman*Catholic, he was in$4$ full possession of his 
501:349;14['  ]| faculties.  He apologised to$4$ those who$6#1$ stood round him 
501:349;15['  ]| all night for$4$ the trouble which$6#1$ he had caused.  He had 
501:349;16['  ]| been, he said, a most unconscionable time dying; but 
501:349;17['  ]| he hoped that$3$ they would excuse it.  This was the last 
501:349;18['  ]| glimpse of that$6#2$ exquisite urbanity, so$5#1$ often found potent 
501:349;19['  ]| to$9$ charm away the resentment of a justly incensed 
501:349;20['  ]| nation.  Soon after dawn the speech of the dying man 
501:349;21['  ]| failed.  Before ten his senses were gone.  Great numbers 
501:349;22['  ]| had repaired to$4$ the churches at the hour of morning 
501:349;23['  ]| service.  When the prayer for$4$ the King was read, loud 
501:349;24['  ]| groans and sobs showed how deeply his people felt for$4$ 
501:349;25['  ]| him.  At noon on$4$ Friday, the sixth of February, he 
501:349;26['  ]| passed away without a struggle.  ~~ <\History*of*England\.>