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 English • Classic • Series 
 
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 $ 
 
 
 CAXTON and DANIEL 
 
 *7^fe 
 
 •SELECTIONS 
 
 ^ 
 
English Classic Series. 
 
 KEIXOGG'S EDITIONS. 
 
 Shakespeare's Plays. 
 
 JBacb'flMaE in ©ne Volume. 
 
 Text Carefully Expurgated for Use in Mixed Classes. 
 
 With Portrait, Notes, Introduction to Shakespeare's Grammar, Exam- 
 ination Papers and Plan of Study. 
 
 (SELECTED.) 
 
 By BRAINERD KELLOGG, LL D 
 
 an/one of th e B £t\% ^^^%^^£Z^}^S^^ n 
 
 En IEo^^ emineDt 
 
 The following Plays, each in one volume, are now ready : 
 
 As You Like It 
 
 Merchant of Venice. 
 Julius Caesar, 
 Macbeth. 
 Tempest. 
 Hamlet. 
 
 King Henry V. 
 
 King Lear. 
 
 Othello. 
 
 King Henry IV., Part I. 
 
 King Henry VIII. 
 
 King Richard III. 
 
 A Midsummer-Night's Dream, 
 
 A Winter's Tale 
 , Twelfth Night. 
 Mailing price, 30 cents per copy. Special Price to Teachers 
 
 Historical Classic Readings. 
 
 With Introductions and Explanatory Notes. 
 
 For Classes in History, Beading, and Literature. 
 
 The following numbers, uniform in style and size, are now ready: 
 
 Discovery of America. Washington 
 Irving. 
 
 2. Settlement of Virginia. Capt. John 
 
 OMITH. 
 
 3. History of Plymouth Plantation. Gov. 
 
 William Bradford. 
 
 4. King Philip's War, and Witchcraft in 
 
 New England. Gov. Thomas 
 Hutchinson. 
 Discovery and Exploration of the Mis- 
 
 From SO to 6* gages each Price, 12 cents per copy; $1.20 ver 
 dozen; $9.00 per hundred; $80.00 per thousand. P 
 
 Specval Prices to Teachers. 
 Other Numbers in Preparation. 
 
 Full Descriptive Catalogue sent on application. 
 
 sissippi Valley. John Gilmary 
 
 DHEA. 
 
 6. Champlain and his Associates. Fran- 
 cis Parkman. 
 
 7. Brad dock's Defeat. Francis Park- 
 
 MAN. 
 
 8. First Battles of the Revolution. Ed- 
 ward Everett. 
 
 9. Colonial Pioneers. James Parton. 
 10. Heroes of the Revolution. James 
 
 Parton 
 
ENGLISH CLASSIC SERIES.— No. 99. 
 
 Caxton and Daniel 
 
 Selections. 
 
 Being Extracts from Caxton's Prefaces, and 
 Daniel's Musophilus. 
 
 
 OTttij SntrolructCon anti Hvplanatorn Notes 
 By J. Scott Clark, 
 
 PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH CRITICISM, SYRACUSE UNIVERSITY. 
 
 1AR 19 189: 
 
 i 
 
 NEW YORK : 
 
 Effingham Maynard & Co., Publishers, 
 
 771 Broadway and 67 & 69 Ninth Street. 
 
 New Series, No. 9. February ), 1S92. Published Seini-weekly. Subscription Price, $]t; 
 Entered at Post OflBce, New York, as Second-class Matter. 
 
; 'T 
 
 A Complete Course in the Study of English. 
 
 Spelling, Language, Grammar, Composition, Literature. 
 
 Reed's Word Lessons-A Complete Speller. 
 Reed's Introductory Language Work. 
 
 Reed & Kellogcs Graded Lessons in English. 
 Reed & Kellogcs Higher Lessons in English. 
 
 Reed & Kellogg's One-Book Course in English. 
 Kellogcs Text-Book on Rhetoric. 
 
 Kellogcs Text-Book on English Literature. 
 
 In the preparation of this series the authors have had one object 
 clearly in view — to so develop the study of the English language as 
 to present a complete, progressive course, from the Spelling-Book to 
 the study of English Literature. The troublesome contradictions 
 which arise in using books arranged by different authors on these 
 subjects, and which require much time for explanation in the school- 
 room, will be avoided by the use of the above "Complete Course." 
 
 Teachers are earnestly invited to examine these books. 
 
 EFFINGHAM MAYNARD & Co., Publishers, 
 
 77 1 Broadway, New York. 
 
 Copyright, 1892, 
 By EFFINGHAM MAYNARD & CO. 
 
 
CAXTON'S PREFACES. 
 
 WILLIAM CAXTON, 
 
 1412(?)-1491(?). 
 
 The dates assigned for Caxton's birth vary from 1412 to 1422. 
 We know from his own statement that he was born in " the Weald 
 of Kent. " He seems to have been the son of a farmer. In 1439 he 
 was apprenticed to a wealthy London mercer. At the death of 
 the latter, in 1841, Caxton went to Bruges, apparently as the 
 traveling agent or factor of the Company of Mercers of London. 
 In 14G2 or 1463 he seems to have become governor of a chartered 
 association of English adventurers trading to foreign parts. On 
 the marriage of Edward IV. 's sister, Margaret, to Charles, Duke 
 of Burgundy, in 1468 or a little later, Caxton entered the service 
 of the Duchess, probably as her business agent. Bruges, then the 
 Duke's capital, was a center of literary as well as commercial 
 activity. Book-collecting and book-making were then highly in 
 fashion at the Duke's court, and Caxton, who seems to have 
 caught the contagion, began by translating into English a worth- 
 less version of the history of Troy, written by a royal chaplain, 
 one Le Fevre. Meantime Caxton seems to have learned the. art of 
 printing from one Colard Mansion, then a well-known printer of 
 Bruges. Accordingly, Caxton put through the press in 1474 the 
 first book printed in the English language under the title "The 
 Recuyell of the Histories of Troye." Caxton seems to have 
 printed several other books during his residence in Bruges, notably 
 his " Game and Play of the Chesse." There has been much dis- 
 pute as to the exact date of his return to England and of his first 
 printing there, but we have his own statement that his book " The 
 Dictes and Sayinges of Philosophies " was printed in England in 
 1477 ; for upon the title page of this book we read : " Emprynted 
 
 3 
 
4 CAXTON S PREFACES. 
 
 by me William Caxton, at Westminster, the yere of our Lord 
 MGCCCLXXVII." His press seems to have been situated " at the 
 sign of '-he Red Pale in the Almonry at Westminster." At least, 
 it was somewhere beneath the roof of the great abbey that the first 
 book was printed in England. Caxton printed at least sixty-four 
 books, of which thirty-eight survive in whole or in part. Many 
 of these books were translations made by Caxton himself. His 
 own compositions are confined mostly to prefaces and introduc- 
 tions. He died about 1491. The most prominent traits of 
 Caxton's character as apparent in his writings are : — (1) frank 
 simplicity, often taking the form of a personal confession to his 
 reader ; (2) fervent piety and faith in God ; (3) a high sense of 
 honor in both literary and economical affairs : (4) grave, sly 
 humor. 
 
caxton's prefaces. 
 
 Extracts from Caxton's Prefaces. 
 
 When I remember that every man is bounden by the com- 
 mandment and counsel of the wise man to eschew sloth and 
 idleness, which is mother and nurse of vices, and ought to put 
 myself unto virtuous occupation and business, then I, having 
 no great charge or occupation, following the said counsel, took 
 a French book and read therein many strange marvellous his- 
 tories, wherein I had great pleasure and delight, as well for 
 the novelty of the same, as for the fair language of the French, 
 which was in prose so well and compendiously set and written, 
 methought I understood the sentence and substance of every 
 matter. And for so much as this book was new and late made 
 and drawn into French, and never had seen it in our English 
 tongue, I thought in myself it should be a good business to 
 translate it into our English, to the end that it might be had 
 as well in the royaume of England as in other lands, and also 
 for to pass therewith the time, and thus concluded in myself 
 to begin this said work, and forthwith took pen and ink and 
 began boldly to run forth, as blind Bayard, in this present 
 work. . . . When all these things [his " simpleness and unper- 
 fectness " in the French and English languages] came before 
 me after that I had made and written five or six quires, I fell 
 in despair of this work and purposed no more to have con- 
 tinued therein, and the quires laid apart ; and in two years 
 after laboured no more at this work, and was fully in will to 
 have left it. Till on a time it fortuned that the right high, 
 excellent, and right virtuous princess, my right redoubted 
 lady, my lady Margaret, . . . sent for me to speak with her 
 good grace of divers matters, among the which I let her high- 
 ness have knowledge of the aforesaid beginning of this work ; 
 which anon commanded me to show the said five or six quires 
 to her said grace. And when she had seen them, anon she 
 
6 CAXTON S PREFACES. 
 
 found defaute [fault] in the English, which she commanded 
 me to amend, and moreover commanded me straightly to con- 
 tinue and make an end of the residue then not translated. 
 Whose dreadful commandment I durst in no wise disobey, 
 because I am a servant unto her said grace, and receive of her 
 yearly fee, and many other good and great benefits, and also 
 hope many more to receive of her highness ; but forthwith 
 went and laboured in the said translation after my simple and 
 poor cunning, all so nigh as I can following mine author, 
 meekly beseeching the bounteous highness of my said lady, 
 that of her benevolence list to accept and take in gree [take 
 kindly] this simple and rude work. . . . And forasmuch as I 
 suppose the said two books be not had before this time in our 
 English language, therefore I had the better will to accomplish 
 the said work ; which work was begun in Bruges and con- 
 tinued in Gaunt [Ghent], and finished in Cologne, in time of 
 the troublous world, and of the great divisions being and 
 reigning as well in the royaumes of England and France as in 
 all other places universally through the world, that is to wit, 
 the year of our Lord one thousand four hundred and seventy- 
 one. . . . Because that I have now good leisure, being in 
 Cologne, and having none other thing to do at this time in 
 eschewing of idleness, mother of all vices, I have deliberated 
 in myself of the contemplation of my said redoubted lady, to 
 take this labor in hand. . . . Thus end I this [the third] book, 
 which I have translated after mine author, as nigh as God 
 hath given me cunning, to whom be given laud and praises. 
 An for as much as in the writing of the same my pen is worn, 
 mine hand weary and not stedfast, mine eyen dimmed with 
 overmuch looking on the white paper, and my courage not so 
 prone and ready to labour as it hath been, and that age creep- 
 eth on me daily and feebleth all the body ; and also because I 
 have promised to divers gentlemen and to my Mends to ad- 
 dress them as hastily as I might this said book, therefore I 
 have practiced and learned at my great charge and dispense 
 [expense], to ordain this said book in print, after the manner 
 and form as you may here see ; and is not written with pen 
 
and ink as other books are, to the end that every man may 
 have them at once. For all the books of this story, named the 
 " Reeuyell of the Historyes of Troye," thus imprinted as ye 
 here see, were begun in one day, and also finished in one day. 
 Which book I presented to my said redoubted lady as afore is 
 said, and she hath well accepted it and largely rewarded me. 
 — To the Reeuyell. 
 
 I have emprised and concluded in myself to reduce this said 
 book into our English, as all along and plainly ye may read, 
 hear, and see in this book here following. Beseeching all 
 them that find fault in the same to correct and amend it, and 
 also to pardon me of the rude and simple reducing. And 
 though there be no gay terms, nor subtle, nor new eloquence, 
 yet I hope that it shall be understood, and to that intent I 
 have specially reduced it after the simple cunning that God 
 hath lent me, whereof I humbly and with all my heart thank 
 Him, and also am bounden to pray for my father's and 
 mother's souls, that in my youth set me to school, by which, 
 by the sufferance of God, I get my living I hope truly. And 
 that I may do so and continue, I beseech Him to grant me of 
 his grace ; and so to labor and occupy myself virtuously, that 
 I may come out of debt and deadly sin, that after this life I 
 may come to His bliss in heaven. — To the Life of Charles the 
 Great, 1485. 
 
 Unto the noble, ancient, and renowned city, the city of 
 London in England, I, William Caxton, citizen and con jury 
 [sworn fellow] of the same and of the fraternity and fellowship 
 of the Mercery, owe of right my service and good will ; and 
 of very duty am bounden naturally to assist, aid, and counsel, 
 as farforth as I can to my power, as to my mother of whom I 
 have received my nurture and living ; and shall pray for the 
 good prosperity and policy of the same during my life. For 
 as me seemeth it is of great need, by cause I have known it in 
 my young age much more wealthy, prosperous, and richer 
 than it is at this day ; and the cause is that there is almost 
 
8 
 
 none that intendeth to the common weal, but only every man 
 for his singular profit. — To the Book called " Catlion," 1483. 
 
 Some gentlemen late blamed me, sayiug that in my trans- 
 lations I had over-curious terms which could not be under- 
 stood of common people, and desired me to use old and homely 
 terms in my translations. And fain would I satisfy every man; 
 and so to do, took an old book and read therein ; and certainly 
 the English was so rude and broad that I could not well under- 
 stand it. And also my Lord Abbot of Westminster did show 
 to me late certain evidences written in old English, for to 
 reduce it into our English now used, and certainly it was 
 written in such wise that it was more like to Dutch than 
 English ; I could not reduce nor bring it to be understood. 
 And certainly our language now used varieth far from that 
 which was used and spoken when I was born : for we English- 
 men be born under the denomination of the moon, which is 
 never steadfast, but ever wavering, waxing one season, and 
 waneth and decreaseth another season ; and that common 
 English that is spoken in one shire varieth from another. In- 
 somuch that in my days happened that certain merchants were 
 in a ship in Thames for to have sailed over the sea into 
 Zealand, and for lack of wind they tarried at Foreland, and 
 went to land for to refresh them ; and one of them named 
 Sheffelde, a mercer, came into an house and asked for meat, 
 and especially he asked for eggs ; and the good wife answered 
 that she could speak no French ; and the merchant was angry, 
 for he also could speak no French, but would have had eggs ; 
 but she understood him not. And then at last another said 
 that he would have eyren ; then the good wife said that she 
 understood him well. Lo, what should a man in these days 
 now write, eggs or eyren ? Certainly it is hard to please every 
 man, by cause of diversity and change of language. For in these 
 days every man that is in any reputation in his country will 
 utter his communication and matters in such manners and 
 terms that few men shall understand them. And some honest 
 and good clerks [scholars] have been with me, and desired me 
 
to write the most curious terms that I could find. And thus 
 between plain, rude, and curious, I stand abashed ; but in my 
 judgment the common terms that be daily used be lighter 
 [easier] to be understood than the old and ancient English. — 
 To a Book Printed in 1490. 
 
 Great thanks, laud, and honour ought to be given to the 
 clerks, poets, and historiographs that have written many noble 
 books of wisdom of the lives, passions, and miracles of holy 
 saints,of historiesof noble and famous acts and faits [deeds], and 
 of the chronicles sith the beginning of the creation of the world 
 unto this present time ; by which we are daily informed and 
 have knowledge of many things, of whom we should not have 
 known if they had not left to us their monuments written. 
 Amongst whom, and in especial before all other, we ought to 
 gave a singular laud unto that noble and great philosopher, 
 Geoffrey Chaucer, the which, for his ornate writing in our 
 tongue, may well have the name of a laureat poet. For before 
 that he, by his labour, embellished, ornated, and made fair 
 our English, in this royaume [kingdom] was had rude speech 
 and incongrue [incongruous], as yet it appeareth by old books, 
 which at this day ought not to have place nor be compared 
 among, nor to his beauteous volumes and ornate writings, of 
 whom he made many books and treatises of many a noble his- 
 tory, as well in metre as in rhyme and prose ; and them so 
 craftily made, that he comprehended his matters in short, 
 quick, and high sentences. ; eschewing prolixity, casting away 
 the chaff of superfluity, and shewing the picked grain of sen- 
 tence, uttered by crafty and sugared eloquence. ... Of which 
 book [" The Canterbury Tales"] so incorrect was one brought 
 to me six years passed, which I supposed had been very true 
 and correct, and according to the same I did imprint a certain 
 number of them, which anon were sold to many and divers 
 gentlemen : of whom one gentleman came to me and said that 
 this book was not according in many places unto the book that 
 Geoffrey Chaucer had made. To whom I answered that I had 
 made it according to my copy, and by me was nothing added 
 
10 caxton's prefaces. 
 
 nor diminished. Then he said he knew a book which his 
 father had and much loved, that was very true and according 
 unto his own first book by him made ; and said more, if I 
 would imprint it again he would get me the same book for a 
 copy. How be it, he wist well his father would not gladly part 
 from it ; to whom I said in case he could get me such a book 
 true and correct, that I would once endeavor me to imprint it 
 again, for to satisfy the author : whereas before by ignorance 
 I erred in hurting and defaming his book in divers places, in 
 setting in some things that he never said nor made, and leaving 
 out many things that he made which are requisite to be set in. 
 And thus «we fell at accord ; and he full gently got me of his 
 father the said book, and delivered it to me, by which I have 
 corrected my book. — To his Second Edition of the Canterbury 
 Tales. 
 
 Which work [Chaucer's " Book of Fame "J as me seemeth, is 
 craftily made, and worthy to be written and known : for he 
 toucheth in it right great wisdom and subtle understanding ; 
 and so in all his works he excelleth, in mine opinion, all other 
 writers in our English ; for he writeth no void words, but all 
 his matter is full of high and quick sentence, to whom ought 
 to be given laud and praising for his noble making and writ- 
 ing. For of him all other have borrowed sith, and taken in 
 all their well saying and writing. — To Chaucer's Book of 
 Fame. 
 
 Oh, ye knights of England, where is the custom and usage 
 of noble chivalry that was used in those days ? What do ye 
 now but go to the baynes [baths] and play at dice ? And some, 
 not well advised, use not honest and good rule against all order 
 of knighthood. Leave this, leave it ! and read the noble 
 volumes of St. Graal of Lancelot, of Galaad, of Trystram, 
 of Perse Forest, of Percyval, of Gawayn, and many more : 
 there shall ye see manhood, courtesy, and gentleness. And 
 look in latter days of the noble acts sith the Conquest, as 
 in King Richard days, Coeur de Lion, Edward I. and III. 
 
11 
 
 and his noble sons, Sir Robert Knolles, Sir John Hawkwood, 
 Sir John Chandos, Sir Gneltiare Manny. Read Froissart ; 
 and also behold that victorious and noble King Harry V., 
 and the captains under him, his noble brethren, the earls 
 of Salisbury, Montague, and many other, whose names shine 
 gloriously by their virtuous noblesse and acts that they did in 
 the honour of the order of chivalry. Alas, what do ye but 
 sleep and take ease, and are all disordered from chivalry ? 
 ****** 
 
 How many knights be there now in England that have the 
 use and exercise of a knight ? that is to wit, that he knoweth 
 his horse and his horse him ; that is to say, he being ready at 
 a point to have all thing that belongeth to a knight, an horse 
 that is according and broken after his hand, his armour and 
 harness suit, and so forth, et cetera. I suppose, an a due 
 search should be made, there should be many founden that 
 lack : the more pity is ! I would it pleased our sovereign 
 Lord that twice or thrice a year, or at the least once, he would 
 cry jousts of peace, to the end that every knight should have 
 horse and harness, and also the use and craft of a knight, and 
 also to tourney one against one, or two against two ; and 
 the best to have a prize, a diamond or jewel, such as should 
 please the prince. This should cause gentlemen to resort to 
 the ancient customs of chivalry to great fame and renown: 
 and also to be alway ready to serve their prince when he shall 
 call them or have need. — To the Book of the Order of Chiv- 
 alry. 
 
 At such a time as he [Lord Rivers] had accomplished this 
 said work, it liked him to send it to me in certain quires to 
 oversee. . . . And so afterward I came unto my said lord, and 
 told him how I had read and seen his book, and that he had 
 done a meritorious deed in the labour of the translation there- 
 of. .. . Then my said lord desired me to oversee it, and 
 where as I should find fault to correct it, wherein I answered 
 unto his lordship that I could not amend it. . . . Notwith- 
 standing he willed me to oversee it. ... I find that my said 
 
12 caxton\s prefaces. 
 
 lord hath left out certain and divers conclusions touching 
 women. Whereof I marvelled that my said lord hath not 
 writ on them, nor what hath moved him so to do, nor what 
 cause he had at that time. But I suppose that some fair lady 
 hath desired him to leave it out of his book ; or else he was 
 amorous on some noble lady, for whose love he would not set 
 it in his book ; or else for the very affection, love, and good 
 will that he hath unto all ladies and gentlewomen, he thought 
 that Socrates spared the sooth, and wrote of women more than 
 truth ; which I cannot think that so true a man and so noble 
 a philosopher as Socrates was, should write otherwise than 
 truth. For if he had made fault in writing of women, he 
 ought not or should not be believed in his other Dictes and 
 Sayings. But I perceive that my said lord knoweth verily that 
 such defaults be not had nor found in the women born and 
 dwelling in these parts nor regions of the world. Socrates 
 was a Greek, born in a far country from hence, which country 
 is all of other conditions than this is, and men and women of 
 other nature that they be here in this country ; for I wot- 
 well, of whatsoever condition women be in Greece, the women 
 of this country be right good, wise, pleasant, humble, dis- 
 creet, sober, chaste, obedient to their husbands, true, secret, 
 stedfast, ever busy, and never idle, attemporate in speaking, 
 and virtuous in all their works ; or at least should be so. For 
 which causes so evident, my said lord, as I suppose, thought 
 it not of necessity to set in his book the sayings of his author 
 Socrates touching women. — To the Dictes and Sayings of 
 Philosophers. 
 
 I have submysed [submitted] myself to translate into Eng- 
 lish the "Legend of Saints," called " Legenda aurea" in 
 Latin ; and William, Earl of Arundel, desired me — and 
 promised to take a reasonable quantity of them — and sent me 
 a worshipful gentleman, promising that my said lord should 
 during my life give and grant to me a yearly fee, that is to 
 note, a buck in summer and a doe in winter. — To Legends of 
 Saints. 
 
CAXTOX'S PREFACES. 13 
 
 Now then I will finish all these fables with this tale that 
 folioweth, which a worshipful priest and a parson told me 
 late : he said that there were dwelling at Oxenford two priests, 
 both Masters of Arts — of whom that one was quick and could 
 put himself forth ; and that other was a good simple priest. 
 And so it happened that the master was pert and quick, and 
 was anon promoted to a benefice or twain, and after to pre- 
 bends, and for to be a dean of .a great prince's chapel, suppos- 
 ing and weening that his fellow, the simple priest, should never 
 be promoted, but be always an annual, or, at the most, a 
 parish priest. So after a long time that this worshipful man, 
 this dean, came running into a good parish with five or seven 
 horses, like a prelate, and came into the church of said parish, 
 and found there this good simple man, sometime his fellow, 
 which came and welcomed him lowly. And that other bade 
 him ' ' good morrow, Master John, " and took him slightly by 
 the hand, and axed him where he dwelt. And the good man 
 said, " In this parish." " How," said he, are ye here a sole 
 priest, or a parish priest ?" " Nay, sir," said he, " for lack of 
 a better, though I am not able nor worthy, I am parson and 
 curate of this parish." And then that other vailed [lowered] 
 his bonnet and said, "Master Parson, I pray you to be not 
 displeased ; I had supposed ye had not been beneficed. " " But, 
 master," said he, "I pray you what is this benefice worth to 
 you a year?" "Forsooth," said the good simple man, "I 
 wot never ; for I make never accompts thereof, how well I 
 have had it four or five years." " And know ye not," said he, 
 " what it is worth ?— it should seem a good benefice." " No, 
 forsooth," said he, " but I wot well what it shall be worth to 
 me." " Why," said he, " 'what shall it be worth ? " " For- 
 sooth," said he, "if T do my true dealing in the cure of my 
 parishes in preaching and teaching, and do my part belonging 
 to my cure, I shall have heaven therefore. And if their souls 
 be lost, or any of them, by my default, I shall be punished 
 therefore. And hereof I am sure." And with that word the 
 rich dean was abashed : and thought he should be the better, 
 and take more heed to his cures and his benefices than he had 
 
14 
 
 done. This was a good answer of a good priest and an honest. 
 And. herewith I finish this book, translated and imprinted by 
 me, William Caxton. — To the " Subtil Histories and Fables of 
 Esqp." 
 
 This book is not requisite nor eke convenient for every rude 
 and simple man, which understandeth not of science nor 
 cunning, and for such as have not heard of the noble policy 
 and prudence of the Romans ; but for noble, wise, and great 
 lords, gentlemen, and merchants, that have been and daily be 
 occupied in matter touching the public weal : and in especial 
 unto them that been passed their green age, and eke their 
 middle age, called virility, and been approached unto senectute, 
 called old and ancient age. Wherein they may see how to 
 suffer and bear the same patiently; and what surety and 
 virtue been in the same, and have also cause to be joyous and 
 glad that they have escaped and passed the manifold perils 
 and doubteous adventures that been in juvente and youth, 
 as in this said book here following ye may more plainly see. 
 — To Cicero' 1 9 Treafise on Old Age. 
 
 Forasmuch as this present book is not for a rude uplandish 
 man to labor therein, nor read it, but only for a clerk and a 
 noble gentleman that feeleth and understandeth in faits of 
 arms, in love, and in noble chivalry : therefore, in mean be- 
 tween both I have reduced and translated this said book into 
 our English, not over rude nor curious, but in such terms as 
 shall be understanclen, by God's grace, according to my copy. 
 — To the JEneid of Virgil. 
 
 Which book I had long to fore sold to my said lady, and 
 knew well that the story of it was honest and joyful to all 
 virtuous young noble gentlemen and women, for to read 
 therein as for their pastime. For under correction, in my 
 judgment, histories of noble feats and valiant acts of arms and 
 war, which have been achieved in old time of many noble 
 princes, lords, and knights, are as well for to see and know their 
 
15 
 
 valiantness for to stand in the special grace and love of their 
 ladies, and in likewise for gentle young ladies and demoiselles 
 for to learn to be stedfast and constant in their part to them 
 that they once have promised and agreed to, such as have 
 put their lives oft in jeopardy for to please them to stand in 
 grace, as it is to occupy the ken and study overmuch in books 
 of contemplation. — To the History of King Blanchardine and 
 Queen Eglantine, his Wife. 
 
 After that I had accomplished and finished divers histories, 
 as well of contemplation as of other historial and worldly 
 acts of great conquerors and princes, and also certain books 
 of ensamples and doctrine, many noble and divers gentlemen 
 of this realm of England came and demanded me many and 
 ofttimes, wherefore that I have not do made and imprint the 
 noble history of the Saint Greal, and of the most renowned 
 Christian king, first and chief of the three best Christian, and 
 worthy, King Arthur, which ought most to be remembered 
 amongst us Englishmen tofore all other Christian kings ; for 
 it is notoriously known through the universal world, that 
 there be nine worthy and the Lest that ever were, that is to 
 wit, three Paynims, three Jews, and three Christian men. As 
 for Paynims, they were tofore the Incarnation of Christ, 
 which were named, the first Hector of Troy, of whom the 
 history is comen both in ballad and in prose, the second 
 Alexander the Great, and the third Julius Caesar, Emperor of 
 Rome, of whom the histories be well known and had. And as 
 for the three Jews, which also were tofore the incarnation of 
 our Lord, of whom the first was duke Joshua which brought 
 the children of Israel into the land of behest, the second 
 David King of Jerusalem, and the third Judas Machabeus. Of 
 these three the Bible rehearseth all their noble histories and 
 acts. And since the said incarnation have been three noble 
 Christian men, stalled and admitted through the universal 
 world into the number of the nine best and worthy. Of 
 whom was first the noble Arthur, whose noble acts I purpose 
 to write in this present book here following. The second was 
 
16 caxton's prefaces. 
 
 Charlemain, or Charles the Great, of whom the history is had 
 in many places, both in French and in English. And the 
 third and last was Godfrey of Boloine, of whose acts and life 
 I made a book unto the excellent prince and king of noble 
 memory, King Edward the Fourth. The said noble gentlemen 
 instantly required me to imprint the history of the said noble 
 king and conqueror King Arthur, and of his knights, with the 
 history of the Saint Greal, and of the death and ending of the 
 said Arthur ; affirming that I ought rather to imprint his acts 
 and noble feats, than of Godfrey of Boloine, or any of the 
 other eight, considering that he was a man born within this 
 realm, and king and emperor of the same ; and that there be 
 in French divers and many noble volumes of his acts, and also 
 of his knights. To whom I answered that divers men hold 
 opinion that there was no such Arthur, and that all such books 
 as been made of him, be but feigned and fables, because that 
 some chronicles make of him no mention, nor remember him 
 nothing, nor of his knights. "Whereto they answered, and 
 one in special said, that in him that should say or think that 
 there was never such a king called Arthur, might well be 
 aretted great folly and blindness. For he said that there were 
 many evidences of the contrary. First ye may see his sepul- 
 chre in the monastery of Glastingbury. And also in Policron- 
 icon, in the fifth book the sixth chapter, and in the seventh 
 book the twenty-third chapter, where his body was buried, 
 and after found, and translated into the said monastery. Ye 
 shall see also in the history of Bochas in his book Be Cam 
 Principum part of his noble acts, and also of his fall. Also 
 Galfridus in his British book recounteth his life : and in di- 
 vers places of England many remembrances be yet of him, 
 and shall remain perpetually, and also of his knights. First 
 in the abbey of Westminster, at St. Edward's shrine, remain- 
 eth the print of his seal in red wax closed in beryl, in which 
 is written, Patricius Arthurus BHtannie, Gallie, Germanie, 
 Dacie, Imperator. Item in the castle of Dover ye may see 
 Gawaine's scull, and Cradok's mantle ; at Winchester the 
 Round Table : in other places Launcelot's sword and many 
 
17 
 
 other things. Then all these things considered, there can no 
 man reasonably gainsay but that there was a king of this land 
 named Arthur. For in all places, Christian and heathen, he 
 is reputed and taken for one of the nine worthy, and the first 
 of the three Christian men. And also, he is more spoken of 
 beyond the sea, more books made of his noble acts, than there 
 be in England, as well in Dutch, Italian, Spanish, and Greek- 
 ish, as in French. And yet of record remain in witness of 
 him in Wales, in the. town of Camelot, the great stones and 
 the marvellous works of iron lying under the ground, and 
 royal vaults, which divers now living have seen. Wherefore 
 it is a marvel why he is no more renowned in his own country, 
 save only it accordeth to the Word of God, which saith that 
 no man is accepted for a prophet in his own country. Then 
 all these things aforesaid alleged, I could not well deny but 
 that there was such a noble king named Arthur, and reputed 
 one of the nine worthy, and first and chief of the Christian 
 men. And many noble volumes be made of him and of his 
 noble knights in French, which I have seen and read beyond 
 the sea, which be not had in our maternal tongue. But in 
 Welsh be many, and also in French, and some in English but 
 no where nigh all. Wherefore, such as have late been drawn out 
 briefly into English I have after the simple conning that God 
 hath sent to me, under the favour and correction of all noble 
 lords and gentlemen, enprised to imprint a book of the noble 
 histories of the said King Arthur, and of certain of his knights, 
 after a copy unto me delivered, which copy Sir Thomas Malorye 
 did take out of certain books of French, and reduced it into 
 English. And I, according to my copy, have down set it in 
 print, to the intent that noble men may see and learn the 
 noble acts of chivalry, the gentle and virtuous deeds that some 
 knights used in those days, by which they came to honour, 
 and how they that were vicious were punished and oft put to 
 shame and rebuke ; humbly beseeching all noble lords and 
 ladies, with all other estates of what estate or degree they 
 been of, that shall see and read in this said book and work, that 
 they take the good and honest acts in their remembrance, and 
 
18 caxton's prefaces. 
 
 to follow the same. Wherein they shall find many joyous and 
 pleasant histories, and noble and renowned acts of humanity, 
 gentleness, and chivalry. For herein may be seen noble chiv- 
 alry, courtesy, humanity, friendliness, hardiness, love, friend- 
 ship, cowardice, murder, hate, virtue, and sin. Do after the 
 good and leave the evil, and it shall bring you to good fame 
 and renommee. And for to pass the time this book shall be 
 pleasant to read in, but for to give faith and belief that all is 
 true that is contained herein, ye* be at your liberty : but all is 
 written for our doctrine, and for to beware that we fall not 
 to vice nor sin, but to exercise and follow virtue, by the which 
 we may come and attain to good fame and renown in this life, 
 and after this short and transitory life to come unto everlast- 
 ing bliss in heaven ; the which He grant us that reigneth in 
 heaven, the blessed Trinity. Amen. 
 
 Then to proceed forth in this said book, the which I direct 
 unto all noble princes, lords and ladies, gentlemen or gentle- 
 women, that desire to read or hear read of the noble and joy- 
 ous history of the great conqueror and excellent king, King 
 Arthur, sometime king of this noble realm, then called Brit- 
 ain ; I, William Caxton, simple person, present this book fol- 
 lowing, which I have emprised to imprint : and treateth of the 
 noble acts, feats of arms of chivalry, prowess, hardiness, hu- 
 manity, love, courtesy, and very gentleness, with many won- 
 derful histories and adventures. And for to understand 
 briefly the content of this volume, I have divided it into XXI 
 Books, and every book chaptered, as hereafter shall by God's 
 grace follow. The First Book shall treat how Uther Pendra- 
 gou gat the noble conqueror King Arthur, and containeth 
 xxviii chapters. The Second Book treateth of Balin the noble 
 knight, and containeth xix chapters. The Third Book treat- 
 eth of the marriage of King Arthur to Queen Guenever, with 
 other matters, and containeth xv chapters. The Fourth Book, 
 how Merlin waa assotted, and of war made to King Arthur, 
 and containeth xxix chapters. The Fifth Book treateth of 
 the conquest of Lucius the emperor, and containeth xii chap- 
 ters. The Sixth Book treateth of Sir Launcelot and Sir Lionel, 
 
in 
 
 and marvelous adventures, and containeth xviii chapters. 
 The Seventh Book treateth of a noble knight called Sir Gar- 
 eth, and named by Sir Kay Beaumains, and containeth xxxvi 
 chapters. The Eighth Book treateth of the birth of Sir Tris- 
 tram the noble knight, and of his acts, and containeth xli 
 chapters. The Ninth Book treateth of a knight named by Sir 
 Kay Le Cote male taille, and also of Sir Tristram, and con- 
 taineth xliv chapters. The Tenth Book treateth of Sir Tris- 
 tram, and other marvelous adventures, and containeth 
 lxxxviii chapters. The Eleventh Book treateth of Sir Laun- 
 celot and Sir Galahad, and containeth xiv chapters. The 
 Twelfth Book treateth of Sir Launcelot and his madness, 
 and containeth xiv chapters. The Thirteenth Book treat- 
 eth how Galahad came first to King Arthur's court, and the 
 quest how the Sangreal was begun, and containeth xx chap- 
 ters. The Fourteenth Book treateth of the quest of the San- 
 greal, and containeth x chapters. The Fifteenth Book 
 treateth of Sir Launcelot, and containeth vi chapters. The 
 Sixteenth Book treateth of Sir Bors and Sir Lionel his brother, 
 and containeth xvii chapters. The Seventeenth Book treat- 
 eth of the Sangreal, and containeth xxiii chapters. The 
 Eighteenth Book treateth of Sir Launcelot and the queen, 
 and containeth xxv chapters. The Nineteenth Book treateth 
 of Queen Guenever and Launcelot, and containeth xiii chap- 
 ters. The Twentieth Book treateth of the piteous death of 
 Arthur, and containeth xxii chapters. The Twenty-first Book 
 treateth of his last departing, and how Sir Launcelot came to 
 revenge his death, and containeth xiii chapters. The sum is 
 twenty-one books, which contain the sum of five hundred and 
 seven chapters, as more plainly shall follow hereafter. — To the 
 Book of King Arthur, 
 
DANIEL. 
 1562-1619. 
 
 Samuel Daniel, the son of a music-master, was born near 
 Taunton, in Somersetshire, in 1562. At seventeen he entered Mag- 
 dalen College, Oxford, as a commoner, where he remained during 
 the next three years, apparently supported by the Pembroke fam- 
 ily. While at Oxford he gave himself principally to the study of 
 history and poetry. After three years he left t4ie university with- 
 out a degree, and pursued his studies for a time at Wilton, under 
 the patronage and encouragement of the Countess of Pembroke, 
 the famous sister of Sir Philip Sidney. Afterward he became 
 tutor to Lady Anne Clifford, and still later enjoyed the patronage 
 of the Earl of Devonshire and that of the Countess of Bedford. 
 He shared also with Shakespeare the patronage of the Earl of 
 Southampton. At the death of Spenser, in 1599, Daniel became 
 what Campbell calls "voluntary laureate" to Queen Elizabeth. 
 On the accession of James, in 1603, Daniel welcomed him in a 
 congratulatory poem, and became " Gentleman Extraordinary" to 
 that monarch and Master of the Bevels. During the reign of Anne 
 he was made one of the Grooms of the Privy Chamber. He died in 
 October, 1619, and was buried at Beckington, where Lady Anne 
 Clifford, then Countess Dowager of Dorset, Pembroke and Mont- 
 gomery, afterward erected a monument to his memory. 
 
 Daniel is said to have enjoyed the friendship of Shakespeare, 
 Marlowe, and Chapman. His character, like his language, was 
 more refined than that of most of his contemporaries. Lowell 
 pronounces him "in all respects a man of finer mold," and adds : 
 • ' Writing two hundred and fifty years ago, he stands in no need 
 of a glossary. . . I think his ' Musophilus ' the finest poem of 
 its kind in the language." The title " the well-languaged Daniel," 
 
 20 
 
DANIEL. 21 
 
 given hiin by Browne, is sustained by an examination of bis works. 
 Tbese are sufficient to fill two respectable volumes. Tbe most 
 important are " A History of the Civil Wars between York and 
 Lancaster" (a poem in eight books, first published in 1604), 
 " Musophilus " (a poem of about one thousand alternately-rhym- 
 ing lines containing a defense of learning), "The Complaint of 
 Rosamond," and " The Defense of Rhyme." To these must be 
 addsd a history of England; two dramas, entitled, respectively, 
 "Philotas" and "Cleopatra;" and numerous sonnets, masques, 
 etc. 
 
 Although most of our text-books classify Daniel simply as 
 one of a large group of second or third rate poets belonging 
 to the Elizabethan era, the best recent criticism seems to agree 
 with Saintsbury when he says: "There are few poets, not 
 of the first class, to whose merits a stronger consensus of 
 weighty opinion can be produced than that which attests the 
 value of Samuel Daniel's work." The qualities of his style, 
 already partially noted, may be summarized thus : — (1) Dig- 
 nified moral reflection ; (2) exquisite grace of imagery and epithet; 
 (3) purity of diction — freedom from archaisms ; (4) smooth, equable 
 verse ; (5) tameness. Daniel has been generally criticised for the 
 lack of boldness and force in his poetry. The natural diffidence of 
 his nature and the enervating influences of court favor seem to 
 have clipped wings that might otherwise have soared to greater 
 heights. To quote Lowell again : " His verse does not snatch 
 you away from ordinary associations and hurry you along with it, 
 as is the wont of the higher kinds of poetry, but leaves you, as it 
 were, upon the bank, watching the peaceful current and lulled by 
 its somewhat monotonous murmur. . . It is very fine English, but 
 it is the English of diplomacy somehow; and is never downright 
 this or that, but always has the honor to be, with sentiments of 
 the highest consideration." 
 
SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 
 
 Musophilus : 
 
 CONTAINING 
 
 A Defense of Learning. 
 
 (To Mr. Fulke Greville.) 
 
 I do not here upon this hum'rous stage 
 
 Bring my transformed verse appareled 
 
 With other's passions, or with others' rage ; 
 
 With loves, with wounds, with factions furnished : 
 
 But here present thee, only modeled 5 
 
 In this poor frame, the form of mine own heart : 
 Where, to revive myself, my muse is led 
 With motions of her own, t' act her own part, 
 Striving to make her own contemned art 
 As fair V herself as possibly she can ; 10 
 
 Lest, seeming of no force, of no desert, 
 She might repent the course that she began ; 
 
 And, with these times of dissolution, fall 
 From goodness, virtue, glory, fame, and all. 
 
 Philocosmus. Fond man, Musophilus, that thus dost 
 spend 15 
 
 In an ungainful art thy dearest days, 
 
 15. Musophilus means a lover of the muses. 
 15. Philocosmus means a lover of the world. 
 
SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 23 
 
 Tiring thy wits, and toiling to no end, 
 
 But to attain that idle smoke of praise ! 
 
 Now when this busy world cannot attend 
 
 Th' untimely music of neglected lays ; 
 
 Other delights than these, other desires, 5 
 
 This wiser profit-seeking age requires. 
 
 Musophilus. Friend Philocosmus, I confess indeed 
 I love this sacred art thou sett'st so light ; 
 And though it never stand my life in stead, 
 It is enough it gives myself delight, 10 
 
 The whilst my unafflicted mind doth feed 
 On no unholy thoughts for benefit. 
 
 Be it, that my unseasonable song 
 Come out of time, that fault is in the time ; 
 And I must not do virtue so much wrong, 15 
 
 As love her aught the worse for others' crime : 
 And yet I find some blessed spir'ts among 
 That cherish me, and like and grace my rhyme. 
 
 Again, that I do more in soul esteem, 
 Than all the gain of dust the world doth crave : 20 
 And if I may attain but to redeem 
 My name from dissolution and the grave ; 
 I shall have done enough ; and better deem 
 T' have lived to be, than to have died to have. 
 
 Short-breath'd mortality would yet extend 25 
 
 That span of life so far forth as it may, 
 And rob her fate ; seek to beguile her end 
 Of some few ling'ring days of after-stay ; 
 That all this little all might not descend 
 Into the dark an universal prey ; 30 
 
 And give our labors yet this poor delight, 
 That when our days do end, they are not done ; 
 And though we die, we shall not perish quite, 
 But live two lives where others have but one. 
 
 Philocosmus. Silly desires of self-abusing man, 35 
 Striving to gain th' inheritance of air. 
 
24 SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 
 
 That having done the uttermost he can, 
 Leaves yet perhaps but beggary t' his heir : 
 All that great purchase of the breath he wan, 
 Feeds not his race, or makes his house more fair. 
 
 And what art thou the better, thus to leave 5 
 
 A multitude of words to small effect ; 
 Which other times may scorn, and so deceive 
 Thy promis'd name of what thou dost expect ? 
 Besides some vip'rous critic may bereave 
 Th' opinion of thy worth for some defect; 10 
 
 And get more reputation of his wit, 
 By but controlling of some word or sense, 
 Than thou shalt honor for contriving it 
 With all thy travel, care, and diligence ; 
 B'ing learning now enough to contradict, 15 
 
 And censure others with bold insolence. 
 
 Besides, so many so confus'dly sing, 
 Whose diverse discords have the music marr'd, 
 And in contempt that mystery doth bring, 
 That he must sing aloud that will be heard. 20 
 
 And the received opinion of the thing, 
 For some unhallow'd string that vilely jarr'd, 
 
 Hath so unseason'd now the ears of men, 
 That who doth touch the tenor of that vein, 
 Is held but vain ; and his unreckon'd pen 25 
 
 The title but of levity doth gain. 
 A poor light gain, to recompense their toil, 
 That thought to get eternity the while ! 
 And therefore leave the left and out-worn course 
 Of unregarded ways, and labor how 80 
 
 To fit the times with what is most in force ; 
 Be new with men's affections that are new : 
 Strive not to run an idle counter-course, 
 Out from the scent of humors men allow. 
 
 For not discreetly to compose our parts 35 
 
 3. Wan, won. 15. B'ing, bringing. 
 
SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 25 
 
 Unto the frame of men (which we must be) 
 
 Is to put off ourselves, and make our arts 
 
 Rebels to nature and society, 
 
 Whereby we come to bury our deserts 
 
 In th' obscure grave of singularity. 5 
 
 Musopliiliis. Do not profane the work of doing well, 
 Seduced man, that can'st not look so high 
 From out that mist of earth, as thou can'st tell 
 The ways of right which virtue doth descry ; 
 That overlooks the base contemptibly, 10 
 
 And low laid follies of mortality. 
 
 Nor mete out truth and right deserving praise 
 By that wrong measure of confusion, 
 The vulgar foot, that never takes his ways 
 By reason, but by invitation ; 15 
 
 Rolling on with the rest, and never weighs 
 The course which he should go, but what is gone. 
 Well were it with mankind, if what the most 
 Did like were best : but ignorance will live 
 By others square, as by example lost. 20 
 
 And man to man must th' hand of error give, 
 That none can fall alone at their own cost ; 
 And all because men judge not, but believe. 
 For what poor bounds have they, whom but th 1 earth 
 
 bounds ? 
 What is their end whereto their care attains ; 25 
 
 When the thing got relieves not, but confounds ; 
 Having but travail to succeed their pains ? 
 What joy hath he of living, that propounds 
 Affliction but his end, and grief his gains ? 
 
 Gath'ring, encroaching, wresting, joining to, 30 
 
 Destroying, building, decking, furnishing, 
 Repairing, alt'r.ing, and so much ado, 
 To his soul's toil, and body's travailing : 
 And all this doth he, little knowing who 
 Fortune ordains to have th' inheriting. 35 
 
26 SELECTIONS FEOM DANIEL. 
 
 And his fair house rais'd high in envy's eye, 
 Whose pillars reared (perhaps) on blood and wrong, 
 The spoils and pillage of iniquity, 
 Who can assure it to continue long ? 
 If rage spar'd not the walls of piety, 5 
 
 Shall the profanest piles of sin keep strong ? 
 
 How many proud, aspiring palaces 
 Have we known made the prey of wrath and pride ; 
 Level'd with fch' earth, left to forgetfulness ; 
 Whilst titlers their pretended rights decide, 10 
 
 Or civil tumults, or an orderless 
 Order ; pretending change of some strong side ? 
 
 Then where is that proud title of thy name, 
 Written in ice of melting vanity ? 
 Where is thine heir left to possess the fame ? 15 
 
 Perhaps not so well as in beggary. 
 Something may rise, to be beyond the shame 
 Of vile and unregarded poverty. 
 
 Which I must confess ; although I often strive 
 To clothe in the best habit of my skill, 20 
 
 In all the fairest colors I can give. 
 Yet for all that methinks she looks but ill ; 
 I cannot brook that face, which (dead alive) 
 Shows a quick body, but a buried will. 
 
 Yet oft we see the bars of this restraint 25 
 
 Holds goodness in, which loose wealth would let fly ; 
 And fruitless riches, barren er than want, 
 Brings forth small worth from idle liberty : 
 Which when disorders shall again make scant, 
 It must refetch her state from poverty. 30 
 
 But yet in all this interchange of all, 
 Virtue, we see, with her fair grace stands fast : 
 For what high races hath there come to fall 
 With low disgrace, quite vanished and past, 
 Since Chaucer liv'd ; who yet lives, and yet shall, 35 
 Though (which I grieve to say) but in his last. 
 
 Yet what a time hath he wrested from time, 
 
SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 27 
 
 And won upon the mighty waste of days, 
 
 Unto th' immortal honor of our clime, 
 
 That by his means came first adorned with bays ? 
 
 Unto the sacred relics of whose time, 
 
 We yet are bound in zeal to offer praise. 5 
 
 And could our lines, begotten in this age, 
 Obtain but such a blessed hand of years, 
 And 'scape the fury of that threatening rage, 
 Which in confused clouds ghastly appears ; 
 Who would not strain his travails to engage, 10 
 
 When such true glory should succeed his cares ? 
 
 But whereas he came planted in the spring, 
 And had the sum before him of respect ; 
 We, set in th' autumn, in the withering 
 And sullen season of a cold defect, 15 
 
 Must taste those four distastes the times do bring 
 Upon the fullness of a cloy'd neglect. 
 
 Although the stronger constitutions shall 
 Wear out th' infection of distemper'd days, 
 And come with glory to outlive this fall, 20 
 
 Eecov'ring of another springing of praise ; 
 Cleared from th' oppressing humors wherewithal 
 The idle multitude surcharge their lays. 
 When as (perhaps) the words thou scornest now 
 May live, the speaking picture of the mind ; 25 
 
 The extract of the soul, that labor'd how 
 To leave the image of herself behind ; 
 Wherein posterity, that love to know,' 
 The just proportion of our spir'ts may find. 
 
 For these lines are the veins, the arteries, 30 
 
 And undecaying life-strings of those hearts, 
 That still shall pant, and still shall exercise 
 The motion, spir't and nature both imparts, 
 And shall with those alive so sympathize, 
 As nourish'd with their pow'rs, enjoy their parts. 35 
 
 blessed letters ! that combine in one 
 All ages past, and make one live with all. 
 
28 SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 
 
 By you we do confer with who are gone, 
 And the dead-living unto council call : 
 By you th' unborn shall have communion 
 Of what we feel, and what doth us befall. 
 
 Soul of the world, knowledge, without thee, 5 
 
 What hath the earth that truly glorious is ? 
 Why should our pride make such a stir to be, 
 To be forgot ? What good is like to this, 
 To do worthy the writing, and to write 
 Worthy the reading, and the world's delight ? 10 
 
 And let th' unnatural and wayward race, 
 Born of one womb with us, but to our shame ; 
 (That never read t' observe, but to disgrace) 
 Kaise all the tempest of their pow'r, to blame ; 
 That puff of folly never can deface 15 
 
 The work a happy genius took to frame. 
 
 Yet why should civil learning seek to wound, 
 And mangle her own members with despite ? 
 Prodigious wits ! that study to confound 
 The life of wit, to seem to know aright ; 20 
 
 As if themselves had fortunately found 
 Some stand from off the earth beyond our sight ; 
 Whence overlooking all as from above, 
 Their grace is not to work, but to reprove : 
 
 But how came they plac'd in so high degree, 25 
 
 Above the reach and compass of the rest ? 
 Who hath admitted them only to be 
 Free denizens of skill, to judge the best ? 
 From whom the world as yet could never see 
 The warrant of their wit soundly express'd. 30 
 
 T' acquaint our times with that perfection 
 Of high conceit, which only they possess ; 
 That we might have things exquisitely done, 
 Measur'd with all their strict observances 
 Such would (I know) scorn a translation 35 
 
 Or bring but others' labors to the press ; 
 Yet oft these monster-breeding mountains will 
 
SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 29 
 
 Bring forth small mice of great expected skill. 
 
 Presumption, ever fullest of defects, 
 
 Fails in the doing to perform her part ; 
 
 And I have known proud works, and poor effects, 
 
 Of such indeed as do condemn this art : 5 
 
 But let them rest ; it ever hath been known, 
 
 They others' virtues scorn that doubt their own. 
 
 And for the divers disagreeing chords 
 Of inter-jangling ignorance, that fill 
 The dainty ears, and leave no room for words, 10 
 
 The worthier minds neglect, or pardon will, 
 Knowing the best he hath, he frankly 'fords, 
 And scorns to be a niggard of his skill. 
 
 And that the rather since this short-lived race 
 Being fatally the sons but of one day, 15 
 
 That now with all their power ply 't apace 
 To hold out with the greatest might they may, 
 Against confusion that hath all in chase, 
 To make of all an universal prey. 
 
 For now great nature hath laid down at last 20 
 
 That mighty birth wherewith so long she went, 
 And over- went the times of ages past, 
 Here to lie in upon our soft content ; 
 "Where fruitful she hath multiplied so fast, 
 That all she hath on these times seem'd t' have spent. 25 
 All that which might have many ages grac'd, 
 Is born in one, to make one cloy'd with all ; 
 Where plenty hath impress'd a deep distaste 
 Of best and worst, and all in general ; 
 That goodness seems goodness to have defac'd, 30 
 
 And virtue hath to virtue giv'n the fall. 
 
 For emulation, that proud curse of wit, 
 Scorning to stay below, or come behind, 
 Labors upon that narrow top to sit 
 Of sole perfection in the highest kind. 35 
 
 Envy and wonder looking after it, 
 Thrust likewise on the self -same bliss to find : 
 
30 SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 
 
 And so long striving till they can no more, 
 Do stuff the place, or others 1 hopes shut out; 
 Who doubting to o'ertake those gone before, 
 Give up their care, and cast no more about ; 
 And so in scorn leave all as sore-possess'd, 5 
 
 And will be none, where they may not be best. 
 
 Ev'n like some empty creek, that long hath lain 
 Left or neglected of the river by, 
 Whose searching sides pleas'd with a wand'ring vein, 
 Finding some little way that close did lie, 10 
 
 Steal in at first ; then other streams again 
 Second the first, then more than all supply ; 
 Till all the mighty main hath born at last 
 The glory of his chief est pow'r that way, 
 Plying this new-found pleasant room so fast, 15 
 
 Till all be full, and all be at a stay ; 
 And then about, and back again doth cast, 
 Leaving that full to fall another way : 
 
 So fares this hum'rous world that evermore 
 Wrapp'd with the current of a present course, 20 
 
 Runs into that which lay contemned before ; 
 Then, glutted, leaves the same, and falls t' a worse. 
 Now zeal holds all, no life but to adore ; 
 Then cold in spir't, and faith is of no force. 
 Strait all that holy was unhallow'd lies, 25 
 
 The scatter'd carcasses of ruin'd vows ; 
 Then truth is false, and now hath blindness eyes ; 
 Then zeal trusts all, now scarcely what it knows : 
 That evermore to foolish or to wise, 
 It fatal is to be seduc'd with shows, 30 
 
 Sacred religion ! mother of form and fear ! 
 How gorgeously sometimes dost thou sit deck'd ? 
 What pompous vestures do we make thee wear, 
 What stately piles we prodigal erect ? 
 How sweet perfum'd thou art ; how shining clear ? 35 
 How solemnly observed; with what respect ? 
 Another time all plain, all quite threadbare ; 
 
SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 31 
 
 Thou must have all within, and nought without ; 
 
 Sit poorly without light, disrob'd : no care 
 
 Of outward grace, t' amuse the poor devout ; 
 
 Pow'rless, unfollow'd : scarcely men can spare 
 
 The necessary rites to set thee out. 5 
 
 Either truth, goodness, virtue are not still 
 
 The self-same which they are, and always one, 
 
 But alter to the project of our will ; 
 
 Or we our actions make them wait upon, 
 
 Putting them in the liv'ry of our skill, 10 
 
 And cast them off again when we have done. 
 
 You, mighty lords that with respected grace 
 Do at the stern of fair example stand, 
 And all the body of this populace 
 Guide with the turning of your hand ; 15 
 
 Keep a right course ; bear up from all disgrace; 
 Observe the point of glory to our land : 
 
 Hold up disgraced knowledge from the ground ; 
 Keep virtue in request ; give worth her due : 
 Let not neglect with barb'rous means confound 20 
 
 So fair a good, to bring in night anew : 
 Be not, O be not accessary found 
 Unto her death, that must give life to you. 
 
 Where will you have your virtuous name safe laid, 
 In gorgeous tombs, in sacred cells secure ? 25 
 
 Do you not see those prostrate heaps betray'd 
 Your father's bones, and could not keep them sure ? 
 And will you trust deceitful stones fair laid 
 And think they will be to your honor truer ? 
 
 No, no ; unsparing time will proudly send 30 
 
 A warrant unto wrath, that with one frown 
 Will all these mock'ries of vain glory rend, 
 And make them (as before) ungrac'd, unknown ; 
 Poor idle honors, that can ill defend 
 Your memories, that cannot keep their own. 35 
 
 And whereto serve that wondrous trophy now 
 That on the goodly plain near Walton stands ? 
 
32 SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 
 
 That huge dumb heap, that cannot tell us how, 
 Nor what, nor whence it is ; nor with whose hands, 
 Nor for whose glory — it was set to show, 
 How much our pride mocks that of other lands. 
 
 Whereon, when as the gazing passenger 5 
 
 Had greedy look'd with admiration ; 
 And fain would know his birth, and what he were : 
 How there erected ; and how long agone : 
 Inquires and asks his fellow-traveler 
 What he had heard, and his opinion : 10 
 
 And he knows nothing. Then he turns again, 
 And looks and sighs ; and then admires afresh, 
 And in himself with sorrow doth complain 
 The misery of dark forgetfulness ; 
 Angry with time that nothing should remain, 15 
 
 Our greatest wonders wonder to express. 
 Then ignorance, with fabulous discourse, 
 Bobbing fair art and cunning of their right, 
 Tells how those stones were by the devil's force 
 From Afric brought to Ireland in a night ; 20 
 
 And thence to Britanny, by magic course, 
 From giant's hands redeem'd by Merlin's flight. 
 And then near Ambri placed, in memory 
 Of all those noble Britons murdered there, 
 By Hengist and his Saxon treachery, 25 
 
 Coming to parley in peace at unaware. 
 With this old legend then credulity 
 Holds her content, and closes up her care. 
 
 But is antiquity so great a liar ? 
 Or do her younger sons her age abuse ; 30 
 
 See'ng after-comers still so apt t' admire 
 The grave authority that she doth use 
 That rev'rence and respect dare not require 
 Proof of her deeds, or once her words refuse ? 
 
 Yet wrong they did us, to presume so far 35 
 
 Upon our easy credit and delight ; 
 For once found false, they straight became to mar 
 
SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 33 
 
 Our faith, and their own reputation quite ; 
 
 That now her truths hardly believed are ; 
 
 And though she avouch the right, she scarce hath right. 
 
 And as for thee, thou huge and mighty frame 
 
 That stands corrupted so with time's despite, 5 
 
 And giv'st false evidence against their fame 
 
 That set thee there to testify their right ; 
 
 And art become a traitor to their name, 
 
 That trusted thee with all the best they might ; 
 
 Thou shalt stand still belied and slandered, 10 
 
 The only gazing stock of ignorance, 
 
 And by thy guile the wise admonished, 
 
 Shall never more desire such hopes t' advance, 
 
 Nor trust their living glory with the dead 
 
 That cannot speak, but leave their fame to chance. 15 
 
 ConsidTing in how small a room do lie, 
 
 And yet lie safe (as fresh as if alive) 
 
 All those great worthies of antiquity, 
 
 "Which long fore-hVd thee, and shall long survive ; 
 
 Who stronger tombs found for eternity, 20 
 
 Than could the powers of all the earth contrive. 
 
 Where they remain these trifles to upbraid, 
 Out of the reach of spoil, and way of rage ; 
 Though time with all his pow'r of years hath laid 
 Long batt'ry, back'd with undermining age ; 25 
 
 Yet they make head only with their own aid, 
 And war with his all-conqu'ring forces wage ; 
 Pleading the heav'n's prescription to be free, 
 And t' have a grant t' endure as long as he. 
 
 PMlocosmus. Behold how ev'ry man, drawn with de- 
 light 30 
 Of what he does, flatters him in his way ; 
 Striving to make his course seem only right, 
 Doth his own rest, and his own thoughts betray : 
 Imagination bringing bravely dight 
 Her pleasing images in best array, 35 
 
 With flatt'ring glasses that must show him fair, 
 
34 SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 
 
 And others foul ; his skill and wit the best, 
 
 Others seduc'd, deceiv'd and wrong in their ; 
 
 His knowledge right, all ignorance the rest ; 
 
 Not seeing how these minions in the air 
 
 Present a face of things falsely express'd, 5 
 
 And that the glimnTring of these errors shown, 
 
 Are bnt a light to let him see his own. 
 
 Alas, poor fame ! in what a narrow room, 
 As an incaged parrot, art thou pent 
 Here amongst us ; where ev'n as good be dumb 10 
 
 As speak, and to be heard with no attent ? 
 How can you promise of the time to come, 
 "When as the present are so negligent ? 
 
 Is this the walk of all your wide renown ! 
 This little point, this scarce discerned isle ! 15 
 
 Thrust from the world, with whom our speech, unknown, 
 Made never any traffic of our style. 
 And in this all, where all this care is shown 
 T' enchant your fame to last so long a while. 
 And for that happier tongues have won so much, 20 
 Think you to make your barb'rous language such ? 
 
 Poor narrow limits for so mighty pains, 
 That cannot promise any foreign vent ! 
 And yet if here, too, all your wondrous veins 
 Were generally known, it might content. 25 
 
 But lo ! how many reads not, or disdains 
 The labor of the chief and excellent ? 
 How many thousands never heard the name 
 Of Sidney, or of Spencer, or their books ? 
 And yet brave fellows, and presume of fame ; 30 
 
 And seem to bear down all the world with looks : 
 What then shall they expect of meaner frame, 
 On whose endeavors few or none scarce looks ? 
 
 Do you not see these pamphlets, libels, rhymes, 
 These strange confused tumults of the mind, 35 
 
 30. Presume, confident. 34. Libels, little books. 
 
SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 35 
 
 Are grown to be the sickness of these times, 
 
 The great disease inflicted on mankind ? 
 
 Your virtues, by your follies made your crimes, 
 
 Have issue with your indiscretion join'd. 
 
 Schools, arts, professions, all in so great store, 5 
 
 Pass the proportion of the present state ; 
 
 Where being as great a number as before, 
 
 And fewer rooms them to accommodate ; 
 
 It cannot be, but they must throng the more, 
 
 And kick and thrust, and shoulder with debate. 10 
 
 For when the greater wits cannot attain 
 Th 1 expected good which they account their right, 
 And yet perceive others to reap that gain 
 Of far inferior virtues in their fight ; 
 They present, with the sharp of envy, strain 15 
 
 To wound them with reproaches and despite ; 
 And for these cannot have as well as they, 
 They scorn their faith should deign to look that way. 
 Hence discontented sects and schisms arise ; 
 Hence inter wounding controversies spring, 20 
 
 That feed the simple, and offend the wise, 
 Who know the consequence of caviling 
 Disgrace, that these to others do devise : 
 Contempt and scorn on all in th 1 end doth bring, 
 Like scolding wives, reck'ning each other's fault, 25 
 Make standers-by imagine both are naught. 
 
 For when to these rare dainties time admits 
 All comers, all complexions, all that will ; 
 Where none should be let in but choicest wits, 
 Whose mild discretion could comport with skill : 30 
 For when the place their humor neither fits, 
 Nor they the place ; who can expect but ill ? 
 For being unapt for what they took in hand, 
 And for aught else whereto they shall b' address'd, 
 They ev'n become th' incumbrance of the land, 35 
 
 15. Present, at once. 
 
36 SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 
 
 As out of rank, disord'ring all the rest : 
 This grace Of theirs to seem to understand, 
 Mars all their grace, to do without their rest. 
 
 Men find that action is another thing, 
 Than what they in discoursing papers read : f> 
 
 The world's affairs require in managing 
 More arts than those wherein you clerks proceed ; 
 Whilst tim'rous knowledge stands considering, 
 Audacious ignorance hath done the deed. 
 For who knows most, the more he knows to doubt ; 10 
 The least discourse is commonly most stout. 
 This sweet-enchanting knowledge turns you clean 
 Out from the fields of natural delight, 
 And makes you hide, unwilling to be seen 
 In th' open concourse of a public sight : 15 
 
 This skill wherewith you have so cunning been, 
 Unsinews all your pow'rs, unmans you quite. 
 
 Public soci'ty, and commerce of men, 
 Kequire another grace, another port : 
 This eloquence, these rhymes, these phrases then 20 
 Begot in shades, do serve us in no sort ; 
 The immaterial swelling of your pen, 
 Touch not the spir't that action doth import. 
 
 A manly style fitted to manly ears, 
 Best 'grees with wit ; not that which goes so gay, 25 
 And commonly the gaudy liv'ry wears 
 Of nice corruptions, which the times do sway ; 
 And waits on th' humor of his pulse, that bears 
 His passions set to such a pleasing key. 
 Such dainties serve only for stomachs weak ; 30 
 
 For men do foulest, when they finest speak. 
 Yet do I not dislike, that in some wise 
 Be sung the great heroical deserts 
 Of brave renowned spir'ts ; whose exercise 
 Of worthy deeds may call up others' hearts, 35 
 
 And serve a model for posterities, 
 To fashion them fit for like glorious parts ; 
 
SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 
 
 37 
 
 But so that all our spir'ts may tend hereto, 
 To make it not our grace to say, but do. 
 
 Musophilus. Much thou hast said, and willingly I hear, 
 As one that am not so possessed with love 
 Of what I do ; but that I rather bear 5 
 
 An ear to learn, than a tongue to disprove : 
 I know men must, as carried in their sphere, 
 According to their proper motions move. 
 And that course likes them best, which they are on ; 
 Yet truth hath certain bounds, but falsehood none. 10 
 
 I do confess our limits are but small, 
 Compar'd with all the whole vast earth beside ; 
 All which again rated to that Great All, 
 Is likewise as a point, scarcely descried : 
 So that in these respects we may this call 15 
 
 A point but of a point, where we abide. 
 
 But if we shall descend from that high stand 
 Of overlooking contemplation, 
 And cast our thoughts but to, and not beyond 
 This spacious circuit which we tread upon ; 20 
 
 We then may estimate our mighty land 
 A wwld within a world, standing alone. 
 
 Where, if our fame confin'd cannot get out, 
 What shall we imagine it is pen'd, 
 That hath so great a world to walk about ; . 25 
 
 Whose bounds with her reports have both one end ? 
 Why shall we not rather esteem her stout, 
 That farther than her own scorn to extend ? 
 
 Where being so large a room both to do well, 
 And eke to hear th' applause of things well done, 30 
 That farther if men shall our virtues tell, 
 We have more mouths, but not more merit won ; 
 It doth not greater make that which is laud'ble, 
 The flame is bigger blown, the fire all one. 
 
 And for the few T that only lend their ear, 35 
 
 24. What, why. 
 
38 SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 
 
 That few is all the world ; which with a few 
 
 Do ever live and move, and work, and stir. 
 
 This is the heart doth feel, and only know 
 
 The rest of all that only bodies bear, 
 
 Roll up and down, and fill but up the row. 5 
 
 And serves as others' members, not their own, 
 The instruments of those that do direct. 
 Then what disgrace is this, not to be known 
 To those know not to give themselves respect ? 
 And though they swell with pomp of folly blown, 10 
 They live ungrac'd, and die but in neglect. 
 
 And for my part, if only one allow 
 The care my lab'ring spirits take in this ; 
 He is to me a the'tre large enow, 
 
 And his applause only sufficient is : 15 
 
 All my respect is bent but to his brow ; 
 That is my All, and all I am is his. 
 
 And if some worthy spir'ts be pleased too, 
 It shall more comfort breed, but not more will. 
 But what if none ? it cannot yet undo 20 
 
 The love I bear into this holy skill. 
 This is the thing that I was born to do : 
 This is my scene ; this part must I fulfill. 
 
 Let those that know not breath esteem of wind, 
 And set t' a vulgar air their servile song ; 25 
 
 Rating their goodness by the praise they find, 
 Making their worth on others' fits belong ; 
 As virtue were the hireling of the mind, 
 And could not live if fame had ne'er a tongue : 
 
 Hath that all-knowing pow'r, that holds within 30 
 The goodly prospective of all this frame, 
 (Where whatsoever is, or what hath been, 
 Reflects a certain image of the same) 
 No inward pleasures to delight her in, 
 But she must gad to seek an alms of fame ? 35 
 
 31. Prospective, view. 
 
SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 39 
 
 Must she, like to a wanton courtesan, 
 Open her breasts for show, to win her praise ; 
 And blaze her fair bright beauty unto man, 
 As if she were enamor'd of his ways ; 
 And knew not weakness, nor could rightly scan 5 
 
 To what defects his hum'rons breath obeys ? 
 
 She that can tell how proud ambition 
 Is but a beggar, and hath nought at all, 
 But what is giv'n of mere devotion : 
 For which, how much it sweats ! How much its thrall ! 
 What toil it takes ! And yet when all is done, 11 
 
 The ends in expectation never fall. 
 
 Shall she join hands with such a servile mate, 
 And prostrate her fair body, to commit 
 Folly with earth ; and to defile that state 15 
 
 Of clearness, for so gross a benefit ? 
 Having reward dwelling within her gate, 
 And glory of her own to furnish it. 
 Herself a recompense sufficient- 
 
 Unto herself, to give her own content. 20 
 
 Is't not enough that she hath rais'd so high 
 Those that be hers ; that they may sit and see 
 The earth below them, and this All to lie 
 Under their view ? taking the true degree 
 Of the just height of swol'n mortality 25 
 
 Right as it is, not as it seems to be. 
 
 And undeceived with the parallax 
 Of a mistaking eye of passion, know 
 By these mask'd outsides what the inward lacks ; 
 Meas'ring man by himself, not by his show : 30 
 
 Wond'ring not at their rich and golden backs, 
 That have poor minds, and little else to show. 
 Nor taking that for them, which well they see 
 Is not of them but rather is their load : 
 The lies of fortune, wherewithal men be 35 
 
 Deemed within, when they be all abroad ; 
 
 36. Deemed, judged. 
 
40 SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 
 
 Whose ground, whose grass, whose earth have cap and 
 
 knee, 
 Which they suppose is on themselves bestow'd ; 
 
 And think (like Lsis 1 ass) all honors are 
 Giv'n unto them alone ; the which are done 
 Unto the painted idol which they bear, 5 
 
 That only makes them to be gazed on. 
 For take away their pack, and show them bare, 
 And see what beast this honor rides upon. 
 Hath knowledge lent to hers the privy key, 
 To let them in unto the highest stage 10 
 
 Of causes, secrets, counsels ; to survey 
 The wits of men, their heats, their colds, their rage ; 
 That build, destroy, praise, hate, say, and gainsay, 
 Believe and unbelieve, all in one age ? 
 
 And shall we trust goodness, as it proceeds 15 
 
 From that unconstant mouth ; which with one breath 
 "Will make it bad again, unless it feeds 
 The present humor that it favoreth ? 
 Shall we esteem, and reckon how it heeds 
 Our works, that his own vows unhalloweth ? 20 
 
 Then whereto serves it to have been enlarged 
 With this free manumission of the mind, 
 If for all that we still continue charg'd 
 With those discover'd errors which we find ? 
 As if our knowledge only were discharg'd, 25 
 
 Yet we ourselves staid in a servile kind, 
 That virtue must be out of countenance, 
 If this gross spir't, or that weak shallow brain, 
 Or this nice wit, or that distemperance, 
 Neglect, distaste, uncomprehend, disdain : 30 
 
 When such sick eyes can never cast a glance, 
 But through the colors of their proper stain. 
 
 Though I must needs confess, the small respect 
 That these great_s££ming-best of men do give 
 (Whose brow begets th 1 inferior sort's neglect) 35 
 
 Might move the weak irresolute to grieve ; 
 
SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 41 
 
 » 
 
 But stronger see how justly this defect 
 Hath overtook the times wherein we live. 
 
 That learning needs must run the common fate 
 Of all things else, thrust on by her own weight, 
 Comporting not herself in her estate, 5 
 
 Under this burden of a self-conceit : 
 Our own dissentious hands op'ning the gate 
 Unto contempt, that on our quarrels wait, 
 Discover'd have our inward government ; 
 And led in hard opinion to disgrace 10 
 
 The general, for some weak impotent, 
 That bear out their disease with a stol'n face ; 
 Who (silly fools !) the more wit they have spent, 
 The less they show'd, not bett'ring their bad case. 
 
 And see how soon this rolling world can take 15 
 
 Advantage for her dissolution ! 
 Fain to get loose from this withholding stake 
 Of civil science and discretion ; 
 How glad it would run wild, that it might make 
 One formless form of one confusion ! 20 
 
 Like tyrant Ottoman's blindfolded state, 
 "Which must know nothing more, but to obey : 
 For this seeks greedy ignorance t' abate 
 Our number, order, living, form, and sway ; 
 For this it practices to dissipate 25 
 
 Th 1 unshelter'd troops, till all be made away. 
 
 For since our father's sins pull'd first to ground 
 The pale of this dissevered dignity, 
 And overthrew that holy rev'rend bound, 
 That parted learning and the laity, 30 
 
 And laid all flat in common ; to confound 
 The honor and respect of piety : 
 
 It did so much en vile the estimate 
 Of th' open'd and invulgard mysteries, 
 Which now reduc'd unto the basest rate, 35 
 
 Must wait upon the Norman subtleties ; 
 Who being mounted up into their state, 
 
42 SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 
 
 Do best with wrangling rudeness sympathize. 
 
 And yet, though now set quite behind the train 
 Of vulgar sway (and light of pow'r weigh'd light), 
 Yet would this giddy innovation fain 
 Down with it lower, to abase it quite : 5 
 
 And those poor remnants that do yet remain 
 The spoiled marks of their divided right, 
 
 They wholly would deface, to leave no face 
 Of reverend distinction and degree ; 
 As if they weigh'd no difference in this case, 10 
 
 Betwixt religion's age and infancy : 
 Where th' one must creep, the other stand with grace, 
 Lest turn'd t' a child, it overturned be. 
 Though to pull back th' onrunning state of things, 
 (Gath'ring corruption, as it gathers days) 15 
 
 Unto the form of their first orderings, 
 Is the best means that dissolution stays ; 
 And to go forward, backward right men brings, 
 T' observe the line from whence they took their ways. 
 Yet being once gone wide, and the right way 20 
 
 Not level to the times' condition ; 
 To alter course may bring men more astray ; 
 And leaving what was known, to light on none: 
 Since ev'ry change, the rev'rence doth decay, 
 Of that which alway should continue one. 25 
 
 For this is that close kept palladium, 
 Which once remov'd brings ruin evermore ; 
 This stirr'd, makes men fore-settled, to become 
 Curious to know what was believed before : 
 Whilst faith disputes, that used to be dumb ; 30 
 
 And more men strive to talk, than to adore. 
 
 For never headstrong reformation will 
 Kest, till to th' extreme opposite it run, 
 And overrun the mean distrusted still ; 
 As being too near of kin to that men shun ; 35 
 
 For good and bad, and all must be one ill, 
 When once there is another truth begun. 
 
 I 
 
SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 43 
 
 So hard it is an even hand to bear, 
 In tempering with such maladies as these ; 
 Lest that our forward passions launch too near, 
 And make the cure prove worse than the disease ; 
 For with the worst we will not spare the best, 5 
 
 Because it grows with that which doth displease. 
 And faults are easier look'd in, than redress'd : 
 Men running with such eager violence, 
 At the first view of errors fresh in quest ; 
 As they, to rid an inconvenience, 19 
 
 Stick not to raise a mischief in the stead, 
 Which after mocks their weak improvidence; 
 
 And therefore do not make your own sides bleed, 
 To prick at others : you that would amend 
 By pulling down, and think you can proceed, 15 
 
 By going back unto the farther end : 
 Let stand that little covert left behind, 
 Whereon your succors and respects depend ; 
 
 And bring not down the prizes of the mind, 
 With under-rating of yourselves so base : 20 
 
 You that the mighties 1 doors do crouching find, 
 To sell yourselves to buy a little grace ; 
 Or wait whole months to outbid Simony, 
 For that which being got, is not your place. 
 
 For if it were, what needed you to buy, 25 
 
 What was your due ? your thirsting shows your shift, 
 And little worth, that seeks injuriously 
 A worthier from his lawful room to lift. 
 We cannot say, that you were then preferr'd ; 
 But that your money was, or some worse gift. 30 
 
 O scatt'ring gath'rers ! that without regard 
 Of times.to come, will (to be made) undo ; 
 As if you were the last of men, prepaid 
 To bury in your graves all other too. 
 Dare you profane that holy portion, 35 
 
 Which never sacrilegious hand durst do ? 
 
 Did form-establishing devotion, 
 
44 SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 
 
 To maintain a respective reverence, 
 
 Extend her bountiful provision 
 
 With such a charitable providence, 
 
 For your deforming hands to dissipate, 
 
 And make God's due your impious expense ? 5 
 
 No marvel then, though th' over-pester'd state 
 
 Want room for goodness ; if our little hold 
 
 Be lessen'd unto such a narrow rate, 
 
 That rev'rence cannot fit ; fit as it should. 
 
 And yet what need we thus for rooms complain ? 10 
 
 That shall not want void rooms, if this course hold ; 
 
 And more than will be fill'd — for who will strain 
 
 To get an empty title, to betray 
 
 Eis hopes ; and travel for an honor vain, 
 
 And gain a port, without support or stay ? 15 
 
 What need hath envy to malign their state, 
 
 That will themselves (so kind !) give it away ? 
 
 This makes indeed our number pass the rate 
 
 Of our provisions ; which, if dealt aright, 
 
 Would yield sufficient room t' accommodate, 20 
 
 More than we have in places requisite. 
 
 The ill-disposing only doth us set 
 
 In disarray, and out of order quite. 
 
 Whilst others gifts then of the mind shall get, 
 
 Under our colors, that which is our dues. 25 
 
 And to our travels, art neither benefit, 
 
 Nor grace, nor honor, nor respect accrues : 
 
 The sickness of the state's soul (learning) then 
 
 The body's great distemp'rature ensues. 
 
 For if that learning's rooms to learned men 30 
 
 Were as their heritage distributed, 
 All this disorder'd thrust would cease. For when 
 The fit were called ; th' unworthy frustrated : 
 These would be 'shamed to seek ; those to b' unsought ; 
 And stay'ng their turn, were sure they should be sped. 
 
 Then would our drooping academies, brought 36 
 
 Again in heart, regain that rev'rend hand 
 
SELECTIONS EROM DANIEL. 45 
 
 Of lost opinion ; and no more be thought 
 
 Th' unnecessary furnish of the land, 
 
 Nor (discouraged with their small esteem) 
 
 Confus'd, irresolute and wav'ring stand : 
 
 Caring not to become profound ; but seem 5 
 
 Contented with a superficial skill, 
 
 Which for a slight reward enough they deem 
 
 When th' one succeeds as well as th' other will : 
 
 See'ng shorter ways lead sooner to their end, 
 
 And others 1 longer travels thrive so ill. 10 
 
 Then would they only labor to extend 
 Their now unsearching spir't beyond these bounds 
 Of others' pow'rs, wherein they must be penned ; 
 As if there were besides no other grounds : 
 And set their bold plus ultra far without 15 
 
 The pillars of those axioms age propounds. 
 Discov'ring daily more and more about, 
 In that immense and boundless ocean 
 Of nature's riches, never yet found out, 
 Nor fore-clos'd with the wit of any man. 20 
 
 So far beyond the ordinary course,' 
 That other nnindustrious ages ran ; 
 That these more curious times they might divorce 
 From the opinion they are link'd unto, 
 Of our disable and unactive force ; 25 
 
 To show true knowledge can both speak and do : 
 Arm'd for the sharp which in these days they find, 
 With all provisions that belong thereto : 
 
 That their experience may not come behind 
 The times' conceit ; but leading in their place, 30 
 
 May make men see the weapons of the mind 
 Are states' best strengths, and kingdoms' chiefest grace; 
 And rooms of charge, charg'd full with worth and 
 
 praise, 
 Makes majesty appear with her full face ; 
 Shining with all her beams, with all her rays ; 85 
 
 Unscanted of her parts, unshadowed 
 
46 SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 
 
 In any darken'd point : which still bewrays 
 
 The weap'n of pow'r, when powYs unfurnished, 
 
 And hath not all those entire compliments, 
 
 Wherewith the state should for her state be sped. 
 
 And though the fortune of some age consents 5 
 
 Unto a thousand errors grossly wrought, 
 
 Which, flourish'd over with their fair events, 
 
 Have pass'd for current, and good courses thought ; 
 
 The least whereof, in other times, again 
 
 Most dang'rous inconveniences have brought ; 10 
 
 Whilst to the times, not to men's wits, pertain 
 
 The good successes of ill-manag'd deeds ; 
 
 Though th 1 ignorant deceiv'd of colors vain, 
 
 Miss of the causes whence this luck proceeds. 
 
 Foreign defects giving home-faults the way, 15 
 
 Make ev'n that weakness sometimes well succeeds. 
 
 I grant, that some unletter'd practic may 
 
 (Leaving beyond the Alps, faith and respect 
 
 To God and man) with impious cunning sway 
 
 The courses fore-begun with like effect, 20 
 
 And without stop maintain the turning-on, 
 
 And have his errors deemed without defect. 
 
 But when some pow'rful opposition 
 
 Shall, with a sound encount'ring shock, disjoint 
 
 The sore-contrived frame ; and thereupon 25 
 
 Th 1 experience of the present disappoint ; 
 
 And other stirring spir'ts, and other hearts 
 
 Built huge for action, meeting in a point ; 
 
 Shall drive the world to summon all their arts, 
 
 And all too little for so real might, 30 
 
 When no advantages of weaker parts 
 
 Shall bear out shallow counsels from the light ; 
 
 And this sense-op'ning action (which doth hate 
 
 Unmanly craft) shall look to have her right. 
 
 Who then holds up the glory of the state ; 35 
 
 17. Practic, man of affairs. 
 
 
SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 47 
 
 (Which letter'd arms, and armed letters won) 
 
 Who shall be fittest to negotiate, 
 
 Contemn'd Justinian, or else Littleton ? 
 
 When it shall not he held wisdom to be 
 
 Privately made, and publicly undone : 5 
 
 But sound designs, that judgment shall decree 
 
 Out -of a true discern of the clear ways 
 
 That lie direct, with safe-going equity ; 
 
 Embroiling not their own, and others' days. 
 
 Extending forth their providence beyond 10 
 
 The circuit of their own particular ; 
 
 That ev'n th' ignorant may understand, 
 
 How that deceit is but a caviller, 
 
 And true unto itself can never stand, 
 
 But still must with her own conclusions war. 15 
 
 ******* 
 
 Pow'r above pow'rs ! O heav'nly eloquence ! 
 That with the strong rein of commanding words, 
 Dost manage, guide, and master th' eminence 
 Of men's affections, more than all their swords ! 
 Shall we not offer to thy excellence, 20 
 
 The richest treasure that our wit affords ? 
 Thou that canst do much more with one poor pen, 
 Than all the pow'rs of princes can effect; 
 And draw, divert, dispose, and fashion men, 
 Better than force or rigor can direct ! 15 
 
 Should we this ornament of glory then, 
 As th' immaterial fruits of shades neglect ? 
 Or should we careless come behind the rest 
 In pow'r of words, that go before in worth ; 
 When as our accent's equal to the best, 30 
 
 Is able greater wonders to bring forth ? 
 When all that ever hotter spir'ts express'd, 
 Comes better'd by the patience of the north. 
 And who (in time) knows whither w 7 e may vent 
 
 3. Littleton, a contemporary jurist. 
 
48 SELECTIONS FROM DANIEL. 
 
 The treasure of our tongue ? To what strange shores, 
 
 This gain of our best glory shall be sent, 
 
 T' enrich unknowing nations with our stores ? 
 
 What worlds in th' yet unformed Occident, 
 
 May come refin'd with th' accents that are ours ? 5 
 
 Or who can tell for what great work in hand 
 
 The greatness of our style is now ordain'd ? 
 
 What pow'rs it shall bring in, what spirts command ? 
 
 What thoughts let out ; what humors keep restraint ? 
 
 What mischief it may pow'rfully withstand ; 10 
 
 And what fair ends may thereby be attain'd ? 
 
 And as for po'sy (mother of this force !) 
 
 That breeds, brings forth, and nourishes this might ; 
 
 Teaching it in a loose, yet mcasur'd course, 
 
 With comely notions how to go upright ; • 15 
 
 And fost'ring it with bountiful discourse, 
 
 Adorns it thus in fashions of delight. 
 
 What should I say ? — Since it is well approv'd 
 
 The speech of heav'n, with whom they have commerce ; 
 
 That only seem out of themselves remov'd, 20 
 
 And do with more than human skills converse : 
 
 Those numbers wherewith heav'n and earth are mov'd, 
 
 Show weakness speaks in prose, but pow'r in verse. 
 
 Wherein thou likewise seemest to allow, 
 
 That th' acts of worthy men should be preserv'd, 25 
 
 As in the holiest tombs we can bestow 
 
 Upon their glory that have well deserv'd ; 
 
 Wherein thou dost no other virtue show, 
 
 Than what most barb'rous countries have observed : 
 
 When all the happiest nations hitherto, 30 
 
 Did with no lesser glory speak, than do. 
 
 Now to what else thy malice shall object, 
 
 For schools, and arts, and their necessity ; 
 
 When from my lord, whose judgment must direct, 
 
 And form and fashion my ability, 35 
 
 I shall have got more strength ; thou shalt expect, 
 
 Out of my better leisure, my reply. 
 
English Classic Series, 
 
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 Classes in English Literature, Reading, Grammar, etc. 
 
 EDITED BY EMINENT ENGLISH AND AMERICAN SCHOLARS, 
 
 Each Volume contains a Sketcfi of the Author's Life, Prefatory and 
 Explanatory Notes, etc., etc. 
 
 Byron's Prophecy of Dante. 
 
 (Cantos I. and II.) 
 Milton's L' Allegro, and II Pen- 
 
 seroso. 
 Lord Bacon's Essays, Civil and 
 
 Moral. (Selected.) 
 Byron's Prisoner of Chillon. 
 Moore's Fire Worshippers. 
 
 (Lalla Rookh. Selected. ) 
 Goldsmith's Deserted Village. 
 Scott's Marin ion. (Selections 
 
 from Canto VI.) 
 Scott's Lay of the Last Minstrel. 
 
 (Introduction and Canto I.) 
 Burns'sCotter'sSaturdayNight, 
 
 and other Poems. 
 Crabbe's The Village. 
 Campbell's Pleasures of Hope. 
 
 (Abridgment of Part I.) 
 Macaulay's Essay on Bunyan's 
 
 Pilgrim's Progress. 
 Macaulay's Armada, and other 
 
 Poems. 
 Shakespeare's Merchant of Ve- 
 nice. (Selections from Acts I., 
 
 III., and IV.) 
 Goldsmith's Traveller. 
 Hogg's Queen's Wake, and Kil- 
 
 meny. 
 Coleridge's Ancient Mariner. 
 Addison's Sir Roger de Cover- 
 ley. 
 Gray's Elegy in a Country 
 
 Churchyard. 
 Scott's Lady of the Lake. (Canto 
 
 I.) 
 Shakespeare's As You Like It, 
 
 etc. (Selections.) 
 Shakespeare's King John, and 
 
 Richard II. (Selections.) 
 Shakespeare's Henry IV., Hen- 
 ry V., Henry VI. (Selections.) 
 Shakespeare's Henry VIII. , and 
 
 Julius Caesar. (Selections.) 
 Wordsworth's Excursion. (Bk.I.) 
 Pope's Essay on Criticism. 
 Spenser'sFaerieQueene. (Cantos 
 
 I. and II.) 
 Cowper's Task. (Book I.) 
 Milton's Comus. 
 Tennyson's Enoch Arden, The 
 
 Lotus Eaters, Ulysses, and 
 
 Tithonus. 
 
 31 Irving's Sketch Book. (Selec- 
 tions.) 
 
 33 Dickens's Christmas Carol. 
 (Condensed.) 
 
 33 Carlyle's Hero as a Prophet. 
 
 34 Macaulay's Warren Hastings. 
 
 (Condensed.) 
 
 35 Goldsmith's Vicar of Wake- 
 
 field. (Condensed.) 
 
 36 Tennyson's The Two Voices, 
 
 and A Dream of Fair Women. 
 
 37 Memory Quotations. 
 
 38 Cavalier Poets. 
 
 39 Dryden's Alexander's Feast, 
 
 and MacFlecknoe. 
 
 40 Keats's The Eve of St. Agnes. 
 
 41 Irving.'s Legend of Sleepy Hol- 
 
 low. 
 43 Lamb's Tales from Shake- 
 speare. 
 
 43 Le Row's How to Teach Read- 
 
 ing. 
 
 44 Webster's Bunker Hill Ora- 
 
 tions. 
 
 45 The Academy OrthoJipist. A 
 
 Manual of Pronunciation. 
 
 46 Milton's Lycidas, and Hymn 
 
 on the Nativity. 
 
 47 Bryant's Thanatopsis, and other 
 
 Poems. 
 
 48 Ruskin's Modern Painters. 
 
 (Selections.) 
 
 49 The Shakespeare Speaker. 
 
 50 Thackeray's Roundabout Pa- 
 
 pers. 
 
 51 Webster's Oration on Adams 
 
 and Jefferson. 
 53 Brown's Rab and his Friends. 
 
 53 Morris's Life and Death of 
 
 Jason. 
 
 54 Burke's Speech on American 
 
 Taxation. 
 
 55 Pope's Rape of the Lock. 
 
 56 Tennyson's Elaine. 
 
 5 7 Tennyson's In Memoriam. 
 
 58 Church's Story of the yEneid. 
 
 59 Church's Story of the Iliad. 
 
 60 Swift's Gulliver's Voyage to 
 
 Lilliput. 
 
 61 Macaulay's Essay on Lord Ba- 
 
 con. (Condensed.) 
 63 The Alcestis of Euripides. Eng- 
 lish Version by Rev. R. Potter.M.A. 
 
 (Additional numbers on next page.) 
 
English Classic Series-continued. 
 
 63 The Antigone of Sophocles. 
 
 English Version by Thos. Franck- 
 lin, D.D. 
 
 64 Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 
 
 (Selected Poems.) 
 
 65 Robert Browning. (Selected 
 
 Poems.) 
 
 66 Addison's Spectator. tSelec'ns.) 
 
 67 Scenes from George Eliot's 
 
 Adam Bede. 
 
 68 Matthew Arnold's Culture and 
 
 Anarchy. 
 
 69 DeQuincey's Joan of Arc. 
 
 70 Carlyle's Essay on Burns. 
 
 71 Byron's Childe Harold's Pil- 
 
 grimage. 
 
 72 Poe's Raven, and other Po Q ms. 
 
 73 & 74 Macaulay's lK>rd Clive. 
 
 (Double Number.) 
 
 75 Webster's Reply to Hayne. 
 
 76&77 Macaulay's Lays of An- 
 cient Rome. (Double Number.) 
 
 78 American Patriotic Selections: 
 
 Declaration of Independence, 
 "Washington's Farewell Ad- 
 dress, Lincoln's Gettysburg 
 Speech, etc. 
 
 79 & 80 Scott's Lady of the Lake. 
 
 (Condensed.) 
 
 81 & 83 Scott's Marmion. (Con- 
 densed.) 
 
 83 & 84 Pope's Essay on Man. 
 
 85 Shelley's Skylark, Adonais, and 
 
 other Poems. 
 
 86 Dickens's Cricket on the 
 
 Hearth. 
 
 87 Spencer's Philosophy of Style. 
 
 88 Lamb's Essays of Elia. 
 
 89 Cowper's Task, Book II. 
 
 90 Wordsworth's Selected Poems. 
 
 91 Tennyson's The Holy Grail, and 
 
 Sir Galahad. 
 
 92 Addison's Cato. 
 
 93 Irving's Westminster Abbey, 
 
 and Christmas Sketches. 
 
 94 & 95 Macaulay's Earl of Chat- 
 
 ham. Second Essay. 
 
 96 English Ballads. 
 
 97 Skelton, Wyatt, and Surrey. 
 
 (Selected Poems.) 
 
 98 Edwin Arnold. (Selected Poems.) 
 
 99 Caxton and Daniel. (Selections.) 
 
 100 Fuller and Hooker. (Selections.) 
 
 101 Marlowe's Jew of Malta. (Con- 
 
 densed.) 
 
 102-103 Macaulay's Essay on Mil- 
 ton. (In Preparation.) 
 
 104-105 Macaulay's Essay on Ad- 
 dison. (In Preparation.) 
 
 106-107 Macaulay's Essay on Bos- 
 well's Johnson. (In Preparation.) 
 
 108-109 Macaulay's Essay on Frei 
 
 erick the Great. (In Prepar 
 
 - tion.) 
 
 110-111 Milton's Sampson Agoi 
 
 istes. (In Preparation.) 
 
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