Till at the last, among the bowes glade
Of adventure, I caught a pleasant shade;
Full smooth, and plain, and lusty for to seen,
And soft as velvet was the yonge green:
Where from my horse I did alight as fast,
And on the bow aloft his reine cast.
So faint and mate of weariness I was,
That I me laid adoun upon the grass,
Upon a brinke, shortly for to tell,
Beside the river of a crystal well;
And the water as I reherse can,
Like quickesilver in his streams yran,
Of which the gravel and the brighte stone,
As any gold, against the sun y-shone.

SIR JOHN FORTESCUE.

1430-1470.

It is cowardise and lack of hartes and corage that kepith the Frenchemen from rysyng, and not povertye; which corage no Frencheman hath like to the English man. It hath ben often seen in England that iij or ij theves, for povertie hath sett upon vij or viij true men, and robbed them al. But it hath not been seen in France that vij or viij theves have ben hardy to robbe iij or iv true men. Wherfor it is right seld that Frenchemen be hangyd for robberye, for that they have no hertys to do so terrible an acte. There be therfor mo men hangyd in England in a yere for robberye and manslaughter than ther be hangyd in Fraunce for such cause of crime in vij yers, &c.

Welcome depainter of the bloomit meads,
Welcome the life of every thing that spreads,
Welcome storer of all kind bestial,

Welcome be thy bright beamis gladdand all.

WILLIAM CAXTON.

In 1471 he printed the first book in the English language. In a note to this publication, Caxton says: "For as much as age creepeth on me daily and feebleth all the bodie, and also because I have promised divers gentlemen, and to my friends, to address to them, as hastily as I might, this said book; therefore I have practised and learned, at my great charge and dispence, to ordain this said book in print, after the manner and form as ye may here see, and is not written with pen and ink, as other books ben, to the end that all men have them at once; for all the books of this story, named The Recule of the Historeys of Troyes, thus emprinted, as ye here see, were begun in one day and also finished in one day."

may

Mistress Alice, in my most heartywise I recommend me to you. And whereas I am informed by my son Heron of the loss of our barns and our neighbors' also, with all the

corn that was therein; albeit (saving God's pleasure) it were great pity of so much good corn lost; yet since it has liked him to send us such a good chance, we must, and are bounden not only to be content, but are also glad of his visitation. He sent us all that we have lost; and since he hath by such a chance taken it away again, his pleasure be fulfilled! Let us never grudge thereat, but take it in good worth, and thank him heartily as well for adversity as for prosperity. And peradventure we have more cause to thank him for our loss than for our winning, for his wisdom better seeth what is good for us than we do ourselves. Therefore I pray you, be

of good cheer, and take all the household with you to church, and there thank God, both for that he has given us, and for that which he has taken from us, and for that he hath left us; which, if it please him, he can increase when he will, and if it please him to leave us yet less, at his pleasure be it.".

He, making speedy way through spersed ayre,
And through the world of waters wide and deepe,
To Morpheus' house doth hastily repaire,
Amid the bowels of the earth full steepe;

And low, where dawning day doth never peepe,

His dwelling is, there Tethys his wet bed

Doth ever wash, and Cynthia still doth steepe

In silver deaw his ever drouping hed,

Whiles sad Night over him her mantle black doth spred.

Whose double gates he findeth locked fast,

The one fayre fram'd of burnished yvory,

The other all with silver overcast ;

And wakeful dogges before them farre doe lye,

Watching to banish care their enimy,
Who oft is wont to trouble gentle sleep.

By them the sprite doth pass in quietly,

And unto Morpheus comes, whom drouned deepe,

In drowsie fit he findes; of nothing he takes keepe.

There were hills which garnished their proud heights with stately trees; humble valleys, whose base estate seemed com

forted with the refreshing of silver rivers; meadows, enamelled with all sorts of eye-pleasing flowers; thickets, which being lined with the most pleasant shade, were witnessed so to by the cheerful disposition of many well-tuned birds; each pasture stored with sheep, feeding with sober security, while the pretty lambs, with bleating oratory, craved the dam's comfort; here a shepherd's piping, as though he should never be old; there a young shepherdess knitting, and withal singing ; and it seemed that her voice comforted her hands to work, and her hands kept time to her voice music.

They say the goodliest cedars which grow on the high mountains of Libanus thrust their roots between the clefts of hard rocks, the better to bear themselves against the strong storms that blow there. As reason has instructed those kings of trees, so has reason taught the kings of men to root themselves in the hardy hearts of their faithful subjects; and as those kings of trees have large tops, so have the kings of men large crowns, whereof, as the first would soon be broken from their bodies were they not underborne by many branches, so would the other easily totter were they not fastened on their heads by the strong chains of civil justice and martial discipline.

ROBERT HERRICK. Born 1591.

TO FIND GOD.

Weigh me the fire; or canst thou find
A way to measure out the wind;

Distinguish all those floods that are
Mixt in that watery theatre,

And taste thou them as saltless there
As in their channel first they were.
Tell me the people that do keep
Within the kingdoms of the deep;
Or fetch me back that cloud again,
Beshivered into seeds of rain.
Tell me the motes, dusts, sands, and spears
Of corn, when Summer shakes his ears:
Show me that world of stars, and whence
They noiseless spill their influence.

This if thou canst; then show me Him
That rides the glorious cherubim.

SIR THOMAS BROWNE.

1605-1682.

Light the Shadow of God.

Light, that makes things seen, makes some things invisible. Were it not for darkness and the shadow of the earth, the noblest part of creation had remained unseen, and the stars in heaven as invisible as on the fourth day, when they were created above the horizon with the sun, and there was not an eye to behold them. The greatest mystery of relig ion is expressed by adumbration, and in the noblest part of Jewish types we find the cherubim shadowing the mercyseat. Life itself is but the shadow of death, and souls departed but the shadows of the living. All things fall under this name. The sun itself is but the dark simulacrum, and

light but the shadow of God.

JEREMY TAYLOR.

1613-1667.

The Age of Reason and Discretion.

We must not think that the life of a man begins when he can feed himself or walk alone, when he can fight or beget his like, for so is he contemporary with a camel or a cow; but he is first a man when he comes to a certain steady use of his reason, according to his proportion; and when that is, all the world of men cannot tell precisely. Some are called at age at fourteen, some at one-and-twenty, some never; but all men late enough; for the life of a man comes upon him slowly and insensibly. But, as when the sun approaching

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