"Fie on't, the very thought of marriage were able to coole the hottest liver in France."

In the following favourite passage, Shakespeare has admirably sketched the seven ages of man's life :

All the world's a stage,

JAQUES.

And all the men and women merely players:

They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Meuling and puking in the nurse's arms;
Then the whining school-boy, with his satchel,
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school: and then, the lover;
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow: then, a soldier;
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation

Even in the cannon's mouth: and then, the justice;

In fair round belly, with good capon lin❜d,
With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances,

And so he plays his part: The sixth

age shifts

Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon;
With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side;
His youthful hose well sav'd, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound: Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,

Is second childishness, and mere oblivion;

Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

As You Like It, ii., 7.

In the Customs of London and Arnold's Chronicle, printed by Pynson, "the seven ages of man lyving in ye worlde," are thus described: "The fyrst age is Infancie, and lastyth from the byrth unto seven yere of age. The second is chyldhod and enduryth unto fifteen yere age. The third age is adolescencye and enduryth unto twenty-five yere age. The fifth age is manhod. The sixth is old age and lasteth unto seventy yere age. The seventh age of a man is crepyll and enduryth unto dethe."

In The Treasury of Ancient and Modern Times, 1613, Proclus, a Greek author, is said to have divided the lifetime of man into Seven Ages; over each of which one of the seven planets was supposed to rule:-"The first age is called Infancy, containing the space of foure yeares. The second age containeth ten years, untill he attaine to the yeares of fourteene: this age is called Childhood. The third age consisteth of eight yeares, being named by our ancients Adolescencie or Youthhood; and it lasteth from fourteene, till two and twenty yeares be fully compleate. The fourth age paceth on, till a man have accomplished two and fortie yeares, and is tearmed Young Manhood. The fifth age named Mature Manhood, hath (according to the said author) fifteene yeares of continuance, and therefore makes his progress so far as six and fifty-yeares. Afterwards, in adding twelve to fifty-sixe, you shall make up sixty-eight yeares, which reach to the end of the sixth age, and is called old age. The seaventh and last of these seven ages is limited from sixty-eight yeares, so far as four-score and eight, being called weak, declining, and decrepite age. If any man chance to go beyond

this age, (which is more admired than noted in many) you shall evidently perceive that he will returne to his first condition of Infancy againe."

Hippocrates likewise divided the life of man into seven ages, but differs from Proclus in the number of years allotted to each period.* At the present time, it is usual to divide human life into only four periods, Infancy, Youth, Manhood, and Old Age.

The affecting fact of the transient duration of our life, the rapidity with which the several periods constituting the span of our existence succeed each other and hasten to an end, is happily impressed by Shakespeare's description of "men and women" being "merely players;" having alike their "entrances" and "exits," presenting "woeful pageants" in "this wide and universal theatre." One of the ancient Fathers speaks of the world as a kind of scenic exhibition; where certain figures move in a procession, nothing standing still, and every thing hastening to its final destination.

The term Infant, according to its etymology, is a human being not yet possessed of the faculty of speech. The imbecility, or helpless innocence, of Infancy is most admirably pourtrayed by Shakespeare; the term mewling so well expressing that indistinctness of the babe's cry, which is more the result of animal than of mental sensation. Indications of pain will arise from the action of the atmosphere; but the child is soon reconciled to it, and feels its genial influence. Buffon says the new-born infant is equally sensible of heat as of cold; in every situation it utters complaints, and pain appears to be its first and only sensation. Crying is the only means by which the tender infant can make known its wants. After its hunger has been appeased by the breast, instinct teaches the infant to throw off any superabundant quantity of nutriment without trouble to itself, or disgust to its mother. The infant, thus gently sick, is described by Shakespeare as "puking in the nurse's arms."

*See Brown's Vulgar Errors, folio, 1686, p. 173.

Childhood begins with the commencement of the power of speech. The child is now soon taught its letters, then syllables, then words; by which a foundation is laid for the further improvement of its intellect. The child is now sent to school; home, with all its attractions, is quitted every morning with a natural reluctance and aversion:

The whining school-boy, with his satchel,

And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school.

After a while, the "whining" speech and "the childish treble" undergo a change, till, with maturing years, it at length becomes "the big manly voice." Basset says that "the reason why youths of about fourteen or fifteen years of age become hoarse, having their voyces rough and unequall, and a little time after change their voyces into a more gross and grave tone, is because in that age, the organs and conduits of the body dilate and stretch themselves, and all the members ingrosse and fortifie, to be the more proper to travell, and especially to generation; and amongst other organs, that of the voyce dilateth itself also; but because that it is not done at a suddaine, nor according to some equally, by the artery of the throate, the voyce sharpe and small, stretcheth into a more grosse and grave tone, becometh unequall, untill it bee entirely changed by a perfect dilatation of the vocal artery." Again, he says, "Little infants have their voyces small and sharp, because they have the artery and pipe of the voyce more straite than perfect men, together that they have much humidity, the conduit of the voyce is stopped, and the voyce by the same means is more sharpe: for, as the pipes of wind-instruments expresse the sound more sharpe, if they be strayte and small: so is it of the arteries, organs, and conduits of the voyce.'

When the youth has arrived at the age of puberty, new ideas, new feelings, new passions, spring up to occupy the mind. The emotions of the lover, arising spontaneously, are of a

* R. Basset's Curiosities, or Cabinet of Nature, 1637, p. 7 and 166.

delightful and romantic nature, beyond the power of words adequately to describe. They open a fresh source of innocent enjoyment, and have a most important bearing upon the social affections. New relationships are formed which multiply the joys and divide the sorrows of the chequered path of human life.

*

It may reasonably be conjectured that Shakespeare himself was very susceptible of the tender passion, for he married when little more than eighteen. Whether or not he courted Anne Hathaway, "sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad to his mistress' eyebrow," we all know that the language of lovers is in every age the language of hyperbole and extravagance. It is deeply tinctured with enthusiasm. The anguish or distress of mind occasioned by the agitation of this passion, is compared by Shakespeare to the singular image of the roaring of the furnace produced by the violence of the fiery element. Sappho, in one of her odes, delineates with uncommon energy the agonies of jealous love; and Longinus, the prince of critics, commends the fidelity of her description. Thus it is that Sappho represents the fierce god of war, when affected with this passion, as groaning deeply :

Mars, with sudden pain possest,

Sighed from out his inmost breast!"

Ovid also, the great master of The Art of Love, pourtraying its effects, exclaims:

"What piteous sobs, as if his heart would break,

Shake his swol'n cheek!"

Thomson, who represents the lover as swelling the breeze with sighs unceasing, says:—

Straight the fierce storm involves the mind anew,

Flames through the nerves, and boils along the veins!"

From these passages of Sappho, Ovid, and Thomson, it appears that Shakespeare was justified in using strong expressions on the subject. Sighing like a furnace, indicates those tortures of the mind which vent the passion by groans, at once

Sighing like furnace.-Shakespeare also speaks of "windy sighs," "windy breath."

King John, ii., 2.