them in true religion; in sum, taught the world no less virtuously how to die, than they had done before how to live*."

Of the occasional sublimity and beauty both in thought and diction, which enliven the folio of Hooker, some evidence may be deemed necessary. I therefore bring forward the annexed sentence, as a proof of energy and felicity of construction inferior to no subsequent attempts:

"Of law, there can be no less acknowledged than that her seat is the bosom of God, her voice the harmony of the world. All things in heaven and earth do her homage; the very least as feeling her care, and the greatest as not exempted from her power. Both angels and men, and creatures of what condition soever, though each in different sort and manner, yet all with uniform consent, admiring her as the mother of their peace and joy +."

The ease, simplicity, and sweetness, which mark the diction of the next example, together with the exquisite sentiment which terminates it, cannot be sufficiently admired. Soliciting the archbishop for retirement from the temple for the purpose of study, he observes,

"I have searched many books, and spent many thoughtful hours; and I hope not in vain; for I *Book v. p. 250, edition of 1682. + Vide p. 103.

write to reasonable men. But, my lord,

shall

never be able to finish what I have begun, unless I be removed into some quiet country parsonage, where I may see God's blessings spring out of my mother earth, and eat mine own bread in peace and privacy *"

From a contemporary author of higher rank, and of eminent knowledge of the world, the celebrated but unfortunate SIR WALTER RALEIGH, a style more consonant to the genius of the language, and approximating nearer to present usage, may naturally be expected. "Raleigh," remarks Hume, "is the best model of that ancient style, which some writers would affect to revive at present." The observation is well founded; the diction of Raleigh is more pure and perspicuous, and more free from inversions, than that of any other writer of the age of Elizabeth or James the First. A couple of extracts from his great work, "The History of the World," which was published in April 1614, will fully confirm this opinion. He thus describes the passage of Xerxes over the Hellespont, when marching against the liberties of Greece:

"He gave order, that a bridge upon boats * Walton's Life of Hooker, prefixed to the Ecclesiastical Polity, p. 17:

should be made over the Hellespont between Abidus and Sestos, the sea there having a mile of breadth, wanting an eighth part; which, after the finishing, was by a tempest torn asunder and dissevered whereupon Xerxes, being more enraged than discouraged, commanded those to be slain that were masters of the work, and caused six hundred threescore and fourteen gallies to be coupled together, thereon to frame a new bridge; which, by the art and industry of the Phenicians, was so well anchored to resist both winds blowing into and from the Euxine sea, as the same being well boarded and railed, the whole army of seventeen hundred thousand foot, and fourscore thousand horse, with all the mules and carriages, passed over it into Europe in seven days and seven nights, without intermission. This transportation of armies did Casar afterwards use; and Caligula, that mad emperor, in imitation of Xerxes' bridge, did build the like.

"The bridge finished, and the army brought near to the sea-side, Xerxes took a view of all his troops, assembled in the plains of Abidus, being carried up, and seated on a place over-topping the land round about it, and the sea adjoining and after he had gloried in his own happiness, to behold and command so many nations, and so powerful an army and fleet, he sud

denly (notwithstanding) burst out into tears, moved with this contemplation, that in one hundred years there should not any one survive of that marvellous multitude *."

In relating the fatal battle of Canna, Sir Walter has given the following picture of the Consul Æmilius, which I have selected, as it introduces an act of high heroism drawn from the annals of our native country:

"Emilius-who could not sit his horse, whilst the battle yet lasted, and whilst the spaces were somewhat open, by which he might have withdrawn himself, was now (had he never so well been mounted) unable to fly, having in his way so close a throng of his own miserable followers, and so many heaps of bodies as fell apace in that great carnage. It sufficeth unto his honour, that in the battle he fought no less valiantly, than he had warily before both abstained himself, and dissuaded his fellow-consul from fighting at all. If, when the day was utterly lost, it had lain in his power to save his own life, unto the good of his country, never more needing it; I should

*Book iii. Sect. 2. p. 404. I quote from the eleventh edition of the History of the World, published in London in 1736, in two volumes folio, and which, though accurately printed as to matter, from a copy revised by Sir Walter himself, has injudiciously adopted the modern orthogra phy.

think that he either too much disesteemed himself, or, being too faintly minded, was weary of the world, and his unthankful citizens. But if such a resolution were praise-worthy in Emilius, as proceeding out of Roman valour, then was the English virtue of the Lord John Talbot, viscount Lisle, son to that famous Earl of Shrewsbury, who died in the battle of Chastillon, more highly to be honoured. For Emilius was old, grievously, if not mortally wounded, and accountable for the overthrow received; Talbot was in the flower of his youth, unhurt, easily able to have escaped, and not answerable for that day's misfortune, when he refused to forsake his father; who foreseeing the loss of the battle, and not meaning to stain his actions past by flying in his old age, exhorted this his noble son to be gone and leave him *."

The next character who demands our notice in the history of style, is the founder of genuine philosophy, the immortal BACON, who has been almost as much celebrated for his diction, as his matter. Ben Jonson affirms, "that he may be named and stand as the mark and acme of our language +." Addison, in the Tatler, N° 267, declares that he had "all the beautiful lights, graces,

*Book 5. Section 8. p. 626.

+ Discoveries, Whalley's Edition, vol, vii. p. 100. VOL. II.

с