No More Learning

Thus Merlin watched over the amusements of his young fairy,
and still more over the happiness of her every minute; for he
had taught her never to be idle. Under her skillful fingers the
brush or the needle created little masterpieces, so perfect and
elegant that they gave rise to the expression "to work like the
fairies"!
And note that before Vivian, fairies did nothing. Their only
diversion was to busy themselves with love affairs or intrigues
on earth. Their home was most monotonous, and they did not
know what to do with themselves in heaven. There, as in all


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courts of any rank, the receptions and companies almost killed
one with their dullness. Drawn up in a circle on feast days,
the fairies gazed upon each other in fixed beauty, which they
did not have even the fear of losing or seeing change.
As to the sylphs and genii who stood behind them, they too
yawned in their immortality. Judge then how they appreciated
the presentation to court of a witty, amiable, vivacious fairy.
She turned all heads, and drew all attention. They knew the
distractions of love; and the genii thought it would be delightful
to rob the old enchanter of the charming young girl he was
guarding.
One morning in Merlin's absence, Vivian found a satiny little
note on her dressing-table, containing a declaration of love,
signed Zelindor. Zelindor was the handsomest and most foppish
of all the genii. In manner and bearing, in his least actions,
he concerned himself with only one thing,- to know if he was
admired; and his eyes, which were superb, seemed to have been
given him only to see whether or not he was being noticed.
That evening Vivian found in her work-basket a dozen other
little satiny papers.
As soon as Merlin returned, she carried him the whole col-
lection. The indignant enchanter wanted to rage.
"Read them first," she said.
He read, and then tremblingly asked what she thought of all
these demonstrations of affection.
"I think," she answered, "that they are very badly written. "
«< They say nothing to your heart? "
"Nothing. "
Merlin wore two rings on his left hand. One was an emer-
ald: when he took it off his finger and held it to his mouth, he
ceased to be invisible, and appeared under his true form to mor-
tal eyes. The other, more useful and more to be feared, was of
a single ruby. With this ring he could read hearts, and see
what every one was thinking.
He seized this ring, regarded it attentively, and was soon
convinced that Vivian had spoken the truth.
"Yes! yes! " he cried. "You are indifferent to Zelindor and
all the other sylphs, and prefer me. "
"Ah! that's unkind! " cried Vivian interrupting him, "very
unkind! "
"To convince myself of your friendship? "


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"No! But to surprise the secrets that I want to have the
pleasure of telling you. "
"Ah! you are charming! " cried Merlin, transported with joy.
"So you love me, then? "
"Aren't you my friend, my benefactor, my father, to whom I
owe everything? "
"Yes,—it is true," said the enchanter, only half satisfied: "and
I love you too, Vivian, ardently, passionately; and that is the
way I want you to love me. ”
"I don't understand," said Vivian. "I prefer you to all
whom I see or hear,-to all who are about us. "
"Yes," said Merlin to himself, "that is just what I once
asked from Alaciel, and which he has granted. But," he said,
speaking out loud without meaning to do so, "I made a great
mistake in not asking more. "
"And what more do you want? " she asked with an affection-
ate smile.
"When you are with me, does your heart beat more quickly? »
་
"No," answered Vivian in a pure, candid voice.
"And yet you love me a little ? "
"Better than all the world. "
"And you consent, dear child, to be mine? »
"Yes. "
Merlin kissed the fresh rosy cheek of the young fairy, and
trembling with emotion, let himself fall into a chair, gazing after
Vivian as she bounded away and disappeared behind the clumps
of lilacs.
THE PRICE OF LIFE
J
OSEPH, opening the parlor door, came to tell us the post-chaise
was ready. My mother and sister threw themselves in my
arms.
"It is not too late," they said. "Give up this journey. Stay
with us. "
«<< Mother, I am a gentleman; I am twenty years old; I must
have a name in the country. I must make my way, either in
the army or at court. "
"And when you are gone, what will become of me, Bernard ? »
"You will be happy and proud to hear of your son's success. "
XXII-819


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"And if you are killed in some battle? "
"What matters it? What is life? Does a man think of
that? When a man is twenty and a gentleman, he thinks only
of glory. In a few years, mother, I'll come back a colonel, or
marshal, or else with a fine office at Versailles. "
"Ah well! what will come of it if you do? "
"I shall be respected and thought much of. ”
"What then? "
"Then every one will salute me. "
"And then? ”
"Then I will wed my cousin Henrietta, and settle my young
sisters in marriage, and we will all live with you, tranquil and
happy in my Bretagne domain. "
"And why can't you begin to-day? Didn't your father leave
us the finest fortune in the country? Is there a richer domain
for ten leagues around, or a finer castle than Roche-Bernard?
Do not your vassals respect you? As you go through the village,
does any one fail to take off his hat? Don't leave us, my son!
Stay with your friends, your sisters, and your old mother who
may not be here when you come back. Don't squander in vain-
glory, or shorten by all kinds of cares and torments, the days that
roll so fast anyway. Life is so sweet, my boy, and the sun of
Bretagne so glorious! "
While speaking, she pointed through the windows at the
pretty paths of my park, the old chestnut-trees in blossom, the
lilacs and honeysuckles which perfumed the air. In the ante-
chamber the gardener and all his family had gathered sad and
silent, seeming to express-"Don't go, young master, don't go. "
Hortense, my elder sister, pressed me in her arms; and Amélie,
my little sister, who was looking at the pictures in a volume of
La Fontaine, offered me the book.
"Read, read, brother," she said weeping.
It was the fable of the two pigeons! I rose brusquely; I
pushed them all away.
"I am twenty, and a gentleman: I must have honor and
fame. Let me go. "
And I hurried into the court. I was stepping into the post-
chaise when a woman appeared on the steps. It was Henrietta.
She did not weep, she did not utter a word; but, pale and
trembling, she could scarcely support herself. With the white


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handkerchief in her hand she waved me a last good-by, then
fell unconscious. I rushed to her, lifted her, pressed her in my
arms, swore to love her always; and as she came to herself, leav-
ing her to the care of my mother and sisters, I ran to my car-
riage without stopping or turning my head. If I had looked at
Henrietta I could not have gone.
A few minutes later the post-chaise was rolling along the thor-
oughfare. For a long time I thought of nothing but my sisters,
my mother, and Henrietta, and all the happiness I was leaving
behind me. But as the towers of Roche-Bernard gradually van-
ished, these ideas faded; and soon dreams of glory and ambition
took possession of my mind. What projects, what castles in
Spain, what fine actions, I created for myself in my post-chaise!
Riches, honors, dignities, all kinds of success, I denied myself
nothing; I merited and received everything; finally, rising in
rank as I proceeded, I became duke, peer, provincial governor,
and marshal of France, before reaching my inn in the evening!
My servant's voice, modestly calling me "Monsieur," forced me
to return to myself and abdicate.
The following days the same dreams, the same intoxication,
for my journey was a long one. I was going to the neigh-
borhood of Sedan, to the Duke of C; an old friend of my
father, and patron of my family. He was to take me to Paris,
where he was expected at the end of the month; present me at
Versailles, and obtain for me through his influence a company
of dragoons.
――――
I reached Sedan in the evening, and as it was late I post-
poned calling upon my patron until the morrow; and went to
lodge at the Arms of France, the finest hotel in the city, and
the usual rendezvous for officers. For Sedan is a garrisoned
town. The streets have a warlike aspect, and the citizens them-
selves a martial bearing, which seems to tell strangers, "We are
compatriots of the great Turenne. "
While chatting at the supper table I inquired the way to the
Duke of C's castle, which was about three leagues from the
town.
"Any one will tell you," they said. "It is well known about
here. It is there that a great warrior, a celebrated man,- Mar-
shal Fabert,- died. "
And the conversation turned to Marshal Fabert, as was quite
natural among young soldiers. They talked of his battles, his
-


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exploits, his modesty,- which made him refuse letters of nobil-
ity and the collar of his order offered him by Louis XIV. They
spoke especially of the remarkable good fortune which had made
the simple soldier-the son of a printer-a marshal of France.
At that time he was the sole example of such advancement,
which even during his life had seemed so extraordinary that the
vulgar had not hesitated to assign it to supernatural causes.
They said that from childhood he had busied himself with magic
and sorcery; that he had made a compact with the devil.
And our landlord, who added the credulity of the Breton to
the stupidity of a peasant of Champagne, assured us with great
coolness that in the castle where Fabert had died, a black man
whom no one knew had been seen to go into his room, and had
then disappeared, bearing with him the marshal's soul, which
belonged to him from an earlier purchase. He said that even
yet, in May, the time of Fabert's death, the black man appeared
at evening carrying a little light.
This story enlivened our dessert, and we drank a bottle of
champagne to Fabert's familiar demon, inviting him to take us
also under his protection, and to make us gain a few battles like
Colhoures and La Marféc.
The next day I rose early, and made my way to the castle of
the Duke of C; an immense Gothic manor which at another
time I might not have noticed especially, but which, remembering
the account of the evening before, I now regarded with curiosity
and emotion.
The valet to whom I addressed myself answered that he did
not know whether his master was at home, or if he could receive
me. I gave him my name, and he left me alone in a kind of
armory, hung with paraphernalia of the chase and family por-
traits.
I waited for some time, and no one came. So the career of
glory and honor I had dreamed began in the antechamber, I said
to myself; and grew discontented and impatient. I had counted
the family portraits and the beams of the ceiling two or three
times, when I heard a slight sound. A door not quite closed had
been blown ajar. I looked in, and saw a very pretty room, lighted
by a glass door and by two great windows which looked upon
a magnificent park. I took a few steps in this room, and then
stopped at a sight I had not yet noticed. A man with his back
toward me was lying on a sofa. He rose, and without noticing


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13093
me, rushed to the window. Tears furrowed his cheeks. Pro-
found despair seemed printed on all his features. He stood
motionless for some time, with his head buried in his hands;
then he began to stride up and down. Now he saw me and trem-
bled. I, pained and abashed at my own indiscretion, wanted to
withdraw, murmuring words of excuse.
"Who are you? What do you want? he said in a strong
voice, holding my arm.
"I am Sir Bernard of Roche-Bernard; and I have just arrived
from Bretagne. "
"I know, I know," he said, and threw himself into my arms;
then made me sit beside him, talking so eagerly of my father
and all my family that I did not doubt he was the owner of the
castle.
"You are M. de C-? " I asked.
He rose and looked at me excitedly. "I was, but I am no
longer; I am nothing! " And seeing my astonishment, he ex-
claimed, "Not another word, young man: do not question me! "
"But, sir, I have unintentionally witnessed your sorrow; and
if my friendship, my devotion, can bring you any comfort-»
"Yes, yes, you're right. Not that you can change my fate,
but at least you can receive my last wishes. That is all I ask of
you! "
He closed the door; then sat down again beside me, who,
trembling and agitated, awaited his words. His physiognomy
bore an expression I had never seen on any one. The brow I
studied seemed marked by fatality. His face was pale; his black
eyes flashed; from time to time his features, changed by suffer-
ing, contracted with an ironic, infernal smile.
"What I am going to tell you," he continued, "will confound
your reason. You will doubt you will not believe I myself
still doubt very often, at least I try to: but there are the
proofs; and in all our surroundings in our very organization —
there are many other mysteries that we have to accept without
understanding. "
――――――
He stopped a moment as though to collect his ideas, passed a
hand over his brow, and went on:-
"I was born in this castle. I had two brothers, both older,
who would inherit the property and titles of our family. There
was nothing for me but an abbé's mantle; and yet thoughts of
glory and ambition fermented in my head, and made my heart


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beat. Unhappy in obscurity, hungry for renown, I dreamed only
how to acquire it, and was insensible to all the pleasures and
sweetness of life. The present was nothing to me; I lived only
in the future, and that presented itself to me in darkest colors.
"I was almost thirty, and had accomplished nothing. At that
time, in the capital, literary reputations whose fame reached even
our province were springing up everywhere.
"Ah! I often said to myself, if I could only win a name in
letters! That would give me the glory which is the only happi-
ness!
"As confidant of my sorrows I had an old servant, an aged
negro, who had been in the castle before I was born, and was
certainly the most ancient inmate, for no one remembered his
coming. The country people declared even that he had known
Marshal Fabert, and had witnessed his death. "
I started; and the speaker asked me what was the matter.
"Nothing," I answered; but I could not help thinking of the
black man about whom my landlord had been talking the evening
before.
M. de C continued: "One day, before Yago (that was the
negro's name), I yielded to the despair inspired by my obscurity
and useless existence, and cried out, I would give ten years of
my life to be placed in the first rank of our authors! '
"Ten years,' he said coldly: 'that is a great deal. That is
a large price for a slight thing. Never mind. I accept your ten
I will take them. Remember your promise; I will keep
years.
mine. '
"I cannot paint my surprise at hearing this. I thought the
years must have enfeebled his reason. I smiled and shrugged
my shoulders; and a few days later I left this castle to go to
Paris. There I found myself launched in literary circles. Their
example encouraged me; and I published several works whose
success I won't recount now. All Paris hastened to applaud
them; the journals resounded with my praises; the new name I
had adopted became famous: and even yesterday, young man,
you yourself were admiring it-»
Here another gesture of surprise from me interrupted him.
"Then you are not the Duke de C-? " I exclaimed.
"No," he answered coldly.
And I said to myself, "A celebrated author! -is he Marmon-
tel? is he D'Alembert? is he Voltaire ? "


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13095
My unknown smiled; a sigh of regret and contempt touched
his lips, and he continued:-
"The literary reputation I had desired soon ceased to satisfy
a spirit as ardent as mine. I aspired to nobler success; and I
said to Yago, who had followed me to Paris: 'There is no real
glory or veritable fame except in the career of arms. What is
a man of letters, a poet? Nothing at all. Tell me of a great
captain, a general,- that is the destiny for me; and for a grand.
military reputation I would give ten of the years which remain
to me. '
"I accept them,' answered Yago. 'I take them. They be-
long to me. Don't forget it. '»
At this point the unknown stopped again, seeing the trouble
and hesitation in my face.
"I told you, young man, you could not believe me. This
seems a dream, a chimera, to you- to me also! And yet the
rank, the honors I obtained, were no illusion: the soldiers I led
under fire, the redoubts captured, the flags conquered, the vic-
tories with which all France resounded, were all my work;-all
this glory was mine! "
While he was walking up and down, talking thus with heat
and enthusiasm, my surprise increased, and I thought: "Who
is beside me? Is it Coigny? is it Richelieu? is it Marshal
Saxe? "
From a state of exaltation, my unknown fell into depression;
and drawing near, he said gloomily:-
-
"Yago was right; and later, when disgusted with the vain
incense of military glory, I aspired to what is alone of real and
positive value in this world,-when, at the price of five or six
years of existence, I desired gold and riches, he granted them to
me. Yes, young man; yes, I have seen fortune second and sur-
pass all my wishes,-lands, forests, castles. This very morning
all was still in my power; and if you don't believe me, if you
doubt Yago, wait-wait-he is coming, and you will see for
yourself, with your own eyes, that what confounds your reason
and mine is unhappily only too real. "
-
The unknown approached the mantelpiece, looked at the clock,
made a gesture of horror, and said in a low voice:-
"This morning at dawn I felt so weak and exhausted that I
could scarcely rise. I rang for my valet. Yago appeared.
"What is the matter with me? ' I said to him.


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"Master, nothing that is not very natural. The hour is
approaching; the moment is at hand. '
"And which-? '
"Can't you guess? Heaven had accorded you sixty years of
life; you had had thirty when I began to obey you. '
"Yago! I cried in terror, are you speaking seriously? '
"Yes, master; in five years you have expended in glory
twenty-five years of existence. You gave them to me.
belong to me, and will now be added to mine. '
They
"What! That was the price of your services? '
"Others have paid still more; for example, Fabert, whom
also I protected. '
"Be quiet! Be quiet! ' I said to him.
"This isn't possible.
It isn't true! '
"As you will: but prepare yourself; for you have only half
an hour to live. '
"You are mocking me; you are deceiving me! '
"Not at all. Calculate it yourself. Thirty-five years which
you have really lived, and twenty-five that you have lost! Total,
sixty. That is your account. To every one his own! '
"And he wanted to go-and I felt myself growing weaker; I
felt life escaping from me.
«Yago! Yago! Give me a few hours-a few hours more! '
"No, no,' he answered. 'That would shorten my account,
and I know better than you the price of life. There is no treas-
ure worth two hours of existence. '
"And I could scarcely speak; my eyes were clouding, the
coldness of death was chilling my veins.
"Ah! ' I said with an effort, 'take back the gifts for which
I have sacrificed everything. For four hours more I will re-
nounce my gold and all the opulence I so desired. '
"So be it. You have been a good master, and I will grant
you that. '
"I felt my strength coming back; and I cried, 'Four hours
is so little! Yago! Yago! grant me four more, and I will give
up my literary fame, and all the works which placed me so high
in the esteem of the world. '
«Four hours for that! ' said the negro disdainfully. 'It is a
great deal.
Never mind: I will not refuse this last grace. ’
"No, not the last,' I said clasping my hands. Yago! Yago!
I implore you, give me until evening,-the entire day, and let
-


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13097
my exploits and victories, my military fame, be forever effaced
from the memory of men! This day, Yago, this whole day, and
I will be content! '
«You abuse my goodness,' he answered; 'and I am making
a foolish bargain. But never mind again. You shall live till sun-
set. Ask no more. Then good-by until evening! I will come
for you. '
"And he went away," continued the unknown despairingly,
"and this day is the last which remains to me! " Then approach-
ing the glass door which opened upon the park, he cried: “I
shall no longer see this beautiful sky, these green lawns, this
sparkling water; I shall no longer breathe the air fragrant with
spring! Fool that I was! For twenty-five years longer I might
still enjoy the good things which God bestows upon all, and
whose sweetness I appreciate now for the first time! And I
have exhausted my days! I have sacrificed them to a vain
chimera, to a sterile fame, which did not make me happy, and
which is dead before me! See-see" he said, pointing to the
peasants who were singing as they crossed the park to their
work: "what would I not give to share their labor and poverty!
But I have no longer anything to give nor anything to hope,
here below-not even unhappiness! "
At that moment a ray of sun, of the sun of May, lighted up
his pale distracted features. He seized my arm with a kind of
delirium and said:-
"See see them! How beautiful the sun is! How beautiful
the country is! I must leave all that! Ah, at least let me enjoy
it once more! Let me catch the full savor of this pure beautiful
day for me there will be no morrow! "
He rushed out into the park, and disappeared down a winding
path before I could stop him.
In truth I had not strength to do it. I had fallen back on
the sofa, overcome with what I had seen and heard. I rose and
walked, to assure myself that I was not dreaming. Then the
door opened, and a servant said to me:-
"Here is my master, the Duke de C. ”
A man of about sixty, of distinguished appearance, came for-
ward, offering me his hand, and apologizing for keeping me wait-
ing.
"I was not at home," he said. "I have just come from town,
where I have been seeking advice upon the health of my younger
brother. "


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"Is his life in danger? " I exclaimed.
"No, monsieur, thank Heaven," answered the duke: "but in
his youth, thoughts of glory and ambition exalted his imagina-
tion; and recently a severe illness has left him prey to a kind of
delusion, in which he is constantly convinced that he has only one
day longer to live. It is his mania. ”
All was explained!
«<
"Now as to you, young man," continued the duke: we must
see what we can do to advance you. We will start for Versailles
at the end of the month. I will present you. "
"I know your kind disposition toward me, monsieur, and wish
to thank you; but-"
"What! you have not renounced the court, and the advan-
tages which await you there? "
"Yes, monsieur. "
"But remember that with my help you can make your way
rapidly; and that with a little patience and perseverance you can
in ten years—"
"Ten lost years! " I exclaimed.
"But then," he continued in astonishment, "is that too dear
a price for glory and fortune and honors? Come, come, young
man, we will go to Versailles. "
"No, duke: I am going back to Bretagne; and once more I
beg you to receive my thanks, and those of my family. "
"It is madness! " exclaimed the duke.
And thinking of what I had seen and heard, I said to myself.
"It is wisdom! "
The next day I started; and with what delight I saw again
my noble castle of Roche-Bernard, the old trees of my park, the
glorious Bretagne sun! I had recovered my vassals, my sisters,
my mother-and happiness! which has never deserted me since;
for one week later I married Henrietta.


## p. 13099 (#533) ##########################################

13099
JOHN SELDEN
(1584-1654)
F SELDEN, Milton wrote, "The chief of learned men reputed
in this land, John Selden. " So our own Sumner: "John
Selden, unsurpassed for learning and ability in the whole
splendid history of the English bar. " And Edward Hyde, Earl of
Clarendon: "Mr. Selden was a person whom no character can flat-
ter, or transmit in any expressions equal to his merit and virtue. "
Selden was the writer of many learned books: books upon the law,
books upon the customs of the Hebrews, books upon all manner of
abstruse subjects, books in English and in
Latin; that which remains of him is a book
which he neither published nor wrote. Like
White's Natural History of Selborne,' and
not a few other books which "were not
born to die," Selden's Table-Talk' was
a work which came without observation.
Much of his deliberate work is dry as dry
could be. Aubrey, who is relied upon in
some measure for his biography, says that
he was a poet, and quotes Sir John Suck-
ling as authority; nothing would seem more
improbable from what he has to say upon
poetry: "Tis a fine thing for Children to
learn to make Verse; but when they come
to be men they must speak like other men, or else they will be
laught at. 'Tis ridiculous to speak, or write, or preach in Verse. As
'tis good to learn to dance, a man may learn his Leg, learn to go
handsomely; but 'tis ridiculous for him to dance when he should go. "
JOHN SELDEN
His father was "a sufficient plebeian," of the village of Salvington
in Sussex, and proficient in music; by which he is said to have won
his wife, who was of somewhat higher station in life. John was born
in his cottage at Salvington, December 16th, 1584, in the latter part
of the reign of Queen Elizabeth; and died, a man of great distinction
and wealth, at Whitefriars in London, November 30th, 1654, in the
sixth year of the Commonwealth. It was a rich period in English
literature; the period of Shakespeare and Bacon and Milton and Jon-
son and their companions. And it was a stirring period in history,



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13100
JOHN SELDEN
covering as it did the reigns of James I. and Charles I. , the trial
and beheading of the latter, and the ascendency of Cromwell and
the Puritans. The boy John Selden, educated at the Free School in
Chichester, and at Hart Hall, Oxford, had hardly more than settled
himself at the Inner Temple and reached man's estate, when he had
"not only run through the whole body of the law, but become a
prodigy in most parts of learning; especially in those which were
not common, or little frequented or regarded by the generality of
students of his time. So that in a few years his name was wonder-
fully advanced, not only at home, but in foreign countries; and was
usually styled the great dictator of learning of the English nation. "
In 1618, after issuing several other works, he published a 'History
of Tithes,' which had been licensed without question by the censor,
but nevertheless excited such an outcry that its author was sum-
moned before the King, and subsequently before the High Commis-
sion Court, and forced to recant. He acknowledged the error that
he had committed in publishing the book, but appears not to have
acknowledged any error in the book. The book was suppressed, and
afterward "confuted" by Dr. Montagu; and King James told Selden,
"If you or your friends write anything against his confutation, I will
throw you into prison. " He soon had an opportunity to test the
King's prisons for other reasons. He was incarcerated for five weeks
in 1621, for his share in the protest of the House of Commons in
respect to the rights and privileges of the members; and again in
1629 he was imprisoned in the Tower for many months on the charge
of sedition. He entered Parliament in 1624, and with the exception
of Charles's first Parliament, and the Short Parliament, he appears to
have been a member until his death. In the Long Parliament he
represented Oxford University, being returned without opposition.
Selden was always a conservative, not so much in the political
as in the natural, the literal, sense. During the earlier years of the
long contest between the King and the Commons, he leaned toward
the latter; but in after years his attitude was less satisfactory to
them. He was the arch-supporter of the law,- of human law: for
the Higher Law-at all events for the Jus Divinum as interpreted by
the clergy - he had slight esteem as against the law of the land. In
this he represented to the full one side of the shield: the other, that
which exhibits the supreme inner right of the individual, he seemed
sometimes wholly to ignore.
His reputation was so great that his support was sought on all
sides; but his independence caused him to reject some overtures,
while it prevented others. King Charles thought to make him Keeper
of the Great Seal; but was dissuaded on the ground that "he would
absolutely refuse the place if it were offered to him. " In 1647 he


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JOHN SELDEN
13101
It is
was elected Master of Trinity Hall, Cambridge, but declined.
said that he was so bent on preserving his thoughts that he would
sometimes write while under the barber's hands; which seems to show
that the barber did not make it a point to be so entertaining in those
days as of latter time.
For the last twenty years of his life, the Rev. Richard Milward
was his amanuensis; and it was by him that the Table-Talk' was
taken down bit by bit. It was not published until many years
after the death of both. Says Milward in his dedication: "I had the
opportunity to hear his Discourse twenty years together; and least all
those Excellent things that usually fell from him might be lost, some
of them from time to time I faithfully committed to writing.
Truly the Sense and Notion here is wholly his, and most of the
words. » The book is a rich storehouse. Coleridge says: "There is
more weighty bullion sense in this book than I ever found in the
same number of pages of any uninspired writer. "
In taking passages from it here and there, it should be premised
that other samples might be found of a sense quite different.
•
FROM THE TABLE-TALK'
THE SCRIPTURES
THE
'HE Text serves only to guess by: we must satisfie our selves
fully out of the Authors that liv'd about those times.
In interpreting the Scripture, many do as if a man
should see one have ten pounds, which he reckoned by 1. 2. 3. 4.
5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10,- meaning four was but four Unities, and five,
five Unities, etc. , and that he had in all but ten pounds; the
other that sees him, takes not the Figures together as he doth,
but picks here and there, and thereupon reports that he hath
five pounds in one Bag, and six pounds in another Bag, and
nine pounds in another Bag, &c. , whenas in truth he has but ten
pounds in all. So we pick out a Text here and there to make
it serve our turn; whereas, if we take it all together, and con-
sider'd what went before and what followed after, we should
find it meant no such thing.
THE BISHOPS
THE Bishops were too hasty, else with a discreet slowness
they might have had what they aim'd at. The old Story of the


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13102
JOHN SELDEN
Fellow that told the Gentleman that he might get to such a
place if he did not ride too fast, would have fitted their turn.
Bishops are now unfit to Govern, because of their Learning.