and twelve broad, having found Walls already rais'd for some other design, to the requisite height. Every Place of Retirement requires a Walk. My Thoughts sleep if I sit still; my Fancy does not go by it self, my legs must move it; and all those who study without a Book are in the same Condition. The Figure of my Study is round, and has no more flat Wall than what is taken up by my Table and Chairs; so that the remaining parts of the Circle present me a View of all my Books at once, set upon five Degrees of Shelves round about me. It has three noble and free Prospects, and is sixteen Paces Diameter. I am not so continually there in Winter; for my House is built upon an Eminence, as it's Name imports, and no part of it is so much expos'd to the Wind and Weather as that, which pleases me the better, for being of a painful Access, and a little remote, as well upon the account of Exercise, as being also there more retir'd from the Crowd. there that I am in my Kingdom, as we say, and there I endeavour to make my self an absolute Monarch, and to sequester this one Corner from all Society, whether Conjugal, Filial, or Civil. Elsewhere I have but verbal Authority only, and of a confus'd Essence. That Man, in my Opinion, is very miserable, who has not at home, where to be by himself, where to entertain himself alone, or to conceal himself from others. . . I think it much more supportable to be always alone than never to be so. If any one shall tell me, that it is to under-value the Muses, to make use of them only for Sport, and to pass away the Time; I shall tell him, that he does not know the value of Sport and Pastime so well as I do; I can hardly forbear to add further,

'Tis

that all other end is ridiculous. I live from Hand to Mouth, and, with Reverence be it spoken, I only live for my self; to that all my Designs do tend, and in that terminate. I studied when young for Ostentation; since to make my self a little wiser; and now for my Diversion, but never for any Profit. A vain and prodigal Humour I had after this sort of Furniture, not only for supplying my own needs and defects, but moreover for Ornament and outward show; I have since quite abandon'd it. Books have many charming Qualities to such as know how to choose them. But every Good has it's Ill; 'tis a Pleasure that is not pure and clean, no more than others: It has it's Inconveniences, and great ones too. The Mind indeed is exercised by it, but the Body, the care of which I must withal never neglect, remains in the mean time without Action, grows heavy and melancholy. I know no Excess more prejudicial to me, nor more to be avoided in this my declining Age.-Of Three Commerces. (Charles Cotton's Translation, 1685.)

JOHN FLORIO. 1545-1625.
Concerning the Honour of Books.

Since honour from the honourer proceeds,
How well do they deserve, that memorize
And leave in books for all posterities

The names of worthies and their virtuous deeds;
When all their glory else, like water-weeds
Without their element, preséntly dies,

And all their greatness quite forgotten lies,

And when and how they flourished no man heeds!

28

JOHN FLORIO-SIR PHILIP SIDNEY.

How poor remembrances are statues, tombs
And other monuments that men erect

To princes, which remain in closed rooms,
Where but a few behold them, in respect
Of Books, that to the universal eye

Show how they lived; the other where they lie!
Prefixed to the second edition of John Florio's
Translation of Montaigne's Essays, 1613.—
[Vide Notes to D. M. Main's Treasury of
English Sonnets, p. 248, in reference to
this Sonnet.]

BOOK OF COMMON PRAYER. 1549. Read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest.-Collect for Second Sunday in Advent.

JOHN LYLYE [or LILLY]. 1553-1601.

far more seemely were it for thee to have thy Studie full of Bookes, than thy Purses full of Mony.-Euphues; the Anatomy of Wit.

SIR PHILIP SIDNEY.

1554-1586.

It is manifest that all government of action is to be gotten by knowledge, and knowledge, best, by gather ing many knowledges, which is reading.

LORD BACON. 1561-1629.

Studies serve for delight, for ornament, and for ability. Their chief use for delight is in privateness and retiring; for ornament is in discourse; and for

ability is in the judgment and disposition of business. Read not to contradict and confute, nor to

believe and take for granted, nor to find talk and discourse, but to weigh and consider. Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested; that is, some books are to be read only in parts; others to be read, but not curiously; and some few to be read wholly, and with diligence and attention. Reading maketh a

full man; conference a ready man; and writing an exact man; and, therefore, if a man write little, he had need have a great memory: if he confer little, he had need have a present wit: and if he read little, he had need have much cunning to seem to know that he doth not.

The images of men's wits and knowledge remain in books, exempted from the worry of time and capable of perpetual renovation. Neither are they fitly to be called images, because they generate still, and cast their seeds in the minds of others, provoking and causing infinite actions and opinions in succeeding ages.

We enter into a desire of knowledge sometimes from a natural curiosity and inquisitive appetite; sometimes to entertain our minds with variety and delight; sometimes for ornament and reputation; sometimes to enable us to victory of wit and contradiction, and most times for lucre and profession; and seldom sincerely to give a true account of our gift of reason, for the benefit and use of man :-as if there were sought in knowledge a couch whereupon to rest a searching and restless spirit; or a terrace for a wandering and

variable mind to walk up and down, with a fair pros pect; or a tower of state for a proud mind to raise itself upon; or a fort or commanding ground for strife and contention; or a shop for profit or sale; and not a rich storehouse for the glory of the Creator and the relief of man's estate.

As the eye rejoices to receive the light, the ear to hear sweet music; so the mind, which is the man, rejoices to discover the secret works, the varieties and beauties of nature. The inquiry of truth, which is the love-making or wooing it; the knowledge of truth, which is the presence of it; and the belief of truth, which is the enjoying it, is the sovereign good of our nature. The unlearned man knows not what it is to descend into himself or to call himself to account, or the pleasure of that "suavissima vita indies sentire se fieri meliorem." The mind of man doth wonderfully endeavour and extremely covet that it may not be pensile; but that it may light upon something fixed and immoveable, on which, as on a firmament, it may support itself in its swift motions and disquisitions. Aristotle endeavours to prove that in all motions of bodies there is some point quiescent; and very elegantly expounds the fable of Atlas, who stood fixed and bore up the heavens from falling, to be meant of the poles of the world whereupon the conversion is accomplished. In like manner, men do earnestly seek to have some Atlas or axis of their cogitations within themselves, which may, in some measure, moderate the fluctuations and wheelings of the understanding, fearing it may be the falling of their heaven.