For Faith and Freedom
ed with me about the life that he fain would lead. A young man, I think, wants someone with whom he may speak freely concerning the thoughts which fill his soul. We who belong
while I still hold that the Nonconformist way of worship is more consonant with the Word of God. And, again, I am of opinion that the Law of Moses, which forbade any but a well-formed man from serving at the altar, hath in it something eternal. It denotes that as no cripple may serve at the earthly altar, so in heaven, of which the altar is an emblem, all those who dwell therein shall be perfect
e laugh at y
in the marshy forest lay down and died; an ague lasted all one's life; a sore throat putrefied and killed; a rheumatism threw a man upon the bed, from which he would never rise. The physician is man's chief friend. If our Sovereigns studied the welfare of humanity as deeply as the art of war, they would maintain, at vast expense, great colleges of learned men continually engaged in discovering the secrets of nature-the causes and the remedies of disease. What better use can a man make of his life th
learned books of the ancients on the science and practice of medicine
nothing else. Humphrey, for his part, read his Galen and his Celsus, but he neglected not the cultivation of those arts and accomplishments in which Mr. Boscorel was as ready a teacher as he w
ry delightful to hear. When I grew a great girl, and had advanced far enough, I was permitted to play with them. There was no end to the music which Mr. Boscorel possessed. First, he had a great store of English ditties such as country people love-as, 'Sing all a green willow,' 'Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,' or 'Once I loved a maiden fair.' There was nothing rough or rude in these songs, though I am informed that much wickedness is taught by the ribald songs that are sung in playhouses and coffee-rooms. And when we were n
g sacred, so that even the writer of bad verses cannot bear to have them laughed at. When thou art a year or two older thou wilt understand that they were written for thy heart as well as for thine eyes. Yet, if thou l
shing to show them to his
practice would give greater firmness, and that the crafty interlacing of thought and passion, which was the characteristic of Italian verse, could only be learned by much reading of
e back the ver
uch things as verses, art, and music are foolishness. I say that I complain not; but I would to Heaven that Humphrey were my own, and that his shoulders were straight, poor lad! Thy father hath made him a Puritan: he is such as John Milton in his youth-and as beautiful in face as that stout Republican. I doubt not that we shall have from the hand of Humphrey, if he l
if woman be truly the most beautiful work of the Creator (which all men aver), then it behoves her all the more still to
bove, and
ath many a
soft, the
brook, the bu
f dawn, th
glow, the e
thrush, the
g hedge, the
tate, the mo
ng stars in
hat ever ra
flying o'e
lovely thin
eye and wit
re is of pa
thing I giv
work, the las
s masterp
stream, and, t
us thing re
ce for heav
se eyes thy
love-there s
still doth p
ted. Why should he not always love me? I knew very well that he loved me, and that I loved him. Although he was so young, being only seventeen when he was entered at Exeter College, I suppose there never was a young gentleman went to the University of Oxford with so many accomplishments, and so much learning. By my father's testimony he read Greek as if it were his mother tongue, and he wrote and conversed easily in Latin: and you hav
my father (to whom also he sent such new books and pamphlets as he thought would i
dicine in those great schools which far surpass, they say, our English schools of medicine. These are that of Montpellier; the yet more famous school of Pad
ls carried him. These letters Mr. Boscorel read aloud, with a map spread before him, discoursing on the history of the place and the chief things to be
always making someone happy. He loved the open air, the wild creatures, the trees, the birds, everything that lives beneath the sky; yet not-like my poor brother Barnaby-a hater of books. He read all the books which told about creatures, or hunting, or country life; and all voya
went thither the year after his cousin. I never learned that he obtained a scholarship, or that he was conside
l. Also his grandfather would have him acquire some knowledge of the Court and the City, and the ways of the great and the ri
other two, bade me
both my hands in his, 'what
ily companions; and at the thought of being thus
grandfather; play backgammon with him; fill his pipe for him; sing to the spinnet for him; talk to him about Humphrey and me. And forget not Mr. Boscorel, my uncle. The poor man looks as melancholy since Humphrey went away as a turtle robbed of her nest. I saw him yesterday opening one of his drawers full of medals, and he sighed ove
said. 'Why, we all lo
me in his arms and kissed me on the lips. 'Dost thou also love to talk about me? Why, my dea
understood nothing more than that we
them in the packet for my mother. Thus thou wil
that his mind had plenty of room for more than one object. To be sure, I should have been foolish, indeed, had I desired
went abroad and joined Humphrey at Montpellier, and with him rode northwards to Ley