The poorest artisan of Rome, walking in Cesar's gardens, had the same pleasures which they ministered to their lord ; and although, it may be, he was put to gather fruits to eat from another place, yet his other senses were delighted equally with Cæsar's: the birds made him as good music, the flowers gave him as sweet smells; he there sucked as good air, and delighted in the beauty and order of the place, for the same reason and upon the same perception as the prince himself; save only that Cæsar paid, for all that pleasure, vast sums of money, the blood and treasure of a province, which the poor man had for nothing.

And so it is if the whole world should be given to any man. He knows not what to do with it; he can use no more but according to the capacities of a man; he can use nothing but meat, and drink, and clothes. He to whom the world can be given to any purpose greater than a private estate can minister must have new capacities created in him; he needs the understanding of an angel to take the accounts of his estate, he had need have a stomach like fire or the grave, for else he can eat no more than one of his healthful subjects; and unless he hath an eye like the sun, and a motion like that of a thought, and a bulk as big as one of the orbs of heaven,-the pleasures of his eye can be no greater than to behold the beauty of a little prospect from a hill, or to look upon a heap of gold packed up in a little room, or to dote upon a cabinet of jewels, better than which, there is no man that sees at all, but sees every day. For, not to name the beauties and sparkling diamonds of heaven, a man's, or a woman's, or a hawk's eye, is more beauteous and excellent than all the jewels of his crown. Understanding and knowledge are the greatest instruments of pleasure; and he that is most knowing hath a capacity to become happy, which a less knowing prince, or a rich person, hath not; and in this only a man's capacity is capable of enlargement. But then, although they only have power to relish any pleasure rightly who rightly understand the nature, and degrees, and essences, and ends of things; yet they that do so, understand also the vanity and unsatisfyingness of the things of this world: so that the relish, which could not be great but in a great understand

N

ing, appears contemptible, because its vanity appears at the same time the understanding sees all, and sees through it.

EXERCISE.-56. COMPOSITION.

1. Give other phrases for the following: undiscovered retirements, singularity of his possessions, imaginary complacency, the essences and ends of things.

2. Contrast in your own words the amount of happiness possessed by Cæsar and the poorest Roman.

3. Enumerate the qualities which the author thinks necessary to the enjoyment of the world as a possession.

fame [L. fama, from Gk. phemi, to say], renown, celebrity, good, or bad. con-quered [L. conquiro, to seek earnestly, from con, intensive; quæro, to seek], overcame, vanquished. checked [F. échec, a repulse], stopped, hindered, repulsed.

Ay, many a year I followed him
Whose course of glory's run;
Draw round me, friends,-I'll tell you where
I fought with Wellington.

For I was one who served with him

Through all his fields in Spain;

Ah, friends! his like we ne'er have secn,

Nor yet shall see again!

From India first we heard his fame;

I was not with him there,

But how he beat them at Assaye

Old soldiers can declare.

Of his wild dash at Doondiah's horse
I've often heard them tell;

Where there was fighting to be done,

Be sure he did it well.

*WILLIAM COX BENNETT was born at Greenwich, in 1820. His first volume of poems was published in 1847, and since that time his writings, which are natural in feeling and expression, have been held deservedly in estimation both in this country and America. He is an earnest philanthropist; and Miss Mitford, in speaking of his exertions in behalf of the inhabitants of his native town, says: "Greenwich can tell how much this young and ardent mind, aided by kindred spirits, has done in the way of baths and washhouses, and schools, and lectures, and libraries, and mechanics' institutes, to further the great cause of progress, mental and bodily."

"Tis nearly fifty years since then

Yet well I mind the day

When our first march we made with him
To where the Frenchmen lay;
Upon the heights of Roliça,

Laborde fought long and well;
We beat him; how we beat Junot
Vimeira's field can tell.

They lost-we won, and that was all;
Pshaw! blunderers crossed our way;
Sir Hugh-Sir Harry saved Junot,
And flung that work away.
But soon our General led us on,
Unchecked by such as these,
And then we chased the eagles back
Across the Pyrenees.

Behind the Douro, Soult lay-safe?

Why in his face 'twas forced;

"Ha! ha!" he laughed, and watched us come,

And while he laughed, we crossed;

We saw their backs; and that same year,

At Talavera, plain

We showed their Victor that we came

To see their backs again.

Retreat came next.

What?-did we fly?

No! On Busaco's height

We turned, and taught their Massena
We little thought of flight;

A month at Torres Vedras' lines
We let the Marshal lie,-

He chafed and fumed, and then, at last,
He learned what 'twas to fly.

They foiled us once at Badajos;

Good Lord! that work was warm!

It makes one white to think of now,
The night we tried to storm.

But its time came; in that cursed breach,
By Heaven! the French fought well,
But on through blood and fire we went;
In yells and shrieks it fell.

I swear it warms my blood again,
Although my hair is grey,

To think of how we beat Marmont
On Salamanca's day;

And 'twas a sight to see, my friends,
When our great captain, 'mid
The rescued city's tears and shouts,
Rode into freed Madrid.

Somehow, at Burgos we were checked;
At times the greatest are;
One failure he could well afford;
"Twas there I got this scar.

A winter more, and then for France
We marched; he knew it well,

And, rising in his stirrups, cried,

66

"To Portugal, farewell."

For France! for France! but hold, good sirs,

King Joseph stopped us here;

Well, red Vittoria swept our path,
And left the roadway clear.

And, long before November passed,

We rolled back Soult's advance;

We poured through St. Sebastian's breach, And trod the soil of France.

We

e won Toulouse, and, winning that,
We heard that all was won;

Seven weary years of war were gone;
Our work and his was done.

We little thought he yet would meet
A greater than he'd met;

We never dreamed he had to win
His sternest victory yet.

But so it was; a year passed by,
And, passing, proved it true;
And I was with him once again
At far-famed Waterloo.

And I-I heard his "At them, men!"
When the Old Guard seemed to yield;
I shared in that last charge that swept
The French from his last field.

And so they say that he was one,
Not made for love but fear-

A cold, stern man, who stood alone:
All this I smile to hear.

Ask those that fought through that great war,
Bled, conquered, by his side,

And who'll not name his name with love,
And speak of him with pride!

I name his name to honour it;
In glory let him rest;

More than all other things I prize
This medal at my breast.

Why, friends ? Because it tells that I
Some honour bore away,

With him whom, with a people's grief,
St. Paul's received that day.
Oh, well may England honour him!
Till all earth's days are done,

The world knows well the deeds he did-
The deeds of Wellington.

EXERCISE.-57. PARSING, ETC.

1. Write out the interjections and interrogative pronouns found in the poem.

2. Parse (with reasons) the following words in the first two verses :many a year, glory's run, friends, you, where, like, nor, yet, again, how, horse, I've, tell, be.

3. What does to in the third verse govern? Parse:-since, then.

4. Parse the following words in fourth and fifth verses-that was all, on, by such as these, come year, plain.

5. Analyse the eighth, ninth, and last verses.

6. What is meant by St. Paul's in the eighth line of the last verse? 7. Who was Wellington? Name as many as you can of the battles which he fought, and the countries in which they took place.