Hor. A countenance more In sorrow than in anger. Ham. Pale, or red? Hor. Nay, very pale. Ham. And fixed his eyes upon you? Hor. Most, constantly. Ham. I would I had been there! Hor. It would have much amazed you. Ham. Very like, very like ;-Staid it long? Hor. While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred. Ham. His beard was grizzled ?—no ? Hor. It was, as I have seen it in his life, A sable silvered. Ham. I will watch to-night; Ham. If it assume my noble father's person, LESSON CXC. Extract from the Essay on Criticism.-POPE. Since none can compass more than they intend; Once on a time, La Mancha's knight, they say, "What! leave the combat out?" exclaims the knight. Yes, or we must renounce the Stagirite. "Not so by heaven!" (he answers in a rage) "Knights, squires, and steeds must enter on the stage.” So văst a throng the stage can ne'er contain: 66 Then build anew, or act it in a plain." Thus critics of less judgment than caprice, Some to conceit alone their taste confine, What oft was thought, but ne'er so well expressed; For works may have more wit than does them good, Others for language all their care express, And value books, as women men,-for dress: Their praise is still, the style is excellent : The sense, they humbly take upon content. Words are like leaves; and where they most abound, Much fruit of sense beneath is rarely found. False eloquence, like the prismatic glăss, Expression is the dress of thought, and still Be not the first by whom the new are tried, But most by numbers judge a poet's song; Who haunt Parnassus but to please their ear, These, equal syllables alone require, With some unmeaning thing they call a thought, That, like a wounded snake, drags its slow length along. Where Denham's strength and Waller's sweetness join. 'Tis not enough no harshness gives offence; LESSON CXCI. Dialogue:-GIL BLAS* and the OLD ARCHBISHOP.-From LE SAGE. Arch. WELL, young man, what is your business with me? Gil Blas. I am the young man whom your nephew,† Don Fernando, was pleased to mention to you. Arch. O! you are the person then, of whom he spoke so handsomely. I engage you in my service, and consider you a valuable acquisition. From the specimens he showed me of your powers, you must be pretty well acquainted with the Greek and Latin authors. It is very evident your education lias not been neglected. I am satisfied with your hand writing, and still more with your understanding. I thank my nepl ew, Don Fernando, for having given me such an able your g man, whom I consider a rich acquisition. You trănscribe so well you must certainly understand grammar. Tell me, ingenuously, my friend, did you find nothing that shocked you in writing over the homily I sent you on trial? some neglect, perhaps, in style, or some improper term? Gil. B. O! Sir, I am not learned enough to make critical observations, and if I was I am persuaded the works of your grace would escape my censure. *In this name, the G has the sound of z in a-zure; the a is sounded as in bar, and the s is silent, it Pron. nev'-ew. Arch. Young man, you are disposed to flatter; but tell me, which parts of it did you think most strikingly beautiful. Gil B. If, where all was excellent, any parts were particularly so, I should say they were the personification of hope, and the description of a good man's death. Arch. I see you have a delicate knowledge of the truly beautiful. This is what I call having taste and sentiment. Gil Blas, henceforth give thyself no uneasiness about thy fortune, I will take care of that. I love thee, and as a proof of my affection, I will make thee my confidant: yes, my child, thou shalt be the repository of my most secret thoughts. Listen with attention to what I am going to say. My chief pleasure consists in preaching, and the Lord gives a blessing to my homilies; but I confess my weakness. The honor of being thought a perfect orator has charmed my imagination; my performances are thought equally nervous and delicate; but I would of all things avoid the fault of good authors, who write too long. Wherefore, my dear Gil Blas, one thing that I exact of thy zeal, is, whenever thou shalt perceive my pen smack of old age, and my genius flag, don't fail to advertise me of it, for I don't trust to my own judgment, which may be seduced by self-love. That observation must proceed from a disinterested understanding, and I make choice of thine, which I know is good, and am resolved to stand by thy decision. Gil B. Thank heaven, Sir, that time is far off. Besides, a genius like that of your grace, will preserve its vigor much better than any other, or, to speak more justly, will be always the same. I look upon you as another Cardinal Ximines, whose superior genius, instead of being weakened, seemed to acquire new strength by age. Arch. No flattery, friend, I know I am liable to sink all at once. People at my age begin to feel infirmities, and the infirmities of the body often affect the understanding. I repeat it to thee again, Gil Blas, as soon as thou shalt judge mine in the least impaired, be sure to give me notice. And be not afraid of speaking freely and sincerely, for I shall receive thy advice as a mark of thy affection. Gil B. Your grace may always depend upon my fidelity. Arch. I know thy sincerity, Gil Blas; and now tell me plainly, hast thou not heard the people make some remarks upon my late homilies? Gil B. Your homilies have always been admired, but it |