entered her chamber, when Jacometta fell upon her neck, sobbing aloud, and declaring that nothing but her providential presence could have saved her. She had muffled herself up, she said, folding the bed-clothes about her double and triple, and was several times on the point of calling up the whole household in her extremity, strict as was her mistress's charge upon her to be silent. The princess threw a shower of odoriferous waters over her, and took every care to restore her spirits and to preserve her from a hysterical fit, after such exertion and exhaustion. When she was rather more recovered, she dropped on her knees before her lady, and entreated and implored that, on the renewal of her love in its pristine ardor for the prince, she never would tell him in any moment of tender confidence that it was she who was in the bed.

The princess was slow to give the promise; for she was very conscientious. At last however she gave it, saying, “The prince my husband has taken a most awful oath never to renew the moments you apprehend. Our Lady strengthen me to bear my heavy affliction ! Her divine grace has cured my agonized breast of its inveterate jealousy."

She paused for some time; then, drying her tears, for she had shed several, she invited Jacometta to sit upon the bedside with her. Jacometta did so; and the princess, taking her hand, continued: "I hardly know what is passing in my mind, Jacometta! I found it difficult to bear an injury, though an empty and unreal one; let me try whether the efforts I make will enable me to endure a misfortune, on the faith of a woman, my dear Jacometta, no unreal nor empty one. Policastro is young: it would be unreasonable in me to desire he should lead the life of an anchorite, and perhaps not quite reasonable in him to expect the miracle of my blood congealing."

After this narration, Messer Francesco walked toward the high altar and made his genuflexion: the same did Messer Giovanni, and, in the act of it, slapped Ser Geoffreddo on the shoulder, telling him he might dispense with the ceremony, by reason of his inflexible boots and the buck-skin paling about his loins. Ser Geoffreddo did it nevertheless, and with His two friends then took him between them to the house of Messer Francesco, where dinner had been some time waiting.

equal devotion.

XV. BARROW AND NEWTON.

Newton. I come, sir, before you with fear and trembling, at the thoughts of my examination to-morrow. If the masters are too hard upon me, I shall never take my degree. How I passed as bachelor I cannot tell it must surely have been by especial indulgence.

Barrow. My dear Isaac! do not be dispirited. The less intelligent of the examiners will break their beaks against the gravel, in trying to cure the indigestions and heartburnings your plenteousness has given them; the more intelligent know your industry, your abilities, and your modesty they would favor you, if there were need of favor, but you, without compliment, surpass them all.

Newton. Oh sir! forbear, forbear! I fear I may have forgotten a good deal of what you taught me.

Barrow. I wonder at that. I am older than you by many years; I have many occupations and distractions; my memory is by nature less retentive and yet I have not forgotten any thing you taught me.

Newton. Too partial tutor, too benevolent friend! this unmerited praise confounds me. I cannot calculate the powers of my mind, otherwise than by calculating the time I require to compass any thing.

Barrow. Quickness is among the least of the mind's properties, and belongs to her in almost her lowest state: nay, it doth not abandon her when she is driven from her home, when she is wandering and insane. The mad often retain it; the liar has it, the cheat has it; we find it on the race-course and at the card-table: education does not give it, and reflection takes away from it.

Newton. I am slow; and there are many parts of ordinary learning yet unattained by me.

Barrow. I had an uncle, a sportsman, who said that the light dog beats over most ground, but the heavier finds the covey.

Newton. Oftentimes indeed have I submitted to you problems and possibilities

Barrow. And I have made you prove them.

Newton. You were contented with me; all may not be. Barrow. All will not be many would be more so if you could prove nothing. Men, like dogs and cats, fawn upon you while you leave them on the ground; if you lift them up they bite and scratch; and if you show them their own features in the glass, they would fly at your throat and tear your eyes out. This between ourselves; for we must not indulge in unfavorable views of mankind, since by doing it we make bad men believe that they are no worse than others, and we teach the good that they are good in vain. Philosophers have taken this side of the question to show their ingenuity; but sound philosophers are not ingenious. If philosophy can render us no better and no happier, away with it! There are things that can; and let us take them.

What dost thou sigh at, Isaac ?

Newton. At my ignorance, in some degree, of their writings. Barrow. At your ignorance of the ignorant? No man ever understood the things that are most admired in Plato and Aristoteles. In Plato there are incoherencies that fall to pieces at a touch; and Aristoteles lost himself in the involutions of his own web. What must we think of a philosopher, who promised to teach one pupil that which he withheld from the rest, although these were more familiar with him, and more instructed? And what must we think of a pupil, who was indignant that any others should partake in his sentiments and his knowledge? Yet such men have guided the scientific, such men have ruled the world.

Not such was Bacon.

Newton. Barrow. No, indeed. I told you, and I repeat it, I think the small volume of Essays in your hand contains more wisdom and more genius than we can find in all the philosophers of antiquity; with one exception, Cicero. On which I desired you to peruse it attentively, and to render me an account of it according to your opinion.

Newton. Sir, I have been induced to believe, but rather from the authority of my elders than from my own investigation, that Bacon is the more profound of the two, although not the more eloquent.

Barrow. If Bacon had written as easily and harmoniously as Cicero, he would have lost a portion of his weight with the generality of the learned, who are apt to conceive that in

easy movement there is a want of solidity and strength. We must confess that antiquity has darkened colleges and has distorted criticism. Very wise men, and very wary and inquisitive, walk over the earth, and are ignorant not only what minerals lie beneath, but what herbs and foliage they are treading. Some time afterward, and probably some distant time, a specimen of ore is extracted and exhibited; then another; lastly the bearing and diameter of the vein are observed and measured. Thus it is with writers who are to have a currency through ages. In the beginning they are confounded with most others; soon they fall into some secondary class; next, into one rather less obscure and humble ; by degrees they are liberated from the dross and lumber that hamper them; and, being once above the heads of contemporaries, rise slowly and waveringly, then regularly and erectly, then rapidly and majestically, till the vision strains and aches as it pursues them in their ethereal elevation.

Neither you nor I have wasted our time in the cultivation of poetry; but each of us hath frequently heard it discoursed on by those who have; and, if it serves for nothing else, it serves for an illustration. In my early days, he would have been scoffed out of countenance who should have compared the Lycidas, or the Allegro and Penseroso, of Mr. John Milton to the sterling poetry (as it was called) of Dr. John Donne : and yet much may be said in favor of the younger; and there are those, and not only undergraduates, but bachelors and masters, who venture even to prefer him openly. Who knows but we may see him extolled to the level of Lucan and Statius, strong as is the sense of the University against all sorts of supplanters! There are eyes that cannot see print when near them; there are men that cannot see merit.

Newton. The Latin secretary may be pardoned for many defects in his poetry, and even for many in his politics, in consideration of the reverence he bore toward the Apocalypse. I cannot think him a very irreligious man, although he does not attend divine service, we are told, so regularly as we could have wished.

Barrow. Let us talk no more about him. I opposed his principles: nevertheless he may have acted conscientiously; and even his principles are now coming again into fashion, and among the sons of those very cavaliers who would have

hanged him. Perhaps the most dangerous of his doctrines, the lawfulness of setting aside God's anointed for misconduct, may soon be the leading one in the front of our Constitution. Well! we are not met for politics: only it would be salutary to consider, if God's anointed will not be set aside, what must be done, how avoid the commission of a diabolical act. Newton. Could we rightly understand the Revelation, I question not but every difficulty of this nature would be solved.

Barrow. May be: let us trust in God.

Newton. We ́must have certain data for every thing upon which we reason: the greater part of reasoners begin without them.

Barrow. I wish the event may answer your expectations; that the Apocalypse, the Argonautic Expedition, and the Siege of Troy, form the trident which is to push away our difficulties in navigating through all the rocks and shoals of time, — all those of religion, and all those of history. Happen what may, I doubt nothing of your surpassing the foremost of your competitors, — of your very soon obtaining a name in the University little below Doctor Spry's of Caius, Doctor Brockhouse's of St. John's, Doctor Cockburn's of Emanuel, Doctor Turnbull's of Peter-house, or Doctor Cruikshank's of Bennet; nay, a name which, within a few years, may reach even to Leyden and Paris, as that of a most studious young man, distinguished alike for application and invention.

Newton. Although I could not in conscience disclaim the small merit there may be in application, since I owe it to the encouragement of my tutor, I surely have no right or title to invention.

Barrow. You have already given proofs of it beyond any nan I know. Your questions lead to great discoveries; whether it please God that you hereafter make them, or some one following you, is yet uncertain. We are silly enough to believe that the quality of invention, as applied to literature, lies in poetry and romance, mostly or altogether. I dare to speculate on discoveries in the subjects of your studies, every one far greater, every one far more wonderful, than all that lie within the range of fiction. In our days, the historian is the only inventor; and it is ludicrous to see how busily and lustily he beats about, with his string and muzzle upon him.