time he is said to have read all the Greek and Latin writers. With what limitations this universality is to be understood, who shall inform us? residing at the French court as ambassador from Christiana of Sweden. From Paris ne hasted into Italy, of which he had with particular dili gence studied the language and literature; and though he seems to have intended a very quick It might be supposed, that he who read so much should have done nothing else; but Mil-perambulation of the country, stayed two months ton found time to write the mask of "Comus," which was presented at Ludlow, then the residence of the Lord President of Wales, in 1634; and had the honour of being acted by the Earl of Bridgewater's sons and daughter. The fiction is derived from Homer's Circe;* but we never can refuse to any modern the liberty of borrowing from Homer: - quo ceu fonte perenni Vatum Pieriis ora rigantur aquis. His next production was "Lycidas," an elegy, written in 1637, on the death of Mr. King, the son of Sir John King, secretary for Ireland in the time of Elizabeth, James, and Charles. King was much a favourite at Cambridge, and many of the wits joined to do honour to his memory. Milton's acquaintance with the Italian writers may be discovered by a mixture of longer and shorter verses, according to the rules of Tuscan poetry, and his malignity to the church, by some lines which are interpreted as threatening its extermination. He is supposed about this time to have written his" Arcades;" for, while he lived at Horton, he used sometimes to steal from his studies a few days, which he spent at Harefield, the house of the Countess-dowager of Derby, where the "Arcades" made part of a dramatic entertainment. He began now to grow weary of the country, and had some purpose of taking chambers in the Inns of Court, when the death of his mother set him at liberty to travel, for which he obtained his father's consent, and Sir Henry Wotton's directions; with the celebrated precept of prudence, i vensieri stretti, ed il viso, sciolto; "thoughts close, and looks loose." In 1638 he left England, and went first to Paris; where, by the favour of Lord Scudamore, he had the opportunity of visiting Grotius, then * It has, nevertheless, its foundation in reality. The Earl of Bridgewater being President of Wales in the year 1534, had his residence at Ludlow Castle, in Shropshire, at which time Lord Brackly and Mr. Egerton, his sons, and Lady Alive Egerton, his daughter, passing through a place called the Haywood forest,or Haywood, in Herefordshire, were benighted, and the lady for a short time lost: this accident being related to their father, upon their arrival at his castle, Milton, at the request of his friend, Henry Lawes, who taught music in the family, wrote this mask. Lawes set it to music, and it was acted on Michaelmas night; the two brothers, the young lady, and Lawes himself, bearing each a part in the represen: tation. at Florence; where he found his way into the academies, and produced his compositions with such applause as appears to have exalted him in his own opinion, and confirmed him in the hope, that, " by labour and intense study, which," says he, "I take to be my portion in this life, joined with a strong propensity of nature," he might "leave something so written to aftertimes, as they should not willingly let it die." It appears in all his writings that he had the usual concomitant of great abilities, a lofty and steady confidence in himself, perhaps not without some contempt of others; for scarcely any man ever wrote so much, and praised so few. Of his praise he was very frugal; as he set its value high, and considered his mention of a name as a security against the waste of time, and a certain preservative from oblivion. At Florence he could not, indeed, complain that his met wanted distinction. Carlo Dati pre sented him with an encomiastic inscription, in the tumid lapidary style; and Francini wrote him an ode, of which the first stanza is only empty noise; the rest are perhaps too diffuse on common topics: but the last is natural and and beautiful. From Florence he went to Sienna, and from Sienna to Rome, where he was again received with kindness by the learned and the great. Holstenius, the keeper of the Vatican Library, who had resided three years at Oxford, introduced him to Cardinal Barberini: and he, at a musical entertainment, waited for him at the door, and led him by the hand into the assembly. Here Selvaggi praised him in a distich, and Salsilli in a tetrastic; neither of them of much value. The Italians were gainers by this literary commerce; for the encomiums with which Milton repaid Salsilli, though not secure against a stern grammarian, turn the balance indisputably in Milton's favour. Of these Italian testimonies, poor as they are, he was proud enough to publish them before his poems; though he says, he cannot be suspected but to have known that they were said non tam de se, quam supra se. At Rome, as at Florence, he stayed only two months; a time indeed sufficient, if he desired only to ramble with an explainer of its antiquities, or to view palaces and count pictures; but certainly too short for the contemplation of learn ing, policy, or manners. From Rome he passed on to Naples, in com The Lady Alice Egerton became afterwards the wife of the Earl of Carbury, who at his seat called Golden-pany of a hermit, a companion from whom little grove, in Caermarthenshire, harboured Dr. Jeremy Taylor in the time of the usurpation. Among the Doctor's sermons is one on her death, in which her character is finely portrayed. Her sister, Lady Mary, was given in marriage to Lord Herbert, of Cherbury. Notwithstanding Dr. Johnson's assertion, that the fic tion is derived from Homer's Circe, it may be conjectured, that it was rather taken from the Comus of Erycius Puteanus, in which, under the fiction of a dream, the character of Comus and his attendants is delineated, and the delights of sensualists exposed and reprobated. This little tract was published at Louvain in 1611, and afterwards at Oxford in 1634, the very year in which Milton's "Comus" was written.-H. Milton evidently was indebted to the "Old Wives Tale" of George Peele for the plan of "Comus."-R. could be expected; yet to him Milton owed his introduction to Manso, Marquis of Villa, who had been before the patron of Tasso. Manso was enough delighted with his accomplishments to honour him with a sorry distich, in which he commends him for every thing but his religion: and Milton, in return, addressed him in a Latin poem, which must have raised a high opinion of English elegance and literature. His purpose was now to have visited Sicily and Greece; but, hearing of the differences be tween the King and Parliament, he thought it proper to hasten home, rather than pass his life in foreign amusements while his countrymen | excuse an act which no wise man will consider were contending for their rights. He therefore as in itself disgraceful. His father was alive; came back to Rome, though the merchants his allowance was not ample; and he supplied informed him of plots laid against him by the its deficiences by an honest and useful employJesuits, for the liberty of his conversations on ment. religion. He had sense enough to judge that there was no danger, and therefore kept on his way, and acted as before, neither obtruding nor shunning controversy. He had perhaps given some offence by visiting Galileo, then a prisoner in the Inquisition for philosophical heresy; and at Naples he was told by Manso, that, by his declarations on religious questions, he had excluded himself from some distinctions which he should otherwise have paid him. But such conduct, though it did not please, was yet sufficiently safe; and Milton stayed two months more at Rome, and went on to Florence without molestation. From Florence he visited Lucca. He afterwards went to Venice; and, having sent away a collection of music and other books, travelled to Geneva, which he probably considered as the metropolis of orthodoxy. Here he reposed as in a congenial element, and became acquainted with John Diodati and Frederick Spanheim, two learned professors of divinity. From Geneva, he passed through France, and came home, after an absence of a year and three months. At his return he heard of the death of his friend Charles Diodati; a man whom it is reasonable to suppose of great merit, since he was thought by Milton worthy of a poem, entitled "Epitaphium Damonis," written with the common but childish imitation of pastoral life. He now hired a lodging at the house of one Russel, a tailor in St. Bride's church-yard, and undertook the education of John and Edward Philips, his sister's sons. Finding his rooms too little, he took a house and garden in Aldersgatestreet, which was not then so much out of the world as it is now; and chose his dwelling at the upper end of a passage, that he might avoid the noise of the street. Here he received more boys to be boarded and instructed. Let not our veneration for Milton forbid us to look with some degree of merriment on great promises and small performance, on the man who hastens home, because his countrymen are contending for their liberty, and, when he reaches the scene of action, vapours away his patriotism in a private boarding-school. This is the period of his life from which all his biographers seem inclined to shrink. They are unwilling that Milton should be degraded to a school-master; but, since it cannot be denied that he taught boys, one finds out that he taught for nothing, and another that his motive was only zeal for the propagation of learning and virtue; and all tell what they do not know to be true, only to This is inaccurately expressed: Philips, and Dr. Newton after him, say a garden-house, i. e. a house situated in a garden, and of which there were, especially in the north suburbs of London, very many, if not few else. The term is technical, and frequently occurs in the Athen. and Fast. Oxon. The meaning thereof may be collected from the article, Thomas Farnaby, the fa mous schoolmaster, of whom the author says, that he taught in Goldsmith's-rents, in Cripplegate parish,behind Redcross-street, where were large gardens and handsome houses. Milton's house in Jewin-street was also a garden-house, as were indeed most of his dwellings after bis settlement in London.-H. It is told that in the art of education he performed wonders; and a formidable list is given of the authors, Greek and Latin, that were read in Aldersgate-street by youth between ten and fifteen or sixteen years of age. Those who tell or receive these stories should consider, that nobody can be taught faster than he can learn. The speed of the horseman must be limited by the power of the horse. Every man that has ever undertaken to instruct others, can tell what slow advances he has been able to make, and how much patience it requires to recall vagrant inattention, to stimulate sluggish indifference, and to rectify absurd misapprehension. The purpose of Milton, as it seems, was to teach something more solid than the common literature of schools, by reading those authors that treat of physical subjects; such as the Georgic and astronomical treatises of the ancients. This was scheme of improvement which seems to have busied many literature projectors of that age. Cowley, who had more means than Milton of knowing what was wanting to the embellishments of life, formed the same plan of education in his imaginary college. But the truth is, that the knowledge of external nature, and the sciences which that knowledge requires or includes, are not the great or the frequent business of the human mind. Whether we provide for action or conversation, whether we wish to be useful or pleasing, the first requisite is the religious and moral knowledge of right and wrong; the next is an acquaintance with the history of mankind, and with those examples which may be said to embody truth, and prove by events the reasonableness of opinions. Prudence and justice are virtues and excellencies of all times and of all places; we are perpetually moralists, but we are geometricians only by chance. Our intercourse with intellectual nature is necessary; our speculations upon matter are voluntary, and at leisure. Physiological learning is of such rare emergence, that one may know another half his life, without being able to estimate his skill in hydrostatics or astronomy; but his moral and prudential character immediately appears. Those authors, therefore, are to be read at schools that supply most axioms of prudence, most principles of moral truth, and most materials for conversation; and these purposes are best served by poets, orators, and historians. Let me not be censured for this digression as pedantic or paradoxical; for, if I have Milton against me, I have Socrates on my side. It was his labour to turn philosophy from the study of nature to speculations upon life; but the innovators whom I oppose are turning off attention from life to nature. They seem to think that we are placed here to watch the growth of plants or the motions of the stars: Socrates was rather of opinion, that what we had to learn was, how to do good and avoid evil. Οττι τοι ἐν μέγαροισι κακόντ' αγαθόντε τέτυκται. Of institutions we may judge by their effects From this wonder-working academy, I do not know that there ever proceeded any man very eminent for knowledge: its only genuine pro- | antagonists, who affirms that he was "vomited duct, I believe, is a small history of poetry writ-out of the University," he answers in general ten in Latin by his nephew Philips, of which terms. "The fellows of the college wherein I perhaps none of my readers has ever heard.* spent soine years, at my parting, after I had taken two degrees, as the manner is, signified many times how much better it would content then that I should stay.-As for the common approbation or dislike of that place as now it is, that That in his school, as in every thing else which he undertook, he laboured with great diligence, there is no reason for doubting. One part of his method deserves general imitation. He was careful to instruct his scholars in religion. Ev-I should esteem or disesteem myself the more ery Sunday was spent upon theology; of which he dictated a short system, gathered from the writers that were then fashionable in the Dutch universities. He set his pupils an example of hard study and spare diet: only now and then he allowed himself to pass a day of festivity and indulgence with some gay gentlemen of Gray's Inn. He now began to engage in the controversies of the times, and lent his breath to blow the flames of contention. In 1641 he published a Treatise of Reformation, in two books, against the established church; being willing to help the puritans, who were, he says, "inferior to the prelates in learning." for that, too simple is the answerer, if he think to obtain with me. Of small practice were the physician who could not judge, by what she and her sister have of long time vomited, that the worser stuff she strongly keeps in her stomach, but the better she is ever kecking at, and is queasy; she vomits now out of sickness; but before it will be well with her, she must vomit by strong physic. The University, in the time of her better health, and my younger judgment, I never greatly admired, but now much less." This is surely the language of a man who thinks that he has been injured. He proceeds to describe the course of his conduct, and the train of his thoughts; and, because he has been suspected of incontinence, gives an account of his own purity: "that if I be justly charged," says he, "with this crime, it may come upon me with tenfold shame." Hall, bishop of Norwich, had published an Humble Remonstrance, in defence of episcopacy; to which, in 1641, five ministers,† of whose names the first letters made the celebrated word Smectymnuus, gave their Answer. Of this Answer a Confutation was attempted by the learned Usher; and to the Confutation Milton published a reply, entitled, "Of Prelatical Episcopacy, and whether it may be deduced from the Apostolical Times, by virtue of those Testimo-hand, some squire of the body to his prelate, one nies which are alleged to that purpose in some late Treatises, one whereof goes under the Name of James, Lord Bishop of Armagh." I have transcribed this title to show, by his contemptuous mention of Usher, that he had now adopted the puritanical savageness of manners. His next work was, "The Reason of Church Government urged against Prelacy, by Mr. John Milton, 1642." In this book he discovers, not with ostentatious exultation, but with calm confidence, his high opinion of his own powers; and promises to undertake something, he yet knows not what, that may be of use and honour to his country. "This," says he, “is not to be obtained but by devout prayer to that eternal Spirit that can enrich with all utterance and knowledge, and sends out his seraphim,with the hallowed fire of his altar, to touch and purify the lips of whom he please. To this must be added, industrious and select reading, steady observation, and insight into all seemly and generous arts and affairs; till which in some measure be compassed, I refuse not to sustain this expectation." From a promise like this, at once fervid, pious, and rational, might be expected the "Paradise Lost." He published the same year two more pamphlets, upon the same question. To one of his The style of his piece is rough, and such perhaps was that of his antagonist. This roughness he justifies by great examples in a long digression. Sometimes he tries to be humorous: "Lest I should take him for some chaplain in who serves not at the altar only, but at the courtcupboard, he will bestow on us a pretty model of himself; and sets me out half a dozen phthisical mottoes, wherever he had them, hopping short in the measure of convulsion fits; in which labour the agony of his wit having escaped narrowly, instead of well-sized periods, he greets us with a quantity of thumbring poesies. And thus ends this section, or rather dissection, of himself." Such is the controversial merriment of Milton; his gloomy seriousness is yet more offensive. Such is his malignity, tnat hell grows darker at his frown. His father, after Reading was taken by Essex, came to reside in his house; and his school inoreased. At Whitsuntide, in his thirty-fifth year, he married Mary, the daughter of Mr. Powell, a justice of the peace in Oxfordshire. He brought her to town with him, and expected all the advantages of a conjugal life. The lady, however, seems not much to have delighted in the pleasures of spare diet and hard study; for, as Philips relates, "having for a month led a philosophic life, after having been used at home to a great house, and much company and joviality, her friends, possibly by her own desire, made earnest suit to have her company the remaining part of the summer; which was granted upon a promise of her return at Michaelmas." Milton was too busy to much miss his wife; he pursued his studies; and now and then visited the Lady Margaret Leigh, whom he has menAt last Michaeltioned in one of his sonnets. mas arrived; but the lady had no inclination to return to the sullen gloom of her husband's habitation, and therefore very willingly forgot het promise. He sent her a letter, but had no answer: he sent more with the same success. It could be alleged that letters miscarry; he there- | it, have produced a problem in the science of fore despatched a messenger, being by this time government, which human understanding seems too angry to go himself. His messenger was hitherto unable to solve. If nothing may be sent back with some contempt. The family of the Lady were cavaliers. In a man, whose opinion of his own merit was like Milton's, less provocation than this might have raised violent resentment. Milton soon determined to repudiate her for disobedience; and, being one of those who could easily find arguments to justify inclination, published (in 1644) "The Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce;" which was followed by "The Judgment of Martin Bucer, concerning Divorce;" and the next year, his Tetrachordon, "Expositions upon the four chief Places of Scripture which treat of Marriage." published but what civil authority shall have previously approved, power must always be the standard of truth; if every dreamer of innova tions may propagate his projects, there can be no settlement; if every murmurer at government may diffuse discontent, there can be no peace; and if every skeptic in theology may teach his follies, there can be no religion. The remedy against these evils is to punish the authors; for it is yet allowed that every society may punish, though not prevent the publication of opinions which that society shall think pernicious; but this punishment, though it may crush the author, promotes the book; and it seems not more reaThis innovation was opposed, as might be ex-sonable to leave the right of printing unrestrained pected, by the clergy, who, then holding their famous assembly at Westminster, procured that the author should be called before the Lords; "but that house," says Wood, "whether approving the doctrine, or not favouring his accusers, did soon dismiss him." There seems not to have been much written against him, nor any thing by any writer of eminence. The antagonist that appeared is styled by him, A serving man turned solicitor. Howel, in his Letters, mentions the new doctrine with contempt; and it was, I suppose, thought more worthy of derision than of confutation. He complains of this neglect in two sonnets, of which the first is contemptible, and the second not excellent. From this time it is observed that he became an enemy to the Presbyterians, whom he had favoured before. He that changes his party by his humour, is not more virtuous than he that changes it by his interest; he loves himself rather than truth. His wife and her relations now found that Milton was not an unresisting sufferer of injuries; and perceiving that he had begun to put his doctrine in practice, by courting a young woman of great accomplishments, the daughter of one Doctor Davis, who was however not ready to comply, they resolved to endeavour a reunion. He went sometimes to the house of one Blackborough, his relation, in the lane of St. Martin's le-Grand, and at one of his usual visits was surprised to see his wife come from another room, and implore forgiveness on her knees. He resisted her entreaties for a while "but partly," says Philips, "his own generous nature, more inclinable to reconciliation than to perseverance in anger or revenge, and partly the strong intercession of friends on both sides, soon brought him to an act of oblivion and a firm league of peace." It were injurious to omit, that Milton afterwards received her father and her brothers in his own house, when they were distressed, with other royalists. He published about the same time his Areopagitica, a Speech of Mr. John Milton for the Liberty of unlicensed Printing. The danger of such unbounded liberty, and the danger of bounding It was animadverted upon, but without any mention of Milton's name, by Bishop Hall, in his Cases of Conscience Decaie, 4, Case 2.-J. B. He terms the author of it a shallow brain'd puppy and thus refers to it in his index, "Of a noddy who wrote a book about winning."-J. B. because writers may be afterwards censured, than it would be to sleep with doors unbolted because by our laws we can hang a thief. But, whatever were his engagements, civil or domestic, poetry was never long out of his thoughts. About this time, (1645,) a collection of his Latin and English poems appeared, in which the "Allegro" and "Penseroso," with some others, were first published. He had taken a large house in Barbican for the reception of scholars; but the numerous relations of his wife, to whom he generously granted refuge for a while, occupied his rooms. In time, however, they went away: "and the house again," says Philips, "now looked like a house of the muses only, though the accession of scholars was not great. Possibly his having proceeded so far in the education of youth may have been the occasion of his adversaries calling him pedagogue and schoolmaster; whereas it is well known he never set up for a public school, to teach all the young fry of a parish; but only was willing to impart his learning and knowledge to his relations, and the sons of gentlemen who were his intimate friends, and that neither his writings nor his way of teaching ever savoured in the least of pedantry." Thus laboriously does his nephew extenuate what cannot be denied, and what might be confessed without disgrace. Milton was not a man who could become mean by a mean employment. This, however, his warmest friends seem not to have found: they therefore shift and palliate. He did not sell literature to all comers at an open shop; he was a chambermilliner, and measured his commodities only to his friends. Philips, evidently impatient of viewing him in this state of degradation, tells us that it was not long continued: and, to raise his character again, has a mind to invest him with military splendour: "He is much mistaken," he says, "if there was not about this time a design of making him an adjutant-general in Sir William Waller's army. But the new-modelling of the army proved an obstruction to the design." An event cannot be set at a much greater distance than by having been only designed about some time, if a man be not much mistaken. Milton shall be a pedagogue no longer: for, if Philips be not much mistaken, somebody at some time designed him for a soldier. About the time that the army was new-mo delled, (1645,) he removed to a smaller house in Holborn, which opened backward into Lincoln's Inn Fields. He is not known to have published any thing afterward till the King's death, when, finding his murderers condemned by the presbyterians, he wrote a treatise to justify it, and to compose the minds of the people. whose doctrine he considers as servile and unmanly, to the stream of Salmasius, which, whoever entered, left half his virility behind him. Salnasius was a Frenchman, and was unhappily married to a scold. Tu es Gallus, says Mil ton, et, ut aiunt, nimium gallinaceus. But his supreme pleasure is to tax his adversary, so reHe made some "Remarks on the Articles of nowned for criticisms, with vicious Latin. He Peace between Ormond and the Irish Rebels." opens his book with telling that he has used perWhile he contented himself to write, he persona, which according to Milton, signfies only haps did only what his conscience dictated; a mask, in a sense not known to the Romans, and if he did not very vigilantly watch the in- by applying it as we apply person. But as Nefluence of his own passions, and the gradual mesis is always on the watch, it is memorable prevalence of opinions, first willingly admitted, that he has enforced the charge of a solecism and then habitually indulged; if objections, by by an expression in itself grossly solecistical, being overlooked, were forgotten, and desire su- when for one of those supposed blunders, he perinduced conviction; he yet shared only the says, as Ker, and I think some one before him, common weakness of mankind, and might be has remarked, propino te grammalistis tuis vano less sincere than his opponents. But as fac- puladum.* From vapulo, which has a passive tion seldom leaves a man honest, however it sense, vapulandus can never be derived. No might find him, Milton is suspected of having man forgets his original trade; the rights of nainterpolated the book called Icon Basilike," tions, and of kings, sink into questions of gramwhich the council of state, to whom he was mar, if grammarians discuss them. now made Latin secretary, employed him to Milton, when he undertook this answer, was censure, by inserting a prayer taken from Sid-weak of body and dim of sight; but his wili ney's "Arcadia," and imputing it to the King; whom he charges, in his "Iconoclastes," with the use of this prayer, as with a heavy crime, in the indecent language with which prosperity had imboldened the advocates for rebellion to insult all that is venerable or great; "Who would have imagined so little fear in him of the true all-seeing Deity-as, immediately before his death, to pop into the hands of the grave bishop that attended him, as a special relic of his saintly exercises, a prayer stolen word for word from the mouth of a heathen woman praying to a heathen god?" was forward, and what was wanting of health was supplied by zeal. He was rewarded with a thousand pounds, and his book was much read; for paradox, recommended by spirit and elegance, easily gains attention; and he, who told every man that he was equal to his King, could hardly want an audience. That the performance of Salmasius was not dispersed with equal rapidity, or read with equal eagerness, is very credible. He taught only the stale doctrine of authority, and the unpleasing duty of submission, and he had been so long not only the monarch but the tyrant of literature, that almost all mankind were delighted to find him defied and insulted by a new name, not yet considered as any one's rival. If Christina, as is said, commended the Defence of the People, her purpose must be to torment Salmasius, who was then at court; for neither her civil station, nor her natural character, could dispose her to favour the doctrine, who was by birth a queen and by temper despotic. he was dismissed, not with any mark of contempt, but with a train of attendants scarcely less than regal. The papers which the King gave to Dr. Juxon on the scaffold the regicides took away, so that they were at least the publishers of this prayer; and Dr. Birch, who had examined the question with great care, was inclined to think them the forgers. The use of it by adaptation was innocent; and they who could so noisily censure it, with a little extension of their malice, could contrive what they wanted to accuse. King Charles the Second, being now sheltered That Salmasius was, from the appearance of in Holland, employed Salmasius, professor of Milton's book, treated with neglect, there is not polite learning at Leyden, to write a defence of much proof; but to a man so long accustomed his father and of monarchy; and, to excite his to admiration a little praise of his antagonist industry, gave him, as was reported, a hundred would be sufficiently offensive, and might inJacobuses. Salmasius was a man of skill incline him to leave Sweden, from which however languages, knowledge of antiquity, and sagacity of emendatory criticism, almost exceeding all hope of human attainment; and having, by excessive praises, been confirmed in great conHe prepared a reply, which, left as it was imfidence of himself, thought he probable had not perfect, was published by his son in the year of much considered the principles of society, or the Restoration. In the beginning, being prothe rights of government, undertook the em-bably most in pain for his Latinity, he endeaployment without distrust of his own quali-vours to defend his use of the word persona; but, fications; and, as his expedition in writing was if I remember right, he misses a better authority wonderful, in 1649 published “Defensio Regis." than any that he has found, that of Juvenal in To this Milton was required to write a suffi- his fourth satire: cient answer; which he performed (1651) in such a manner, that Hobbes declared himself unable to decide whose language was best, or whose arguments were worst. In my opinion, Milton's perious are smoother, neater, and more pointed; but he delights himself with teasing his adversary as much as with confuting him. He makes a foolish allusion of Salmasius -Quid agas, cum dira et fædior omni *The work here referred to, is "Selectarum de lingua Latina observationem libri duo. Ductu et curâ Joannis Ker. 1719." Ker observes, that vapulandum pinguis solecismus ;" and quotes Varassor and Crimius.-J. B. |