behold a company of the heavenly host came out to meet them; to whom it was said by the other two Shining Ones: These are the men that have loved our Lord when they were in the world, and that have left all for his holy name; and he hath sent us to fetch them, and we have brought them thus far on their desired journey, that they may go in and look their Redeemer in the face with joy. Then the Heavenly Host gave a great shout, saying: 'Blessed are they that are called to the marriage-supper of the Lamb.' There came also out at this time to meet them several of the King's trumpeters, cloathed in white and shining raiment, who with melodious noises and loud made even the heavens to echo with their sound. These trumpeters saluted Christian and his fellow with ten thousand welcomes from the world; and this they did with shouting and sound of trumpet.

This done, they compassed them round about on every side; some went before, some behind, and some on the right hand, some on the left (as 'twere to guard them through the upper regions) continually sounding as they went, with melodious noise, in notes on high; so that the very sight was to them that could behold it as if heaven itself was come down to meet them. Thus, therefore, they walked on together; and as they walked, ever and anon these trumpeters, even with joyful sound, would by mixing their music with looks and gestures, still signify to Christian and his brother how welcome they were into their company, and with what gladness they came to meet them and now were these two men, as 'twere, in heaven before they came at it, being swallowed up with the sight of angels, and with hearing of their melodious notes. Here also they had the city itself in view, and they thought they heard all the bells therein to ring, to welcome them thereto; but above all, the warm and joyful thoughts that they had about their own dwelling there with such company, and that for ever and ever. Oh! by what tongue or pen can their glorious joy be expressed? Thus they came up to the gate.

Now, when they were come up to the gate, there was written over it in letters of gold: 'Blessed are they that do his commandments, that they may have a right to the Tree of Life, and may enter in through the gates into the city.'

Then I saw in my dream that the shining men bid them call at the gate; the which when they did, some from above looked over the gate, to wit Enoch, Moses, Elijah, &c.; to whom it was said: These pilgrims are come from the City of Destruction, for the love that they bear to the King of this place; and then the pilgrims gave in unto them each man his certificate, which they had received in the beginning: those therefore were carried in to the King, who, when he had read them, said: Where are the men? To whom it was answered: They are standing without the gate. The King then commanded to open the gate, 'That the righteous nation,' said he, that keepeth truth, may enter in.'

Now I saw in my dream that these two men went in at the gate; and lo, as they entered, they were transfigured, and they had raiment put on that shone like gold. There was also that met them with harps and crowns, and gave to them; the harps to praise withal, and the crowns in token of honour. Then I heard in my dream that all the bells in the city rang again for joy, and that it was said unto them: 'Enter ye into the

joy of your Lord.' I also heard the men themselves. that they sang with a loud voice, saying: 'Blessing, honour, and glory, and power be to Him that sitteth upon the throne, and to the Lamb, for ever and ever.'

Now, just as the gates were opened to let in the men, I looked in after them, and behold the city shone like the sun; the streets also were paved with gold, and in them walked many men with crowns on their heads, palms in their hands, and golden harps to sing praises withal.

Seven copies of the first edition of the first part of the Pilgrim's Progress are in existence-a perfect copy was sold in 1901 for £1475; there is also a complete series of editions down to the thirtyfourth, with the exception of the seventeenth. Since the thirtyfourth no record has been kept, the later editions being counties. An incomplete folio edition of Bunyan's general works was published in one volume in 1692, and complete editions in two volumes folio were issued in 1736-37 and in 1767. A thick folio of 1:12 pages, double columns, was also published in Edinburgh in 1771, and other collected editions have been issued in England, Scotlan and America. A statue of Bunyan by Boehm was unveiled in Bedford in 1874. See the Lives of him by Southey (1830), Offr (1862), Froude (1880), Venables (1888), and Dr John Brown of Bedford (the fullest and completest; 1885, new ed. 1888).

Robert Boyle (1627-91), the most distinguished of the 'experimental philosophers' who in England hastened to possess the new worlds of which Bacon had glimpses, was a son of the first ('great') Earl of Cork, at whose mansion of Lismore he was born. After studying at Eton and Geneva, he travelled through Italy, returning to England in 1644; and henceforward to the end of his life he devoted himself to researches and experi ments in chemistry and physics. From 1644 till 1650 he lived in the manor of Stalbridge in Dorset, now his by his father's death. In 1654 he settled at Oxford. From 1645 weekly meetings were held at London and at Oxford for the cultivation of what was then termed 'the new philosophy'-in Oxford first at the lodgings of Dr Wilkins, and subsequently, for the most part, at Boyle's. These scientific students-Wilkins, Boyle, Seth Ward. Wren, Wallis, Petty-with others who afterwards joined them, were incorporated by Charles II. in 1662 as the Royal Society. Boyle, in London after 1668, was one of its most active members, and many of his treatises originally appeared in the Society's Transactions. He died in 1691, and his works are voluminous enough to fill five folo volumes. They consist chiefly of accounts of his experimental researches in chemistry and natural philosophy, especially on the mechanical and chemical properties of air, on freezing, boiling, refraction, specific gravity, and electricity. By means of the air-pump, the construction of which he materially improved, he made valuable discoveries. In 1662 he published experimental proof of the proportional relation between elasticity and pressure, properly called Boyle's Law (sometimes called Mariotte's, after the experimenter who in 1676 confirmed Boyle's results). His researches and results in many departments mark the final defeat of medievalism and the triumph of the modern spirit-though he clung to the belief in

the transmutation of gold. A devout and amiable man, he published much in defence of Christianity, and on the importance of studying the Divine attributes as displayed in the material world. He devoted much time and money to missionary enterprises, and made provision for the delivery of eight lectures yearly in London 'for proving the Christian religion against notorious infidels, namely, atheists, theists, pagans, Jews, and Mohammedans; not descending lower to any controversies that are among Christians themselves.' In 1660 he was solicited by Lord Clarendon to take orders, but modestly professed himself unequal to the high duties of the pastoral office; he thought he had even a better chance to advance religion by his writings as a layman. He spent large sums in the translation and diffusion of the Scriptures, in publishing useful books (such as Burnet's History of the Reformation), and in advancing science. In spite of feeble health and positive illness, he continued research and writing till shortly before his death at the end of 1691. He had been elected president of the Royal Society (an honour he declined), governor of the corporation for the spread of the gospel in New England, and director of the East India Company (whose charter he helped to obtain).

Besides treatises such as The Origin of Forms and Qualities, Experiments touching Colours, Hydrostatical Paradoxes, disquisitions on gems, the temperature of the blood, the usefulness of experimental philosophy, Observations touching Cold, &c., he published books on the style of the Scriptures, against swearing, on the reconcilableness of reason and religion, on final causes, The Christian Virtuoso [i.e. experimentalist], and A Treatise on Seraphic Love; not to speak of the famous Occasional Reflections on Several Subjects (1665), mostly written in early life, which Butler caricatured and Swift ridiculed in his Meditations on a Broom-stick. Even without this association, the Reflections inevitably provoke a smilelessons on the goodness of the Creator, the duty of humility, the uncertainty of life, &c., drawn from such 'occasions' as ‘his manner of giving meat to his dog,' on sitting at ease in a coach that went very fast,' 'upon the taking of physic,' 'upon one's drinking water out of the brims of his hat,' and 'on killing a crow (out of a window) in a hog's trough, and immediately tracing the ensuing reflection with. a pen made of one of his quills,' solemnly set forth in handsome type on great folio pages. Fifteen meditations turn on the accidents of an ague,' the first Upon the first invasion of the disease 'describing how the 'chilness' surprised him as he was sitting quietly in his chamber, delightfully entertained by an outlandish virtuoso with an account of the several attempts that are either made or designed in foreign parts to produce curiosities and improve knowledge.' The last of the series appropriately arises out of his 'reviewing and tacking together the several bills piled up in the apothecary's

shop.' It will not be unfair to this voluminous author to choose our specimens not from the more ponderous works-written mostly in a plain and clear yet prolix style-but from the Occasional Reflections. The first is a fair average one; the second, more whimsical, contains a number of physiological remarks here omitted as now quite unsuited for general reading. But it has the reputed merit of having by its concluding paragraphs given Swift the suggestion for Gulliver's Travels. At least it is entitled to the credit of having fairly formulated the ingenious though simple plan for bringing veiled but effective satire to bear on home foibles by the ingenuous remarks of intelligent but imaginary foreigners; the device that was carried out in the next century by Dufresny, by Montesquieu, and by Goldsmith in his Citizen of the World; as also since by Morier in Hajji Baba in England and Martin Toutrond, by Mr Punch from time to time in very various guises, and by many others.

Upon the Sight of Roses and Tulips growing near one another.

It is so uncommon a thing to see tulips last till roses come to be blown, that the seeing them in this garden grow together, as it deserves my notice, so methinks it should suggest to me some reflection or other on it. And perhaps it may not be an improper one to compare the difference betwixt these two kinds of flowers to the disparity which I have often observed betwixt the fates of those young ladies that are only very handsome, and those that have a less degree of beauty, recompensed by the accession of wit, discretion, and virtue: for tulips, whilst they are fresh, do indeed by the lustre and vividness of their colours more delight the eye than roses; but then they do not alone quickly fade, but as soon as they have lost that freshness and gaudiness that solely endeared them, they degenerate into things not only undesirable but distasteful; whereas roses, besides the moderate beauty they disclose to the eye (which is sufficient to please, though not to charm) do not only keep their colour longer than tulips, but when that decays, retain a perfumed odour, and divers useful qualities and virtues that survive the spring and recommend them all the year. Thus those unadvised young ladies, that because nature has given them beauty enough despise all other qualities, and even that regular diet which is ordinarily requisite to make beauty itself lasting, not only are wont to decay betimes, but as soon as they have lost that youthful freshness that alone endeared them, quickly pass from being objects of wonder and love, to be so of pity, if not of scorn; whereas those that were as solicitous to enrich their minds as to adorn their faces, may not only with mediocrity of beauty be very desirable whilst that lasts, but notwithstanding the recess of that and youth, may by the fragrancy of their reputation and those virtues and ornaments of the mind that time does but improve, be always sufficiently endeared to those that have merit enough to discern and value such excellences, and whose esteem and friendship is alone worth their being concerned for. In a word, they prove the happiest as well as they are the wisest ladies, that, whilst they

possess the desirable qualities that youth is wont to give, neglect not the acquist [acquisition] of those that age cannot take away.

Upon the Eating of Oysters. Eugenius. Whilst every body else is commending these oysters, either with his tongue or with his teeth, so that one of the company sticks not to say that they are as much worth as if they contained each of them a pearl, you only seemed as unconcerned a spectator, as if you thought their proper use, like that of flowers, were rather to be looked on than to be eaten.

Lindamor. I confess, Eugenius, that I found my self more inclinable to reflect on what you are doing, than to keep you company in it; and whilst I saw such persons so gustfully swallow these extolled fishes, the sight led me to take more notice than perhaps you have done of the strange power of education and

custom.

Eug. And what, I pray you, has custom to do with oysters ?

Lind. You will soon know that, if I tell you, that I was considering on this occasion how forward we are to think other nations absurd or barbarous for such practices, that either the same or little better may be found unscrupled at among our selves; and I acknowledge it to be one of the chief advantages I account my self to have obtained by my travels, that as I do not easily admire, so I am not forward to deride, the practice of any people for being new, and am not apt to think their customs must be therefore worse than ours, because they widely differ from them.

I could give you store of instances to justify this impartiality; but because the circumstances of eating and drinking are those which make men with the greatest confidence term other nations brutish and barbarous, I will confine my self to some examples of that nature.

And

We impute it for a barbarous custom to many nations of the Indians, that like beasts they eat raw flesh. pray how much is that worse than our eating raw fish, as we do in eating these oysters? Nor is this a practice of the rude vulgar only, but of the politest and nicest persons among us, such as physicians, divines, and even ladies. And our way of eating seems much more barbarous than theirs, since they are wont to kill before they eat, but we scruple not to devour oysters alive, and kill them not with our hands or teeth, but with our stomachs, where (for aught we know) they begin to be digested before they make an end of dying. Nay, sometimes when we dip them in vinegar, we may, for sauce to one bit, devour alive a shoal of little animals, which, whether they be fishes or worms, I am not so sure as I am that I have by the help of convenient glasses seen great

numbers of them swimming up and down in less than a saucer full of vinegar.

We detest and despise some other nations for feeding upon caterpillars, grasshoppers, and other insects; and others for feeding upon carrion and stinking food.

And do not many of us do as bad, when we not only eat but extol rotten cheese, whose livid colour sufficiently betrays its putrefaction, and whose odious smell offends most men's noses and turns some men's stomachs? Nay, when this cheese is grown to that high degree of rottenness that our critical palates like it best in, we then devour whole hundreds of mites, which are really crawling insects, bred out of putrefaction, and these too are so numerous and little, that our greediness makes us swallow many of them alive.

Eug. You put me in mind of a fancy of your friend Mr Boyle, who was saying that he had thoughts of making a short romantick story, where the scene should be laid in some island of the southern ocean, governed by some such rational laws and customs as those of Utopia, or the New Atlantis; and in this country he would introduce an observing native, that upon his return home from his travels made in Europe should give an account of our countries and manners under feigned names, and frequently intimate in his relations (or in his answers to questions that should be made him, the reasons of his wondering to find our customs so ertravagant, and differing from those of his country. For your friend imagined that by such a way of proposing many of our practices, we should ourselves be brought unawares to condemn or perhaps laugh at them, and should at least cease to wonder to find other nations think them as extravagant as we think the manners of the Dutch and Spaniards, as they are represented in our travellers' books.

Lind. I dislike not the project, and wish it were prosecuted by somebody that being impartial were more a friend to fables. For when I consider that the name of Barbarian was given by the two noblest people of the earth, the Greeks and Romans, not, only to all the rest of the world, but to one another, though both those nations were highly civilized, and the courtly Persians, and other voluptuous Asiaticks were perhaps no less so than they; I doubt that most nations in styling one another's manners extravagant and absurd are guided more by education and partiality than reason; and that we laugh at many customs of strangers only because we never were bred to them, and prize many of our own only because we never considered them. And we may well believe that custom has much a larger empire than men seem to be aware of, since whole nations are wholly swayed by it that do not reckon themselves among its subjects, nor so much as dream that they are so.

HOUGH the greatest writer of his generation— Milton— strove with all the energy of despair to support the falling fabric of republicanism, to no section of the community was the restoration

of Charles II. more welcome than to men of letters. Notable books had been published during the Civil Wars and Protectorate, but the chief literary product had been a rank crop of unprofitable pamphlets.

An immediate result of the Restoration was the revival of the drama. For nearly eighteen For nearly eighteen years the acting of plays had been prohibited, but at the Restoration permission was given for the establishment of two theatrical companies the King's (under Thomas Killigrew) and the Duke's (under Sir William D'Avenant). Of the famous dramatists who flourished before the outbreak of the Civil Wars only one survived -James Shirley, who in 1659 had published The Contention of Ajax and Ulysses (written for a private entertainment), containing the fine and solemn song, 'The glories of our blood and State,' which Bowman the actor used to sing to Charles II. Several of Shirley's plays were revived at the Restoration (The Cardinal and The Traitor most frequently); but in the preface to The Contention he had announced that nothing of this nature shall after this engage either my pen or invention,' and he kept his word. He died in 1666; and in Mac Flecknoe (1682) Dryden held up his works, with Thomas Heywood's, to derision. On the Restoration stage revivals of old plays-notably of Beaumont and Fletcher-were constantly produced, not seldom in garbled versions. The store of old dramatic poetry was ransacked from end to end by rapacious plagiarists. Shakespeare kept his popularity, though his plays were less frequently acted than Beaumont and Fletcher's; but irreverent playwrights did not hesitate to mutilate even Shakespeare's masterpieces by wanton and insipid 'alterations.'

The foremost part in restoring the fortunes of the theatre was taken by Sir William D'Avenant, who had written for the stage in

the days of Charles I. He is not to be ranked with the elder and nobler dramatists, but he possessed high accomplishments and versatile abilities, and he never grew old. In his philosophical poem Gondibert he achieved a solid success. Some of his songs (notably 'The lark now leaves his watery nest') are of rare excellence. He was a devoted admirer of Shakespeare, but he had lived an exile in France, and came back a modern of the moderns. Dryden found him of 'so quick a fancy that nothing was proposed to him on which he could not suddenly produce a thought extremely pleasant and surprising.' Four years before the Restoration he had obtained leave from the authorities to produce at the Cockpit an operatic piece, The Siege of Rhodes. After the Restoration he wrote regularly for the stage, sometimes in conjunction with Dryden, down to the year of his death (1668). Too much attention was paid by D'Avenant to spectacular effects; but it cannot be denied that the personation of women's characters by women, instead of by boys as heretofore, was a welcome innovation.

One of the earliest of the Restoration dramatists was John Wilson, Recorder of Londonderry, who wrote comedies of considerable merit on the model of Ben Jonson. To the Earl of Orrery was due the introduction of rhymed tragedies. Dryden followed Orrery's lead, and wrote play after play in rhymed heroics, mixing good poetry with intolerable fustian. Sir Robert Howard, Dryden's brotherin-law, also cultivated the heroic drama. John Crowne and, at a somewhat later date, William Lee-writers who sixty years earlier might have done excellent work-composed tragedies that, in spite of crudeness and violent exaggeration, have unmistakable power. Lee confined himself to tragedy; but Crowne, in Sir Courtly Nice, showed comic talent of a high order. The best picture of contemporary manners is to be found in the plays of Thomas Shadwell, whom Dryden assailed so bitterly. We must not look to Shadwell for poetry, though he was appointed poet-laureate at the Revolution; but in depicting the brisk, bustling life of the

town he showed himself an apt pupil of the master in whose steps he essayed to treadBen Jonson. More refined than Shadwell was Sir George Etheredge, who may claim to be the founder of 'artificial comedy' or 'comedy of manners.' Foremost among the writers of this school are Wycherley and Congreve. The licentiousness which disfigures the Restoration drama becomes in Wycherley's plays (valuable though they be for their vigorous satire and abundant mirth) positively revolting. For wit and brilliancy Congreve has never been surpassed; indeed, the wit and brilliancy are lavished with so free a hand as to cause at times a feeling of fatigue. In tragedy Congreve does not show to advantage. Tenderness and a measure of tragic power belonged to the ill-starred poet Thomas Otway, whose Orphan and Venice Preserved stirred by their pathos many generations of playgoers. Sir John Vanbrugh wisely refrained from attempting tragedy, but his comedies are very readable for their vivacious dialogue and dexterous plots. The plays of Mrs Aphra Behn, though they transgress the bounds of decency and decorum, are bustling and diverting. Mrs Manley's contributions to the stage may be safely neglected; but the farcical comedies of Mrs Centlivre will repay perusal. Thomas Southerne, an amiable poet, who was the friend of Dryden, and in his old age was complimented by Gray, wrote tragedy and comedy with equal facility. His Oroonoko, founded on Mrs Behn's once-famous romance, appealed effectively to sentimental audiences, and contains a few passages that rise above mediocrity. George Farquhar, who died at nine-and-twenty (in 1707), achieved a brilliant success with The Beaux' Stratagem, but in his less famous plays there is no lack of exuberant spirits and comic invention. Among playwrights who would claim notice in an extended survey of the drama are the Killigrews, Sir John Sedley, Lacy the actor, Ravenscroft (a brutal writer), honest Tom Durfey, and Elkanah Settle (whose Empress of Morocco is prized by collectors for the 'sculptures' with which it is adorned).

Dryden's supremacy in the drama was maintained throughout the later years of the seventeenth century. His first play, The Wild Gallant (1663), with a plot drawn (as frequently in Restoration plays) from Spanish sources, was a distinct failure; and The Rival Ladies, produced later in the same year,

attained only a moderate success. He estab lished his reputation firmly in 1667 by his Secret Love, which placed him at the head of contemporary playwrights. In 1671 the Duke of Buckingham, collaborating with Samuel Butler and others, held up the heroic drama to ridicule in that brilliant burlesque The Rehearsal (Dryden figuring therein as the poet Bayes); but Dryden's popularity was secure against all assaults-though not all his plays achieved success. In 1675 appeared the last of his rhymed tragedies, Aureng-b and for three years he ceased to write for the stage. In All for Love (1677-78) he abandoned rhyme, declaring, 'In my style I have professed to imitate the divine Shakespeare, which that I might perform freely, I have disencumbered myself from rhyme, not that I condemn my former way, but that it is more proper to my present purpose.' On the present occasion he wrote for himself;' his earlier plays were given to the people.' No. notice, however brief, of Dryden's connection with the stage should fail to make mention of his admirably pithy and pointed prologues and epilogues, wherein he surpassed all his contemporaries.

In the Restoration drama we see reflected the dissolute manners of the court. The inevitable reaction against Puritanism had set in strongly, sweeping away the restraints prescribed by decency and good taste. Jeremy Collier's famous attack on contemporary playwrights, in his Short View (1698), was inspired by honest indignation. Not only does the drama of the Restoration and the Revolution offend by its grossness, but it leaves on the reader's mind an impression of ignobility and unreality. Only in an unheroic age would the impossible 'heroic tragedy' have been tolerated. In Elizabethan plays rant and bombast can be freely found (and grossness frequently abounds), but these faults are redeemed by the presence of fine poetry and exalted sentiment. Chapman in Buss D'Ambois raved furiously, but his ravings were the frenzy of a poet; Dryden's extravagances, or Crowne's, or Lee's, simply provoke the reader's impatient derision. The ignobility of the Restoration drama is shown most clearly by reference to Molière. With avidity the English dramatists seized the delicate creations of the French master, and produced coarse, depraved imitations-turning pure gold

to dross.