FREEDOM OF THE PRESS.

75

Wherefore of Law there can be no less acknowledged than that her seat is the bosom of God, her voice the harmony of the world : all things in Heaven and Earth do her homage, the very least as feeling her care, and the greatest as not exempted from her power; both Angels and men and creatures of what condition soever, though each in different sort and manner, yet all with uniform consent, admiring her as the mother of their peace and joy.

6

RICHARD HOOKER: 1553-1600.

FREEDOM OF THE PRESS.

I DENY not, but that it is of great concernment in the Church and Commonwealth, to have a vigilant eye how books demean themselves, as well as men; and thereafter to confine, imprison, and do sharpest justice on them as malefactors: for books are not absolutely dead things, but do contain a potency of life in them to be as active as that soul was whose progeny they are; nay, they do preserve as in a vial the purest efficacy and extraction of that living intellect that bred them. I know they are as lively, and as vigorously productive, as those fabulous dragon's teeth; and, being sown up and down, may chance to spring up armed men.

And yet, on the other hand, unless wariness be used, as good almost kill a man as kill a good book. Who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's image; but he who destroys a good book kills reason itself, kills the image of God, as it were in the eye. Many a man lives a burden to the Earth; but a good book is the precious life-blood of a master spirit, embalmed and treasured up on purpose to a life beyond life. It is true, no age can restore a life, whereof perhaps there is no great loss; and revolutions of ages do not oft recover the loss of a rejected truth, for the want of which whole nations fare the worse. We should be wary therefore what persecution we raise against the living labours of public men, how we spill that seasoned life of man preserved and stored up in books; since we see a kind of homicide may be thus committed,

This last paragraph has been cited by good judges as the most eloquent sentence in English prose. It is indeed hard to beat. It closes the first book of the author's great work entitled "Of the Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity."

sometimes a martyrdom, and, if it extend to the whole impression, a kind of massacre, whereof the execution ends not in the slaying of an elemental life, but strikes at that ethereal and fifth essence, the breath of reason itself, slays an immortality rather than a life.

JOHN MILTON: 1608-1674.

MUSIC AT NIGHT.

SCENE, -Avenue to PORTIA's House.

Enter LORENZO and JESSICA.

Lor. The Moon shines bright. In such a night as this,
When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees,
And they did make no noise, in such a night
Troilus, methinks, mounted the Trojan walls,
And sigh'd his soul toward the Grecian tents,
Where Cressid lay that night.

Jess.

In such a night
Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew;
And saw the lion's shadow ere himself,"
And ran dismay'd away.

Lor.

In such a night

Stood Dido with a willow in her hand

Upon the wild sea-banks, and waved her love

To come again to Carthage.

Jess.

Medea gather'd the enchanted herbs

That did renew old son.

Lor.

In such a night

In such a night

Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew,

And with an únthrift love did run from Venice

Did young Lorenzo swear he loved her well,
Stealing her soul with many vows of faith,
And ne'er a true one.

7 That is, ere she saw the lion himself.

8 Spenser in like sort makes the willow a symbol of forsaken love.

Lor.

MUSIC AT NIGHT.

And in such a night

Did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew,

Slander her love, and he forgave it her.
Jess. I would out-night you, did nobody come:
But, hark! I hear the footing of a man.

Enter STEPHANO.

Lor. Who comes so fast in silence of the night?

Steph. A friend.

779

Lor. A friend! what friend? your name, I pray you, friend?
Steph. Stephano is my name; and I bring word

My mistress will before the break of day

Be here at Belmont: she doth stray about
By holy crosses, where she kneels and prays
For happy wedlock hours."

Lor.

Who comes with her?

Steph. None but a holy hermit and her maid.

I pray you, is my master yet return'd?

Lor. He is not, nor we have not heard from him.

But go we in, I pray thee, Jessica,

And ceremoniously let us prepare

Some welcome for the mistress of the house.

Enter LAUNCELOT.

Laun. Sola, sola! wo, ha, ho! sola, sola!1

Lor. Who calls?

Laun. Sola! did you see Master Lorenzo and Mistress Lorenzo? -sola, sola!

Lor. Leave hollaing, man;— here.

Laun. Sola! where? where?

Lor. Here.

Laun. Tell him there's a post come from my master, with his horn full of good news: my master will be here ere morning. Lor. Sweet soul, let 's in, and there expect their coming. And yet no matter why should we go in?

My friend Stephano, signify, I pray you,

In old times crosses were set up at the intersection of roads, and in other places specially associated with saintly or heroic names, to invite the passers-by to devotion.

1 The postman used to carry a horn, and blow it to give notice of his coming, on approaching a place where he had something to deliver. Launcelot is here imitating the notes of the horn.

hin the house, your mistress is at hand;
id bring your music forth into the air. [Exit STEPHANO.
Low sweet the moon-light sleeps upon this bank!
Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music
Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night
Become the touches of sweet harmony.

Sit, Jessica. Look, how the floor of Heaven
Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold:
There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st
But in his motion like an angel sings,
Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins:
Such harmony is in immortal souls;
But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay
Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.

Enter Musicians.

Come, ho, and wake Diana with a hymn!
With sweetest touches pierce your mistress' ear,
And draw her home with music.

Jess. I'm never merry when I hear sweet music.

Lor. The reason is, your spirits are attentive:
For do but note a wild and wanton herd
Or race of youthful and unhandled colts,

Fetching mad bounds, bellowing, and neighing loud,
Which is the hot condition of their blood;

If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound,
air of music touch their ears,

Or
any
You shall perceive them make a mutual stand,
Their savage eyes turn'd to a modest gaze,

By the sweet power of music: therefore the poet
Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and floods;
Since nought so stockish, hard, and full of rage,
But music for the time doth change his nature.

The man that hath no music in himself,

Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds,

Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils;

The motions of his spirit are dull as night,

[Music.

2 A small plate, used in the administration of the Eucharist: it was commonly of gold, or silver-gilt.

MUSIC AT NIGHT.

And his affections dark as Erebus:

Let no such man be trusted. Mark the music.
Enter PORTIA and NERISSA at a distance.

Por. That light we see is burning in my hall.
How far that little candle throws his beams!
So shines a good deed in a naughty world.

Ner. When the Moon shone we did not see the candle.
Por. So doth the greater glory dim the less:

A substitute shines brightly as a king,
Until a king be by; and then his state
Empties itself, as doth an inland brook
Into the main of waters. Music! hark!
Ner. It is your music, Madam, of the house.
Por. Nothing is good, I see, without respect:

8

Methinks it sounds much sweeter than by day.
Ner. Silence bestows that virtue on it, Madam.
Por. The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark,
When neither is attended; and I think
The nightingale, if she should sing by day
When every goose is cackling, would be thought
No better a musician than the wren.

4

How many things by season season'd are
To their right praise and true perfection! —
Peace, ho! the Moon sleeps with Endymion,
And would not be awaked! 5

Lor.

That is the voice,

Or I am much deceived, of Portia.

79

[Music ceases.

Por. He knows me, as the blind man knows the cuckoo,
By the bad voice.

Lor.

Dear lady, welcome home.

Por. We have been praying for our husbands' welfare,
Which speed, we hope, the better for our words.
Are they return'd?

* Unless it be heeded, or attended to. Hence music sounds better when there is nothing to divert the attention.

4 The meaning is, that things acquire a relish by being used at the right time and in the right way. Seasoned is flavoured.

• Endymion was a very beautiful youth: Juno took a fancy to him, whereupon Jupiter grew jealous of him, and cast him into a perpetual sleep on Mount Latmos. While he was there asleep, Madam Luna got so smitten with his beauty, that she used to come down and kiss him, and lie by his side.