Which most do hurt when least suspected,
By this play are not affected.

But if conceit, with quick-turn'd scenes,
Observing all those ancient streams
Which from the Horse-foot Fount do flow-
As time, place, person-and to show
Things never done, with that true life,
That thoughts and wits shall stand at strife,
Whether the things now shown be true,
Or whether we ourselves now do
The things we but present: if these,
Free from the loathsome stage-disease
(So overworn, so tired and stale,
Not satirising but to rail),
May win your favours, and inherit
But calm acceptance of his merit,-
He vows by paper, pen, and ink,
And by the learned Sister's drink,
To spend his time, his lamps, his oil,
And never cease his brain to toil,
Till from the silent hours of night
He doth produce for your delight
Conceits so new, so harmless free,
That Puritans themselves may see
A play; yet not in public preach,
That players such lewd doctrine teach,

That their pure joints do quake and tremble,
When they do see a man resemble
The picture of a villain.—This,

As he a friend to Muses is,
To you by me he gives his word
Is all his play doth now afford.

EXTRACTS FROM "RAM ALLEY."

A SPEECH ON NOSES.

Taffata speaks:-I'll tell thee what,
A witty woman may with ease distinguish
All men by their noses, as thus: your nose
Tuscan is lovely, large, and broad,

Much like a goose; your valiant, generous nose,
A crooked, smooth, and a great puffing nose;
Your scholar's nose is very fresh and raw
For want of fire in winter, and quickly smells
His chops of mutton in his dish of porrage;
Your Puritan nose is very sharp and long,
And much like your widow's, and with ease can
smell

An edifying capon some five streets off.

Nor is't of flesh, but merely made of wax,
And 'tis within the power of us lawyers
To wrest this nose of wax which way we please:
Or it may be, as thou say'st, an eye indeed;
But if it be, 'tis sure a woman's eye,
That's ever rolling.

Dash.

Throat.

One knocks.

Go see who 'tis:

Stay, my chair and gown, and then go see who

knocks,

Thus must I seem a lawyer, which am, indeed, But merely dregs and offscum of the law.

THE LAWYER BAFFLED.

Enter LADY SOMERFIELD and JUSTICE TUTCHIN.

Lady S. To what extremes doth this licentious time

Hurry unstayed youth! Nor gods nor laws,
Whose penal scourges are enough to save
Ev'n damn'd fiends, can in this looser age
Confine unbounded youth. Who durst presume
To steal my youth's delight, my age's hope,
Her father's heir, and the last noble stem
Of all her ancestors? fear they, or gods or laws?
Justice T. I say as you say, sister; but for the
laws,

There are so many that men do stand in awe
Of none at all. Take heed they steal not you.
Who woos a widow with a fair full moon
Shall surely speed: beware of full moons, widow.

Enter SERVING-MAN.

Clad in old ends, and piec'd with brokery:
You wed my daughter!
Justice T.

Serving-M. Nothing for a man, but much for a beast;

I think him lunatic, for he demands
What plate of his is stirring in the house.

He calls your men his butlers, cooks, and steward,
Kisses your women, and makes exceedingly much
Of your coachman's wife.

Justice T. Then he's a gentleman, for 'tis a true note of a gentleman to make much of other men's wives. Bring him up at once, sirrah. Makes he much of your coachman's wife? a man may make much more of another man's wife than he can do of's own.

Enter SERVING-MAN and THROAT.

Serving-M.

That's my lady.

Marry my niece! your half sleeves shall not

carry her.

Throat. These storms will be dissolved in tears of joy,

Mother, I doubt it not: justice to you,
Do never wear but buckram out of sight;
That jerk at my half sleeves, and yet yourself
A flannel waistcoat, or a canvas truss,

A shift of thrift, I use it: let's be friends,
You know the law has tricks, ka me, ka thee.
Lady S. Speak, answer me, sir Jack; stole you
my daughter?

Throat. Short tale to make, I fingered have your daughter:

I have ta'en livery and seizin of the wench.
Deliver her, then, you know the statute laws,
She's mine without exception, bar, or clause;

Lady S. The fellow's mad, I think. Throat. I was not mad before I married; But, ipso facto, what the act may make me,

By your scant suit.

Throat. Law is my living,

And on that ancient mould I wear this outside: Suit upon suit wastes some, yet makes me thrive; First law, then gold, then love, and then we wive. Lady S. Be brief, good sir, what makes this bold intrusion?

Throat. Intrude I do not, for I know the law. It is the rule that squares out all our actions, Those actions bring in coin, coin gets me friends: Your son-in-law hath law at's fingers' ends. Lady S. My son-in-law! Throat. Madame, your son-in-law Mother, I come (be glad I call you so) To make a gentle breach into your favour, And win your approbation of my choice.

Justice T.

Fellows, come in there.

His earlier education was attended to by two aunts, who, although blind from their youth, were inwardly full of intellectual and religious light. By these he was encouraged in his passion for books. While only eight years old he was sent to school to two young Scotchmen, who, in the disguise of schoolmasters, had been placed in Dublin to further the interests of James I., before he became king of England. The Scotchmen are said to have been excellent masters, and under their care he progressed rapidly. In 1593, when the college of the University of Dublin was opened, he was, though only thirteen years of age, admitted one of the first three students, in which position his name may to this day be seen in the first line of the roll.

In 1596, while only in his seventeenth year, he took his degree of bachelor. Even before this he had already drawn up the plan and collected much of the materials for his Annals of the Old and New Testament. While in his nineteenth year he had a controversy with the learned Jesuit Henry Fitz-Symonds, then a prisoner in Dublin Castle, and acquitted himself so well that the Jesuit, who at first despised him as a boy, afterwards acknowledged the ripeness of his wit and his skill in disputation. Usher himself says, in answer to the foolish yet constantly repeated taunt of youth, "If I am a boy (as it hath pleased you very contemptuously to name me) I give thanks to the Lord that my carriage towards you hath been such as could minister unto you no occasion to despise my youth." In 1600 he acquired the degree of Master of Arts, and was appointed proctor and lecturer of the university, and soon after, though under canonical age, he was, on account of his great abilities,

In 1603 Usher was appointed to proceed to London in company with Dr. Luke Challoner, in order to purchase books for the library of the university. In 1607 he took the degree of Bachelor of Divinity, and was soon after made Chancellor of St. Patrick's. In the same year Camden visited Dublin to collect materials for his description of that city, which may be found in the last edition of his Britannia. In this he concludes his description thus:"Most of which I acknowledge to owe to the diligence and labour of James Usher, chancellor of the church of St. Patric, who in various learning and judgment far exceeds his years." In this year also, while yet only twenty-six years of age, he was chosen divinity professor in the university, the duties connected with which he performed diligently for thirteen years.

In 1609 Usher visited London for the third time, and on this occasion he became acquainted with the most able and learned men then there. These comprised Camden, whom he had already met, Selden, Sir Robert Cotton, Lydiat, Dr. Davenant, by all of whom he was treated with the utmost respect and consideration. After this he made it a rule to visit England once every three years for a stay of about three months, one of which he spent at each of the universities, the other in London. In 1610 he was elected provost of Trinity College, Dublin, which office he refused, fearful of its duties interfering with his literary designs, and in 1612 he took his degree of Doctor of Divinity. Next year, while in London, he published his first real work, De Ecclesiarum Christianarum Successione et Statu, which in its best shape in the edition of 1687 is printed with his Antiquities of the British Churches.

On his return to Ireland in 1613 he married the only daughter of Dr. Luke Challoner. The marriage was a happy one, and in