The noise was probably some child falling from a chair overhead, or a
chest of drawers being moved in an upper room; and if it _had_ been
thunder in a clear sky, it was no more than Horace once heard. Heaven does
not often express its approval of Deistical books. Lord Herbert, doubted
of general, and yet believed in individual revelation. What crazy vanity,
to think the work of an amateur philosopher of sufficient importance for a
special revelation,[484] that (in his own opinion) had been denied to a
neglected world! Lord Herbert, though refused the sacrament by Usher, bore
it very serenely, asked what o’clock it was, then said, “An hour hence I
shall depart,” turned his head to the other side, and expired.[485] He had
moved to this quarter from King Street. Lord Herbert, though he wrote a
Life to vindicate that brutal tyrant Henry VIII., was inconsistent enough
to join the Parliament against a less wise but more illegal king, Charles
I. When I pass down Queen Street, wondering whether that southern window
of the Welsh knight’s vision was on the front of the south side, or on the
back of the southern side of the street, I sometimes think of those soft
lines of his upon the question “whether love should continue for ever?”
“Having interr’d her infant birth,
The watery ground that late did mourn
Was strew’d with flowers for the return
Of the wish’d bridegroom of the earth.
“The well-accorded birds did sing
Their hymns unto the pleasant time,
And in a sweet consorted chime,
Did welcome in the cheerful spring.”
And then on my return home, I get out brave old Ben Jonson, and read his
lines addressed to this last of the knights:--
“... and on whose every part
Truth might spend all her voice, Fame all her art.
Whether thy learning they would take, or wit,
Or valour, or thy judgment seasoning it,
Thy standing upright to thyself, thy ends
Like straight, thy piety to God and friends.”
Sir Thomas Fairfax, general of the Parliament, probably lived here, as he
dated from this street a printed proclamation of the 12th of February
1648.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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