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face of danger, and charity to prevent the shedding of blood. Yet in his natural inclination he acknowledged he was addicted to the profession of a soldier; and shortly after he came to his fortune, be fore he was of age, he went into the Low Countries, with a resolution of procuring command, and to give himself up to it; from which he was diverted by the complete inactivity of that summer: so he returned into England, and shortly after entered upon that vehement course of study we mentioned before, till the first alarm from the north; then again he made ready for the field, and though he received some repulse in the command of a troop of horse, of which he had a promise, he went a volunteer with the earl of Essex.
From the entrance into this unnatural war, his natural chearfulness and vivacity grew clouded, and a kind of sadness and dejection of spirit stole upon him, which he had never been used to: yet being one of those who believed that one battle would end all differences, and that there would be so great a victory on one side, that the other would be compelled to submit to any conditions from the victor, (which supposition and conclusion generally sunk into the minds of most men, and prevented the looking after many advantages that might then have been laid hold of) he resisted those indispositions, et in luctu, bellum inter remedia erat. But after the king's
return from Brentford, and the furious resolution of the two houses not to admit any treaty for peace, those indispositions, which had before touched him, grew into a perfect habit of uncheerfulness; and he, who had been so exactly easy and affable to all men, that his face and countenance was always present, and vacant to his company, and held
any cloudiness and less pleasantness of the visage a kind of rude ness or incivility, became on a sudden less communicable; and thence, very sad, pale, and exceedingly affected with the spleen. In his clothes and habit, which he had minded before always with more neatness, and industry, and expence, than is usual to so great a soul, he was not now only incurious, but too negligent; and in his reception of suitors, and the necessary or casual addresses to his place, so quick, and sharp, and severe, that there wanted not some men (strangers to his nature and disposition) who believed him proud and imperious; from which no mortal man was ever more free,
It is true, that as he as of a most incomparable gentleness, application, and even submission to good and worthy and entire men, so he was naturally (which could not be more evident in his place, whịch objected him to another conversation and intermix, ture than his own election would have done) adver, sus malos injucundus; and was so ill a dissembler of his dislike and disinclination to ill men, that it was
not possible for such not to discern it. There was once, in the House of Commons, such a declared acceptation of the good service an eminent member had done to them, and, as they said, to the whole kingdom, that it was moved, he being present, “ That the speaker might, in the name of the whole house, give him thanks, and then that every member might, as a testimony of his particular acknowledgment, stir or move his hat towards him; the which (though not ordered) when very many did, the lord Falkland (who believed the service itself not to be of that moment, and that an honourable and generous person could not have stooped to it for
any récompence) instead of moving his hat, stretched both his arms out, and clasped his hands together upon
the uJwn of his hat, and held it close down to his head; that all men might see, how odious that flattery was to him, and that very approbation of the person, though at the same time most popular.
When there was any overture, or hope of peace, he would be more erect, and vigorous, and exceedingly solicitous to press any thing which he thought might promote it; and sitting among his friends, often after a deep silence, and frequent sighs, would, with a shrill and sad accent, ingeminate the word Peace, Peace; and would passionately profess," that the very agony of the war, and the view of the calamities and desolation the kingdom. did and must endure, took his sleep from him, and would shortly break his heart. This made some think, or pretend to think, " that he was so much enamoured of peace, that he would have been glad the king should have bought it at any price; which was a most upreasonable calumny. As if a man that was himself the most punctual and precise in every circumstance that might reflect upon conscience or honour, could have wished the king to have committed a trespass against either. And yet this senseless scandal made some impression upon him, or at least he used it for an excuse of the daringness of his spirit; for at the leaguer before Gloucester, when his friend passionately reprehended him for exposing his person unnecessarily to danger, (for he delighted to visit the trenches, and nearest approaches, and to discover what the enemy did) as being so much beside the duty of his place, that it might be understood rather to be against it, he would say merrily, “ that his office could not take away the privileges of his age; and that a secretary in war might be present at the greatest secret of danger; but withal alledged se'riously, “ that it concerned him to be more active in enterprises of hazard, than other men ; that all might see, that his impatience for peace proceeded not from pusillanimity, or fear to adventure his own person.
In the morning before the battle, as always upon action, he was very cheerful, and put himself into the first rank of the lord Byron's regiment, then advancing upon the enemy, who had lined the hedges on both sides with musketeers; from whence he was shot with a musket, in the lower part of the belly, and in the instant falling from his horse, his body was not found till the next morning; till when, there was some hope he might have been a prisoner ; though his nearest friends, who knew his temper, received small comfort from that imagination. Thus fell that incomparable young man, in the four-andthirtieth year of his age, having so much dispatched the true business of life, that the eldest rarely at tain to that immense knowledge, and the youngest enter not into the world with more innocency : whosoever leads such a life, needs be the less anxious upon how short warning it is taken from him.
He was one of those men, quos vituperare ne inimici quidem possunt, nisi ut simul laudent ; whom his very enemies could not condemn without commenda ing him at the same time : for he could never have done half that mischief, without great parts of cou