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Updated: June 17, 2025
Upon this, I began to consider with my self, what innumerable Multitudes of People lay confus'd together under the Pavement of that ancient Cathedral; how Men and Women, Friends and Enemies, Priests and Soldiers, Monks and Prebendaries, were crumbled amongst one another, and blended together in the same common Mass; how Beauty, Strength, and Youth, with Old-age, Weakness, and Deformity, lay undistinguish'd in the same promiscuous Heap of Matter.
I went fast and straight, heeding nothing, for at first my senses were all confus'd: but in a while the walking clear'd my wits, and I could think: and thinking, I could weep: and having wept, could fortify my heart. Here is the upshot, sir tho' 'tis held immodest for a maid to ask even far less of a man. Alike we carry our lives in our hands. You must go forward: I may not go back.
Driver, prithee call for a Glass, that I may set my self in order, before I go up; for really my Knight has not been at home all this Night, and I am so confus'd Enter one with a Glass, and two Wenches, Jenny and Doll. Lord, Mrs.
There was an another unhappiness in this Case, which made the Matter yet more confus'd, and that was, that the Souldiers had generally no gust to this War. This was an odd Case; for those sort of Gentlemen, especially in the World in the Moon, don't use to enquire into the Justice of the Case they Fight for, but they reckon 'tis their Business to go where they are sent, and kill any Body they are order'd to kill, leaving their Governors to answer for the Justice of it; but there was another Reason to be given why the Men of the Sword were so averse, and always talk't coldly of the fighting Part, and tho' the Northern Men call'd it fear, yet I cannot joyn with them in that, for to fear requires Thinking; and some of our Solunarians are absolutely protected from the first, because they never meddle with the last, except when they come to the Engine, and therefore 'tis plain it could not proceed from Fear.
He is in marked contrast to the levelling hatred of excellence, the Christian trades-unionism of the model Catholic of the mould of S. Francois de Sales whose maxim of life is "marchons avec la troupe de nos freres et compagnons, doucement, paisiblement, et amiablement." To Milton the people are But a herd confus'd, A miscellaneous rabble, who extol Things vulgar. Paradise Regained, iii. 49.
Writing to Barton, in the letter quoted from above, Lamb says: "Just such a confus'd piece is his Joshua, fritter'd into 1000 fragments, little armies here, little armies there you should see only the Sun and Joshua ... for Joshua, I was ten minutes finding him out." The great picture at Angerstein's.
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