that _Falstaff_ was in all respects the _old soldier_; that he had
put himself under the sober discipline of discretion, and renounced, in a
great degree at least, what he might call the Vanities and Superstitions
of honour; if the reader will, on his part, admit that this might well be,
without his renouncing, at the same time, the natural firmness and
resolution he was born to.

But there is a formidable objection behind. _Falstaff_ counterfeits basely
on being attacked by _Douglas_; he assumes, in a cowardly spirit, the
appearance of death to avoid the reality. But there was no equality of
force; not the least chance for victory, or life. And is it the duty then,
_think we still_, of true Courage, to meet, without benefit to society,
_certain death_? Or is it only the phantasy of honour?--But such a fiction
is highly disgraceful;--true, and a man of nice honour might perhaps have
_grinned_ for it. But we must remember that _Falstaff_ had a double
character; he was a _wit_ as well as a _soldier_; and his Courage, however
eminent, was but the _accessary_; his wit was the _principal_; and the
part, which, if they should come in competition, he had the greatest
interest in maintaining. Vain indeed were the licentiousness of his
principles, if he should seek death like a bigot, yet without the meed of
honour; when he might live by wit, and encrease the reputation of that wit
by living. But why do I labour this point? It has been already
anticipated, and our improved acquaintance with _Falstaff_ will now
require no more than a short narrative of the fact.

Whilst in the battle of _Shrewsbury_ he is exhorting and encouraging the
Prince who is engaged with the _Spirit Percy_--"_Well said Hal, to him
Hal_,"--he is himself attacked by the _Fiend Douglas_. There was no match;
nothing remained but death or stratagem; grinning honour, or laughing
life. But an expedient offers, a mirthful one,--Take your choice
_Falstaff_, a point of honour, or a point of drollery.--It could not be a
question;--_Falstaff_ falls, _Douglas_ is cheated, and the world laughs.
But does he fall like a Coward? No, like a buffoon only; the superior
principle prevails, and _Falstaff_ lives by a stratagem growing out of his
character, to prove himself _no counterfeit_, to jest, to be employed, and
to fight again. That _Falstaff_ valued himself, and expected to be valued
by others, upon this piece of saving wit, is plain. It was a stratagem, it
is true; it a