must be out of date in a lounging age, although I have myself
known several who have continued the practice with pleasure and
utility.[102] One of our old writers quaintly observes, that "the
ancients used to take their stomach-pill of self-examination every
night. Some used little books, or tablets, which they tied at their
girdles, in which they kept a memorial of what they did, against their
night-reckoning." We know that Titus, the delight of mankind, as he has
been called, kept a diary of all his actions, and when at night he
found upon examination that he had performed nothing memorable, he
would exclaim, "_Amici! diem perdidimus!_" Friends! we have lost a day!

Among our own countrymen, in times more favourable for a concentrated
mind than in this age of scattered thoughts and of the fragments of
genius, the custom long prevailed: and we their posterity are still
reaping the benefit of their lonely hours and diurnal records. It is
always pleasing to recollect the name of Alfred, and we have deeply to
regret the loss of a manual which this monarch, so strict a manager of
his time, yet found leisure to pursue: it would have interested us much
more even than his translations, which have come down to us. Alfred
carried in his bosom memorandum leaves, in which he made collections
from his studies, and took so much pleasure in the frequent examination
of this journal, that he called it his _hand-book_, because, says
Spelman, day and night he ever had it in hand with him. This manual, as
my learned friend Mr. Turner, in his elaborate and philosophical Life of
Alfred, has shown by some curious extracts from Malmsbury, was the
repository of his own occasional literary reflections. An association of
ideas connects two other of our illustrious princes with Alfred.

Prince Henry, the son of James I., our English Marcellus, who was wept
by all the Muses, and mourned by all the brave in Britain, devoted a
great portion of his time to literary intercourse; and the finest
geniuses of the age addressed their works to him, and wrote several at
the prince's suggestion. Dallington, in the preface to his curious
"Aphorisms, Civil and Militarie," has described Prince Henry's domestic
life: "Myself," says he, "the unablest of many in that academy, for so
was his family, had this _especial employment for his proper use_, which
he pleased favourably to entertain, and _often to read over_."

The diary of Edward VI., written with his own