then returned to England and became secretary to the Earl of Essex. On the attainder of that nobleman he again retired into Italy, and was engaged in the secret diplomatic service of the Grand Duke of Tuscany. At King James's accession, he came back to England, was knighted, and employed in many important embassies. In 1623, the provostship of Eton College was given him, and he then took deacon's orders. Besides his prose writings on The State of Christendom, on The Elements of Architecture, etc., he wrote a few poems. One of these, The Character of a Happy Life, is familiar to most readers, though I must quote it none the less. It is said to have been first printed in 1614: How happy is he born and taught Of public fame or private breath; This man is freed from servile band I next extract the greater part of a hymn which he 1 Poems from Reliquia Wottonianæ, etc., in Hannah's Courtly Poets, It does not seem clear that this poem is strictly original, there being a German poem of the same age, very closely resembling it. Note in id. 90. wrote during his embassy at Venice, when the plague was raging there: Thus, then, our Strength, Father of life and death, To whom our thanks, our vows, ourselves we owe, Accept those lines which from Thy goodness flow, Let these poor notes ascend unto Thy throne, The errors of my wandering life are drowned; And conquer His own justice with His love! Future in hope, but present in belief: And Thou wilt find Thy dearly-bought in dust.1 Sir William Alexander, Earl of Stirling (1580-1640) wrote a number of poems and tragedies, some classical and others biblical. I quote a few lines from a long poem in twelve books upon Doomesday : Let not the godly man affliction fear; God wrestle may with some, but none o'erthrows. And best reward the greatest service [obedience] owes [possesses]; William Cartwright (1611-43) was a man of some note at Oxford, both as a preacher, and reader in 1 Poems from Reliquia Wottonianæ, 92. 2 Poetical Works of Sir W. Alexander, Earl of Stirling, in 3 vols. 1870. Р metaphysics. When the Civil War broke out, he acted with zeal and efficiency for the King, who went into mourning for him when he died of camp-fever. poems and plays were published in 1651. CONSIDERATION. Fool that I was, that little of my span Mine age like as the eagles, and endow My breast with innocence, that he, whom thou A vassal to thy tyranny, may turn Infant again, and having all of child Want wilt hereafter to be so beguiled.1 His Francis Quarles (1592-1644), son of an official in Elizabeth's Court, was a member of Lincoln's Inn, then Steward to the Princess Elizabeth, daughter of James I., and afterwards Secretary to Archbishop Usher in Ireland. When the Civil War broke out, his attachment to the King, whom he joined at Oxford, brought upon him the hostility of the Puritan party. His property was plundered, and various manuscripts which he had prepared for the press were destroyed. This loss he took so much to heart that it was thought to have hastened his death. One of his works, The Emblems, Divine and Moral, together with Hieroglyphics of the Life of Man, has been many times reprinted. It is not merely interesting for its quaintness, but valuable for the warm spirit of devotion with which it is penetrated. Each poem is headed by a curious 'hieroglyphic,' or emblematic engraving, with a text and a Latin motto, and is illustrated on the opposite page with quotations from the 1 Cartwright's Poems, Chalmers's English Poets, vi. 528. early Fathers, and with a short epigram. I give an example:-The hieroglyphic represents a heavenly globe at the top of a hill. A man is painfully riding up to it on an ass—so slowly that he is outstripped by a snail, and looking back the while to the terrestrial world below, towards which another rider, mounted on a stag, is spurring at full speed. The motto is, 'Da mihi fraena, timor; da mihi calcar, amor.' The text is from John iii. 19: 'Loving darkness rather than light.' The quotations are all three from St. Augustine. One is from his Exposition of the Psalms: 'Two several lovers built two several cities: the love of God buildeth a Jerusalem; the love of the world buildeth a Babylon. Let every one inquire of himself what he loveth, and he shall resolve himself of whence he is a citizen.' The other two are from The Confessions: All things are driven by their own weight, and tend to their own centre. My weight is my love; by that I am driven whithersoever I am driven.' 'Lord, he loveth Thee the less, that loveth anything with Thee, which he loveth not for Thee.' The epigram is— Lord, scourge my ass, if she shall make no haste, And curb my stag, if he should fly too fast; If he be over swift, or she prove idle, Let love lend her a spur; fear, him a bridle. The poem runs thus : Lord, when we leave the world, and come to Thee, How backward! how preposterous is the motion Our thoughts are millstones, and our souls are lead, Our vows are fairly promised, faintly paid; Our better work (if any good) attends In whose performance one poor worldly scoff If Thy sharp scourge find out some secret fault And if Thy gentle hand forbear, we stray, Is the road fair? we loiter. Clogged with mire? A lamb appears a lion; and we fear When our dull souls direct our thoughts to Thee, But at the earth we dart our winged desire, Like as the amorous needle joys to bend Or as the greedy lover's eyeballs fly So, so we cling to earth; we fly and puff, If pleasure beckon with her balmy hand, If profit's golden-fingered charm inveigles, Let Neptune swell until his dropsied sides Not threatening rocks, nor winds, nor waves, nor fire, Not fire nor rocks can stop our furious minds, Nor waves, nor winds; How fast and fearless do our footsteps flee! The following is an extract from the poem headed by an emblem which bears the motto, Phosphore redde diem:' How long! how long shall these benighted eyes Expecting Spring! How long shall darkness soil Our souls of sprightful action; when will day Begin to dawn, whose new-born ray May gild the weathercocks of our devotion, And give our unsouled souls new motion! Sweet Phosphor, bring the day! Thy light will fray These horrid mists; sweet Phosphor, bring the day! 2 1 Quarles' Emblems, Divine and Moral, i. 13. 2 Id. i. 14. |