FOOTNOTES:

FOOTNOTES:[AX]The following brief memoir pretends to be nothing more than an enumeration of such particulars relative to the excellent prelate, whoseCharactersare here offered to the public, as could be gathered from the historical and biographical productions of the period in which he flourished. It is hoped that no material occurrence has been overlooked, or circumstance mis-stated; but should any errors appear to have escaped his observation, the editor will feel obliged by the friendly intimation of such persons as may be possessed of more copious information than he has been able to obtain, in order that they may be acknowledged and corrected in another place.[AY]He took the degree of Bachelor of Arts whilst a member of this society, July 8, 1619, and appears to have been always attached to it. In 1660 he gave twenty pounds towards repairing the cathedral and college.Wood. Hist. et Antiq. Univ. Oxon.lib. ii. p. 284.[AZ]Athenæ Oxon.ii. 365.[BA]Athenæ Oxon.ii. 365.[BB]Collins'Peerage, iii. 123.[BC]Clarendon.History of the Rebellion, ii. 827. Edit.Oxford, 1807.[BD]Walker.Sufferings of the Clergy, fol. 1714, part ii. page 63.[BE]During the early part of the civil wars, and whilst success was doubtful on either side, he appears to have lived in retirement, and to have employed himself in a translation of Hooker'sEcclesiastical Polityinto Latin, which, however, was never made public. At the appearance of Charles the First'sΕικων Βασιλικη, he was desired by the king (Ch. II.) to execute the same task upon that production, which he performed with great ability. It was printed for distribution on the continent in 1649.[BF]Wood.Ath. Oxon.ii. 365.[BG]Life of Dr. John Barwick, 8vo. Lond. 1724. p. 522.[BH]Dr. George Morley was chaplain to Charles the First, and canon of Christ Church, Oxford. At the Restoration he was made, first dean of Christ Church, then bishop of Worcester, and lastly bishop of Winchester, He died at Farnham-castle, October 29, 1684. See Wood.Athen. Oxon.ii. 581.[BI]Wood.Athenæ, ii. 770.[BJ]Clarendon'sRebellion, iii. 659.[BK]Life of Barwick, 452.[BL]Kennet'sRegister, folio, 1728, page 504.[BM]Wood.Athenæ, ii. 366.

[AX]The following brief memoir pretends to be nothing more than an enumeration of such particulars relative to the excellent prelate, whoseCharactersare here offered to the public, as could be gathered from the historical and biographical productions of the period in which he flourished. It is hoped that no material occurrence has been overlooked, or circumstance mis-stated; but should any errors appear to have escaped his observation, the editor will feel obliged by the friendly intimation of such persons as may be possessed of more copious information than he has been able to obtain, in order that they may be acknowledged and corrected in another place.

[AX]The following brief memoir pretends to be nothing more than an enumeration of such particulars relative to the excellent prelate, whoseCharactersare here offered to the public, as could be gathered from the historical and biographical productions of the period in which he flourished. It is hoped that no material occurrence has been overlooked, or circumstance mis-stated; but should any errors appear to have escaped his observation, the editor will feel obliged by the friendly intimation of such persons as may be possessed of more copious information than he has been able to obtain, in order that they may be acknowledged and corrected in another place.

[AY]He took the degree of Bachelor of Arts whilst a member of this society, July 8, 1619, and appears to have been always attached to it. In 1660 he gave twenty pounds towards repairing the cathedral and college.Wood. Hist. et Antiq. Univ. Oxon.lib. ii. p. 284.

[AY]He took the degree of Bachelor of Arts whilst a member of this society, July 8, 1619, and appears to have been always attached to it. In 1660 he gave twenty pounds towards repairing the cathedral and college.

Wood. Hist. et Antiq. Univ. Oxon.lib. ii. p. 284.

[AZ]Athenæ Oxon.ii. 365.

[AZ]Athenæ Oxon.ii. 365.

[BA]Athenæ Oxon.ii. 365.

[BA]Athenæ Oxon.ii. 365.

[BB]Collins'Peerage, iii. 123.

[BB]Collins'Peerage, iii. 123.

[BC]Clarendon.History of the Rebellion, ii. 827. Edit.Oxford, 1807.

[BC]Clarendon.History of the Rebellion, ii. 827. Edit.Oxford, 1807.

[BD]Walker.Sufferings of the Clergy, fol. 1714, part ii. page 63.

[BD]Walker.Sufferings of the Clergy, fol. 1714, part ii. page 63.

[BE]During the early part of the civil wars, and whilst success was doubtful on either side, he appears to have lived in retirement, and to have employed himself in a translation of Hooker'sEcclesiastical Polityinto Latin, which, however, was never made public. At the appearance of Charles the First'sΕικων Βασιλικη, he was desired by the king (Ch. II.) to execute the same task upon that production, which he performed with great ability. It was printed for distribution on the continent in 1649.

[BE]During the early part of the civil wars, and whilst success was doubtful on either side, he appears to have lived in retirement, and to have employed himself in a translation of Hooker'sEcclesiastical Polityinto Latin, which, however, was never made public. At the appearance of Charles the First'sΕικων Βασιλικη, he was desired by the king (Ch. II.) to execute the same task upon that production, which he performed with great ability. It was printed for distribution on the continent in 1649.

[BF]Wood.Ath. Oxon.ii. 365.

[BF]Wood.Ath. Oxon.ii. 365.

[BG]Life of Dr. John Barwick, 8vo. Lond. 1724. p. 522.

[BG]Life of Dr. John Barwick, 8vo. Lond. 1724. p. 522.

[BH]Dr. George Morley was chaplain to Charles the First, and canon of Christ Church, Oxford. At the Restoration he was made, first dean of Christ Church, then bishop of Worcester, and lastly bishop of Winchester, He died at Farnham-castle, October 29, 1684. See Wood.Athen. Oxon.ii. 581.

[BH]Dr. George Morley was chaplain to Charles the First, and canon of Christ Church, Oxford. At the Restoration he was made, first dean of Christ Church, then bishop of Worcester, and lastly bishop of Winchester, He died at Farnham-castle, October 29, 1684. See Wood.Athen. Oxon.ii. 581.

[BI]Wood.Athenæ, ii. 770.

[BI]Wood.Athenæ, ii. 770.

[BJ]Clarendon'sRebellion, iii. 659.

[BJ]Clarendon'sRebellion, iii. 659.

[BK]Life of Barwick, 452.

[BK]Life of Barwick, 452.

[BL]Kennet'sRegister, folio, 1728, page 504.

[BL]Kennet'sRegister, folio, 1728, page 504.

[BM]Wood.Athenæ, ii. 366.

[BM]Wood.Athenæ, ii. 366.

——"He was a person very notable for his elegance in the Greek and Latin tongues; and being fellow of Merton college in Oxford, and having been proctor of the university, and some very witty and sharp discourses being published in print without his consent, though known to be his, he grew suddenly into a very general esteem with all men; being a man of great piety and devotion; a most eloquent and powerful preacher; and of a conversation so pleasant and delightful, so very innocent, and so very facetious, that no man's company was more desired, and more loved. No man was more negligent in his dress, and habit, and mein; no man more wary and cultivated in his behaviour and discourse; insomuch as he had the greater advantage when he was known, by promising so little before he was known. He was an excellent poet both in Latin, Greek, and English, as appears by many pieces yet abroad; though he suppressed many more himself, especially of English, incomparably good, out of an austerity to those sallies of his youth. He was very dear to the Lord Falkland, with whom he spent as much time as he could make his own; and as that lord would impute the speedy progress he made in the Greek tongue to the information and assistance he had from Mr. Earles, so Mr. Earles would frequently profess that he had got more useful learning by his conversationat Tew (the Lord Falkland's house,) than he had at Oxford. In the first settling of the prince his family, he was made one of his chaplains, and attended on him when he was forced to leave the kingdom. He was amongst the few excellent men who never had, nor ever could have, an enemy, but such a one who was an enemy to all learning and virtue, and therefore would never make himself known."

Lord Clarendon.Account of his own Life, folio, Oxford, 1759, p. 26.

——"This is that Dr. Earle, who from his youth (I had almost said from his childhood,) for his natural and acquired abilities was so very eminent in the university of Oxon; and after was chosen to be one of the first chaplains to his Majesty (when Prince of Wales): who knew not how to desert his master, but with duty and loyalty (suitable to the rest of his many great virtues, both moral and intellectual,) faithfully attended his Majesty both at home and abroad, as chaplain, and clerk of his majesty's closet, and upon his majesty's happy return, was made Dean of Westminster, and now Lord Bishop of Worcester, (for which, December 7, he did homage to his Majesty,) having this high and rare felicity by his excellent and spotless conversation, to have lived so many years in the court of England, so near his Majesty, and yet not given the least offence to any man alive; though both in and out of pulpit he used all Christian freedom against the vanities of this age, being honoured and admired by all who have either known, heard, or read him."

White Kennett(Bishop of Peterborough)Register and Chronicle Ecclesiastical and Civil, folio, London, 1728, page 834.

——"Dr. Earle, now Lord Bishop of Salisbury, of whom I may justly say, (and let it not offend him, because it is such a truth as ought not to be concealed from posterity, or those that now live and yet know him not,) that, since Mr. Hooker died, none have lived whom God hath blessed with more innocent wisdom, more sanctified learning, or a more pious, peaceable, primitive temper: so that this excellent person seems to be only like himself, and our venerable Richard Hooker."

Walton.Life of Mr. Richard Hooker, 8vo. Oxford, 1805, i. 327.

——"This Dr. Earles, lately Lord Bishop of Salisbury.—A person certainly of the sweetest, most obliging nature that lived in our age."

Hugh Cressey.Epistle Apologetical to a Person of Honour(Lord Clarendon), 8vo. 1674, page 46.

——"Dr. Earle, Bishop of Salisbury, was a man that could do good against evil; forgive much, and of a charitable heart."

Pierce.Conformist's Plea for Nonconformity, 4to. 1681, page 174.

1.Microcosmography, or a Piece of the World discovered, in Essays and Characters.London.1628. &c. &c. 12mo.

2.Hooker's Ecclesiastical Polity, translated into Latin. This, says Wood, "is in MS. and not yet printed." In whose possession the MS. was does not appear, nor have I been able to trace it in the catalogue of any public or private collection.

3.Hortus Mertonensis, a Latin Poem, of which Wood gives the first line "Hortus deliciæ domus politæ." It is now supposed to be lost.

4.Lines on the Death of Sir John Burroughs; now printed for the first time. See Appendix,No. IV.

5.Lines on the Death of the Earl of Pembroke; now printed for the first time. See Appendix,No. V.

6.Elegy upon Francis Beaumont; first printed at the end ofBeaumont's Poems, London, 1640. 4to. See Appendix,No. VI.

7.Εικων Βασιλικη,vel Imago Regis Caroli,In illis suis Ærumnis et Solitudine. Hagæ-Comitis.Typis S. B. &c. 1649. 12mo. See Appendix,No. VII.[BN]

FOOTNOTES:[BN]Besides the pieces above noticed, several smaller poems were undoubtedly in circulation during Earle's life, the titles of which are not preserved. Wood supposes (Ath. Oxon.) our author to have contributed to "some of the Figures, of which about ten were published" but is ignorant of the exact numbers to be attributed to his pen. In the Bodleian[BO]is "The Figvre of Fovre: Wherein are sweet flowers, gathered out of that fruitfull ground, that I hope will yeeld pleasure and profit to all sorts of people. The second Part, London, Printed for Iohn Wright, and are to bee sold at his shop without Newgate, at the signe of the Bible, 1636." This, however, was undoubtedly one of Breton's productions, as his initials are affixed to the preface. It is in 12mo. and consists of twenty pages, not numbered. The following extracts will be sufficient to shew the nature of the volume."There are foure persons not to be believed: a horse-courser when he sweares, a whore when shee weepes, a lawyer when he pleads false, and a traveller when he tels wonders."There are foure great cyphers in the world: hee that is lame among dancers, dumbe among lawyers, dull among schollers and rude amongst courtiers"Foure things grievously empty: a head without braines, a wit without judgment, a heart without honesty, and a purse without money."Ant. Wood possessed thefigure of six, which, however, is now not to be found among his books left to the university of Oxford, and deposited in Ashmole's museum. That it once was there, is evident from the MS. catalogue of that curious collection.[BO]8vo. L. 78. Art.

[BN]Besides the pieces above noticed, several smaller poems were undoubtedly in circulation during Earle's life, the titles of which are not preserved. Wood supposes (Ath. Oxon.) our author to have contributed to "some of the Figures, of which about ten were published" but is ignorant of the exact numbers to be attributed to his pen. In the Bodleian[BO]is "The Figvre of Fovre: Wherein are sweet flowers, gathered out of that fruitfull ground, that I hope will yeeld pleasure and profit to all sorts of people. The second Part, London, Printed for Iohn Wright, and are to bee sold at his shop without Newgate, at the signe of the Bible, 1636." This, however, was undoubtedly one of Breton's productions, as his initials are affixed to the preface. It is in 12mo. and consists of twenty pages, not numbered. The following extracts will be sufficient to shew the nature of the volume."There are foure persons not to be believed: a horse-courser when he sweares, a whore when shee weepes, a lawyer when he pleads false, and a traveller when he tels wonders."There are foure great cyphers in the world: hee that is lame among dancers, dumbe among lawyers, dull among schollers and rude amongst courtiers"Foure things grievously empty: a head without braines, a wit without judgment, a heart without honesty, and a purse without money."Ant. Wood possessed thefigure of six, which, however, is now not to be found among his books left to the university of Oxford, and deposited in Ashmole's museum. That it once was there, is evident from the MS. catalogue of that curious collection.

[BN]Besides the pieces above noticed, several smaller poems were undoubtedly in circulation during Earle's life, the titles of which are not preserved. Wood supposes (Ath. Oxon.) our author to have contributed to "some of the Figures, of which about ten were published" but is ignorant of the exact numbers to be attributed to his pen. In the Bodleian[BO]is "The Figvre of Fovre: Wherein are sweet flowers, gathered out of that fruitfull ground, that I hope will yeeld pleasure and profit to all sorts of people. The second Part, London, Printed for Iohn Wright, and are to bee sold at his shop without Newgate, at the signe of the Bible, 1636." This, however, was undoubtedly one of Breton's productions, as his initials are affixed to the preface. It is in 12mo. and consists of twenty pages, not numbered. The following extracts will be sufficient to shew the nature of the volume.

"There are foure persons not to be believed: a horse-courser when he sweares, a whore when shee weepes, a lawyer when he pleads false, and a traveller when he tels wonders.

"There are foure great cyphers in the world: hee that is lame among dancers, dumbe among lawyers, dull among schollers and rude amongst courtiers

"Foure things grievously empty: a head without braines, a wit without judgment, a heart without honesty, and a purse without money."

Ant. Wood possessed thefigure of six, which, however, is now not to be found among his books left to the university of Oxford, and deposited in Ashmole's museum. That it once was there, is evident from the MS. catalogue of that curious collection.

[BO]8vo. L. 78. Art.

[BO]8vo. L. 78. Art.

KILLED BY A BULLET AT REEZ[BP].

[From a MS. in the Bodleian.]—(Rawl. Poet. 142.)

Why did we thus expose thee? what's now allThat island to requite thy funeral?Though thousand French in murder'd heaps do lie,It may revenge, it cannot satisfy:We must bewail our conquest when we seeOur price too dear to buy a victory.He whose brave fire gave heat to all the rest,That dealt his spirit in t' each English breast,From whose divided virtues you may takeSo many captains out, and fully makeThem each accomplish'd with those parts, the which,Jointly, did his well-furnish'd soul enrich.Not rashly valiant, nor yet fearful wise,His flame had counsel, and his fury, eyes.Not struck in courage at the drum's proud beat,Or made fierce only by the trumpet's heat—When e'en pale hearts above their pitch do fly,And, for a while do mad it valiantly.His rage was tempered well, no fear could dauntHis reason, his cold blood was valiant.Alas! these vulgar praises injure thee;Which now a poet would as plenteouslyGive some brag-soldier, one that knew no moreThan the fine scabbard and the scarf he wore.Fathers shall tell their children [this] was he,(And they hereafter to posterity,)Rank'd with those forces scourged France of old,Burrough's and Talbot's[BQ]names together told.

Why did we thus expose thee? what's now allThat island to requite thy funeral?Though thousand French in murder'd heaps do lie,It may revenge, it cannot satisfy:We must bewail our conquest when we seeOur price too dear to buy a victory.He whose brave fire gave heat to all the rest,That dealt his spirit in t' each English breast,From whose divided virtues you may takeSo many captains out, and fully makeThem each accomplish'd with those parts, the which,Jointly, did his well-furnish'd soul enrich.Not rashly valiant, nor yet fearful wise,His flame had counsel, and his fury, eyes.Not struck in courage at the drum's proud beat,Or made fierce only by the trumpet's heat—When e'en pale hearts above their pitch do fly,And, for a while do mad it valiantly.His rage was tempered well, no fear could dauntHis reason, his cold blood was valiant.Alas! these vulgar praises injure thee;Which now a poet would as plenteouslyGive some brag-soldier, one that knew no moreThan the fine scabbard and the scarf he wore.Fathers shall tell their children [this] was he,(And they hereafter to posterity,)Rank'd with those forces scourged France of old,Burrough's and Talbot's[BQ]names together told.

J. Earles.

FOOTNOTES:[BP]For an account of the unsuccessful expedition to the Isle of Ré, under the command of the Duke of Buckingham, see Carte'sHistory of England, vol. iv. page 176, folio,Lond. 1755. Sir John Burroughs, a general of considerable renown, who possessed the chief confidence of the Duke, fell in an endeavour to reconnoitre the works of the enemy, Aug. 1627.[BQ]Sir John Talbot, first earl of Shrewsbury, of whom see Collins'Peerage, iii. 9. Holinshed, Rapin, Carte, &c.

[BP]For an account of the unsuccessful expedition to the Isle of Ré, under the command of the Duke of Buckingham, see Carte'sHistory of England, vol. iv. page 176, folio,Lond. 1755. Sir John Burroughs, a general of considerable renown, who possessed the chief confidence of the Duke, fell in an endeavour to reconnoitre the works of the enemy, Aug. 1627.

[BP]For an account of the unsuccessful expedition to the Isle of Ré, under the command of the Duke of Buckingham, see Carte'sHistory of England, vol. iv. page 176, folio,Lond. 1755. Sir John Burroughs, a general of considerable renown, who possessed the chief confidence of the Duke, fell in an endeavour to reconnoitre the works of the enemy, Aug. 1627.

[BQ]Sir John Talbot, first earl of Shrewsbury, of whom see Collins'Peerage, iii. 9. Holinshed, Rapin, Carte, &c.

[BQ]Sir John Talbot, first earl of Shrewsbury, of whom see Collins'Peerage, iii. 9. Holinshed, Rapin, Carte, &c.

[From the same MS.]

Come, Pembroke lives! Oh! do not fright our earsWith the destroying truth! first raise our fearsAnd say he is not well: that will sufficeTo force a river from the public eyes,Or, if he must be dead, oh! let the newsSpeak in astonish'd whispers: let it useSome phrase without a voice, and be so told,As if the labouring sense griev'd to unfoldIts doubtfull woe. Could not the public zealConquer the Fates, and save your's? Did the dartOf death, without a preface, pierce your heart?Welcome, sad weeds—but he that mourns for thee,Must bring an eye that can weep elegy.A look that would save blacks: whose heavy graceChides mirth, and bears a funeral in his face.Whose sighs are with such feeling sorrows blown,That all the air he draws returns a groan.Thou needst no gilded tomb—thy memory,Is marble to itself—the braveryOf jem or rich enamel is mis-spent—Thy noble corpse is its own monument!

Come, Pembroke lives! Oh! do not fright our earsWith the destroying truth! first raise our fearsAnd say he is not well: that will sufficeTo force a river from the public eyes,Or, if he must be dead, oh! let the newsSpeak in astonish'd whispers: let it useSome phrase without a voice, and be so told,As if the labouring sense griev'd to unfoldIts doubtfull woe. Could not the public zealConquer the Fates, and save your's? Did the dartOf death, without a preface, pierce your heart?Welcome, sad weeds—but he that mourns for thee,Must bring an eye that can weep elegy.A look that would save blacks: whose heavy graceChides mirth, and bears a funeral in his face.Whose sighs are with such feeling sorrows blown,That all the air he draws returns a groan.Thou needst no gilded tomb—thy memory,Is marble to itself—the braveryOf jem or rich enamel is mis-spent—Thy noble corpse is its own monument!

Mr.Earles, Merton.

FOOTNOTES:[BR]William, third Earl of Pembroke, son of Henry, Earl of Pembroke, and Mary, sister to Sir Philip Sidney, was the elder brother of Earle's patron, and Chancellor of Oxford. He died at Baynard's castle, April 10, 1630.

[BR]William, third Earl of Pembroke, son of Henry, Earl of Pembroke, and Mary, sister to Sir Philip Sidney, was the elder brother of Earle's patron, and Chancellor of Oxford. He died at Baynard's castle, April 10, 1630.

[BR]William, third Earl of Pembroke, son of Henry, Earl of Pembroke, and Mary, sister to Sir Philip Sidney, was the elder brother of Earle's patron, and Chancellor of Oxford. He died at Baynard's castle, April 10, 1630.

WRITTEN THIRTY YEARS SINCE, PRESENTLY AFTER HIS DEATH.

[From "Comedies and Tragedies written by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher, Gentlemen" folio. London. 1647.]

Beaumont lies here: And where now shall we haveA muse like his to sigh upon his grave?Ah! none to weep this with a worthy tear,But he that cannot,Beaumontthat lies here.Who now shall pay thy tomb with such a verseAs thou that lady's didst, fairRutland'sherse.A monument that will then lasting be,When all her marble is more dust than she.In thee all's lost: a sudden dearth and wantHath seiz'd on wit, good epitaphs are scant.We dare not write thy elegy, whilst each fearsHe ne'er shall match that copy of thy tears.Scarce in an age a poet, and yet heScarce live the third part of his age to see,But quickly taken off and only known,Is in a minute shut as soon as shown.Why should weak Nature tire herself in vainIn such a piece, to dash it straight again?Why should she take such work beyond her skill,Which, when she cannot perfect, she must kill?Alas! what is't to temper slime and mire?But Nature's puzzled when she works in fire.Great brains (like brightest glass) crack straight, while thoseOf stone or wood hold out, and fear not blows;And we their ancient hoary heads can seeWhose wit was never their mortality.Beaumontdies young, soSidneydid before,There was not poetry he could live to more,He could not grow up higher, I scarce knowIf th' art itself unto that pitch could grow,Were't not in thee that hadst arriv'd the heightOf all that wit could reach, or nature might.O when I read those excellent things of thine,Such strength, such sweetness couched in ev'ry line,Such life of fancy, such high choice of brain,Nought of the vulgar wit or borrow'd strain,Such passion, such expressions meet my eye,Such wit untainted with obscenity,And these so unaffectedly exprest,All in a language purely flowing drest,And all so born within thyself, thine own,So new, so fresh, so nothing trod upon:I grieve not now that oldMenander'sveinIs ruin'd to survive in thee again;Such, in his time, was he of the same piece,The smooth, even, nat'ral wit and love of Greece.Those few sententious fragments shew more worth,Than all the poets Athens e'er brought forth;And I am sorry we have lost those hoursOn them, whose quickness comes far short of ours,And dwell not more on thee, whose ev'ry pageMay be a pattern for their scene and stage.I will not yield thy works so mean a praise;More pure, more chaste, more sainted than are plays:Nor with that dull supineness to be read,To pass a fire, or laugh an hour in bed.How do the Muses suffer every where,Taken in such mouth's censure, in such ears,That 'twixt a whiff, a line or two rehearse,And with their rheume together spaul a verse?This all a poem's leisure after play,Drink, or tobacco, it may keep the day:Whilst ev'n their very idleness they thinkIs lost in these, that lose their time in drink.Pity then dull we, we that better know,Will a more serious hour on thee bestow.Why should notBeaumontin the morning please,As well asPlautus,Aristophanes?Who, if my pen may as my thoughts be free,Were scurril wits and buffoons both to thee;Yet these our learned of severest browWill deign to look on, and to note them too,That will defy our own, 'tis English stuff,And th' author is not rotten long enough,Alas! what phlegm are they compar'd to thee,In thyPhilaster, andMaid's-Tragedy?Where's such a humour as thyBessus? prayLet them put all theirThrasoesin one play,He shall out-bid them; their conceit was poor,All in a circle of a bawd or whore;A coz'ning dance; take the fool awayAnd not a good jest extant in a play.Yet these are wits, because they'r old, and nowBeing Greek and Latin, they are learning too:But those their own times were content t'allowA thirsty fame, and thine is lowest now.But thou shalt live, and, when thy name is grownSix ages older, shall be better known,When th' art ofChaucer'sstanding in the tomb,Thou shalt not share, but take up all his room.

Beaumont lies here: And where now shall we haveA muse like his to sigh upon his grave?Ah! none to weep this with a worthy tear,But he that cannot,Beaumontthat lies here.Who now shall pay thy tomb with such a verseAs thou that lady's didst, fairRutland'sherse.A monument that will then lasting be,When all her marble is more dust than she.In thee all's lost: a sudden dearth and wantHath seiz'd on wit, good epitaphs are scant.We dare not write thy elegy, whilst each fearsHe ne'er shall match that copy of thy tears.Scarce in an age a poet, and yet heScarce live the third part of his age to see,But quickly taken off and only known,Is in a minute shut as soon as shown.Why should weak Nature tire herself in vainIn such a piece, to dash it straight again?Why should she take such work beyond her skill,Which, when she cannot perfect, she must kill?Alas! what is't to temper slime and mire?But Nature's puzzled when she works in fire.Great brains (like brightest glass) crack straight, while thoseOf stone or wood hold out, and fear not blows;And we their ancient hoary heads can seeWhose wit was never their mortality.Beaumontdies young, soSidneydid before,There was not poetry he could live to more,He could not grow up higher, I scarce knowIf th' art itself unto that pitch could grow,Were't not in thee that hadst arriv'd the heightOf all that wit could reach, or nature might.O when I read those excellent things of thine,Such strength, such sweetness couched in ev'ry line,Such life of fancy, such high choice of brain,Nought of the vulgar wit or borrow'd strain,Such passion, such expressions meet my eye,Such wit untainted with obscenity,And these so unaffectedly exprest,All in a language purely flowing drest,And all so born within thyself, thine own,So new, so fresh, so nothing trod upon:I grieve not now that oldMenander'sveinIs ruin'd to survive in thee again;Such, in his time, was he of the same piece,The smooth, even, nat'ral wit and love of Greece.Those few sententious fragments shew more worth,Than all the poets Athens e'er brought forth;And I am sorry we have lost those hoursOn them, whose quickness comes far short of ours,And dwell not more on thee, whose ev'ry pageMay be a pattern for their scene and stage.I will not yield thy works so mean a praise;More pure, more chaste, more sainted than are plays:Nor with that dull supineness to be read,To pass a fire, or laugh an hour in bed.How do the Muses suffer every where,Taken in such mouth's censure, in such ears,That 'twixt a whiff, a line or two rehearse,And with their rheume together spaul a verse?This all a poem's leisure after play,Drink, or tobacco, it may keep the day:Whilst ev'n their very idleness they thinkIs lost in these, that lose their time in drink.Pity then dull we, we that better know,Will a more serious hour on thee bestow.Why should notBeaumontin the morning please,As well asPlautus,Aristophanes?Who, if my pen may as my thoughts be free,Were scurril wits and buffoons both to thee;Yet these our learned of severest browWill deign to look on, and to note them too,That will defy our own, 'tis English stuff,And th' author is not rotten long enough,Alas! what phlegm are they compar'd to thee,In thyPhilaster, andMaid's-Tragedy?Where's such a humour as thyBessus? prayLet them put all theirThrasoesin one play,He shall out-bid them; their conceit was poor,All in a circle of a bawd or whore;A coz'ning dance; take the fool awayAnd not a good jest extant in a play.Yet these are wits, because they'r old, and nowBeing Greek and Latin, they are learning too:But those their own times were content t'allowA thirsty fame, and thine is lowest now.But thou shalt live, and, when thy name is grownSix ages older, shall be better known,When th' art ofChaucer'sstanding in the tomb,Thou shalt not share, but take up all his room.

John Earle.

OF THE

Εικων Βασιλικη.

"Serenissimo et Potentissimo Monarchæ, Carolo Secundo. Dei Gratia Magnæ Britanniæ, Franciæ et Hiberniæ Regi, Fidei Defensori, &c.

Serenissime Rex,

Prodeat jam sub tuis auspiciis illa patris tui gloriosissimi imago, illa quâ magis ad Dei similitudinem, quàm quà Rex aut homo accedit. Prodeat vero eo colore peregrino, quo facta omnibus conspectior fiat publica. Ita enim tu voluisti, ut sic lingua omnium communi orbi traderem, in qua utinam feliciorem tibi operam navare licuisset, ut illam nativam elegantiam, illam vim verborum et lumina, illam admirabilem sermonis structuram exprimerem. Quod cum fieri (fortasse nec a peritissimis) à me certè non possit, præstat interim ut cum aliqua venustatis injuria magnam partem Europæ alloquatur, quam intra paucos suæ gentis clausa apud cæteros omnes conticescat. Sunt enim hic velut quædam Dei magnalia quæ spargi expedit humano generi, et in omnium linguis exaudiri: id pro mea facultate curavi, ut si non sensa tanti authoris ornatè, at perspicuè et fidè traderem, imo nec ab ipsa dictioneet phrasi (quantum Latini idiomatis ratio permittit) vel minimum recederem. Sacri enim codicis religiosum esse decet interpretem: et certe proxime ab illo sacro et adorando codice, (qui in has comparationes non cadit,)speranon me audacem futurum, si dixero nullum inter cæteros mortalium, vel autore vel argumento illustriorem, vel in quo viva magis pietas et eximie Christiana spiratur.

Habet vero sanctitas regia nescio quid ex fortunæ suæ majestate sublimius quiddain et augustius, et quæ imperium magis obtinet in mentes hominum, et reverentia majore accipitur: quare et his maxime instrumentis usus est Deus, qui illam partem sacræ paginæ ad solennem Dei cultum pertinentem, psalmos scilicet, et hymnos: cæteraque ejusmodi perpetuis ecclesiæ usibus inservitura, transmitterent hominibus, et auctoritatem quandam conciliarent. Quid quod libentius etiam arripiunt homines sic objectam et traditam pietatem. Quod et libro huic evenit, et erit magis eventurum, quo jam multo diffusior plures sui capaces invenerit.

Magnum erat profecto sic meditari, sic scribere; multo majus sic vivere, sic mori: ut sit hæc pene nimia dictu pietas exemplo illius superata. Scit hæc illa orbis pars miserrima jam et contaminatissima. Utinam hanc maturius intellexissent virtutem, quam jam sero laudant, et admirantur amissam, nec illâ opus fuisset dirâ fornace, quâ tam eximia regis pietas exploraretur, ex qua nos tantum miseri facti sumus, ille omnium felicissimus; cujus illa pars vitæ novissima et ærumnosissima et supremus dies, (in quo hominibus, et angelis spectaculum factus stetit animo excelso et interrito, summum fidei, constantiæ, patientiæ exemplar, superior malis suis, et totâ simulconjestâinferni malitiâ) omnes omnium triumphos et quicquid est humanæ gloriæ,susuperavit.Nihil egistis O quot estis, hominum! (sed nolo libro sanctissimo quicquam tetrius præfari, nec qaos ille inter preces nominat, maledicere) nihil, inquam, egistis hoc parricidio, nisi quod famam illius et immortalitatem cum æterno vestro probro et scelere conjunxistis. Nemo unquam ab orbe condito tot veris omnium lacrymis, tot sinceris laudibus celebratus est. Nulli unquam principum in secundis agenti illos fictos plausus vel metus dedit, vel adulatio vendidit, quàm hic verissimos expressere fuga, carcer, theatrum et illa omnium funestissima securis, qua obstupe, fecit hostes moriens et cæsus triumphavit.

Tu interim (Rex augustissime) vera et viva patris effigies, (cujus inter summas erat felicitates humanas, et in adversis solatium te genuisse, in quo superstite mori non potest) inflammeris maxime hoc mortis illius exemplo, non tam in vindictæ cupidinem, (in quem alii te extimulent, non ego) quam in heroicæ virtutis, et constantiæ zelum: hanc vero primum adeas quam nulla vis tibi invito eripiet, hæreditariam pietatem; et quo es in tuos omnes affectu maxime philostorgo, hunc librum eodem tecum genitore satum amplectere; dic sapientiæ, soror mea es, et prudentiam affinem voca; hanc tu consule, hanc frequens meditare, hanc imbibe penitus, et in animam tuam transfunde. Vides in te omnium conjectos oculos, in te omnium bonorum spes sitas, ex te omnium vitas pendere, quas jamdiu multi tædio projecissent, nisi ut essent quas tibi impenderent. Magnum onus incumbit, magna urget procella, magna expectatio, major omnium, quam quæ unquam superius, virtutum necessitas: an sit regnum amplius in Britannia futurum, an religio, an homines, an Deus, ex tua virtute, tua fortuna dependet: immo, sola potius ex Deo fortuna; cujus opem quo magis hic necessariam agnoscis, præsentaneam requiris, eo magis magisque, (quod jam facis)omni pietatis officio promerearis: et illa quæ in te largè sparsit bonitatis, prudentiæ, temperantiæ, justitiæ, et omnis regiæ virtutis semina foveas, augeas, et in fructum matures, ut tibi Deus placatus et propitius, quod detraxit patri tuo felicitatis humanæ, tibi adjiciat, et omnes illius ærumnas conduplicatis in te beneficiis compenset, et appelleris ille restaurator, quem te unicé optant omnes et sperant futurum, et ardentissimis precibus expetit.

Majestatis tuæ humillimus devotissimusque subditus et sacellanus,

Jo. Earles.

[Written by Dr. Earle, then Dean of Westminster.]

Depositum MortalePetri Heylyn, S. Th. D.Hujus Ecclesiæ Prebendarii et Subdecani,Viri plane memorabilis,Egregiis dotibus instructissimi,Ingenio acri et fœcundo,Judicio subacto,Memoria ad prodigium tenaci,Cui adjunxit incredibilem in studiis patientiamQuæ cessantibus oculis non cessarunt.Scripsit varia et plurima,Quæ jam manibus hominum teruntur;Et argumentis non vulgaribusStylo non vulgari suffecit.Et Majestatis Regiæ assertorNec florentis magis utriusqueQuàm afflictæ,Idemque perduellium et scismaticæ factionisImpugnator acerrimus.Contemptor invidiæEt animo infractoPlura ejusmodi meditantiMors indixit silentium:Ut sileaturEfficere non potest.Obiit Anno Ætatis 63, et 8 die Maii, A. D. 1662.Possuit hoc illi mæstissima conjux.

FOOTNOTES:[BS]Peter Heylin was born at Burford, in Oxfordshire, Nov. 29, 1599 and received the rudiments of his education at the free school in that place, from whence he removed to Harthall, and afterwards obtained a fellowship at Magdalen College, Oxford. By the interposition of Bishop Laud, to whom he was recommended by Lord Danvers, he was presented first to the rectory of Hemingford, in Huntingdonshire, then to a prebend of Westminster, and lastly to the rectory of Houghton in the Spring, in the diocese of Durham, which latter he exchanged for Alresford, in Hampshire. In 1633 he proceeded D. D. and in 1638, became rector of South Warnborough, Hampshire, by exchange with Mr. Atkinson, of St. John's College, for Islip, in Oxfordshire. In 1640 he was chosen clerk of the convocation for Westminster, and in 1642 followed the king to Oxford. After the death of Charles, he lost all his property, and removing with his family from place to place, subsisted by the exercise of his pen till the Restoration, when he regained his livings, and was made sub-dean of Westminster. His constancy and exertions were supposed by many to merit a higher reward, from a government, in whose defence he had sacrificed every prospect; but the warmth of his temper, and his violence in dispute, were such as rendered his promotion to a higher dignity in the church impolitic in the opinion of the ministers. He died May 8, 1662, and was interred in Westminster-abbey, under his own stall. A list of his numerous publications, as well as a character of him, may be found in Wood'sAthenæ Oxonienses, ii. 275.

[BS]Peter Heylin was born at Burford, in Oxfordshire, Nov. 29, 1599 and received the rudiments of his education at the free school in that place, from whence he removed to Harthall, and afterwards obtained a fellowship at Magdalen College, Oxford. By the interposition of Bishop Laud, to whom he was recommended by Lord Danvers, he was presented first to the rectory of Hemingford, in Huntingdonshire, then to a prebend of Westminster, and lastly to the rectory of Houghton in the Spring, in the diocese of Durham, which latter he exchanged for Alresford, in Hampshire. In 1633 he proceeded D. D. and in 1638, became rector of South Warnborough, Hampshire, by exchange with Mr. Atkinson, of St. John's College, for Islip, in Oxfordshire. In 1640 he was chosen clerk of the convocation for Westminster, and in 1642 followed the king to Oxford. After the death of Charles, he lost all his property, and removing with his family from place to place, subsisted by the exercise of his pen till the Restoration, when he regained his livings, and was made sub-dean of Westminster. His constancy and exertions were supposed by many to merit a higher reward, from a government, in whose defence he had sacrificed every prospect; but the warmth of his temper, and his violence in dispute, were such as rendered his promotion to a higher dignity in the church impolitic in the opinion of the ministers. He died May 8, 1662, and was interred in Westminster-abbey, under his own stall. A list of his numerous publications, as well as a character of him, may be found in Wood'sAthenæ Oxonienses, ii. 275.

[BS]Peter Heylin was born at Burford, in Oxfordshire, Nov. 29, 1599 and received the rudiments of his education at the free school in that place, from whence he removed to Harthall, and afterwards obtained a fellowship at Magdalen College, Oxford. By the interposition of Bishop Laud, to whom he was recommended by Lord Danvers, he was presented first to the rectory of Hemingford, in Huntingdonshire, then to a prebend of Westminster, and lastly to the rectory of Houghton in the Spring, in the diocese of Durham, which latter he exchanged for Alresford, in Hampshire. In 1633 he proceeded D. D. and in 1638, became rector of South Warnborough, Hampshire, by exchange with Mr. Atkinson, of St. John's College, for Islip, in Oxfordshire. In 1640 he was chosen clerk of the convocation for Westminster, and in 1642 followed the king to Oxford. After the death of Charles, he lost all his property, and removing with his family from place to place, subsisted by the exercise of his pen till the Restoration, when he regained his livings, and was made sub-dean of Westminster. His constancy and exertions were supposed by many to merit a higher reward, from a government, in whose defence he had sacrificed every prospect; but the warmth of his temper, and his violence in dispute, were such as rendered his promotion to a higher dignity in the church impolitic in the opinion of the ministers. He died May 8, 1662, and was interred in Westminster-abbey, under his own stall. A list of his numerous publications, as well as a character of him, may be found in Wood'sAthenæ Oxonienses, ii. 275.

[See Kennet's Register, folio, Lond. 1723, page 713.]

MR. BAXTER TO DR. EARLE."REVEREND SIR,"By the great favour of my lord chancellor's reprehension, I came to understand how long a time I have suffered in my reputation with my superiors by your misunderstanding me, and misinforming others; as if when I was to preach before the king, I had scornfully refused the tippet as a toy; when, as the Searcher and Judge of Hearts doth know, that I had no such thought or word. I was so ignorant in those matters as to think that a tippet had been a proper ensign of a doctor of divinity, and I verily thought that you offered it me as such: and I had so much pride as to be somewhat ashamed when you offered it me, that I must tell you my want of such degrees; and therefore gave you no answer to your first offer, but to your second was forced to say, "It belongeth not to me, Sir." And I said not to you any more; nor had any other thought in my heart than with some shame to tell you that I had no degrees, imagining I should have offended others, and made myself the laughter or scorn of many, if I should have usedthat which did not belong to me. For I must profess that I had no more scruple to wear a tippet than a gown, or any comely garment. Sir, though this be one of the smallest of all the mistakes which of late have turned to my wrong, and I must confess that my ignorance gave you the occasion, and I am far from imputing it to any ill will in you, having frequently heard, that in charity, and gentleness, and peaceableness of mind you are very eminent; yet because I must not contemn my estimation with my superiors, I humbly crave that favour and justice of you, (which I am confident you will readily grant me,) as to acquaint those with the truth of this business, whom, upon mistake, you have misinformed, whereby in relieving the innocence of your brother, you will do a work of charity and justice, and therefore not displeasing unto God, and will much oblige,Sir,Your humble servant,Richard Baxter.June 20, 1662.P. S.I have the more need of your justice in this case, because my distance denieth me access to those that have received these misreports, and because any public vindication of myself, whatever is said of me, is taken as an unsufferable crime, and therefore I am utterly incapable of vindicating my innocency, or remedying their mistakes."To the reverend and much honoured Dr. Earles,Dean of Westminster, &c. These."

MR. BAXTER TO DR. EARLE.

"REVEREND SIR,

"By the great favour of my lord chancellor's reprehension, I came to understand how long a time I have suffered in my reputation with my superiors by your misunderstanding me, and misinforming others; as if when I was to preach before the king, I had scornfully refused the tippet as a toy; when, as the Searcher and Judge of Hearts doth know, that I had no such thought or word. I was so ignorant in those matters as to think that a tippet had been a proper ensign of a doctor of divinity, and I verily thought that you offered it me as such: and I had so much pride as to be somewhat ashamed when you offered it me, that I must tell you my want of such degrees; and therefore gave you no answer to your first offer, but to your second was forced to say, "It belongeth not to me, Sir." And I said not to you any more; nor had any other thought in my heart than with some shame to tell you that I had no degrees, imagining I should have offended others, and made myself the laughter or scorn of many, if I should have usedthat which did not belong to me. For I must profess that I had no more scruple to wear a tippet than a gown, or any comely garment. Sir, though this be one of the smallest of all the mistakes which of late have turned to my wrong, and I must confess that my ignorance gave you the occasion, and I am far from imputing it to any ill will in you, having frequently heard, that in charity, and gentleness, and peaceableness of mind you are very eminent; yet because I must not contemn my estimation with my superiors, I humbly crave that favour and justice of you, (which I am confident you will readily grant me,) as to acquaint those with the truth of this business, whom, upon mistake, you have misinformed, whereby in relieving the innocence of your brother, you will do a work of charity and justice, and therefore not displeasing unto God, and will much oblige,

Sir,

Your humble servant,

Richard Baxter.

June 20, 1662.

P. S.I have the more need of your justice in this case, because my distance denieth me access to those that have received these misreports, and because any public vindication of myself, whatever is said of me, is taken as an unsufferable crime, and therefore I am utterly incapable of vindicating my innocency, or remedying their mistakes.

"To the reverend and much honoured Dr. Earles,Dean of Westminster, &c. These."

DR EARLE, IN REPLY.

Hampton-Court, June 23."Sir,O that they were all such.—Note by Mr. Baxter."I received your letter, which I would have answered sooner, if the messenger that brought it had returned. I must confess I was a little surprized with the beginning of it, as I was with your name; but when I read further I ceased to be so. Sir, I should be heartily sorry and ashamed to be guilty of any thing like malignity or uncharitableness, especially to one of your condition, with whom, though I concur not perhaps in point of judgment in some particulars, yet I cannot but esteem for your personal worth and abilities; and, indeed, your expressions in your letter are so civil and ingenuous, that I am obliged thereby the more to give you all the satisfaction I can.These words I heard not, being in the passage from him.—Note by Mr. Baxter.As I remember, then, when you came to me to the closet, and I told you I would furnish you with a tippet, you answered me something to that purpose as you write, but whether the same numerical words, or but once, I cannot possibly say from my own memory, and therefore I believe yours. Only this I am sure of, that I said to you at my second speaking, that some others of your persuasion had not scrupled at it, which might suppose (if you had not affirmed the contrary), that you had made me a formal refusal; of which giving me then no other reason than that "it belonged not to you," I concluded that you were more scrupulous than others were. And, perhaps, the manner of your refusing it (as it appeared to me) might make me think you were not verywell pleased with the motion. And this it is likely I might say, either to my lord chancellor or others; though seriously I do not remember that I spake to my lord chancellor at all concerning it. But, sir, since you give me now that modest reason for it, (which, by the way, is no just reason in itself, for a tippet may be worn without a degree, though a hood cannot; and it is no shame at all to want these formalities for him that wanteth not the substance,) but, sir, I say, since you give that reason for your refusal, I believe you, and shall correct that mistake in myself, and endeavour to rectify it in others, if any, upon this occasion, have misunderstood you. In the mean time I shall desire your charitable opinion of myself, which I shall be willing to deserve upon any opportunity that is offered me to do you service, being, sir,Your very humble servant,Jo. Earles.""To my honoured friend, Mr. Richard Baxter, These."

Hampton-Court, June 23.

"Sir,

O that they were all such.—Note by Mr. Baxter.

"I received your letter, which I would have answered sooner, if the messenger that brought it had returned. I must confess I was a little surprized with the beginning of it, as I was with your name; but when I read further I ceased to be so. Sir, I should be heartily sorry and ashamed to be guilty of any thing like malignity or uncharitableness, especially to one of your condition, with whom, though I concur not perhaps in point of judgment in some particulars, yet I cannot but esteem for your personal worth and abilities; and, indeed, your expressions in your letter are so civil and ingenuous, that I am obliged thereby the more to give you all the satisfaction I can.

These words I heard not, being in the passage from him.—Note by Mr. Baxter.

As I remember, then, when you came to me to the closet, and I told you I would furnish you with a tippet, you answered me something to that purpose as you write, but whether the same numerical words, or but once, I cannot possibly say from my own memory, and therefore I believe yours. Only this I am sure of, that I said to you at my second speaking, that some others of your persuasion had not scrupled at it, which might suppose (if you had not affirmed the contrary), that you had made me a formal refusal; of which giving me then no other reason than that "it belonged not to you," I concluded that you were more scrupulous than others were. And, perhaps, the manner of your refusing it (as it appeared to me) might make me think you were not verywell pleased with the motion. And this it is likely I might say, either to my lord chancellor or others; though seriously I do not remember that I spake to my lord chancellor at all concerning it. But, sir, since you give me now that modest reason for it, (which, by the way, is no just reason in itself, for a tippet may be worn without a degree, though a hood cannot; and it is no shame at all to want these formalities for him that wanteth not the substance,) but, sir, I say, since you give that reason for your refusal, I believe you, and shall correct that mistake in myself, and endeavour to rectify it in others, if any, upon this occasion, have misunderstood you. In the mean time I shall desire your charitable opinion of myself, which I shall be willing to deserve upon any opportunity that is offered me to do you service, being, sir,

Your very humble servant,

Jo. Earles."

"To my honoured friend, Mr. Richard Baxter, These."

IN STREGLETHORP CHURCH, NEAR NEWARK-UPON-TRENT, IN LINCOLNSHIRE.

[From Le Neve'sMonumenta Anglicana[BT]. 8vo. Lond. 1718. vol. iii. p. 182.]

Stay, reader, and observe Death's partial doom,A spreading virtue in a narrow tombe;A generous mind, mingled with common dust,Like burnish'd steel, cover'd, and left to rust.Dark in the earth he lyes, in whom did shineAll the divided merits of his line.The lustre of his name seems faded here,No fairer star in all that fruitful sphere.In piety and parts extreamly bright,Clear was his youth, and fill'd with growing light,A morn that promis'd much, yet saw no noon;None ever rose so fast, and set so soon.All lines of worth were centered here in one,Yet see, he lies in shades whose life had none.

Stay, reader, and observe Death's partial doom,A spreading virtue in a narrow tombe;A generous mind, mingled with common dust,Like burnish'd steel, cover'd, and left to rust.Dark in the earth he lyes, in whom did shineAll the divided merits of his line.The lustre of his name seems faded here,No fairer star in all that fruitful sphere.In piety and parts extreamly bright,Clear was his youth, and fill'd with growing light,A morn that promis'd much, yet saw no noon;None ever rose so fast, and set so soon.All lines of worth were centered here in one,Yet see, he lies in shades whose life had none.

But while the mother this sad structure rears,}A double dissolution there appears—He into dust dissolves, she into tears.

Richardus Earle[BU], Barntus.Obijt decimo tertio dieAugtiAnno Dom. 1697.Ætatis suæ 24.


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