selections from tlze works of me fimt duke and … · ous monuments, will seem to b e that...
TRANSCRIPT
THESE
CHIEFLY THE THOUGHTS
A NOBLE HONOURABLE AND VIRTUOUS WOMAN
ARE
gk ffz z tinn atz lg gast r ih z b
TO
MY WIFE
CO N T EN T S .
IN TRODUCTORY ESSA Y
TOBIOGRAPH Y OF THE MARCHIONESS OF
S TLE
EM S BY THE D UCHESS OF NEWCASTLE
M ISCELLANEOUS POEM S
POEM S BY THE D UKE OF N EWCA STLE
(fi LE GORIES , E TC, BY THE DUCHESS
CTION S THE ‘ CCX I LETTERS ’
OF
THE DUCHESS
INDEX
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY .
$0 th e visitor at We stminster Abbey,not th e least striking
,among its many
curious monuments, will seem to b e that
prominent tomb in th e North transept, which
so quaintly perpe tuate s th e memory and
virtue s‘
of th e Duke and Duchess of Newcastle .
Beneath its Corinthian entablature , supported
by black marble p illars, lie side by side th e
stony pre sentments of a Cavalier and his
Lady : h e grasps a truncheon,sh e a book— th e
latter emblem of th e greate st power . And this
is th e legend
Heif e Lyes th e Loyal!Duk e of N ewcastle
A n a’nis Date/zes nis seeon a
’wif e, 5} wnon ze
ne liaa’n oe issue h er n ame was M arg ar ett
Laeas, young est sister to tae Lot/a
7Laoas
of Colonester , a n oble f aneiZie : f or all t/ie
B 2
INTRODUCTOR Y ESSA Y.
Br oth ers wer e valian t,an a
’all th e S ister s
vir tuous . Th is Dutch es was a wise,wittie
an a’ Lear n ea’ Laa
’
y,wh ich h er many Booh s
a’
oe well testifie : S h e was a most Vir tuous
an a’a loving and car ef ul wif e and was
with h er Lord all th e time of h is ban ish
men t and miser ies and wh en h e came
h ome n ever par ted f rom h im in h is solitary
retir emen t.
A few antiquarians,bibliographers and
students of history will,as they read th e name s,
recall th e romantic and changeful fortune s
of th e man whose effigy lie s before them,
or will smile at th e marble book supporting
th e hand of th e marble . Duche ss, with th e
thought mayhap that it we re as well left
pe trified and unsealed to after generations .
He re lie s a man th e vici ssitude s of whose
life were l ike th e change s of an April sk y, a
man ennobled,through his constancy and
chivalry beyond any rank of pee rage , by that
title of th e Loyall Duhe.
Here l ie s Margare t Cavendish, ‘wise , wittie
and Learned , which h er many Books doe well
testifie’— authore ss of thirteen tome s
,and more
happily not printed, friend and patrone ss of
not a few great men,flattered by Hobbe s and
Kene lm Digby : by Ben Jonson in smooth
ve rse s : by th e Universities in rugged rhyme s °
yet, I warrant, few have ever seen on e of
h er fo lio s,and hardly any on e ever reads
them . Many of them are rarer than gold ;while clever wit has long ago assayed them
as coin uncurrent on th e’ change of literature .
Perhaps I have read them more and oftener
than any curious bookworm of the se days, and
amongst sad heaps of rubbish it has seemed
to me there are a few treasure s we ll worth th e
disinterment .
Every on e will remember Lamb ’s extravagant
praise in Elia of Her Grace ’s writing : Where
a book i s at once both good and rare ; where
th e individual i s almost th e specie s , and when
that pe rishe s,
We kn ow n ot wh ere is th at Prometh ean torch
Th at can its lig h t relumin e.
Such a book,for instance
,as th e Life of th e
Duke of Newcastle , by his Duchess— no caske t
i s rich enough,no casing sufficiently durable
,
to honour and keep safe such a jewe l . ’ And
again,What moved thee
,wayward
,spiteful
K,to b e so importunate to carry off with thee
in spite of tears and adjurations to thee to
forbear, th e Le tters of that prince ly woman ,th e thrice noble Margaret Newcastle ? Then ,
worst cut of all ! to transpor t i t with thee
to th e Gallican land
Unworth y land to h arb our such a sweetn ess,
A virtue in wh ich all en n ob lin g th oug h ts dwelt,
Pure th oug h ts, k ind th oug h ts, h igh th ough ts, h er
sex’
s wonder
I remembe r when I read this I had that
first-mentioned jewe l lying in a dirty buff
caske t on my she lf, and'
speedily approved
th e prejudice of th e e ssayist, on e shared by
his greate r friend Coleridge . This musty tome
of mine has passed through seve ral hands, wit
ness crest and monogram ,and by on e of them ,
nearly two centuries since , I see has be en in
scribed on th e fly- leaf the se l ine s from th e Noble
Lady’s Poems and Fancie s
Wh en th at a Book doth from th e Press come n ew,
All b uyes or b orrows it, th is Book to view :
N ot out of love of Learn in g or of Wit,But to find faults th at th ey may cen sure it .
Wh en th ere’
s n o faults for to b e found th erein
As few th ere are but do err in some th in g ,
Yet Malice with h er ran kled Spleen and Spig h t,
Will at th e Time or Prin t or Bindin g b ite :
Lik e Devills wh en th ey can n ot g ood Soules g et,
Th en on th e Bodies th ey th eir Witch es set .
’
—From th e aspect of my book I judge th e
devils have devoted the ir malice to its body.
Then I resorted to Her Grace ’s Poems and
Fancies,’
th e CCXI Le tters,’
Th e World'
s O lio
and othe r works . It was often a discouraging
progre ss : Preface s+n umerous, a pologetic, re
mon strative , de fensive , discursive , grotesque
nine or ten of them sometime s interspersed
through a volume : ‘Philosophical Opinions,’
madder than those of Alexandrian gnostic or
mediaeval dreamer Tales in Prose and Verse
Nature ’s Picture s drawn by Ph an cie’s Pencil
a we ird, rude instrument, I warrant you : plays ,dialogue s, orations
,le tters
,verses on atoms
prose about atoms , allegorie s, more Opinions,more prefaces— if there b e a type of chaos
[N TRODUCTORY ESSA Y.
or a chao s of type in literature,i t i s in
the se thirteen folio s . Had I opened first
on h er ‘ philosophy,
’
I could scarce ly have
refused full credit to h er own declaration
‘Wh en I did write th is b ook I took g reat pain s,For I did walk and th in k and b reak my b rain s .
’
N everth eless,wh erever on e reads in th e Duchess ’s
books, h e finds th e tokens of a lively, vigorous,exuberant fancy and an ingenious wit : he re and
there good stroke s of dry, sarcastic humour :
often thoughts of great force and beauty : and
anon many fe lic itous turns of expre ssion . There
are th e indisputable evidence s of a genius as high
born in th e realms of inte llect as its posse ssor
was exalted in th e ranks of socie ty : a genius
strong-winged and swift, fertile and compre
h en sive but ruined by deficient culture , by liter
ary dissipation and th e absence of two powers
without which thoughts are only stray morse ls
of strength, I mean Concatenation and th e Sense
of Proportion . Sh e thought without system and
set down everything sh e thought . Her fancy
turning round like a kale idoscope changed its
IN TRODUCTORY ESSA y. 9
patterns and hues with th e most whimsical
variety and rapidity. Neverthe less I be lieve ,had th e mind of thi s woman been disciplined
and exerci sed by.early culture and study it
would have stood out remarkable amon g th e
feminine inte llects of our h i story. O n e book
only,and a portion of h er poem on Mirth and
Me lancholy,’ have met with modern approval .
Th e former was th e ‘Life of th e Duke of
Newcastle :’ th e latter was applauded in th e
Con n oisseur , in a well-kn own paper entitled‘A vision of Female Poe ts . ’
There exist, however, a ve ry few copies of a
brie f autobiography which was attached to th e
first edition of ‘Nature ’s Picture s,but was
immediately afterwards suppressed . It was
entitled, ‘A true Re lation of my Birth,Breed
ing and Life : Written by th e thrice Noble
Illustrious and Exce llent Prince ss,th e Lady
Marchioness of Newcastle,
’
was publi shed in1 656, and i s, in my opinion, th e happie st re l ic
of h er authorship. Th e narrative i s written
with unaffected naturalne ss and simpl icity : th e
characte r of h er mothe r i s drawn in line s so
noble and pleasing as to challenge for both
mother and daughte r th e admiration of pos
terity. It will in itse lf b e th e be st arg ument
for reviving Margare t Newcastle’s memory after
so long a trance .
Sh e was th e child of S ir Charle s Lucas,
whose e arly death left to his beautiful widow
th e care of seve ral sons and daughters .
Margare t was th e younge st and least lively of
th e family , a blue stocking from childhood .
Sh e te ll s us in an addre ss prefixed to th e
Duke ’s memoir, that ‘ it pleased God to com
mand his se rvant Nature to indue me with a
poe tical and philosophical genius even from my
birth ; . for I did write some books in that kind
hef or e was twelve years of ,ag e, which for want
of good me thod and order I would never
divulge . Had sh e been as wise at forty h e r
editor might have had more reason to com
mend h e r . Sh e was in 1 643 sent by h er own
de sire to th e court of Queen Henrie tta, but
h er pre cocious pedantry ill assorte'
d with
courtie r manners . Sh e re late s ve ry na’
ively h ow
h er bashful and reticent nature , h er gravity,
1 2 JN TRODUCTOR Y ESSA Y.
friend once congratulating Newcastle on th e
wisdom of h is wife,h e rejoined
,
‘S z’
r,a very
wise woman is a very foolish th ing .
’
I can
hardly be l ieve it : for th e Duke was a fin e
manne red gentleman and had too much re spect
for himse lf, if not for his wife , to have minted
epigrams at h er expense . Sh e was of grace ful
person,with re se rved and bashful manne rs,
talking rare ly in company. Her piety, charity
and g eneros ity we re eminent . Sh e was an
economist in th e household,treating h er at
tendan ts with great firmness and kindne ss .
Her exce llent le tte r on th e treatment of servants
i s doubtle ss a leaf from h er own expe rience .
Th e life of th e Duke i s historical and h e
i s th e subj ect of on e o f Clarendon’s fine st
portraits . Th e memoir written by th e Duchess
i s brief,containing only 1 1 9 page s of what
would now b e a small octavo : yet th e man,in th e incidents of his history, th e varie tie s of
his fortune s,th e habits of his private life , th e
strength and style of his thought,i s extreme ly
we ll depicted to us .
Inhe riting a baronetcy at fifteen, and by
[N TRop UCTOA’Y ESSA Y. 1 3
regular degree s attaining to th e highest honours
Open to a subject, S ir William Cavendish
evinced at all time s considerable tact and
some faculty for taking advantage of such
tide s of fortune as were suited to his genius
and capacity . His devotion to king and state,
his c ivalrous ene rgy and se lf-sacrifice,his brave
and able conduct in th e North, brighten th e
page s of a me lancholy history. But his inte llect
was n ot vigorous,nor did his taste s incline
him to political and martial arenas ."A very
fin e gentleman,’ says Clarendon
,
‘ active and
full of courage , and most accompli shed in those
qualitie s of horsemanship, dancing, and fencing,which accompany a good breeding— amorous
of poe try and music .’ With these taste s h e
shrank from public affairs, was driven into them
by honour against his will,and was only too
glad when passion touching th e same fe eling
in another spot, afforded him,in an insult to
his pride , an excuse for abandoning them .
His mind was not powerful enough,and his
ambition n ot strong enough to impe l him to
persistent effort in great achievements . After
1 4 JN Tzeop UCTORY ESSA Y.
br illiant feats o f personal bravery or succe ssful
adventure s for th e royal cause , h e would'
shut
himse lf in with his music,and b e invisible to
his chie f officers for two or three days at a
time . No wonder Warburton styled him a
fan tastical vir tuoso on h or seback .
After th e battle of Marston Moor, ,ag itated
with apprehensions that th e Royal cause was
hope lessly lost, aware that for himse lf the re
was little mercy to b e expecte d from th e rebels,
and mortified by th e treatment which h e had
experienced from Prince Rup ert, h e le ft En gland
,with his sons and a small company of
friends, for Hamburgh . Only nine ty pounds
remained to him of all his vast wealth,and
with this,in th e words of
.
th e Duche ss,
‘ h e
re solved to seek his fortune .
’ Upon th e Con
tin en t h e was everywhere re spectfully rece ived
and entertained, as well for th e grandeur of his
former e state as for his noble gallantry of
demeanour . Th e freedom of towns was pre
sented to him,and prince s fe lt honoured in
showing him any civility. Though often re
duced to great straits h is cheerful disposition
[N M 00 UCTOR Y ESSA Y. 1 5
kept him from de spondency . Th e Duche ss
narrate s that,‘After my Lord was married,
having n o e state or means left him to maintain
himse lf and his family, h e was nece ssitated to
seek for credit and live upon th e courte sy of
those that we re pleased to trust him : which
although they did for some while and shewed
themse lve s very civil to my Lord, yet they
grew weary at length, insomuch that his steward
was forced on e time to te ll him that h e was
not able to provide a dinner for him,for his
creditors were re solved to trust him n o longer .
My Lord be ing always a gre at master of his
passions, was— at least shewed himse lf—not in
any manner troubled at it,but in a pleasant
humour told me that I must of necessity pawn
my clothe s to make so much money as would
procure a dinner .’
Th e Marquis,owing to
his winning manners,and ‘
th e chief ble ssing
of th e Eternal and Merciful God wh o ruled
th e hearts of men and filled them with charity
and compassion,’ was able to pass hi s long
exile in comparative comfort . Prince Charle s
dining with th e noble pair at Antwerp , laughingly
1 6 INTRODUCTORY ESSA Y.
told th e Duchess , That h e perce ived my Lord’s
credit could procure be tter meat than his own .
’
Newcastle , who was then th e first eque strian
in Europe , spent much of his time in perfecting
th e rule s of horsemanship . Th e exercise s of th e
menage , which are n ow le ft to grooms and to th e
circus were then th e manly and favourite amuse
ment of gentlemen of quality : and th e renown
of his sk ill attracted many pe rsons of distinction
to see th e Duke ’s performance s .‘ On e time
it happened that Don john of Austria came
to Antwe rp and staved there some few days '
and then almost all his court waited on my
Lord, so that on e day I reckoned about
seventeen coache s in which we re all pe rsons
of quality who came in th e morning o f pur
pose to see my Lord ’s menage . He wrote a
we ll - known treatise on horsemanship , said
to b e th e mo st eminent o f th e kind . It i s
a magnificent folio adorned with illustrations
of th e various exercise s . Seve ral curious
plate s of large size and fin e execution , after
o riginal s by D iepenbeke, are prefixed to th e
volume O n e of the se i s worth de scribing .
[A’
TA’ODUCTORY ESSA Y. 1 7
jupiter and th e gods and goddesse s are seated
in th e clouds watching th e Marquis, wh o,
mounted on Pegasus, i s rising in th e air, while
e leven horse s on the ir haunche s, with fore legs
and heads bent forward, offer him adoration
and submission . Beneath is this legend
11 mon te avec la main , les éperon s e t g aule ,
Le ch eval de Pégase qui volle en capriole ;
Il mon te si h aut qu’
il touch e de sa téte les cieux,
Et par ses merve illes ravit en exstases les Dieux .
Les ch evaux corruptib les qui la b as sur terre son t,
En courb ettes dem i-airs, te rre a terre von t,
Avec h umilité soumission et bassesse ,
L’
adorer comm e dieu auteur de leur addresse *
As h e had fore seen th e trouble s of th e Revolu
tion at a time when few began to suspe ct th e
dange r,
so in th e lowest condition of th e
Royal affairs h e ‘was neve r without , hope s of
se e ing before his death a happy issue of all
his misfortune s and sufferin gs,e spec ially th e
Restoration of his most Gracious King and
* Th ere is a splendid copy of th is g reat work in th e
G renville Lib rary. Its title is Le M e'
th ode N ouvelle de
dr esser les Cb eveaux , and it was pub lish ed in 1 658 . A fin e
edition was sub sequen tly prin ted in En gland.
1 8 INTRODUCTOR Y ESSA Y.
Maste r to his Throne and K ingly Rights . ’
At th e he ight of Cromwe l l’s glory th e Duke had
written a book in which h e predicted th e Re sto
ration as an infallible ce rtainty . He was among
th e first to repair to th e Hague to congratulate
th e King on th e re cove ry of his throne . Th e
Duche ss thus relate s his re turn to England‘My Lord , having set sail (in an old rotten
frigate that was lo st th e next voyage after)from Rotterdam
,was so be calmed that h e was
six days and six nights upon th e wate r, during
which time b e please d himse lf with mirth and
passed his time away as we l l as h e could ;
provis ions h e wanted not , having them in great
store and plenty . At last be ing come so far
that h e was able to di scern th e smoke of
London,which h e had n Ot seen for a long
time,h e merrily was p leased to de sire on e that
was near him to jog and awake him .out of
his dream, for sure ly, said h e,
I have been
sixteen ye ars asleep and am n ot thoroughly
awake yet. My Lord lay that night at Gre en
wich where his suppe r se emed more savoury
than any meat h e had eve r tasted ; and th e
ao [N TRODUCTOR Y ESSA Y.
humour h e eve r knew . He was always a
friend and patron of genius . Ben Jonson was
on e of his favourite s,and ‘ fitted such scene s
and spee che s as h e could be st devise ’ for th e
rare and extravagant ente rtainment on ce pre
pared by Cavendish for Charle s I . This fe”te
i s said to have cost him fourteen or fifteen
thousand pounds . Hobbe s was hi s visitor
and friend,and according to th e Duche ss,
adopted from him ideas for his ‘Leviathan .
’
S ir William Davenant,th e Poe t Laureate
acted as his master of th e horse ; and
parson Hudson , a ce lebrated D ivine , as his
scout-maste r. Th e characte r of th e Duke
sketched by Walpo le scarce ly needs to b e
no ticed . It is full of ill-nature and deficient
in truth .
‘Lord Clarendon,
’ says Brydge s ,‘ has drawn his portrait to th e l ife . On that
rock le t i t stand ; without any fear that it
can b e shaken by th e frivolous objections of
Lord Orford .
’
I have already touched gently upon th e
quality of th e Duche ss ’s mind and works .
In every page there are things offensive to
INTRODUCTOR Y ESSA Y. 2 1
a fastidious or even an ordinarily healthy taste .
Some time s we are disgusted by th e extreme
coarsene ss of h er image s and turns of ex
pression— a coarsene ss all th e more remarkable
because of th e singular purity of h er life .
Sh e had a surfe it of ideas,conce i ts
,odditie s
,
philosophical vagarie s and poetical fancie s,which sh e was wont to mingle in most
whimsical jumbles Like uncivilised tribe s
wh o e ithe r g o natural or array themse lve s in
grotesque habiliments , th e people of h e r mind
came forth in carele ss simplicity or heavy with
fantastic trappings . As on e of h er flatterers
equivocally said
‘Tiu th n ever was so n aked n or so dressed.
’
In th e‘Vision of Female Poe ts ’ h er heed
le ssness is amusingly satirized.
‘When sh e
came to mount, sh e sprang into th e saddlewith surprising agility ; and giving an entire
l oose to th e re ins,Pegasus dire ctly set up a
gallop and ran away with h er quite out of
sight. However, i t was acknowledged that sh e
kept a firm seat even when th e horse went at
2 2 [N TRODUCTORY ESSA Y.
his deepes t rate , and that sh e wanted nothing
but to ride with a curb bridle .
’
Th e vanity that here and there crops up
in h er writings is too simple and genuine to
b e offensive . It can hardly b e wondered at
that sh e should form a lofty e stimate of h e r
own poems , when sh e was flatte red by such
men as D igby, Hobbe s and Bishop Pearson .
There i s extant a curious fo l io of eulogie s
addre ssed to h e r by seve ral pe rsons . Some
are unique for absurd and audacious adulation .
Th e dons’
of Trinity wound up a florid epistle
with this compliment in th e form of an epitaph
‘To Margaret th e First
Prin cess of Ph ilosoph e rs
Wh o h ath dispelled e rrors :
Appeased th e diffe ren ce of opin ion sAnd restored Peace
To Learn in g’
s Commonwealth
A poe t, in a comme rcial ve in, asse rts that had
sh e lived in th e time of th e gods‘ Sh e would h ave quite en g rossed th e wo rsh ip trade,
Jove and h is kindred h ad b een b an k rupts made .
’
This was enough to turn anyone ’s head . In
[N TRODUCTORY ESSA Y. 2 3
an epistle to th e Duke sh e says that when h er
books first came out, th e world would not give h er
th e credit of having wri tten them : thinking ‘ that
those conceptions and fancie s transcended h er
capacity,’ and that sh e had pluckt feathe rs from
th e Universitie s .
’ Truly ‘ a very preposterous
judgment,
’ since sh e would neve r have gone we ll
in th e Unive rsity curriculum . Sh e has been
termed,by literary prigs,
‘th e Mad Duche ss,
’
an epithe t which grate s rathe r roughly on th e
feelings of on e wh o has come into contact with
h er gentle thoughts . If sh e had a madness,i t
was harmless : sh e he ld it in common with many
worse affected : it was authorship. Sh e had a
frenzy for creation,and was n ot ve ry careful
whe the r sh e produced a g oldfin ch or a tadpo le .
Th e temper was so inve terate,that sh e kept
some young ladie s constantly about h er personto do h er scribbling : and they slept near h er inorde r that at th e sound of a bell they might runto catch h er wakeful fancie s. Sh e could say,
with Aph rodisius in Dr. Beaumont’s ‘ Psyche ,
’
‘ Book s called me up and b ook s put m e to b ed ;’
—b ut th e books we re h er own . Sh e neve r
[JVTRODUCTOR Y ESSA Y.
studied ve ry deeply . As a child sh e wrote on
‘Philo sophy,
’ and at forty began to read books
in order to make acquaintance with its terms .
Some on e at Cambridge , commencing a tran sla
tion of h e r philo sophical Opinions into Latin ,gave up th e task in de spair . Whe the r h e was
captious or indolent may b e judged from a
specimen se lected at random
A n sin ews small b rain scattered lies ab out,
It wan ts b oth room and quan tity n o doub t .
For if a sin ew could so much b rain h old
O r h ad a skin so larg e for to in fold
As in th e sk ull : th en mig h t th e toe o r kn ee ,
Had th ey an Optic n erve , b o th h ear and see .
Had sin ews room fan cy th e rein to b reed,
Copies of verses m ig h t from th e h eel proceed !
These philosophical Op inions we re h er worst
foible : and the i r inte rspersion in h er works
has hope le ssly inj ured them for po ste ri ty.
Her Grace ’s poe try, which is objective in its
‘Fool. If a man’
s b rain s were in h is h eels, we re ’
t n ot
in dan g er Of k ib es
KING LEAR.
[N TJeoDUCTOA’Y ESSA Y. 2 5
characte r,though often extravagant and fre
quently spoiled by th e rudeness and care lessness
of th e versification ,i s rich in image and allegory.
Th e D ialogue be tween Mirth and Me lancholy,
’
is usually cited as th e be st apology'
for h er
existence . It i s n ot too much to say that it
rivals,in the ir particular line ,
‘L’Allegro ’ and
‘ Il Penseroso,
’
or th e we ll known apostropheprefixed by Burton to th e Anatomy of Melan
ch oly. But th e Duche ss falls far behind th e
Puritan in vy'
and bell- sounding verse s . Indeed
ne ithe r of the se melancho lic poems to my
judgment, come s up to th e little song in th e
‘ Nice Valour,
’ which is attributed to Beau
mont
Hen ce all you vain delig h ts,As sh ort as are th e n ig h ts
Wh erein you spend your folly!
Th ere’
s n oug h t in th is life sweetIf man we re wise to see
’
t
But on ly melan ch oly ;
O swee test m elan ch oly!
Welcome folded arm s and fixed eyes,
A sig h th at piercin g mo rtifies,
A look th at’
s fasten ed on th e g round,
A ton g ue ch ain ed up with out a sound !
2 6 INTRODUCTOR Y ESSA Y.
Foun tain h eads and path less g roves,
Places wh ich pale passion loves !
Moonligh t walk s wh ere all th e fowls
Are warmly h oused save bats and owls !
A m idn igh t b ell, a par tin g g roan
Th ese are th e sounds we fe ed upon ;
Th en stretch our b on es in a still, g loomy valley ;
N oth in g’
s so dain ty sweet as lovely melan ch oly
In th e ‘ Pastime O f th e Queen of th e Fairie s,’
we have a p iece , as Brydge s has said, worthy
O f Midsumme r Night’s Dream, and Milton
might have envied that song of th e Lady
Happy as a Sea-godde ss— so e thereal in its
fancy, so light and me lodious in i ts movement .
Th e lines
O n silve r waves I sit and sin g
And th en th e fish lie
are exquisite . Sh e had a vivi d perception o f
analogie s which sh e sometime s used with great
O riginality and e ffe ct . The re are specimens of
this in ‘Queen Mab’
s Tale ,’ as we ll as in th e
story‘
of Four SeasonsOf th e Year .’ Often h e r
fancie s are extreme ly delicate and ingenious ,as
,for instance , in th e ep ilogue to th e Pastime
O f th e Fairies . ’
2 8 LN TRODUCTORY ESSA Y.
conve rsational, pedantic dialogue s are to true
dramatic works as a Chine se landscape i s to
a Cuyp or a Turne r.
Th e l ittle prose‘Allegorie s ’ of th e Duche ss
,
t Jsuch as Death’ s Marriage ,’
are cleve r and unique .
The re i s a picture for an artist in that wedding
scene— where all th e Passions and Affe ctions,
Beauty, Pleasure , Youth, Wit, Prosperity are at
tendan ts of th e bride : but Health and S trength
stav away ; while a horrible train attends th e
bridegroom,for n on e th at Death ashed r efused to
come.
’ I t i s an Old story,but l imned in th e few
,
sharp (stroke s of true genius .
Our authoress’s Le tters and Essays prove that
sh e was a shrewd observe r of minds and manne rs,and might have been a satirist of conside rable
powe r . Her wit was quick and vigorous,though
it dropped its shafts with unguarded carele ssne ss .
Sh e had not even th e industry to chise l and pol ish
th e figure s h e r genius had invented . Neve rthe le ss
its powe r i s evident in numberle ss instance s.
Some of h er aphorisms are Baconian . For ex
ample :‘Wine, though i t begins like a friend,
goe s on like a fool , and most commonly ends
[N TRODUCTOR Y ESSA Y. 2 9
like a devil in a fury .
’ Or again : ‘Most men ’s
minds are insipid, having no balsamical virtue
there in they are as th e ter ra douin ata Of nature .
’
Th e ‘Essay on Fools ’ i s an admirable satire .
Th e captious foo l i s as a troubled water where
no beast can drink .
’
On e is startled with th e
tremendous and concentrated force of an epi
gram like this . I particularly like th e wisdom
of that e ssay on ‘Gentlewomen that are sent to
Boarding Schools .’
Th e Duche ss abstained on principle from
corre cting or revi sing h er books,
‘ le st it should
disturb h er following conceptions !’ Hence th e
patience of on e who reads th e original publica
tions is extremely racked by a multitude of patent
e rrors, ambiguitie s and solec isms, while his tastei s shocked by clumsy sentence s
,bad rhymes
and rugg ed verse s . I take th e liberty in pre
paring these se le ctions for modern eye s and
tastes, to perfo rm for th e Duche ss th e task sh e
should have undertaken for herself. Whe re , without ve ry se rious alte rations
,I could se e my way
to corre ct obvious e rrors,or improve th e text, I
have done so, though everywhere with a h esitat
3 0 INTRODUCTOR Y ESSA Y.
ing and care ful hand . To me i t seems a foolish
and inutile affectation to reproduce with too
ingenious care th e blunders of old authors and
th e monstro sitie s of the ir printers . Th e altera
tions I have ventured upon are few enough to
b e of no great consequence . Subj ect to this
explanation th e reader may find in the se page s
far more than has justified many mode rn re
productions of obsole te authors .
When we search th e trunk of oblivion for th e
muniments of genius we too o ften find them to
afford only de lusive evidence s o f rightful claims,or that th e force of them h as been cancelled by
th e lapse of time . Seldom do we , as in th e
case of th e Cavalier and.
his Lady, fall in with
parchments which are deeds of hone st genius,still conveying to posteri ty some worthy in
heritance .
A TRUE RELATION
MY BIRTH , BREEDING AND LIFE
WR ITTEN
BY THE THR ICE
N OBLE, ILLUSTRIOUS AND EXCELLENT
PRINCESS,THE
LADY MARCHIONESS OF NEWCASTLE.
1656 .
Relation ,
Y father was a gentleman ; which title
given and grounded by merit, not
by prince s ; and’tis th e act of time
not favour . And though my father was not a
peer of th e realm , yet the re were few peers wh o
had much greater e state s or lived more noble
therewith . Yet at that time great title s were to
b e sold, and not at so high rate s but that his
e state might have easily purchased on e,and h e
was pre st for to take ; but my father did n ot
e steem title s unless they we re gained by h eroick
actions,and th e kingdom be ing in a happy
peace with all other nations, and in itse lf be ing
gove rned by a wise king,K ing j ames, there were
no employments for h eroick spirits . Towards th e
latte r e nd of Queen Eliz aheth ’s re ign,as soon
as h e came to man'
s e state, h e unfortunately
fortunate ly killed on e Mr . Br oohs in a S ingle duel.
For my father by th e laws of honour could do
no less than call him to th e fie ld to que stion
him for an injury h e did him : where the ir
swords were to dispute and on e or both of
the ir l ive s to decide th e argument, where in my
fathe r had th e be tte r : and though my father by
honour challenged him,with valour fought him'
,
and in justice killed him, yet h e suffered more
than any person of quality usually doth in case s
of honour ; for though th e laws b e rigorous, ye t
th e pre sent prince s most commonly are gracious
in those misfortune s,e specially to th e injured .
But my father found it not,for his exile was
from th e time of hi s misfortune s to Queen
Elzaaheth’
s death . For th e Lord Cohh ain,be ing
then a great man with Queen Eliz aheth,and thi s
gentleman Mr. Br oohs a k irid o f a favourite and
as I take i t brothe r to th e then Lord Cobham ,
made Queen Eliz aheth so seve re as not to par
don him . But King j ames of ble ssed memory,graciously gave him his pardon and leave to
re turn home to his n ative country, whe re in h elived happily and died peaceably,leaving a wifeand e ight children, three sons and five daughters,
THE LIFE OF THE
to th e he ighth of h er e state,but not beyond
it. For we were SO far from being in debt
before the se wars, as we were rathe r beforehand with th e world : buying all with readv
money, not on th e score . For although after
my father’s death th e e state was divided be tween
my Mo ther and h er sons , paying such a sum
of money for portions to h er daughters e ithe r
at th e day of the ir marriage or when they
should come to ag e , yet by reason Sh e and
h er children agreed with a mutual consent,
all the ir affairs we re managed so we ll, as sh e
lived n ot in a much lowe r condition than when
my father lived .
’Tis true my Mother might
have increased h er daughte rs’ portions by a
thrifty sparing : yet sh e chose to be stow it on
our bre eding, hone st pleasure s and harmle ss
de lights : out Of an Opinion that if Sh e bred
us with,needy nece ssity it might chance to
create in us sharking qualitie s, mean thoughts,and base actions, which sh e knew my Father
as we ll as herse lf did abhor . Likewise we we re
bred tenderly, for my Mother naturally did strive
to please and de l ight h er children, not to cross
[VIARCHZ ONESS OF NEWCASTLE. 37
or torment them,terrifying them with threats
or lashing them with slavish whips ; but, instead
of threats, “W used toMpers
uade us ;and instead of lashes
,th e deformities
’ I
Of vice
we re discovered : and th e grace s and virtue s
were pre sented unto us. Also we were bred
with re spectful attendance , every on e be ing
severally waited upon : and all h er servants in
general used th e same re spect to h er children
(even those that Were very young) as they
did to herself ; for sh e suffered not h er
servants e ithe r to b e rude before us or to
dominee r over us , which all vulgar servants
are apt, and oftimes have leave to do . Sh e
neve r suffe red th e vulgar serving-men to b e
in th e nursery amon g th e nurse maids,le st
the i r rude love -making might do unseemly
actions or speak unhandsome words in th e
pre sence of h er children ; knowing that youth
is apt to take infection by ill example s, having
n ot th e reason to distinguish good from bad .
Ne ither were we suffered to have any familiarity
or conversation with th e vulgar servants : ye tsh e caused us to demean our se lve s “with an
38 THE LIFE OF THE
humble c ivil ity towards them,as they with a
dutiful re spect to us . Not because they we re
servants we re we so re served, for many noble
persons are forced to serve through nece ssity,but by re ason th e vulgar sort of se rvants are
as ill bred as meanly born , giving children ill
example s and worse counse l .
As for tutors, although we had all sorts of
virtuosos as for singing,dancing
,playing on
music, reading, writing, working and th e like , ye t
we were not kept strictly the re to : they we re
rathe r for formality than benefit : for my
Mother cared not so much for our dancing
and fiddling,Singing and pratin g of several
language s ; as that we should b e bred virtu
ously, mode stly, c ivilly, honourably and in hon
est principle s .
As for my brothers, of whom I had three, I
know not h ow they were bred. First,they
4“ O rig inally th is was prin ted alth oug h for all sorts of
vir tues b ut in th e copy attach ed to Tales in Prose and
V erse , in th e Kin g’
s Lib rary at th e British Museum , th e
Duch ess h as with h e r own h and alte red virtues in to
virtuosos .
’ I h ave arran g ed th e text accordin g ly.
MARCHION ESS OF NE WCAS TLE . 39
we re bred when I was not capable to observe
or before I was born : likewise th e breeding
Of men i s of a different manner from that of
women . But this I know,that they loved
virtue,endeavoured merit, practised justice and
Spoke truth : they were constantly loyal and
truly valiant . Two of my brothers were ex
cellen t soldiers and martial discipl ine rs, be ing
practised there in . For though they might have
l ived upon the ir own e state s very honourably,
yet they rathe r chose to serve . in th e wars under
th e S tate s of Holland,than to live idly at home
in peace ; my brother S ir Th omas Lucas there
having a troop of horse, my brother th e
youngest S ir Ch ar les Lucas serving there in.
But h e served th e States not long,for after h e
had been at th e siege and taking of some
towns, h e returned home again . And though h e
had th e less nexperien ce yet h e was like to have
proved th e be tter soldier, if be tter could have
been, having naturally a practick genius to th e
warlike arts, as natural poe ts have to poetry .
But his life was cut off before h e could arrive
to th e perfection thereof. Yet h e writ a treatise
40 THE LIFE OF THE
of th e Arts in War ; but by reason it was in
characters and th e k ey thereof lost, we c annot
as yet understand anything there in, at least not
so as to divulge i t. My othe r brother,th e Lord
Lucas, who was he ir to my father’s e state
,and
as it were th e fathe r to take care of us all,i s
n ot le ss val iant than they we re , although his
skill in th e discipline of war was n ot so much,
not be ing bred the re in . Yet h e had more skill
in th e use of th e sword , and is more learne d
in other arts and sciences than they we re : h e
be ing a great scholar by reason h e i s given
much to studious contemplation .
The ir prac tice was when they met togethe r,to exe rcise themse lve s with fencing, wre stling,shooting, and such like exe rcise s : for I ob served
they did se ldom hawk or hunt and ve ry sel
dom or never dance or play on music,saying
it was too effeminate for masculine Spirits .
Ne ithe r had they skill or did use to play for
aught I could hear, at cards or dice or th e
like game s : n or [were they! given to any vice ,as I did know, unle ss to love a mistre ss we re
a crime . Not that I know they had any but
IWARCHION ESS OF NEWCASTLE. 4 1
what report did say, and usually reports are
false— at least exceed th e truth .
AS for th e astimes of m Si sters when th e
we re in th efim t was
w
tl
dw
f’
e
h
a
f
d, work, walkand discourse with each othe r . For though
two of my three brothers were married, my
brothe r, th e Lord Lucas , to a virtuous and
beautiful lady,daughter to S i r Ch r istoph er
N eville, son to th e Lord Aherg aveny and my
brother,S ir Th omas Lucas
,to a virtuous lady
of an anc ient family,on e Sir j oh n By r on
’
s*
daughter ; likewise three of my four siste rs on e
married Sir Peter K illigr ew,th e othe r S ir Wil
liam Walter , th e third S ir Edmund Py e, th e
fourth aS ‘
yet unmarried ; yet most of them lived
with my Mothe r, e specially when sh e was at
h er country house : living most commonly at
London half th e year,which is th e metropo
litan city of England . But when they we re
at London they were dispe rsed into several
house s of the ir own : yet for th e most part
they me t every day,feasting each othe r like
Sister to th e an cestor o f Lord Byron—Brydg es.
4 2 THE LIFE OF THE
j ob’
s chil dren . But this unnatural war came
l ike a wh irlwmdwhich fell’d down the ir house s ;whe re some in th e wars were crushed to death
as my younge st brothe r S ir Char les Lucas and
my brother S ir Th omas Lucas. And though my
brother S ir Th omas Lucas died not immediate ly
of his wounds, yet a wound h e rece ived on h is
head in Ir eland shortened his life .
But to rehearse the ir recreations . The ir
custom was in winter-time to go some time s to
plays or to r ide in the ir coache s about th e
stree ts to see th e con course and recourse of
people . And in th e spring-time to visit th e
Spring-garden , Hyde Park and th e l ike place s .
And sometime s they would have music and
sup in barge s upon th e wate r. The se harm
les s recreations they would pass th eifm
tirJ
n e
away with . For I observed they did seldom
make visits, nor n ever went abroad with
strangers in the ir company,but only them
se lve s in a flock toge the r,agree in g so we ll
that there seemed but on e mind amongst
them . And not only my own brothers and
sisters agreed so but my brothers and sisters
THE LIFE OF THE
please them,which made h er consent to my re
quest. But my brothers and sisters seemed n o t
ve ry wel l pleased by reason I had neve r been
from home nor se ldom out of the ir sight : for
though they knew I would not behave myse lf
to the ir or my own dishonour, yet they
thought I might to my disadvantage,be ing un
exper ienced in th e world . Which indeed I
did ; for I was so bashful when I was out o f
my Mother’s,brothers’ and sisters’ sight, whose
pre sence used to give m e confiden ce— thinking
I could not do amiss whils t any on e of them
were by, for I knew they would gently reform
me i f I did : be side s,
I was ambitious they
should approve of my actions and behaviour
that when I was gone from them I was like
on e that had no foundation to stand or guide
to direct me,which made me afraid lest I
should wander with ignorance out of th e way
of honour. So that I knew not h ow to behave
myse lf. Be side s I had heard th e World was
apt to lay aspersions even on th e innocent,for which I durst ne ither look up with my
eye s, nor speak, nor b e any way sociable,
MARCHIONESS OF NEWCASTLE. 4 5
insomuch as I was thought a natural fool .
Indeed I had n ot much wit, yet I was not an
idiot—my wit was according to my years .
And though I might have learnt more wit and
advanced my understanding by living in a
Court, yet be ing dull, fearful and bashful ,I ne ithe r heeded what was said or practised,b ut just what be longed to my loyal duty and
my own hone st reputation . Indeed . I was SO
afraid to dishonour my friends and family by
my indiscre e t actions, that I rather chose to
b e accounted a fool , than to b e thoug ht rudeoW Ifi h th
fi
my bashfulne ss and fears
made m e repent my going from home to see
th e world , and much did I desire to re turn to
my mothe r again,or to my sis te r Pye, with
whom I often lived when sh e was in London
and loved with a supernatural affection . But
my Mother advised me then to stay,although
I put h er to more charge s than if sh e had
kept me at home,and sh e maintained me so
that I was in a condition rather to lend than
to borrow ; which courtie rs usually are n ot.
But my ,Moth er said it would b e a disgrace
46 THE LIFE OF THE
for me to re turn out of th e Court so soon
after I was placed . So I continued almost
two years,until such time as I was married
thence : for my Lord th e Marquis OfI
IVel
z
-
of
i
cast e
did approve of tho se bashful fears which many
condemned , and would choose such a wife
as h e might bring to his own humours and n ot
such an on e as was wedded to se lf- conce i t, or
on e that had been tempe red to th e humours
of anothe r— for which h e wooed me for his
wife . And though I did dread marriage and
shunned men’s companie s as much as I
could, yet I could not nor had not th e power
to re fuse him ,by reason my affe ctions were
fixed on him : and h e was th e only pe rson
I ever was in love with . Ne ither was I ashamed
to own it but gloried the re in . For it was n ot
amorous love . I neve r was infected the rewith .
It i s a disease , or a passion, or both— I only
know by re lation, not by experience . Ne ither
could title,wealth , power or pe rson entice me
to love ; but my love was hone st and honourable
be ing place d upon merit. Which affection
joyed at th e fame of his worth , was pleased
IIIARCHIONESS OF NEWCASTLE. 47
with de light in his wit,was proud of th e re spect
h e used to me,and triumphed in th e affections
h e profe ssed for me . Those affections h e hath
confirmed to me by a deed of time , sealed by
constancy and assigned by an unalterable decree
of his promise, which make s me happy in de
Spite of Fortune ’s frowns. For though Misfor
tune s may and do oft dissolve base , wild, loose
and ungrounded affe ctions, yet they have no
power ove r those that are united e ither by merit,justice , gratitude , duty, fide lity or th e like . And
though my Lord hath lost his e state and been
banished out of“
h is"
country for his loyaltyM ‘
to his King and country, yet ne ither de spised
poverty nor pinching nece ssity could makeh im break th e bonds of friendsh ip o r weaken
his loyal duty .
But not only th e family I am linked to i s
ruined , but th e family from which I sprung
by these unhappy wars . Which ruin my
Mother l ived to see and then died,having
lived a widow for many years : for sh e never
forgot my Father so as to marry again . Indeedh e remained so l ive ly in h er memory and h er
grief was so lasting as sh e neve r mentioned
his name (though sh e spoke O ften of him)but love and grief caused tears to flow
,and
tende r sighs to rise—mourning in sad com
plaints . Sh e made h er house h er cloister,
inclosing herse lf,as it were , there in : for Sh e
se ldom went abroad unle ss to church . But
the se unhappy wars forced h e r out, by reason
sh e and h er children we re loyal to th e King ;for which they plunde red h e r and them of all
the ir goods, plate , j ewe l s, money, corn, cattle
and th e l ike -cut down the ir woods, pulled
down the ir house s, and seque stered them from
the ir lands and livings . In such misfortune s
my Mothe r was of an hero ic sp irit, in suffe ring
patiently when there was n o_
remedy, and be ing
industrious whe re sh e thought sh e could he lp .
Sh e was of a grave behaviour and had such
a maje sti c grandeur as i t were continually
hung about h er , that i t would strike a kind of
awe into th e beho lde rs and command re spect
from th e rude st— (Ime an th e rude st of civilized
people— I mean n ot such barbarous people
as plundered h er and used h er crue lly— for
MARCHIONESS OF NEWCASTLE. 49
they would have pulled God out of'
Heaven,had they had power, as they did Royalty out
of his throne). Her beauty was beyond th e
ruin of time,for Sh e had a we ll-favoured
love liness in h er face , a pleasing swee tness
in h er countenance , and a we ll tempered com
plexion, ne ither too r ed nor too pale , even
to h er dying hour,although in years . And
by h er dying on e might think Death was
enamoured of h er,for h e embraced life} in a
sleep and so gently as if h e were afraid to
hurt h er . Sh e was an affectionate Mother,breeding h er children with a most industrious
care and tender love . Having e ight children,the re was n ot any on e crooked or any ways
deformed,ne ither were they dwarfish or of
giantlike stature , but every way proportion
able , we ll- featured, [with! clear complexions,brown hairs
,sound tee th
,swee t breath, plain
speeches , tunable voice s—I mean not so much
to sing, as in speaking—as n ot stuttering, nor
wh arlin g in th e throat or speaking through th e
nose or hoarse ly, or squeakingly, which impedi
ments many have : ne ither were the ir vo ices of
E
50 THE LIFE OF THE
too low a strain or too high,but the ir notes
and words we re tunable and timely.
I hope this truth will not offend my readers ;and lest they should think I am a partial
registe r,I dare n ot commend my Si ste rs
,as to
say they were handsome , although many would
say they we re very handsome . But this I dare
say: the ir beauty, if they had any, was not so
lasting as my mother’s,time making sudden er
ruin in the ir face s than in hers .
My Mother was a good mistress to h er ser
vants,taking care of them in the ir s ickne sse s
,
not sparing any cost sh e was able to be stow for
the ir re covery . Ne ithe r did sh e exact from them
more in the ir health than what they with ease ,or rathe r like pastime , could do. Sh e would
free ly pardon a fault,and forge t an injury
yet some time s sh e would b e angry : but never
with h er children,for th e sight of them would
pacify h er . Ne ither would sh e b e angry with
others but when Sh e had cause— as with negli
gent Or knavish se rvants, that would lavish lV
or unnecessarily waste or subtilly and thievishly .
steal . And, though sh e would often complain
5 2 THE LIFE OF THE
swee t -natured, and having an extraordinary wit
for h er ag e . Sh e dying of a consumption, my
sister h er mother died some half a year after of
th e same disease : and though Time is apt to
waste remembrance as a mum body or
to wear it out like a garment into rags, or to
moulder it into dust, yet I find th e natural
affections I have for my friends are beyond
th e length,strength and powe r of Time
,for I
shall lament th e loss so long as I l ive . So
also shall I lament th e loss of my Lord’s N oble
Brother who died not long after I re turned
from Eng land h e be ing then sick of an a gue :
whose favours and my thankfulne ss, ingratitude
shall neve r disjoin . For I will build his monu
ment of truth, though I canno t of marble , and
hang my tears as scutcheons on his tomb .
He was nobly gene rous,wise ly valiant
,naturally
civil, hone stly kind, truly loving, virtuously tem
perate : h is promise was like a fixt decree, his
words we re de stiny ; his life was holy, his dis
position mild, his behaviour courteous, his dis
course pleasing ; h e had a ready wit and a .
Spacious knowledge, a se ttled judgment, a clear
IVA!? CHIONESS OF N EWCASTLE. 53
understanding,a rational insight ; h e was learned
i n all arts and science s,but e specially in th e
mathematics in which study h e Spent most part
of his time : and though his tongue pre ached
not moral philosophy yet his life taught it
indeed h e was such a person that h e might
have been a patte rn for all mankind to take .
He loved my Lord his brother with a do ting
affection as my Lord did him ; for whose sake
I suppose h e was so nobly generous, carefully
kind and re spectful to me ; for I dare not
challenge his favours as to myse lf,having not
merits to de serve them . He was for a timeth e pre server of my life . For after I was mar
ried some two or three ye velled
out of France , from th e city of Par is,i
city h e re sided th e time h e was in Fran ce,into
Holland,to Rotterdam : where h e stayed some
six months . From thence h e re turned to Bra
han t, unto th e city of An twerp,
which city we had
passed through when we went into Holland,and
in that c ity, my Lord se ttled himse lf and family,choosing it for th e pleasante st and quie test placeto re tire himself and his ruined fortunes in .
But
after we had remained some time there in,we
g rew extreme ly nece ssitated, trade smen be ing
there not so rich, as to trust my Lord for so
much or so long as those in France . Yet they
were so civil,kind and charitable as to trust
him for as much as they we re able . But at
last nece ssity enforced me to re turn into En gland to seek for re l ief. For I
,hearing my
Lord ’s e state amongst many more e state s was
to b e sold, and that th e wive s of th e owne rs
should have an allowance therefrom,it gave
me hope s I should rece ive a benefit thereby .
So be ing accompanied by my Lord’s only
brother, S ir Ch ar les Cavendish , who was com
manded to re turn,to live the re in or to lose
his e state - ove r I went . But when I came
the re I found the ir hearts as hard as my
fortune s,and the ir n ature s as crue l as my
which was a very great on e and gave me not
any part thereof, or any allowance thereout, so
that few or no othe r was so hardly dealt withal .
Indeed I did n ot stand as a beggar at th e
Parliament door, for I never was at th e Par
MARCHIONESS OF N EWCAS TLE . 55
liamen t-House , nor stood I ever at th e door
as I do know or can remember ; n ot as a
petitioner I am Sure . Ne ither did I haunt th eCommittees, for I never was at any as a pe ti
tion er, but on e in my life , which was at Gold
smith’s Hall,but I rece ived ne ithe r gold nor
silver from them,only an abso lute refusal that
I should have any of my Lord’s e state My
bro ther, Lord Lucas did claim in my behalf
such a part of my Lord’s estate as wive s had
allowed them,but they told him that by reason
I was married S ince my Lord was made a
de linquent I could have nothing nor should
have anything h e be ing th e greate st traitor toth e S tate—which was to b e th e mo st loyal
subject to his King and Country. But I wh is
perin g ly spoke to my brother to conduct me
out of that ungentlemanly place, so without
speaking unto them on e word good or bad
I re turned to my lodgings,and as that Com
mittee was th e first,so was it th e last I eve r
was at as a pe titioner .’Tis true I went some
t ime s to Drury House to inquire h ow th e landwas sold : but no other ways
,although some
THE LIFE OF THE
reported I was at th e Parl iament-House , and at
this Committee and that Committee , and what
I said and how I was answered . But th e cus
toms of England are changed as we ll as th e
laws,where women become pleaders, attorneys,
pe titioners and th e like,running about with
the ir several causes , complaining of the ir seve ral
grievance s, exclaiming against the ir seve ral en e
mie s,bragging Of the ir seve ral favours they
rece ive from th e powerful ; thus traflick in g with
idle words brings in false reports and vain dis
course . For th e truth i s our sex do th nothing
but jo stle for th e preeminence of words (I mean
n ot for speaking we ll but speaking much) as
they do for th e preeminence of place , words
rh sh in g agains t words, thwarting and cro ssing
each other, pulling with reproache s, striving to
throw each other down with disgrace , thinking
to advance themse lve s.
thereby. But if‘our sex
would but well conside r and rationally ponde r,they will pe rce ive and find that it i s ne ither
words nor place that can advance them , but
worth and me rit. Nor can words or place
disgrace them,but inconstancy and boldne ss °
MARCHIONESS OF NEWCASTLE. 5 7
for an hone st heart, a noble soul, a chaste
life and a true-speaking tongue i s th e throne,sceptre , crown and footstool that advance s them
to an honourable renown . But I de spairing
because I was positive ly denied at Goldsmith’s
Hall (be side s I had a firm faith or strong
opinion that th e pains was more than th e gains),and be ing unpractised in public employments,unlearned in the ir uncouth ways ; ignorant of
th e humours and dispositions of those persons
to whom I was to addre ss my suit, and not
k n owmg where th e powe r lay and not be ing
a good flatte re r,did n ot trouble myself to pe ti
tion my enemie s . Besid m nag rally bashvfitL‘
N ot that I am ashamed of my mind/
or
body, my birth or breeding, my actions or
fortune s,for my bashfulne ss i s in my nature ,
not for any crime . And though I have striven
and reasoned with myse lf, yet that which is
inbred I find it difficult to roo t out . I don ot find that my bashfulne ss is concerned with
th e qualitie s of th e pe rsons, but th e number ;for were I to enter into a company of Laz ar uses
I should b e as much out of countenance as
58 THE LIFE OF THE
if they were all Cesar s, or Alex ander s, Cleo
patras or Queen Didos . Ne ither do I find my
bashfulne ss rise th so often in blushe s as it con
tracts my spirits to a chill palene ss . But th e
be st of it is, most commonly it soon vanishe th
away and many times before i t can b e perce ived :and th e more foolish or unworthy I conce ive
th e company to b e th e worse I am,and th e
bes t remedy I ever found is to pe rsuade myse lf
that all those persons I mee t are wise and
virtuous . Th e reason I take to b e thi s : that
th e wise and virtuous censure least, excuse
most,praise be st, e steem rightly
,judge justly
,
behave themse lve s c ivilly, demean themse lve s
re spectfully and speak mode stly, when fools or
unworthy persons are apt to commit absurditie s ,and b e bold, rude , uncivil both in words and
actions, forge tting or not we l l understanding
themse lve s or th e company they are with .
And though I neve r met such sorts of ill-bred
creature s, yet naturallyI have such an aversion
to them, as that I am afraid to mee t them,
as children are afraid of Spirits or others are
afraid to see or me et devils : which make s me
three or four times,as also some three or
four time s to Id e Par k with my sisters,to
take th e air, e lse I never stirred out of
lodgings unle s s tom ” and sisters
,
dre ss myse lf,taking no de light
to adorn myself,since h e I only de sired to
please was absent, although report did dre ss
me in a hundred seve ral fashions . In part of
th e time I wro te a book of Poems and a
little book called my Ph ilosoph ical Fan cies, to
which I have written a large addition since I
re turned out of England,be side s this book and
on e - other . AS for my book entitled Th e
Wor ld’
s Olio,
I wrote most part of it be fore I
went into England . But be ing not Of a me rry,although n ot of a froward, or peevish
'
dispo
sitiou,
I became ve ry melancho ly by reason I
was from my Lord, which madé”my mind so
re stle ss that i t did break my sleep and distempe r
my health ; with which, growing impatient o f a
longer de lay, I re solved to re turn, although I
was grieved to leave S ir Ch ar les, h e be ing
sick of an ague : of which sickne ss h e died :
for though his ague was cured his life was
MARCHIONESS OF NEWCASTLE. 6 1
decayed, for th e dregs of hi s ague did put
out th e lamp of his life Yet Heaven
knows I did not think h is life was so near an
en d, for his doctor had great hope s of his
perfect recove ry. So I made haste to re turn
to my Lord, with whom I had rathe r b e as a
poor beggar than to b e mistress of th e world
absented from him . Heaven hitherto hath kept
us,and though Fortune hath been cross yet we
do submit and are both content with what i s
and cannot b e mended, and are so prepared,that th e wors t Of fortune s Shall not afflict our
minds so as to make us unhappy, howsoever
i t doth pinch our live s with poverty. For,if
tranquillity l ive s in an honest mind th e mind
dwe lls in peace , although th e body suffer . But
Patience hath armed us and Misery hath tried
us and find us Fortune -
proof. For th e truth is
my Lord,i s a person whose humour is ne ither
extravagantly merry n or unnece ssarily sad; his
mind is above his fortun e , ,as his generosity is
above his purse , his courage above dange r,his justice above bribes
,his friendship above
se lf- intere st,his truth too firm for falsehood,
6 2 THE LIFE OF THE
his temperance beyond temptation . His con
ve rsation is pleasing and affable , his wit i s
quick and his j udgment strong,distinguishing
clearly without clouds of mistake s,dissecting
truths so as they justly admit not of diSputes :
his discourse i s always n ew upon th e occasion
without troubling th e hearers with Old historical
re lations,nor stuffed with use less sentence s .
His behaviour i s manly without formality and
free without constraint : and his mind hath
th e same freedom . His nature i s noble , and
his di spos ition swe e t. His loyalty is proved
by h is public service for his King and Country,by his often hazarding of hi s life
,by th e loss
of his e state and th e banishment of his person,by his nece ssitated condition and his constant
and patient suffering . But howsoever our
fortunes are we are both content,spending
our time harmlessly ; for my Lord please th
himse l f with th e management of some few
horse s and exe rcise s himse l f with th e use of
th e sword ; which two arts h e hath brought
by his studious thoughts,rational experience
and industrious practice to an absolute per
fection . And though h e hath taken asI'
m
/
rich
pains in those arts bo th by study and practice
as chemists for th e philosophe r’s stone
, yet h e
hath this advantage of them, that h e hath found
th e right and truth thereof and there in ; which
chemists never found in that pursuit and
never will . He also recreates himse lf with his
pen ,writing what his wit dictate s to him .
But I pass my time rather with scribbling than
writing, with words than wit . Not that I
speak much because I am addicted to con
11 unle ss I am with my Lord, yet then
r atten listen to what h e says than
impertinently speak . When I am writing any
sad fe igned storie s or serious humours or
melancholy passions I am forced many time s
to expre ss them with th e tongue before I can
write them with th e pen , by reason those
thoughts that are sad,serious and me lancho ly
are apt to contract and to draw too much
back, which Oppre ssion doth as it were over
power or smother th e conception in th e brain .
But when some of those thoughts are sent out
in words they give th e rest more l iberty to
64 THE LIFE OF THE
place themse lve s in a more me thodical order,
marching more regularly with my pen on th e
g round of white paper . But my le tters seem
rather as a ragged“rout than a we ll-armed
body,for th e brain be ing quicke r in creating
than th e hand in writing or th e memory in
re taining, many fancie s'
are lost,by reason
they oft-time s outrun th e pen , while I , to keep
speed in th e race , write so fast as I stay not
so long as to write my lette rs plain, insomuch
as some have taken my hand-writing for some
stran ge character. Howeve r, that little wit
I have it delights me to scr ibble i t out and
disperse i t about . For I be ing addicted from
my childhood to contemplation rather than conN
M u n i ” "v
versat1on , to solitarmess/ratlier ahan soc1ety, to
“ m MO
melancholy rather than mirth, to write with th e
pen rathe r than to work with a needle ; passing
my time s with harmle ss fancie s, the ir companybe ing pleasing, the ir con versation innocent,— I
take such pleasure there in as to neglect my
health : for it i s as great a grief to leave the ir
socie ty as a joy to b e in the ir company. My
only trouble is le st my brain should grow barren,
MARCHIONESS OF NEWCASTLE. 65
or that th e root of my fancie s should become
insip id, withering into a dull stupidity for want
of maturing subjects to wr ite on ;* for I am of
a lazy nature and not of an active disposition
as some are that love to journey from town to
town,from house to house , delighting in varie ty
of company, making on e where th e greate st
number is . In playing cards or any o the r
game s I ne ither have practised n or have I any
skill there in . As for dancing, although it b e a
grace ful art and become th unmarried pe rsons
we ll, ye t for tho se that are married it i s too
l ight an action,disagree ing with th e gravity of
that state . For revelling I am of too dull a
nature to make on e of a merry society : as for
feasting it would ne ither agree with my humour
nor constitution, for my die t is for th e mo st
part sparing— as a little boiled chicken or th e
like and my drink most commonly water . For
though I have an indifferent good appetite , yet
Th e Duch ess could n ot more h appily h ave expressed
h er in tellectual fate .
I do often fast, out of an opinion that if I
should eat much and exerc ise little (which I
do,only walking a slow pace in my chamber
whilst my thoughts run apace in my brain, so
that th e motions of my mind hinder th e active
exercise s of th e body) I should soon injure
myse lf. Should I dance or run or walk apace
I should dance my thoughts out of measure,
run my fancie s out of breath and tread out
th e fee t of my numbers . But be cause I would
not bury myse lf quite from th e sight of th e
world I go some time s abroad, se ldom to visit
but only in my coach about th e town,
* which
we call here a tour , whe re all th e chie f of th e
town go to see and b e seen, l ikewise all
s trangers of what quality soeve r, as all great
prince s or queens that make‘ any stay : for this
town be ing a passage or thoroughfare to most
parts,cause th many
'
time s persons of great
quality to b e here,though not as inhabitants
,
yet to lodge for some short time , and all such
as I said,take del ight, or at least g o , to see
An twerp , wh ere th is was written .
68 THE LIFE OF THE
hone sty,attended by mode sty, and di rected by
truth .
*
Since I have written in general thus far of
my life,I think it fit I should speak some thing
of my humour, particular practice and dispo
sition . As for my humour I was from my
childhood given to contemplation , be ing more
taken and de lighted with thoughts than in con
ve rsation with a socie ty, insomuch, as I would
walk two or three hours, and neve r re st, in
a musing,conside ring
,contemplating manne r,
re asoning with myse lf of everything my sense s
did pre sent ; but when I was in th e company
of my natural friends I was ve ry attentive
of what they said and did . For strangers
I regarde d n o t much what they said but I
observed the ir actions,whereupon my reason
as judge,my thoughts as accusers or excusers
or approvers and commenders did plead or
appeal or complain there to .
O rare , illustrious Prin cess ! How many of thy sex
could th en or n ow h ave written o f th emselves th e like
in every particular ?
IIIAIRCHIONESS OF IVEWCASTLE . 69
Also I never took de light in closets or cabi
net s of toys,but in th e varie ty of fin e clothe s
and such toys only as we re to adorn my pe rson .
Likewise I had a natural stupidity towards th e
learning of any other language than my native
tongue ; for I could sooner and with more
facili ty understand th e sense,than remembe r th e
words,and th e want of such memory make s me
so unlearned in fore ign language s as I am .
As for my practice ,* I was never very active
by reason I was given so much to contempla
tion ; besides, my bro thers and sisters-“Wef é
'
for
part serious and staid in the ir actions,not given to Sport or play, or dancing about,whose company, I keeping, became so too .
But I Observed although the ir actions werestaid , yet they would b e ve ry merry amongst
themse lves, de lighting in each other’s company .
Also they would in the ir discourse expre ss th e
general actions of"
th e world : judging,con
Used h ere in th e sen se of h ab its of life— th oug h cor
rectly h ab its are th e result of practice or use . Furth er
on sh e m ore prope rly uses th e word in an oth er sen se ,
n am ely, in th at of an employm en t .
demming, approvin g, commending as they
thought good, and with those that were inno
cen tly harmle ss they would make themse lve s
merry .
As for my study of books it was'
little , yet I
chow thir to read than to employ my time
in any oth erwm aice . But my serious
study could not b e much by reason I took
great de light in attiring,fin e dre ssing and
fashions,e specially such fashions as I did invent
myse lf, not taking that pleasure in such fashions
as we re invented by others . I did dislike that
any should follow my fashions,for I always took
de light in a S ingularity,even in accoutrements
of habits . But whatsoever I was addicted to
e ither in fashions of clothes, contemplation of
thought,actions of life— they were lawful,
hone st, honourable and mode st, which I can
avouch to th e world with a great confiden ce
because i t i s a pure truth . As for_ r_ay dispo
sitiorp it i s more inclining to melan ch olj7 thanmerry, but not crabbed or peaiSH EIan ch oly,
but soft,me lting so l itary and contemplative
me lancholy. And I am apt to weep rather
MARCHIONESS OF NEWCASTLE. 7 1
than laugh, n ot that I often do e ith e r of them .
Also I am tende r-natured , for it trouble s my
conscience to kill a fly and th e groans of a
dying beast strike my soul . Also where I place
a particular affection, I love extraordinarily and
constantly, yet not fondly but soberly and ob
servin gly : not to hang about them [I love! as
a trouble,but to wait upon them as a servant.
This affection will take n o root but where I
think or find merit,and have leave both from
D ivine and moral laws . Yet I find this passion
so trouble some , that i t i s th e only torment of
my life ; for fear any evil misfortune,or acci
den t, or sickne ss or death Should come unto
them— insomuch that I am neve r free ly at re st.Likewise I am grateful : for I never rece ive a
courtesy but I am impatient and troubled until
I can return it. Also I am chaste both by
nature and education insomuch as I do abhor
an unchaste thought . Likewise I am se ldom
angry as my se rvants may witne ss for me , for
I rathe r choose to suffe r some inconvenience s
than disturb my thoughts,which make s me many
time s wink at the ir faults but when I am angry
7 2 THE LIFE OF THE
I am ve ry angry—but yet i t i s soon’
over and
I am easily pacified if i t b e not such an injury
as to create a hate . Ne ither am I apt to b e
exception s or jealous, but if I have th e least
symptom of that passion, I declare it to those
i t concerns,for I neve r let i t lie smouldering
in my breast to breed a malignant disease in
th e mind,which might break out in extravagant
passions, or railing speeche s , or indiscree t ac
tions . But I examine moderate ly,reason so
berly,and p lead gently in my own behalf ;
through a de sire to keep tho se affections I had,or at least thought to have . And truly I am so
vain, as to b e so se lf-conce ited or so naturally
partial as to think my friends h ave as much
reason to love me as anothe r, since nOn e can
love more since re ly than I ; and it we re an in
justice to pre fer a fainte r affe ction or to e steem
th e body more than th e mind .
* Likewise I
Th e latter part of th is sen ten ce is ob scure ; b ut, n o
doub t, th e Duch ess, in comparin g h erself w ith oth ers
wh o mig h t profess supe rior claims to h er friends’
affec
tion , mean s to deprecate any rival claims b ased on th e
g round of person al b eauty.
MARCHIONESS OF NEWCASTLE. 7 3
am ne ither spiteful, envious nor mali cious . I
repine not at th e gifts that nature , or fortune
be stows upon Others : yet I am a great emulator :
for,though I wish none worse than they are
,
nor fear any should b e bette r than they are ,
yet it i s lawful for me to wish myse lf th e
be st,and to do my honest endeavours there
unto . I think it no crime to wish myse lf th e
exacte st of Nature ’s works, my thread of life
th e longe st, my chain of de stiny th e stronge st,my mind th e peacab lest, my life th e pleasante st,my death th e easie st and myself th e greatest
Saint in heaven : also to do my endeavour, so
far as honour and hone sty doth allow of, to
b e th e highe st on Fortune ’s whee l , and to hold
th e whee l from turning,if I can . And if it b e
commendable to wish another’s good it were a
sin n ot to wish my own . For as envy is a
vice so emulation is a virtue ; but emulation i s
in th e way to ambition- may, it is a noble am
bitiou . I fear my ambition incline s to vain
glory ; for 5 . Ye t’
tis ne ither
for beauty, or powe r, except
as they are steps to raise m e to Fame ’s Towe r,
7 4 THE LIFE OF THE
which is to live by remembrance in after age s .Likewise I am what th e vulgar calls proud.
Not out o f se lf-conce i t or to slight mmany, but scornin g to do a base or mean act,and disdaining rude or unworthy persons
,ln
somuch that if I should find any that we re rude
or too bold I should b e apt to b e so passionate
as to affront them , if I could , unless discre tion
should g et be twixt my passion and the ir bold
ne ss,which some time s perchance i t might, if
di scre t ion should crowd hard for place . For
though I am naturally bashful, yet, in such a
cause , my spiri ts would b e all on fire . Other
wise I am so we ll bred as to b e civil to all
persons of all degree s or qualitie s . Likewise I
am so proud of or rath er, just to my Lord , as
to abate nothing of th e quality O f his wife ; for
if honour b e th e mark of merit,and th e royal
favour of his maste r, who will favour none but
those who have a merit to deserve ,* i t were a
We may overlook th e b road lie of th e Duch ess’
s
statem en t, in th e h ope th at th e distan ce of retirem en t
len t en ch an tm en t to h er view of th e Court . It is pe rh aps a
76 THE LIFE OF THE
as to impoverish my friends,or go beyond th e
l imits or facility of our e state . Though I de sire
to appear at th e be st advantag e, whilst I l ive in
th e view of th e public world, yet I could most
willingly exclude myse lf, so as never to see th e
face of anycreature but myLord as lon g as I
l ived ; inclosing myse lf like an anchore t, wearing
a frieze gown, tied with a cord about my waist .
But I h Ope my Readers will not think me
vain for wr iting my life S ince there have been
many more that have done th e like,as Caesar
and Ovid and many more both men and women ;and I know no reason I may n ot do it as
we l l as they . But I verily be lieve some cen
suring Reade rs will scornfully say, Why hath
this Lady writ h er own life ? since none care s
to know whose daughter sh e was, or who se
wife sh e is, or how sh e was bred or what
fortune s sh e had, or what humour or disposi
tion sh e was of ? ’ I answe r that i t i s true
that ’ti s of no purpose to th e Reade r, but it i s
to th e Authore ss. I write i t for my own sake
not the irs . Ne ither did I intend this piece for
to de light but to divulge,not to please th e fancy
MARCHIONESS OF NEWCASTLE. 7 7
but to tell th e truth,le st after age s should mis
take in n ot knowing I was daughter to on e
Maste r Lucas of S t foh n ’
s near Colch ester in
Essex and second wife to th e Lord Marquis,
of N ewcastle ; for my Lord having had two
wive s,I might easily have been mistaken ,
e s
pecially if I should die and my Lord marry
again .
Th is mistak e, as Brydg es poin ts out, was actually
made . In Th e Loung ers Common Place Boole, vol. ii.
p . 398 , th ere is a n otice of th e Duch ess wh erein th is pas
sag e o ccurs.
‘Th is lady, th e first o f ch aracters, a g ood
wife , as well as a sen sib le and accomplish edwoman , was
th e daug h ter of William Bassett, Esquire , of an an cien t
family in th e coun ty of Stafford.
’
Th e Loun g e r’
s morality
is b etter and more curious th an h is in formation . Th e
n otice con cludes th us : It is n ot possible to view even h er
picture with out admiration ; such is th e ch arm of moral
and m en tal b eauty, far more attractive and durab le th an
th e tran sien t stimulus of a swelling b osom, auburn tresses
and love-darting eyes’
PO E M S
THE FIRST DUKE AND DUCHESS
OF NEWCASTLE.
PO E M S .
THE DUCHESS TO HER READERS.
A POET I am ne ither born nor bred,But to a witty poe t married :
Whose brain is fre sh and pleasant as th e Spring,Where Fancie s grow and whe re th e Muse s S ing .
There oft I lean my head, and listening, hark,To catch his words and all his fancie s mark
And from that garden show of beautie s take
Whereof a posy I in verse may make .
Thus I,that have no gardens of my own
,
There gather flowers that are newly blown .
AN APOLOGY FOR HER POETRY .
I language want to dress my fancie s in,
Th e hair’s uncurled , th e garment’s loose and thin .
Had they but silve r lace to make them gay,
They’d b e more courted than in poor array ;Or
,had they ar t, would make a be tter show
But they are plain ; yet cleanly do they go .
G
8 2 POEMS .
Th e world in bravery doth take de light,And glistering shows do more attract th e sight
And every on e do th honour a rich hood,As if th e outside made th e inside good .
And eve ry on e doth b ow and give th e place,
Not for th e man’s sake but th e silve r lace .
Let me intreat in my poor book’s behalf
,
That all will not adore th e golden calf.
Conside r, pray, go ld hath no life the re in,And life
,in nature , i s th e riche st thing .
Be just,let Fancy have th e uppe r place ,
And then my ve rse s may perchance find grace .
THE PASTIME OF THE QUEEN OF
FAIRIESI“
[From Poems and
A ueen Mab and all h er Fairy fry,Dance on a pleasant molehill high
With fin e straw pipe s swee t music’s pleasure
,
They make and keep just time and measure./
My correction s and alteration s of th is poem h ave b een
rath er n umerous. Parts of it are exce edin g ly clumsy
and feeb le .
84 POEMS .
Upon a mushroom there is spread
A cover fin e of spide rs web
And for h er stool a thistle -down
And for h er cup an acorn’s crown
,
Whe re in strong nectar there i s filled,
That from swee t flowe rs is distilled .
Flie s of all sorts both fat and good,For snipe, quail, partridge are h er food .
Ome le tte s made of ant eggs n ew
Of such high meats sh e eats but few.
Her milk is from th e dormouse udde r,Which make s h er cheese and cream and butter
This they do mix in many a knack,And fre sh laid ants’ eggs the re in crac
Both pudding, custard and seed-oak
Her skilled cook well knows h ow to bake .
To swe e ten them th e b ee‘
doth bring
Pure honey gathered by h er sting
But for h er guard serve s grosser meat
They of th e stall-fed dormouse eat.
11 dined Sh e calls,to take th e air
,
coach which is a nutshe ll fair ;Lined soft it i s and rich within
,
Made of a gl istering adders Skin,
POEMS .
And there six cricke ts draw h er fast,When sh e a journey take s in haste :
Or e lse two serve to pace a round:/
And trample on th e Fairy ground .
To hawk sometime s sh e take s de light,Her bird a horne t swift for flight
,
Whose horns do serve for talons strong ,To gripe th e partridge-fly among.
But if Sh e will a hunting go,Th e l izard answers for a doe
It i s so swift and flee t in chase ,That h er slow coach canno t keep pace
”h en on th e grasshoppe r she’ll r ide
And gallop in th e fore st wide .
He r b ow i s of a willow branch,To shoot th e l izard on th e haunch
Her arrow sharp, much like a blade,Of a rosemary leaf i s mad
g /Then home she ’s summoned by th e cock
,
Wh o gives h er warning what’s o’clock,
And when th e moon doth hide h er head,day is done , sh e goes to b ed.
eors do serve , when they are bright,As torche s do , to give h er light,
Glow-worms for candle s are li t up,
Set on th e table while sh e sutyBut women , th e inconstant kind
N e’
er in on e place content the ir mind
Sh e calls h er chariot and away
To upper earth— impatient of long stay .
Th e state ly palace in which th e Queen dwe lls
IS a fabric built of hodmandod she lls
Th e hangings thereof a rainbow that’s thin
Which shew wondrous fin e as you ente r in
Th e chambers are made of amber that’s clear
Which gives a swee t sme l l when fire i s near :
Her b ed i s a cherry-stone carved throughout
And with a bright butterfly’
s wing hung about
Her shee ts are made of dove ’s eye s skin
Her pillow ’s a viole t bud laid there in
Th e doors of h er chamber are transparent glass,Where th e Queen may b e seen as within sh e
doth pass .Th e doors are locked fast with Silver pins ;Th e Queen is asleep and n ow man’s day
begins .
Hodmandod. A fish th at casts its sh ell, like a
lob ster or a crab . A sh ell-snail called th e dodman .
POEMS . 8 7
AN EPILOGUE TO THE ABOVE.
Sir Charles into my chambe r coming in,When I was writing of my Fairy Queen
I pray — said h e when Queen Mab you do seePre sent my se rvice to h er Maje sty
And te ll h er I have heard Fame ’s loud report
Both of h er beauty and h er state ly court. ’
When I Queen Mab within my fancy viewed,
My thoughts bowed low,fearing I should b e rude
Kissing h er garment thin wh ich fancy made ,M hpon a thought, l ike on e that prayed
S AEt e nfin whispers soft, I did pre sentHis humble service which in mirth was sent ;Thus by imagination I have been
In Fairy court and seen th e Fairy Queen .
SORROW.
Upon a grave outrageous Sorrow sat,
Digging th e earth as if sh e through would g et ;Her hair untied
,loose on h er Shoulders hung,
And every hair with tears like beads was strung .
8 8 POEIVIS
And as those tears fe ll fast with the ir own we ight
Lo ! n ew-born tears supplied the ir place s straight .Sh e he ld a dagger, seeming to b e bold
Grie f bid h er strike but fear did bid h er hold .
Impatience raised h er voice with shrieking shrill,
That sounded like a trumpet on a hill .
Her face was fleck ed l ike marb le streaked with
red,
Caused by grief’s vapours flying to h er he ad .
’
Her bosom bare , h er garments loose and wide ,And thus sh e lay by De ath’s cold side .
By chance a man wh o had a fluent tongue ,Came walking by and saw h er lie a long ;Pitying h er sad condition and h er grief,He strove with rh etorick ’
s he lp to give re lie f.
‘Why do you mourn,’ said h e:‘and thus complain,
Since grief will ne i ther Death nor Gods re strain ?
When they at first all creature s did create ,They gave them life to death prede stinate .
Your sorrow cannot alte r the ir decre e ,Nor call back life this blind impatiency,Th e dead cannot from love rece ive a heat
Nor hear th e sound of lamentations great .
POEM S . 8 9
Then mourn no more since you no help can
give
Take pleasure in your beauty whilst you live
For in th e fairest Nature pleasure takes ,And
,i f you die
,Death double triumph make s .’
At last his words,like keys, unlocked h er ears,
And then sh e straight conside rs what sh e hears .Pardon, you Gods said sh e
,my murmuring
crime,
My grief shall ne ’er dispute your Will D ivine ,But in swee t l ife will I take n ew delight ’
And so went home with that fond carpet knight .
SONG OF THE PRIN CESS
IN THE CHARACTER OF A SHEPHERD,WITH
LADY HAPPY.
[From Th e Conven t of
My Shepherdess your wit fl ies high,Up to th e sky,
And views th e gate s of heaven,
Which are th e planets seven ;
90 POEMS .
See s how fixed stars are placed
And how th e me teors waste ;What make s th e snow so white ,And h ow th e sun breeds light ;What make s th e biting cold
On eve rything take ho ld,And hail
,a mixt degree
’Twixt snow and ice ; you see
From whence th e winds do blow ‘
What thunde r is , you know,
And what make s l ightning flow
Like liquid flame s , you Show
From sk y you come to earth
And view e ach creature ’s birth ,Sink to th e centre deep ,Where all de ad bodie s sleep ;And then obse rve to know
What make s th e minerals grow ;How vege table s Sprout,And h ow th e plants come out ;Take notice of all seed,And what th e Earth do th breed ;Then view th e springs be low,
And mark how waters flow ;
9 2 POEIVS .
L . Happy . My shepherd,All those wh o -live do know i t
That you are born a poe t ;Your wit doth search mankind
,
In body and in mind ;Th e appe tites you measure
And we igh e ach seve ral pleasure ;Do figure eve ry passion,And every humour’s fashion ;See h ow th e fancy’s wrought
,
And what make s every thought ;Fathom conceptions low,
From whence opinions flow ;Observe th e memory’s length
,
And unde rstanding’s strength ;Your wit do th reason find
,
Th e centre of th e mind,Where in th e rational soul
Doth govern and control ;There doth sh e sit in state ,Prede stined by fate
And by th e Gods ’ decree
That sovere ign sh e should b e .
And thus your wit can te ll,
POEM S . 93
How souls in bodie s dwe ll
As that th e mind dwe lls in th e brain,And in th e mind th e soul doth re ign,That in th e soul th e l ife do th last,For with th e body it doth n ot waste ;N or Shallwit like th e body die,But l ive in th e world ’s memory .
*
THE CONVEN T OF PLEASURE.
Lady Happy r esolves to seclude h er self fr om
M an h ind.
L. Happy . Men ar e th e only trouble rs of
women : for they only cross and Oppose the ir
swee t de l ights and peaceable li fe : they causethe ir pains but not the ir pleasure s . Wherefore
those women that are poor, and have not
means to buy de lights and maintain p leasures
are only fit for men : for having not means
Sir E. Brydg es says th at parts of th is poem , th oug h
only in four feet verses, remind h im o f th e man n er of
Blackmor e’
s Cr eation , wh ich was so stron gly and h yper
b olically commended byDr . Joh n son .
94 POEMS .
to p lease themse lve s they must serve only to
please others . But those women , where
Fortune, Nature and th e Gods are joined to
make them happy,we re mad to live with
men who make th e female sex the ir slave s ;but I will not b e so enslaved but will live
re tired from the ir company . Whe re fore in
order there to, I will take so many noble
persons of my own sex as my e state will
plentifully maintain, such whose births are
greate r than the ir fortunes , and as are re solved
to live a single l ife and vow virginity : with
these I mean to live encloistered with all th e
de lights and pleasure s that are allowable and
lawful . My cloiste r shall not b e a cloister of
re straint,but a place for freedom,
not to vex
th e senses but to please them .
For eve ry sense shall pleasure take,
And all our l ive s shall merry make
Our minds in full de l ight shall joy,Not vex’
d with eve ry idle toy
Each season shall our caterers b e ,To search th e land and fi sh th e sea ;
96 POEM S .
On S ilver waves I sit and sing,
And then th e fish lie li stening
Then resting on a rocky stone
I comb my hair with fishe s bone
Th e whilst Apollo with his beams
Doth dry my hair from soaking streams,
His light doth glaze th e water’s face,
And make th e sea my looking glass .
So when I swim on waters high,I see myse lf as I glide by,But when th e sun begins to burn,I back into my wate rs anyAnd dive unto th e bottom low
Then on my head th e waters flow
In curled wave s and c ircle s round,And thus with eddie s I am crowned.
SoRRow’
S TEARS .
Into th e cup of Love pour Sorrow’s tears,
Where eve ry drop a perfe ct image bears,
I h ave been ob lig ed for th e sake O f b oth symme try
and h armony to leave out several ve rses in th is son g .
POEMS . 97
And tr ickling down th e hill of Beauty’ s cheek,Fall on th e breast
,dive through
,th e heart to
seek
Which heart would b e burnt up with fire of
grief,Did not those tears with moisture give rel ief.
A MAN TO HIS M ISTRESS.
O do not grieve , Dear Heart, n or shed a tear,S ince in your eye s my life doth all appear ;And in your countenance my death I find
I’m buried in your melancholy mind .
But in your smile s,I’m glorified to rise
,
And your pure love doth me eternalize
Thus by your favour you a god me make ,When in your hate a devil’s shape I take .
THE FOUR SEASON S OF THE YEAR.
Alth oug h I am n ot r ich in wit,
N or hn ow wh at talesyour h umour sfit
Yet n ow myyoung and budding muse
Will draw th e seasons of th eyear ,H
98 POEMS.
Lihepr en tice-pain ter s wh ich do use
Th e same,to mahe th eir sh ill appear .
But N atur e is th e hand to g uide
Th e pen cil of th e mind, andplace
Th e sh adows so that they may h ide
All th e defects or g ive a g r ace.
A e SpRrNG i s dressed in buds and blossoms
swee t,And grass-green -socks sh e draws upon h er feet
Of freshest air a garment sh e cuts out,With painted tulips fringed round about
And line s it all within with viole ts blue
And ye llow primrose of th e pale st hue .
Sh e wears an apron made of lilie s white,And laced about with rays of dazzling light
Cuffs of narcissus h er fair hands do tie ,Pinned close with stings of bees which buzzing
fly
Ribbons of pinks and gilliflowers sh e make s,Roses both white and red for knots sh e take s .
And when she ’s drest th e birds in love do fall,Andchirping then do to e ach other call
To sing and h op and merry make
For th e gentle swee t Spring’s sake .
1 oo POEMS .
And when sh e from h er chariot doth alight
Then sh e i s waited on by sunbeams bright .
Or e lse th e rays that from th e moon do spread
Like waxen tapers light h er to h er b ed :
There with refre shing sleep short time to re st,Breathing swee t z ephyrs from h er panting
breast .
At high noon with th e butterfl ie s she ’ll play,In twilight with th e bats doth dance th e hay
Or, at th e setting of th e sun ,will fly
With swallows swift in lively company.
But,if she ’ s cross’d
,sh e straight malicious g rows,
And in a fury plague s on men sh e throws .
Of all th e seasons of th e year
Sh e doth most full and fat appear
Her blood is h ot and flows with swe lling tide,She ’s only fi t to b e Apollo
’s bride
But sh e , like other ladie s in the ir prime ,Doth fade and wither at th e breath of Time .
AUTUMN,although she ’s in h er fading years,
And sober, yet in pleasant garb appears .
Her garments are not decked with flowers gay,Nor are they green like those of maiden May ;
POEMS .
‘
1 o 1
But are th e colour of th e dapple deer,Or hare s that like a sandy ground appear .
Yet sh e i s rich, with plenty doth abound ,AllEarth’s increase i s in h er satche l found .
Sh e , to allCreature s nourishment doth give,And by h er bounty men , beasts , birds do live .
Beside s th e grieved heart with joy doth fill
When from plump grape s th e wine sh e doth distil .
Then Autumn glide s away and leaves our sphere
To WINTER cold at whom tree s shake for fear
And in that passion all the ir leave s do shed,And all the ir sap back to th e root is fled.
Sh e come s apace with dark and lowe ring brow,
No pleasant recreations doth allow.
Her skin is wrinkled and h er blood is cold,Her flesh is numb
,h er hands can nothing hold
Her face i s swarthy and h er eye s are red,
Her lips are blue and palsy shake s h er headHer humour’s sad and oft in showers she ’ll cry,Or with loud storms in blustering passions
Many lin es h ave of n ecessityb een/
omitted and varied
in th is poem .
1 o z POEMS .
TIME.
TIME,an eng raver, cuts th e sealof Truth
And as a painter draws both ag e and youth
His colours mixed with oil of health lays on
Th e plump smooth cheek h e pencils them upon
Shadows of ag e h e limns with sadder skill,Making th e hollow place s darker still .
A DIALOGUE BETWEEN MELANCHOLY
AND M IRTH .
As I sat musing by myse lf alone,
My thoughts brought several thin g s to work
upon :>l< >l< >l< 96
At last came two which we re in various dre ss,
On e Melancholy,th e o the r did Mirth expre ss .
Melancholy was all in black array,
And M irth was dre st in colours fre sh and gay .
Mirth laughing came and,running to me , flung
Her fat white arms about my neck and hung,Embraced and kissed me oft and stroked my
cheek,
Saying sh e would no othe r love r seek .
1 o4 POEMS .
Her voice i s low and gives a hollow sound
Sh e hate s th e light, in darkne ss only found
Or set with blinking lamps or tapers small,
Which various shadows make against th e wall .
Sh e love s nought e lse but noise that di scords
make,As croaking frogs which dwe ll down in th e lake ,Th e raven’s h oarse ,th e mandrake
’s hollow groan,
And shrieking owls in night which fly alone,
Th e tolling be ll which for th e dead r ings out,
A mill where rushing waters run about,
Th e roaring winds which shake th e cedars tall,
Plough up th e seas and beat th e rocks withal .
Sh e love s to walk in th e still moonshine night,Whe re in a thick dark grove sh e take s de light .
In hollow cave , house thatched or lowly ce ll,Sh e love s to live and all alone to dwe ll.
Her ears are stopped with thoughts,h er eye s
purblind,
For all sh e hears or see s i s in th e mind .
(Though in her mind luxurIOusly sh e l ive s,Imagination several pleasure s give s).
Then leave h er to he rse lf alone to dwe ll,Let you and I with mirth and pleasure swe ll,
POEMS . 1 0 5
And drink long,lusty draughts from Bacchus’
bowl,
Until our brains on vaporous wave s 'do roll ;Le t’s ’j oy ourse lve s in amorous de l ights
,
There ’s none so happy as th e carpe t knights
Me lancholy with sad and sober face,
Complexion pale but of a come ly grace ,With mode st countenance
,soft speech, thus
spake
May I so happy b e your love to take ?
True , I am dull, yet by me you shall know
More of yourse lf—so wiser you shall grow .
I search th e depth and bottom of mankind,Open th e eye of ignorance that’s blind
I trave l far and view th e world about,
I walk with Reason ’s staff to find Truth
out
I watchful am all dangers for to shun,
And do prepare’gainst evils that may come
I hang not on inconstant Fortune ’s whee l,
Nor ye t with unre solving doubts do ree l
I shake not with th e terror of vain fears,
Nor is my mind fi lled with unuseful care s
1 0 6 POEMS .
I do not Spend my time l ike idle Mirth,
Who only happy is just at h er birth,Who se ldom live s so long as to b e old
,
And if Sh e doth, can no affections hold ;For in short time sh e trouble some will grow
Though at th e first sh e make s a pre tty Show,
Sh e make s a constant noise and keeps a rout,And with disl ike most commonly goe s out .Mirth good- for-nothing is, l ike weeds sh e grows,Such plants cause madness Reason neve r knows.
Her face with laughter crumple s in a heap,Which ploughs larg e furrows—wrinkle s long
and deep
Her eye s do water and h er skin turns red,He r mouth doth gape
,teeth bared like on e that’s
dead
Sh e fulsome i s and gluts th e senses all,Offers he rse lf and come s be fore a call ;Seeks company out and hate s to b e alone ,Unwe lcome gue sts affronts are thrown upon .
Her house is built upon th e golden sands,Yet on n o true and safe foundation stands
A palace ’ tis,whe re come s a great re sort
,
It make s a noise and give s a loud report.
1 0 8 POEM S .
And there I dwe ll in quie t and still peace ,Not fi lled with care my riche s to increase ;I wish nor seek for vain and fruitle ss pleasure s
There is no wealth but what th e Mind in treasures.
Thus am I solitary and live alone ,Ye t be tter loved th e more that I am known,And though my face b e ill favoured at first s ight,Afte r acquaintance it shall give de light .
For I am like a Shade ; wh o sits in me
Shall not come wet, nor yet sun -bur‘
n‘ed b e
I keep off blustering storms from doing hurt,When Mirth 1s often smutched with dust and
dirt .
Refuse me not, for I shall constant b e ,Maintain your credit and your dignity .
A DIALOGUE BETWEEN EARTH AND
DARKN ESS.
EARTH .
O horri d Darkne ss and ye powe rs of Night
De sponding shade s made by obstructed light ;Why so perverse—What evil have I done i
To part me from my Husband,th e bright Sun?
POEMS . 1 0 9
DARKNESS .
I do not part you ! He me hither sends,Whilst h e rides round to visit all his friends .
Be side s h e hath more wive s to love than you,
He never to on e constant is nor true !
EARTH .
You do him wrong,for though h e journ ies make
For exercise— h e care for me doth take .
He leave s th e Stars his sisters in h is p lace ,To comfort me while h e doth run h is race ;But you do come most wicked
,thievish Nigh t !
To rob me of the ir fair and silver light .
DARKNESS.
The Moon and Stars 1 they are but shadows thin !
Small cobweb- lawn they from His light do spin z'
Which they in scorn do weave,you to disgrace ,
’
As a thin ve il to cover your ill face .
Th e Moon or Stars have no strong lights to Show
A colour true,n or h ow you bud or grow
,
Only some ghosts that rise and take de lightTo flit about when th e pale moon shine s bright .
You are dece ived— they cast no such disguise
Strive me to please by twinkling in th e skies .
As for th e ghosts they are my children weak
And tende r eyed, who th e Moon’s he lp do seek .
For why? Her light so gentle , moist and cold
Doth ease the ir eye s when they do it behold .
But you with shadows’ fright de lude th e S ight,
Like Death appear, with gloomy shade s of night .
And,with thick clouds, you cast upon my back
A mourning mantle of th e deepe st black,Which cove rs me with deep obscurity,Th at none of my dear children I can see,The ir love ly face s masking from my sight,Which Show most beautiful in th e day-light
They take de light to view,and to adorn
And fall in love with on e another’s form .
By which kind sympathy they bring me store
Of children young, those growing up bring
more .
But you, so spiteful to those love s so kind
Mufllin g the ir face s, make the ir eye s quite
bh nd!
1 1 2 POEMS .
He Spiteful i s to other lovers S inceHe by his light doth give inte lligence .
But I Love ’s confidant am made I bringThem to my shade to mee t and whisper in .
Thus am I faithful— kind to love rs trueAnd all i s for th e sake and love of you !
What though I ’m me lancholy ? my love ’s as strong
As th e great Light’s that you so dote upon .
Then slight me not n or do my suit disdain,
But when th e Sun is gone me ente rtain .
Take me swee t Earth with j oy unto your b ed
And on your fresh green breast lay my black
head .
A LADY DRESSED BY YOUTH .
Her hair was curls of Pleasure and De light,
Which on h er brow did cast a g li stenin g light .As lace h er bashful eyelids downward hung
A modest countenance o’
er h er face was flung
Blushe s,as coral beads
,sh e strung to wear
About h er neck,and pendants for each ear
[Her gown was by Proportion cut and made ,With ve ins embro idered, with complexion laid,
POEMS . 1 1 3
Rich jewe ls of pure honour sh e did wear,By noble actions brightened eve rywhe re
Thu s dre ssed,to Fame ’s great court st h tways
sh e went,To dance a brawl with Youth
,Love , Mirth,
Content/
A WOMAN DRESSED BY AGE.
A milkwhite fille t bound up all h er hairs,And a deaf coif did cove r bo th h er ear s
A sober countenance on h er face sh e ties,And a dim sight doth muffle half h er eye s
About h er neck’s a kerche r of coarse skin,
That Time hath crumpled and worn crease s in
Her gown was turned to me lancholy black,And loose did hang upon h er side s and back
Her stockings cramp had knit red-worsted gout
And pains as garters tied h er legs about
A pair of palsy glove s h er hands draw on,
With weakne ss stitched and n umb n eSs trimmedupon
A mantle of disease s laps h er round
And thus she ’s dre st for Death to lay i’ th ’ g round .
THE FUNERAL OF CALAMITY.
Calamity was laid on Sor row’
s hearseAnd coverings had of me lancholy verseCompassion s as kind friends, do mourning go
And tears about th e corpse as flowe rs strow .
A garland of deep sighs by Pity made
Was on th e sad bier laid
Be ll s of Complain ts did ring it to th e grave
And History a monument of fame i t g ave .
THE FUNERAL OF TRUTH
Truth in th e Golden Ag e was heal thy, strong,But in th e S ilve r Ag e grew lean and wan
I’
th’ Brazen Ag e sore - sick abed did lie
in th e last hard Iron Ag e did die .
ur ing and Rechon ing , both be ing just,Sh e as h er two executors did trust,Her goods for to distribute all about
To h er dear friends, as legacie s g iv’
n qui)Mourning sh e gave to all h er friends to wear,And did appoint that four h e r hearse should
bear
Who in each hand a bleeding heart did bringAnd the se into th e grave of Tr uth did fling.
(And eve r since lovers inconstant prove ,They more profe ssions give than real love .)Next them came Coun sellor s of all degree s
From courts and countrie s and renowned cities
The i r wise heads we re a guard and a strong
So long as Tr uth did live amongst them all .
Some j udg es came— no wran gling Lawyers
base
For Truth alive did plead and try each case
All sorts of Tr adesmen , using not to swear
So long as Truth, not oaths, sold off the ir
ware
Widows, that to the ir husbands kind had swore
That , if they died, they’d neve r marry more .
At last th e Clergy came wh o taught Truth’s
And h ow men in devotion ought to pray
By moral laws th e l ive s of men direct,Persuade to peace , and gove rnor
’s re spect .
They,bathed in grief, as prophets did fortell
That all th e world to Falseh ood would rebe l .
POEMS . 1 1 7
Faction will come, said they, and bear great
sway,And bribery shall th e innocent betray
Controversie s within th e Church shall ri se ,And Here sy shall bear away th e priz e .
Instead of peace th e prie sts shall discords preach ,And high rebe llion in the ir doctrine s teach
Then shall men learn th e statute s to explain,Which learning only serve s for lawyers’ gain
For they do make and spread them in a n et
To take in clients and the ir money g et.
Th e laws which wise men made to keep th e
peace ,Serve only then for quarrels to increase
And those that sit on Hon our’
s state ly throneBe counterfe its, nor any genuine known ;They put on vizards of an hone st face,But all the ir acts unworthy b e and base
Friendship in words and compliments will l ive,Not on e night’s lodgings in th e heart will give
Lovers shall die for lust yet love not on e ,And Vir tue unregarded sit alone .
Now Tr uth is dead n o Goodn ess here will dwe ll,But fe ll Disorder make each place a he ll .
1 1 8 POEM S .
With that they all shriek out,lament and cry
To N atur e that she ’d end th en m ise ry .
But n ow this Iron Age ’s so rusty grown,
Our hearts are flint and care not where Truth’s
gone .
POETS AND THEIR THEFT.
As birds to hatch the ir young do sit in spring,Th e age s do the ir broods of poets bring,Who to th e world in verse do sweetly sing.
The i r no te s great Nature set, not Art so taught
For fancie s in th e brain by Nature wrought
Are be st : what Imitation make s are nought
For though they sing as we l l as We ll may b e,
And make the ir note s of what they learn agree,
Yet h e that teache s still hath mastery
And ought to have th e crown of praise and fame ,In th e long roll of Time to write his name
And,tho se that steal it out, but win th e blame .
1 2 0 POEMS .
As, when h er shoes b e high to say she’s tall
,
And when she’s straight- laced to declare she’s
small ;When painted, or h er hair i s curled with art,Though of itse lf but plain and h er skin swart
We cannot say from h e r a thanks is due
To nature ; nor those arts in h er we View,
Unle ss sh e them invented, and so taught
Th e world to set forth that which i s stark nought .
But Fancy is th e eye give s life to all,Words th e complexion—as a whited wall
Fancy th e form is,fle sh
,blood
,skin and bone,
Words are but shadows, substance they have
none
But numbe r i s th e motion, give s th e grace ,And is th e countenance of a well- forme d face .
AN ELEGY UPON THE DEATH OF MY
BROTHER.
DEAR BROTHER,Thy idea in my mind doth lie,
And is entombed in my sad memory,
POEMS . 1 2 1
Where every day I to thy shrine do go,And offe r tears
,which from mine eye s do flow ;
My heart th e fire,whose flame s are ever pure ,
Shall on Love ’s altar last while life endure ;My sorrow incense strews of sighs fe tched deep
,
My thoughts keep watch o’
er thy swee t Spir it’s
sleep .
Dear ble ssed soul though thou art gone yet l ives
Thy fame on e arth and man thee praise s give s
But all’s too small : for thy heroic mind
Was above all th e praise s of mankind .
THE DEV IL TO BE AFRAID OF.
Women and fools fear in th e dark to b e,
Le st they th e Devil in some shape should seeAs if, like silly owls, h e take s de light
To sleep all day, and go abroad at night
To beat th e po ts and pans, and lamps blow out,And all th e night keep up a reve l routTo make th e sow to grunt
,th e p igs to squeak,
Th e dogs to bark, cats mew as if they speak
Alas ! poor Devil whose power is so small It
Only to make a cat or dog to bawl, f
1 2 2 POEM S .
And with th e hollow pewter make a noise,
To stew with fearful sweat poor girls and boys !
Why should we fear him since h e doth no harm ?
For we may bind him fast within a charm .
Then what a’devil ails a woman old
To play such tricks and give away h er soul ?
Can h e de stroy mankind or n ew worlds make,
Or alter states for an old woman’s sake ?
Or put th e daylight out, or stop th e sun
Or draw th e plane ts from the ir course to run ?
And yet me thinks’ti s sad and very strange
That since th e Devil cannot bodie s change ,He hath such powe r ove r souls, to draw
Them from the ir God and from his holy law.
Pe rsuading conscience to perform more ill,Than th e swee t grace of God, to rule th e will
To cut off Faith, by which our souls should climb
Above,and leave our folly and our crime
Destroying hone sty, disgracing truth .
For though h e cannot make old ag e nor youth
Nor can h e add or make a minute short
Ye t many souls h e keeps from Heaven’s court .
It se ems h is dreadful powe r foreve r lasts,Because ’tis on th e soul which never wastes .
12 4 POEMS .
Command th e winds to blow,seas to obey
,
Leve l the ir wave s and make the ir bree z e s stay.
But h e no powe r hath unle ss to die ,And care in life i s only misery.
This car e is but a word,an empty sound
,
Where in there i s no soul nor substance found ;
Yet as h is he ir h e make s it to inhe rit,And all h e has h e leave s unto this Sp irit .
To g et this Child of Fame and this bare word,He fear ’s n o dang ers, ne ither fire nor sword
All horrid pains and death h e will endure ,Or any thing can h e but fame procure .
O man,O man
,what high ambition grows
Within h is brain,and yet how low h e g oe s
To b e contented only with a sound,
Where in is ne ither peace nor l ife nor body found .
A HYMN TO DEITY .
Great God; from The e all in fin ites do flow
And by thy powe r from thence effects do grow
POEMS . 1 2 5
Thou orderest all degree s of matte r ; just
AS’
tis thy will and pleasure move it must .
Thou by thy knowledge orderest all th e be st
For in thy knowledge doth thy wisdom re st ;And wisdom cannot orde r things amiss
For whe re disorder i s,n o wisdom is .
Be side s great God, thy will i s just, for why ?
Thy will still on thy wisdom doth re ly .
O pardon Lord for what I n ow here speak
Upon a guess, my knowledge i s but weak ;But Thou hast made such creature s as mankind
And g av’
st them some thing which we call a mind,
Always in mo tion,never quie t it lie s
Unle ss th e figure of h is body die s .His several thoughts
,which several motions are
Do raise love,hope , joy, doubt and fear .
As love doth raise up hope , so fear doth doubt
Which make s him seek to find th e great God out ;Self-love doth make him seek to find i f h eCame from or Shall last to e ternity .
But motion be ing slow makes knowledge weak
And then his thoughts gainst ignorance do break .
As fluid waters gainst hard rocks do flow,
Break the ir soft streams and so they back ward go,
1 2 6 POEMS .
Just so do thoughts : and then they backward slide
Unto th e place where first they did abide ,And there in gentle murmurs do complain
That all the ir care and labour i s in vain .
But S ince none knows,th e great Creator must ;
Men seek n o more but in His gre atne ss trust .
Th is Hymn,wh ich occurs at th e end of on e of h e r
stran g e‘
ph ilosoph ical’
b ooks, is curious as almost th e
on lydevotion al passag e to b e found in th e writin g s of th eDuch ess.
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS .
THOUGH BEAUTY wither and decay
Wisdom and Wit may in th e ruin stay
If youth doth waste , and life’s oil’s Spent
,
Yet Fame lasts long and builds a monument.
A me lancholy life doth shadows cast,But se ts forth virtue, if they are we ll placed .
Then wh o would entertain an idle mirth,Begot by Vanity
,and die in scorn ?
Be proud, or pleased with beauty, when th e birth
Become s th e grave or tomb as soon as born ?
But Wisdom wishe s to b e old and glad,
When youthful follie s die or seem as mad.
Though ag e i s subject to repent th e past,Prudence and virtue may redeem what’s lost .
11
MISCELLANE 0US
LOVE,h ow th ou
’
rt tired out with rhyme
Thou ar t a tree whereon all poe ts climb ;And from thy branche s every on e take s some
Of thy swee t fruit, which Fancy feeds upon .
But n ow thy tree is left so bare and poor,That they can hardly gather on e plum more .
GIVE me that Wit whose fancy’s not confined,That buildeth on itself, not two brains
joined
(For that’s like oxen yoked and forced to draw
,
Or like two witne sse s for on e deed,in law).
But’s l ike th e sun that needs no he lp to rise‘Or like a bird, in air that freely fl ie s
Or like th e sea which runne th roun d without,
And grasps th e earth with twining arms about
Thus true b orn Wit to others streng th may
give,
Yet by its own and not another’s live .
1 3 2 MISCELLANEOUS
Th e powder for h er hair i s milkwhite snow,And when sh e combs h er locks th e winds do
bl ow :
Light a thin ve i l doth hang upon h er face,Throug h which h er creatures see in eve ry place .
IHATE your fools for they my brains do
crack,
And when they Speak put patience on th e rack.
The ir actions all from reason quite do run,The ir ends prove h ad since ill they’re first begun .
They fly from Wisdom— do h er counse ls fear,As if sh e ruin to the ir heads brought near.
They seek a shadow— let th e substance go,And what i s g ood.or be st they do not know °
Yet stiff in the ir Opinions,stubborn
,stron g
Although you bray them, sayeth Solomon .
As spiders’ webs entangle l ittle fl ie s
So fools wrapt up in webs of e rror lie s
Then comes th e spider, fl ie s with poison fills,So mischief in the ir errors oft fools kills .
POEM S . 1 33
VII
TIS strangeHow we do change !
Firs t to live and then to die
I s a great miserv !
To give us sense great pains to fee l
To make our l ive s to b e Death’s wheel
To give us sense and reason too ,
Yet know not what we ’re made to do
And sense s which like hounds do run about .
Yet neve r can th e pe rfect truth find out .
O Nature ! Nature ! crue l to mankind ,Who give s us knowledge
,misery to find !
VIII .
VIRTUES are several paths which lead to
heaven ;And they which tread these paths have grace s
given
Repentant tears allay th e dust of pride
And pious sighs do blow vain thoughts aside
Sorrow and grie f which in th e heart do lie ,Do cloud th e mind as thunder doth th e Sky
I 34 MISCELLANE OUS POEMS .
But when in thunde ring groans it breaketh out
Th e mind grows clear, th e sun of joy peeps
out !
This pious life I n ow resolve to lead,
That in my soul doth joy and comfort breed ;
IX .
ISE ag e maje stic seems like gods above
The ir countenance i s mercy j oined with
love ;The ir silver hairs are like to glorious rays,The ir eye s
,like monarch’s sceptre , powe r sways,
The ir life i s justice ’ seat where judgments S it
The ir tongue i s th e sharp sword which truth
doth whe t ;The i r grave behaviour’s balance s do poise
Th e scale s of thought and action without noise ;Merits th e grains which make them even we ight,And hone sty th e hand that holds them straight .
X .
NOTHING was left but black de spair,And grim Death in the ir eye s to stare
For every gust of wind blew death into the ir face
And every billow digged the ir burial place .
POEMS BY THE DUKE .
A WASSAIL SONG.
THE jolly wassail n ow do bring,With apple s drowned in stronge st ale ,And fre she st syllabubs , and sing ;Then each to te ll the ir love - Sick tale
So home by couple s and thus draw
Ourselve s by holy Hymen’s law.
PEDLER’
S SONG .
*
[From Th e Tr iumphan t
Come maids what i s it that you lack ?
I have many a fin e knack
For you in my pedler’s pack
Your swee thearts then kindly smack,If they freely will pre sent you,And with trinkets will content you.
Brushes,combs of torto i se
'
she ll,
For your money I will sell ;
Compare with Autolycus in Win ter ’s Tale .
’
1 38 POEMS B Y
Camb ri c lawn as white as milk,Taffe ta as soft as silk
Garters r ich with silver rose s,Ring s with moral, divine posies
Rainbow r ibbons of each colour,No walking shop ere yet was fuller ;Various points and several lace s
For your bodie s’ straight embraces
S i lver bodkins for your hair,Bobs which maidens love to wear
Here are p re tty tooth-pick cases,And th e fine st Flanders lace s
,
Cabine ts for your fin e doxie s,S toppers and tobacco boxes,Crystal Cupi d
’s- looking-glasses
Will enamour all your lasse s
Fine gilt prayerb ook s, catechisms,What is or thodox or schisms,Or for loyal faith defendant
Presbyter or Independent .
Ballads fre sh for singing n ew,
And more,th e ballads all are true !
1 40 POEMS PY
Millions of souls beyond expre ssing,French devils tortured in th e dre s sing.
To cool them there they drunk instead
Of beer huge draughts of molten lead ;Burnt clare t they do never lack ,And all the ir spanish is mulled sack .
In throngs whe re n ew- come S inners stood
A reverend lady lost h er hood ;A chamber-maid cried out Alas
A devil had broke h er looking-glass .’
A merchant cried burnt was his stuff,
A city wife had singed h er muff ;A purchaser did howling cry
Alas ! his deeds and seals did fry.
’
A courtie r los t hi s pe riwig
A hector lost his looking big
Th e drunkards that were in th e rout
At last did puke th e fire s out ;Hell be ing spo iled I came away,And sinners n ow make ho l iday .
*
I prin t th is as on e of th e most curious and in g enious
of profan e pieces th at I kn ow, and on e n ot with out a
dash of wh olesom e satire in it.
CUPID .
VENUS .
CUPID .
VENUS .
CUHD.
THE DUKE. 1 4 1
LOVE’
S O IN TMENT.
[From The Humorous
CUPID AND VENUS, LOQ.
Dear Mother, powerful charms I’
ve got
A Lover’s sighs
—put them in th e pot .
His groans,sadthoughts and his despair
,
His soul departed,turned to air.
Gently infused we ’ll boil them all
In tears which h is sad eye s let fall .
But Lady Venus, my dear mother,To make it stronger, here
’s another ;Th e Lover’s feverish panting heart,Blood that did backward from it start
,
Cold sweats wrung through his porous
skin,
When to de spair h e did begin .
Cupid, I prithee my dear Son,Make what haste , thou canst, to
’have
done .
Here ’s a brace let of h er hair,
Beams that used to flow i’ th ’ air,
1 42 POEMS PY
Smile s that from h er face did r ise,
Glance s shot from h er bright eye s
Coral from h er lips too wi th
Shaved ivory from h er teeth ;From each ve in a viole t,A strawberry from e ither teat,Lilie s took from h er white skin,Rose s from h er cheeks . All ’s in,But th e pot me thinks too narrow.
VENUS . S tir th e ingredients with thine arrow,
Thus Love ’s ointment we compound ,In which we dip th e darts that wound .
SONG.
[From Th e Humorous
I .
From the ir bright ce le stial sphere
Venus and h er son appear,Gently de scending to th e earth
To give our love s a time ly birth .
II .
In th e faire st ladie s’ eye s
Cupid’s fatal quive r lie s
1 44 POEMS B Y
AN AERIAL FEAST.
(AN EXTRAVAGANZ A.)
[From Th e Humorous
Unto a feast I will invite thee
Where various dishe s Shall de light thee,Th e steaming vapours drawn up hot
From Earth,that’s Nature ’s porridge -pot
,
Shall b e our broth ; we’ll drink my dear
Th e thinner air form our small beer ;And if thou like st I’ll call loud
And make our butle r broach a cloud .
We’ll of pale plane ts for thy Sake
White-pots and trembling custards make
Th e twinkling stars shall to our wish
Make a grand salad in a dish ;Snow for our sugar shall not fail
,
F ine candied ice , comfits of hail ;For orange s gilt clouds we ’ll squeez e ,Th e milky-way we
’ ll turn to chee se ;Sunbeams we ’ll catch to stand in place
Of hotter ginger,nutmegs
,mace ;
Sunse tting clouds for rose s sweet,And viole t skie s strewed for our feet ;Th e sphere s shall for our music p lay,
THE DUKE . 1 45
While spirits dance th e time away.
When we drink healths Jove shall b e proud
Th’ old cannoneer—to fire a cloud,
That all th e gods may know our mirth,
And tremblin g mortals too on earth .
And when our feastin g shall b e doneI’ll lead thee uphill to th e sun
And place thee there that thy eye s mayAdd greater lustre to th e day .
SONG .
[From Th e Tr iumphan t
I dote, I dote, but am a sot to Show it,I was a very fool to let h er know it
,
For n ow sh e doth So cunning grow
Sh e prove s a friend worse than a foe ;She ’ll ne ither
.
hold me fast nor le t me goSh e tells me I cannot forsake h er so
If to leave late I eve r endeavour,
Sh e to make m e stay
Throws a kiss in my wayO the n I could tarry for ever.
1 46 POEMS B Y
But good madam Fickle b e faithful,
And leave off your damnable dodging,Eithe r love m e or leave m e
And do not de ce ive me
But let me go home to‘
my lodg ing .
A MODEL HUSBAN D.
[From The Tr iumphan t
Lady.—I am re solved neve r to marry
Till I can find a man of noble bloodWith virtue s greate r than his pedigreeO n e that fears no thing but to do a wrong ,Remembering eve rything but injurie sWh o has courage beyond a lion in his pride ,Ye t hide s that courage in his gentle breastThat’s just for justice ’ sake and on e that we ighsAll things in judgment’s balance : with clear sightCan hit th e mark of men and busine ssThat prudently fore see s from what is pastHath wit as good as all th e Roman poe tsWith fancy quick and sharp
, yet not Ofl'
en sive ,
His discourse clear and short and what’s h is ownEasy and natural on all o ccasions :Of n ature exce llent— a me l ting soulReady t’ oblige allmankind were ’
t in his power .
1 48 POEMS B Y
SONG.
[From The Variety,
’
a comedyj
Thine eye s to me l ike suns appear,Or brighter stars
,the ir light
Which make s it summe r all th e year
Or e lse a day of night ;But truly I do think they are
But eyes,and ne ither sun nor star.
Thy brow is as th e milky way,Whereon th e gods might trace
Thy lips ambrosia I dare say
Or nectar of thy face ;But to speak truly I do vow
They are but women’s lips and brow .
Thy cheek it is a mingled bath
O f lilie s and of rose s
But here the re ’s no man power hath
To gather love ’s fre sh posie s
Be lieve it,here th e flowe rs that bud
Are but a woman’s fle sh and blood .
Usedh ere in th e sen se of drive or walk.
THE DUKE. 1 49
Thy nose a promontory fair,Thy neck a fairy land !
At nature ’s gifts so rare ly rare
All men amazed do stand
But to a clearer judgment those
Are but a woman’s neck and nose .
Four line s in pass ion I can die
As is th e love r’s guise ;And dabble too in poe try
Whilst love -
possest then wise
As greate st state smen or as those
Who know love be st yet l ive in prose .
ELEGY .
[From N atur e’
s Pictur es drawn by Fancies
Titan,I banish all thy joys of light
,
Turning th y glorious rays to gloomy night
Clothing my chambe r with sad black, each part
Thus suitable unto my mournful heart
Only a dim wax taper there shall wait
On me,to shew my dark
,unhappy fate .
1 50 POEM S B Y
With sorrowing thoughts my head shall furn ish ’
d
b e,
And all my breath sad sighs, for love of the e
My groans to grieving note s b e se t with skill,And sung in tears and me lancholy still
Languishing music to fi ll up each voice
With palsied, trembling strings b e all my choice .
HEAVY GRIEF.
[From th e play of Bell in Campo,’
by th e Duch ess !
LADY JANTIL at h er h usband’s tomb, putting qfl
'
h er
r ich g armen ts and or namen ts, speahs th us
N ow I depose myse lf and here lay down
Title s, n ot 'Hon our,with my golden crown
This crimson ve lve t mantle I throw byThe re ease and plen ty in rich e rmine s lieO ff with this glitte ring gown which once did bear
Ambition and fond pride Lie you all there !
Cut off the se dangl ing tre sse s,once a crime
Urging my glass to look away th e time !
Thus al l those worldly vanitie s I waive
And bury them in my dear Husband’s grave .
1 5 2 POEMS B Y
As you,my Mother Earth
,may nothing wear !
But snow and icicle s to curl your hair :
So may Dame Nature,barren
,nothing bring
Let all b e chaos whence de spair’s a spr ing
S ince all my joys are gone what shall I do,
But wish th e whole world ruined with me too.
AN OTHER SOLILOQUY.
[From th e same !
Lady f an til. So !’Tis we ll !
Oh, Death hath shaked m e kindly by th e hand,To bid m e we lcome to th e silent grave .
’
Tis dead and numb swee t Death ! How thou
dost court me !
0 let me clap thy fallen cheeks with j oy,And kiss th e emblem of what once was lips
Thy hollow eye s I am iii love withal,
And thy bald head beyond Youth ’s be st-curled
hair .
Prithee , embrace me in thy co lde r arms,And hug me the re to fit me for thy mansion
Then bid our ne ighbour worms to feast with us,Thus to rejoice upon my holiday .
THE DUKE . 1 53
—But thou art Slow ! I prithee , hasten Death
And l inge r n ot my hope s thus with thy stay .
"Tis not thy fault,
’ thou saye st ? ‘ but fearful
Nature
That hinde rs thus thy progre ss in this way ?’
Oh foolish Nature , th in k’
st thou canst withstand
Death ’s conque ring and inevitable hand ?Let me have music for divertisement
This i s my mask,Death’s ball, my soul to dance
Out of h er frail and flesh ly prison he re .
Oh, cold I n ow dissolve and me lt I long
To fre e my soul in Slumbers with a song !
In soft and quie t Sleep here as I lie ,Steal gently out O Soul and let me die
DEATH SONG 2 OF LADY INN OCENCE.
[From Youth’s Glory andDeath
’
s Ban guet,’a play by th e
Duch ess !
Life i s trouble at th e be st,And in it we find no re st ;
Joys are allwith sorrows crowned,
N o quietne ss till in th e ground .
1 54 POEMS B Y
Man vexe s man we still do find
He i s th e torture of his kind :
False man I scorn thee in my grave !
Come Death ! I call thee as my slave .
FUNERAL SONG ; BY V IRGIN S.
[From th e same .!
Spotle ss virgins, as you go,Wash e ach step as white as snow
With pure crystal streams that rise
From th e fountains of your eye s .
Fre she r lilie s , like th e day,Strew,
and rose s white as they
For an emblem to disclose
This flower swee t, Short- lived as those .
SONG.
[From Th e Public Wooing ,
’
a play by th e Duch ess !
Envious ladie s n ow repine ,S ince you are crost
In having lost
A Prince so handsome and so fin e .
His head all froz ’n , beard long and white as snow
Propped with a staff , for e lse h e could not go :With bleared eyne
,all parched dry and cold,
With palsy shaking little could h e hold .
On’s cloak more patche s there did stick
Than Algebra’s arithme tic
Could once te ll how to number, and was fulle r
Than was th e rainbow of each various colour .
His turf house leaned to an old stump of oak
A hole at top there for to void th e smoke .
A withered beggar-womanwas the re l ittle sundered
From him, wh o, all th e town said, was a hundred :
Toothle ss sh e was, nay more , worn all h er gums ,And all h er fingers too we re gone to thumbs
Wrinkle s,deep grave s to bury all de light,
Eye s now sunk hole s that little had of sight
Se ldom sh e heard, some time s, th e great town-bell
Little could speak, as little sense could te ll .
A long forge tfulne ss h er legs had se ized,
For many years h er crutche s them had eased
Clothe s , th ousand rags torn with th e wind and
weather,Her housewifery long S1n ce had sewn together .
THE DUKE. 1 57
In a hot summer’s day the se out did creep,Enlivened just like flie s to leave the ir sleep,And then Apollo
’s masterpiece did aim
To light dead-ashe s’ sparks— not make a flame .
Now heat and kindne ss made him try to kiss
h er,
But h er old head so shook h e oft did miss h er
He thought it modesty, sh e , gainst h er will,Striving to please him,
could n ot hold it still .
Sh e mumbled but h e could not understand h er
He cried Swee t Hero I’ll b e thy Leander !’
Sh e said : Be fore we met cold as a stone is
I was,but n ow am Venus, you Adonis .
’
Such he ights of passion’s love utte red the se two
As younge st lovers when they ’gin to woo
For Cupid still his re ign o’
er man will have,He governs from th e cradle to th e grave .
The ir virtue’s such they will n ot S in or tarry,
So,heated
,vowed a contract then to marry .
This marriage n ow divulged was everywhere
To n eig h b’
rin g beggars, beggars far and near
Th e day appo inted and th e marriage set,
Th e lame , th e blind, th e deaf toge ther met
1 58 POEMS B Y
Th e bridegroom,led be tween two lame men
,so
In halting pace and measure,laboured slow
Th e bride was led by blind-men just behind
B ecause you know that love i s always blind .
Th e hedge -
prie st called for, then they did-him
bring,
Who married them with an old curtain-ring .
No father was the re found or could b e eve r
Sh e was so old that the re was none to give h er .
With acclamations n ow of loude r j oy
Prayed Hymen Priapus to send a boy,To shew a miracle ; in vows most deep
Th e parish swore the ir children all to keep .
Then Tom -a-Bedlam wound his b orn at best
To call th e gue sts unto th e marriage - feast
Pick’
dmarrow—bone s they had found in th e stree t,
Carrots kicked out of kenne l s with the ir fee t
And many other dishes that ’twould cumber,Any to name them ; more th an I can numbe r.
Then came th e banque t, that must never fail,Which th e town gave , that
’s white bread and
strong ale .
1 60 POEM S B Y
He sighs and thus laments his state
Cursing dame Nature , for’twas sh e
That did allot him such a fate
To make him of mankind of b e .
All other animals, the ir mould,Of thousand passions make s them free ;They are not subject unto gold
Which doth corrupt mankind we see .
Th e busy merchant plie s th e main,
Th e lawye r pleade th for his fee
Pious divine s for lucre’s gain,Mechanics
,—all still cozeners b e .
With plough- share s farmers wound th e earth,Look to the i r cattle
,swine and sheep
,
To multiply the ir seed, corn’s birth
,
And all for money which they keep .
endeavourin g to preserve th is oddpiece, in wh ich h ere andth e re occur ph rase s and th oug h ts of a cur iosaf elicitas, and
th rough th e wh ole of wh ich run s a quain t amusin g irony.
Th at couplet alon e is worth preservin gWith cares men b reak th eir sweet repose
Lilee wh eels that wear with tur n ing r ound.
’
THE DUA’
E .
Th e sunburnt dame prevents th e day,As h er laborious bee s for honey,Doth milk h er kine , and spins away
Her fatal thread of life for money .
Mankind doth on g od Pluto call
To serve him still in all the ir pleasure
Love here doth little money all,
For of this world it is th e measure .
Beasts do de spise this Orient m e tal,
Each free ly grazing fills his maw ;After love ’s procreating se ttle
To gentle sleep, swee t Nature’s law.
They’re not litigious but are mute
False propositions neve r make ,N or of unknown things do dispute ;Follies for wise things do n ot take
They use n ot rh etorick to dece ive,
Nor logic to enforce th e wrong,
Nor strains of tedious history weave,In tiresome and distracted song
M
1 6 1
1 6 2 POE tidS PY
Nor study th e ename lled Sk y
Thinkin g they ’re gove rned by each star,
But scorn man’s false astrology,
And think themse lve s just what they are .
The ir pride n ot be in g so supreme,
Ce lestial bodie s moving thus,Poor mortal s cozened with th e dream
To think those lights we re made for us !
Nor are they troubled whe re they run,What th e sun’s matter it might be
Whe ther th e earth move s or th e sun
And yet they know as we ll as we
N or do they with grave troubled looks
By studious learning force th e day,Or multiplic ity of books
To put them out of truth’s right way .
High polic ie s beasts never weave
Or subtle traps they neve r lay,With false dissemblings that dece ive
The ir kind to ruin,nor be tray.
Th e irony of th is lin e is peculiarly h appy.
POEM S B Y
N ot capable of those things te ll ing
Beasts beyond sense s do not strive .
Nature ’s just measure sense s are,
And no impossibles de sire
Beasts seek not afte r things that’s far
Or toys or bauble s do admire .
Beasts Slande r n ot or falsehoods raise
But full of truth as Nature taught,
They wise ly shun dissembling ways,Following dame Nature as they ought
To n o false gods make sacrifice
Or promise vows to break them ; no
N o doctrine teach of p ious lie s,Or worship gods they do not know,
N or envy any that do'
r ise,
Or joyful seem at those that fall,
Or crooked plans gainst o thers trie s
But love the ir kind,themse lve s and all.
Hard labour suffe r when they must,When over- awed they wise ly bend,In only patience then they trust
As misery’s and affliction ’
s friend .
THE DUKE. 1 65
They seek not after beauty’s blaze ,To tempt the ir appe tite s when dull
But drink th e streams that tempe sts raise,And grumble not when they are full .
With care s men break the ir swee t reposeLike whee ls that wear with turning round
With beasts calm thoughts the ir eye lids closeAnd in soft sleep all care s are drowned .
No rattle s,fairings
,
* ribbons,strings
,
Fiddles, pipe s, min istrelsie s them move
Or bugle-brace le ts or fin e rings ;And without Cupid they make love .
0 happy beasts ! that spend th e day
In pleasure with the ir neare st kin,And all is lawful in the ir way
,
They live and die W ithout a sin .
Presen ts g iven at a fair .
How pedlars’stalls with glitterin g toys are laid
Th e various fairin g s’
of th e coun try maid.
Gay’s Pastorals.
1 66 POEMS B Y
O vain ph iIO SOphy ! Your laws
Only hard words for matter bring
Which teach us nought— te ll not th e cause
Or use or end of any thing .
Why are our learn e d then so proud,Thinking to bring us to the ir b ow,
The ir ignorance wisdom allowed,Who know not that they do not know ?
O r that beasts breath doth downwards go,
O r that men’s souls do upward rise ,No post from that world te ll s you know,It puzzled Solomon th e wise .
Thus h e complained, andwas annoyed
Our grave philosophe r, for’s birth
Both made to think and b e de stroyed,
Be lost and turned to colder earth .
I pitied him and h is sad case
And wished our vicar would him teach,
And th e true powe r of saving grace
With holy rh etorick would preach .
1 68 POEMS B Y
Th e le sse r gods on h er soft hands do lie,
Thinking e ach ve in to b e the ir azure sk y
Her charming circling arms made Mars to
cease
All his fierce battle s for a love ’s soft peace ;Sh e on our world ’s globe sat triumphin g
high,
Heaved there by Atlas up unto th e sk y.
And swee t breathed Z ephyrus there did blow h ername
In th e great glorious trumpe t of good fame .
EM IGRANT’
S SONG .
[From Tbe Female Wits,’
a play by th e Duch ess.)
I .
CAPT . Le t’s go to our new plantation,
Le t’s g o to our n ew plantation
And there we do hope
No fear of a rope ,Nor hanging in that ble ssed nation .
it .
LIEUT . Le t’s go to our n ew plantation ,
Le t’s g o to our n ew plantation ;
THE DUKE. 1 69
For he re ’s no regard
Nor so ldier’s reward
In this most wicked nation .
III .
Le t’s g o to our n ew plantation ,Le t ’s go to our n ew plantation ;Each man with his wife
Although ’
tis hard li fe
And poverty i s our foundation .
FORTUNE.
Sh e se eks not worth and merit to advance ,Her sceptre which sh e governs by, i s chance ,Then said th e prince ,
‘O Fortune most unkind,
I would thou wert as powerle ss as blind
THE DUKE’
S EULOGY OF THE DucHEss’
s
POEMS AND FANCIES .
I,
saw your poems, and then wished them mine ;Reading th e richest dre ssings of each line .
If th is b e irony, it will b e admitted to b e b oth
g racefully and wittily expressed.
1 7 0 POEMS BY THE DUKE.
Your n ew-born,sublime fancie s in such store
May make our poe ts blush and write no more .
Nay, Spence r’s ghost will haunt you in th e night
And Johnson ri se,full fraught with venom ’s spite
Fletche r and Beaumont,troubled in the ir grave s ,
Look out some deepe r and forgo tten cave sAnd gentle Shake speare we eping, since h e mustAt be st b e buried now in Chaucer’s dust .Thus dark obl ivion covers eve ry nameS ince you have robbed them of the ir glorious fame .
Such me taphors , such allegorie s fitYour judgment we ighing out your fre she r wit !By similiz ing to th e life so l ike .
Your Fancy ’ s pencil’s far beyond Vandyke
Drawing all things to all things at your pleasure ,Which shews your storehouse i s th e Muse s’
treasureYou head th ’ alembic whe re th e Muse s sitD istilling the re th e quinte ssence of wit
Spirits of fancy, e ssence s so swee t !In you just numbers walk on ve lve t fee t .
I thought to praise you : but alas ! my wayTo yours is night unto a glorious day .
ALLEGORIES AND ES SAY S .
THE MARRIAGE OF LIFE AND DEATH .
DEATH went a wooing to Life : but h is g rim
and terrible aspect did so affright Life that sh e
ran away,and would by no means hearken to his
suit .
Then Death sent Ag e and Weakne ss,as two
ambassadors,to pre sent his affection ; but Life
would not give them audience .
Whe reupon Death sent Pain, wh o had such
a persuasive powe r that h e made Life yield to
Death’s desire s . And,after they were agreed,
th e wedding-day was set and th e gue sts in
vited.
Life invited th e five Senses, and all th e Pas
sions and Afi'
ection s, With Beauty, Pleasure,
1 74 ALLEGORJES
Youth,Wit
,Prosperity ; and also Virtue and th e
Grace s . But Health, Strength, Cordials and
Charms , refused to come , which troubled Life
much .
But none that Death invited refused to come .
They were , O ld Father Time , Weakness,S ick
ne ss,all sorts of Pains , and th e D isease s ; b e
side s S igh s, Tears and Groans , Numbne ss and
Palene ss .
And when Life and Death met,Death took
Life by th e hand , and Peace married them . Re st
made the ir b ed in th e chamber of Oblivion,and
there Life lay in th e cold arms of Death . Yet
Death got numerous i ssue s , and ever since
whatsoever is produced from Life die s . Whereas
before this marriage there was no such thing as
dying, for Death and Life we re single . But
Life proved n ot so good a wife as Death a
husband : for Death is sober, staid, grave , dis
cree t, patient, dwelling silent and solitary
whereas Life is wild, various,inconstant
,and
runs about shunning h er husband Death ’s
company . But h e,as a loving and fond
husband, follows h er ; and when h e embrace s h er
1 7 6 ALLEGORIES
what with his peevish, frowned and cross wive s
and with th e jealousy h e hath of S ickne ss,Pains
and Mischance s,which often ravage him
,h e is
become full of wrinkle s and his hair all turned
grey .
But Virtue and Wit are his sworn friends and
swee t companions, and h e recreate s himse lf with
the ir pleasant, free, hone st and honourable
socie ties .
A DISPUTE.
Th e Soul caused Reason and Love to dispute
with th e Sense s and Appe tite s .
Reason brought Religion : for whatsoever
Reason could not make good, Faith did .
Love brought Will : for.
whatsoever Love said,Will confirmed .
Th e Sense s brought Pleasure and Pain, which
were as two witnesse s . Pleasure was a false
witne ss : but Pain would not, nor could not b e
bribed .
Appetite brought Opinion which in some
things would b e obstinate , in others ve ry facile .
AND ESSA YS . 1 7 7
But they had not disputed long, before they
were so entangled in the ir arguments and so
inve ctive in the ir words as most dispute rs are,that they began to quarre l, as most dispute rs
do .
Whe reupon th e Soul dismissed them ,although
with much difficulty : for disputers are captains
or colone ls of ragged regiments of arguments,and when a multitude are gathered toge ther in
a rout they se ldom disperse until some mischief
is done .
THE M IND AND THE DOCTORS .
Th e Mind was very sick, and sent for Phy
sician s. Whereupon there came some D ivine s,but they disputed so long
,and contradicted on e
another so much,that they could conclude no
thing . On e advised Mind to take a scruple of
Calvin’s Institute s : others, a drachm of Luther’s
doctrine : some , two drachms of Romish treaclesome to try Anabaptists
’ water. Others would
have him bound round th e head with th e Talmud .
But Mind grew sicke r and sicker, insomuch
that h e was almost at his last gasp : whe reupon
N
1 7 8 ALLE GOKJES
h e desired them to depart,For
,
’ said h e , your
controversie s will kill me before your doctrine
wil l cure me .
’
But be ing ve ry sick,th e Mind then sent for
other Physician s,wh o were Moral Philosophe rs .
So,when they were come, they sat round a table ,
and began to discourse and dispute of th e dis
ease s of Mind ,Says on e : Grief i s a le thargy .
’
‘No,
’ says anothe r,
‘ stupidity i s a lethargy ;for grief rathe r weeps than sleeps .
”
‘O ,- but
,
’ said another,
‘ there are dry griefs
that sweat no te ars .”
‘ Pray,gentlemen , dispatch !
’ said Mind, ‘ for
I ’m in great pain .
’
Says on e : Hate is an apoplexy .
’
No,
’ says anothe r,love i s an apOplexy: for
it is dead to i tse l f, though it l ive s to another .’
They disputed so long on this point, they had
almost fallen out . But th e Mind prayed them
not to quarre l,for a . wrangling no i se disturbed
him much .
Then on e said,Spite and envy are cancers th e
on e caused by sharp humours; th e other by sal t.’
1 8 0 ALLEGORIES
sprigs of time , and lay it to th e heart ; i t will
prove a perfect cure .
’
Said th e second : ‘A le thargy is stupidity
and therefore you must take h ot and reviving
drinks,as wine
,varie ty of objects
,and pleasing
conve rsa tion
The’
one that said envy was a scurvy, bid him‘ bathe in so litarine ss and drink of th e wate r of
meditation, where in run thoughts of death like
mine ral ve ins , and it would cure him .
’ And so
they all pre scribed according to the ir own no
tions of th e disease s.
But th e Mind perce iving that they agreed not
in any on e disease or medicine,de sired that they
would depart from him .
‘For,
’ said h e , ‘gentlemen, it i s impossible
you should pre scribe an e ffectual remedy, since
you canno t agree about th e disease .
’
So h e
paid them the ir fee s,and they departed . And
th e Mind became his own physician, apothecary
and surgeon .
First, he’
le t himse lf blood,Opening th e wilful
ve in and taking out th e obstinate blood .
Then h e took p i lls made Of socie ty and mirth,
AND ESSA YS . 1 8 1
and those purged out all strange and vain con
ceits.
He ate eve ry morning a me ss of broth whe re in
were herbs of grace , gathered from th e fie lds
of Scripture , balm of praye r, fruits of justiceand kindne ss, spice of prudence
,with bread
o f fortitude and th e water of temperance . This
breakfast was a sovere ign remedy against th emalignant passions, for it tempered th e heat
,
qualified th e acridne ss, and mollifi’
ed th e obdu
rate passions and fooli sh affections .
Likewise h e did take into his service th e
stronge st , sounde st and quicke st sense s : thesewaited on him,
and gave him intelligence of
everything : and brought him all th e news in th ecountry:which was a recreation a n d a pastimefor him . And by thus do ing, h e became th e
h ealth fullest and jolliest man in th e parish .~
BODY,M IND
,AND TIME.
Body, Mind and Time , had a dispute for
preemin en cy; which dispute was begun by
Time . Said h e : ‘ If it were n ot for me,th e
1 8 2 ALLEGORIES
Body would ne ithe r have growth nor strength,
nor th e Mind knowledge nor unde rstanding.
’
Th e Mind answered : That though th e Body
had a fixed time to arrive to a pe rfect growth,and a mature strength , yet th e Mind had not .
For I,
’ said th e Mind,‘ can neve r know and
understand so much but I might know and
understand more . Ne ithe r hath Time such
tyrannical power over th e Mind to bring i t to
ruin as it hath ove r th e Body .
’
‘Why ,’ said th e Body
,
‘Time hath not an
absolute powe r ove r me e ithe r : for Chance
and Evil Accidents prevent Time’s ruins : and
S ickne ss and illD ie ts obstruct and hinde r Time ’s
buildings . Ne ithe r is it Time that giveth th e
Mind knowledge and understanding, but th e
Sense s , which are th e porte rs that carry them
in and furnish th e Mind the rewith : without which
th e Mind would b e as empty as a poor thatched
house with bare walls,did n ot th e Sense s furnish
it
And I add to it,
’ says Time .
But th e Mind answe red, ‘ Time i s only a
lacquey which brings me ssage s, runs e rrands
1 8 4 ALLEGOEJES
A QUAINT FANCY .
[From N atur e’
s Pictures drawn by Fan cies
The re was a handsome young Lord and a
young beautiful Lady, that did love so mo st
passionate ly and entire ly,that the ir affections
could never b e dissolved : but the ir parents n ot
agree ing,would by no means b e persuaded to
let them marry, nor so much as converse , setting
spie s to watch them .
But when they found they would meet in
de spite of the i r spie s,they inclosed them up
from coming at each othe r : whereat they grew
so discontent and me lancholy, that they bo th
died, just at on e and th e'
same time,to th e
great grief and repentance O f the ir parents who
n ow wished they h adnot been so crue l .
But when the ir bodie s we re dead,these lovers’
souls,leavin g the ir flesh lymansions, went towards
th e rive r S tyx to pass over into th e Elysian fie lds,whe re on th e way they m et e ach o ther . At
which mee ting they were extreme ly joyful,but
AND ESSA YS . 1 8 5
knew not how to expre ss it, for they h ad n o
l i ps to kiss, n or arms to embrace , be in g bodile ss
and only sp irits . But th e passion of love be ing
always ing enious, found out a way, thus . The ir
souls did min'
gle and intermix as liquid e ssence s ,whereby the ir souls became as on e . But after
some gentle“
smooth soft love expre ssions they
began to remember each o ther of the ir crosse s
and interpositions whilst th ev lived in the ir bodies ,at last conside ring of th e place where they were
moving to : whither th e masculine soul was
unwilling to go ,for since h e had his Be loved
h e cared n ot to live in Elysium . Then speaking
in th e soul’s language,h e persuaded his love n ot
to go thither, for said h e °
‘ I de sire n o other company but yours, n or
would I b e troubled or disturbed with othe r
lovers’ souls . Be side s,I have heard
,
’ said h e ,‘ they that are there do nothing but walk andtalk of the ir past life ; which we may de sire to
forge t . Then let us only enjoy ourse lve s by
intermingling thus . ’
Sh e answe red sh e did approve of his desire ,and that h er mind did jo in in all consents.
1 8 6 ALLEGORIES
‘But where ,
’ said sh e,
‘ shall b e our habitation
CH ILD LANGUAGE.
Children should b e taught at first th e ' be st,
plaine st and pure st language , and th e most sign ifican t words . Not
,as the ir nurses teach them
,
a strange kind of gibberi sh—broken language s
of the ir own making— words hashed . mixed, and
minced . As, for example, when nurse s teach
children to go : instead of saying g o, they say do,do : and instead of saying Come to me, they say
tum lo me : and when they newly come out of
a sleep, and cannot we ll open the ir eye s,they
do n ot sayMy c/z z'
la’camwfiwell open h is gyes, but
Th e Duch ess h avin g wr i tten th is'
ch armin g open in g ,
takes a n on sen sical ramb le th rough th e stars ; b ut it
appears to m e , th at for its sug g estive quain tn ess and
b eauty th e fragmen t is wellworth preservin g . How fin ely
mig h t th e auth o ress h ave work ed out of discrepan cies
b etween th e in termin g led souls a roman ce of th e most
pure and delicate fan cy, r ay of th e h igh est moral effect !
Is th ere n o livin g poet to wh om th is fragmen t maysug g est
a poem
I 8 8 ALLE GOA’
IES
grown to men’s and women ’s e state,the ir speech
flows not so e asy or swee t asothe rwise it would .
And so some time s they are taught th e rudest
language first ; as, to say sue/z a on e lz'
es,or to
call Rog ues and th e like name s, and then laugh
as i f i t we re a witty je st !
M ISERS .
A prodigal i s more benefic ial and profitable to
th e Commonwealth than a usure r ; for a prodigal
only make s himse lf poor, whereas a mise rable
man make s himse lf rich and th e Commonwealth
poor .’Tis true riche s are accounted a great
ble ssing and sure ly they are so ; but I take
riche s to b e only a ble ssing in th e use and
not bare ly in th e posse ssion . For riche s is n o t
what we have but what we enjoy : for h e that
hath de licious fruits and will eat sour crabs
hath reviving wine s and will drink insipid water
hath state ly houses and will live in a thatched
cottage— hath store s of fue l and will fre eze with
cold— and hath great sums of money but will
M iser - ab le : i. e . miserly.
AZVD ESSA YS .
spend none— h e i s poorer than they that have
but a little and will spend according to the ir e state .
Yet the se mise rable"< m en that live starvin gly,
slovenly and unwholesomely are commended by
th e moralists and accounted wise men,as n ot
taking pleasure in that they call vanitie s, which
i s to make use of the ir riche s,so as to live
plentifully, pleasantly, gloriously and magni
fice n tly, pleasing themse lve s with what good
fortune hath given them . I for my part had
rather live rich and die poor, than die rich and
l ive poor and leave my wealth to those that will
b e as far from acknowledging my gift with thanks,as it i s l ikely they would rail on my memory
, so
that my wealth would only build me a tomb of
reproache s and a monument of infamy, which
would b e ‘
a just judgment for be ing so unnatural
to myse lf. Miserable men be l ieve they are
masters to the ir wealth,because they have it in
keeping : whereas they are slave s, n o t daring to
use it unle ss it b e in ge tting ten in th e hundred .
But to conclude , those that are miserable"< h orders
"i See previous n ote .
1 9o ALLE GORIES
or unconscionable usurers are like wease l s or
such- like vermin ; for as the se suck out th e meat
of an eg g so they suck out silve r and go ld,and
leave th e Commonwealth like an empty eggshell,
which is a pennile ss purse or treasury .
MARRIAGE.
Those marriage s are commonly more happy
which are made out of intere st than those that
are made from fancy . For inte re st i s l ike brass
which is engraven ; and fancy is like printed wax .
Th e first neve r alters, except it b e broke by ill
fortune ; while th e other i s de stroyed by a warm
breath .
MEN OUGHT N OT TO STRIVE FOR PRE
EM INEN CE WITH WOMEN .
He is e ithe r a foo l or a coward, that strive s
for th e preemin en cy with a woman—a coward
be cause h e domineers ove r weakn e ss, a fool to
dispute with ignorance . For men should use
women as.
nurse s do children, strive to please
and yie ld to them in all things but what will do
them harm . As not to suffer them to degrade
1 9 2 ALLEGORIES
a facile , a false , an envious , a revengeful , a
coward, cann o t b e a true friend ; for all the ir
humours turn th e bias of friendship anothe r wav.
A friend must b e a wise,honest, valiant, gene
rous,constant, swee t and patient man . But
the se virtue s se ldom mee t in on e person—which
make s so many profe ssions and so few per
forman ces in friendships . Mo st people th ink
they could b e perfect friends ; although there
is no thing harde r to perform . True friendships
are ne ither confirmed n or known but in ex
tremities, and those extremitie s seldom come
which make s friendships like bonds that are
unsealed . Ne ithe r can a man so truly know
himself,much le ss ano the r
,as to b e assured of
having a true and constant friend, except by
b ein g on e himself. A man may b e a friend a
thousand years , and in as many extrem itie s (if
it we re possible ), and ye t on e minute may alte r
him . So various and inconstant are th e pas
s ions and affections of men ! So l ittle do they
know themse lve s, as not only to b e willing at
on e time to die , b ut to endure all th e torments
that l ife can bear ; and again at some other
AND ESSA YS . 1 93
time they are so fearful as to b e willing to part
from that which is most dear for hope of life or
ease from pain . And othe r accidents,of le ss
consequence than life,may cros s friendship .
Which make s an impossibili ty of [re al! friend
ship in this world, unle ss a man have an ab so
lute power ove r himself, or an unalterable nature— things that can b e only in th e socie ty of
ange ls . But those that may b e accounted friends
amongst mankind, are they that do time ly cour
tesies ; and to choose friends otherwise is out
of a foolish and affected humour . For on e
cannot say, I will choose me a friend for con
versation only. That i s no friend,who i s but a
companion . So an acquaintance,and a com
panion,and a friend, are several : for I may
have an acquaintance with on e , and h e n o t m
companion ; and lie may b e my companion , an
n ot my friend . But a friend make s th e trian gle .
WHAT DISCOURSES ARE ENEM IES TO
SOCIETY.
Of all discourse s, th e worst enemy to socie ty
is th e divulging th e infirmities of o the rs . Some0
ALLE GORIES
are so illnatured in striving to defame othe rs,as
that they will not only use th e ir rh etorick to make
faults appear more odious,but will strive to
make virtue s seem vice s . To discover infirmi
tie s is ignoble , and to le ssen virtue s th e part o f
an envious man, and of th e nature of a devil.
And since union i s th e bond of socie ty, th e dis
course should always tend to peace , and n ot to
discord . There i s no man but hath virtue s to
praise as we l l as vice s to dispraise and it is as
easy to take th e be tte r side .
Anothe r enemy to socie ty is forswearing and
blasphemy . What pleasure and advantage can
a man have to blaspheme God, wh o hath powe r
to re turn his curse s on his head with horrid
punishments ? It shews little wit, and le s s m e
mory, that men should want words to fill up
the ir discourse with,but what
’
oaths are fain to
supply . And for lying—whe re the re is n o truth
there can b e no trust ; and where there i s n o
trust there can b e n o union ; and where the re is
n o union the re can b e no pe rfe ct socie ty, but
what may b e called a concourse,which i s to
mee t rather than to unite : while socie ty is th e
1 96 ALLE GOKJES
pe titions, and de sire s we offer to Heaven,i t may
b e said, we rather talk than pray . It is n ot
bended knee s or a sad countenance,that can
make our prayers authentical or effe ctual; n or
words,nor groans, nor sighs, n or tears , that can
p ierce Heaven ; but a z ealous flame raised from a
holy fire kindled by a spark of grace in a devout
heart, which fi lls th e soul with admiration and
astonishment at Jehovah’s incomprehensible
de ity. For nothing can enter He aven but
purity and truth ; all th e gross and drossy parts
fall back with greater force upon our live s and
instead of ble ssings prove curse s to us . And
th e ignorant n ot conce iving th e difference may
b e lost for want of instruction the re in, being
most commonly taught th e .varie ties of opinions,th e sayings and sentence s of th e Fathe rs of th e
Church,or be ing exclaimed against for natural
imperfections, or threatened for slight vanitie s .
Many,by giving warning against vice s
,raise
those that have been dead and buried with
forme r age s, unaccustomed and utterly unknown
to th e present auditory . But on e good prayer
that i s directly sent to Heaven burie s a multitude
AND ESSA YS . 1 97
of errors and imperfections , and blots out many
a sin . I speak not this to tax any on e he re ;for I believe you are all holy men , and reverend
and grave Fathers of th e Church,wh o are
ble ssed messengers and e loquent orators for
He aven, th e true guides to souls and th e example
of a good life .
Tk en l/zey ask ea’
,izow t/zey oug k f lo pr ay ?
Whereupon in a zealous passion thus sh e said
O God! O God! mankind ismuch to blame ;He commits faults when h e but names His
name
His name ? saith sh e,nay de ity hath none
His works sufficient are to make him known,His wondrous glory is so great
,h ow dar
Man similize ? but to Himse l f compare .
Or h ow durst men the ir tongue s or lips to
move
In argument,His mighty powe r to prove ?
As if men’s words his power could circle in,Or trace his ways from whence h e did begin,His mighty works to make , or to what en d;As proudly placing man to be his friend
1 98 ALLE GOKJES
Yet poor, proud, ignorant man knows not th e
cause
Of any creature made , much le ss His laws
Man ’s knowledge ’
s so Obscure , not so much
light
As to perce ive th e glimmer ing of His might !
S trive n ot this de ity to comprehend ;He no beginning had
,n or can have end
Nor can mankind His will or pleasure know,We may not draw Him toexpre ssion low.
Let words de sist, le t’s strive our souls to raise ;
Le t our astonishment b e glory ’s praise
Le t trembling thoughts of fear, as praye rs b e sent
And not light words which are by men invent
Le t tongue s b e silent, adoration pray
And love and justice lead us th e right way.
HO -NESTY.
There are two sorts of hone sty, th e on e a
bastard th e othe r true born . Th e bastard is
hone st for by-respects ; as out o f fear of punish
ment e ithe r to reputation, es tate or person, or
for love of th e reward which hone sty brings . But
2 0 0 ALLEGORIES
indeed an hone st man should b e a friend and
ne ighbour to all misfortune s,mise rie s and
nece ssitie s ; helping with kind, loving, and in
dustrious actions in men’s distre sse s, if h e think
h e can assuage them,and do himse lf no wrong .
For every man ought to b e hone st to himse lf as
we ll as another . For though we are apt to con
side r ourse lve s so much as it may b e a prejudice
to anothe r, yet we ought not to consider anothe r
so much as to b e a prejudice to ourse lve s . For
justice to ourse lve s should take th e first place by
nature , where to wrong one’s se lf i s th e greate st
injustice .
*
FLATTERY .
Flattery take s most when it come s into th e
ear like soft swee t music,which lulls reason
asleep, and enchants th e spirits . But if it come
in like th e sound of a trumpe t, i t awake s th e
reason and affrights th e mind,and make s i t
stand upon th e guard of de fence .
Th e W ise man on ly will k n ow h ow to g ive to th ese
sen timen ts th eir prope r lim itation .
AND ESSA YS . 2 0 1
DIV IN ITY AND MORAL PH ILOSOPHY .
D ivini ty and moral philosophy are th e two
guardians of nature : yet some time s they prove
two gao lers, when they pre ss or tie the ir claims
too hard .
COURTESY .
Nothing wins more upon th e soul of m en
than civility and courteous behaviour. It en
dears more than words . For eloquent oratory,
though it insinuate s, yet i s l ike a tyrant that
carrie s th e Op inions of men captive by force
rathe r than wins them by gentle pe rsuasion .
But a free and civil behaviour cause th affection
to run afte r it— it abate s th e pride of th e proud
to mee t it— it en g en tles th e wild and barbarous—it softens th e rigid—it bege ts compassion in
th e crue l— it move s pity in misery— it excite s
love in prospe rity . Most commonly good -nature
hath civil and courteous behaviour but th e civil
and courteous have n ot always good nature s
so that it be comes verity in th e on e and hypo
crisy in th e o the r ; which neve rthele ss please th,though it b e a fair face to a false heart .
2 0 2 ALLE GOBIES
YOUTH .
Youth ought to have good and grave counse l s
and solid studies to poi se it. For if th e bottom
or kee l of life b e not balanced,th e sails of vanity
will Ove rturn th e ship of happine ss . For it i s
not those l ight counse ls that parents do vulgarly
use to give the ir children that make them wise ;as saying Take heed of catching cold
,—or not
eating such and such meats,
’ or teaching them
h ow to put off the i r h at, or make a leg with a
good grace , though that do th well . N or yet is
i t keeping them too hard to the ir studie s,for
that make s them most commonly pedantic . But
send them abroad to learn to know th e world,that they may see me n and manners and obse rve
nature s, customs, laws and ce remonie s . Th e
knowledge of th e world give s a satisfaction to
th e mind : for when they see
’
there i s change ,and that misfortune s are not to b e avoided, they
will not make eve ry l ittle cro ss an affliction , but
take affl ictions as things ne ce ssary and to b e
borne , with patience . And so they shall l ive
more happily and die more willingly.
2 0 4 ALLEGOKJES
and births , degree s of age s, various humours,different dispositions
,nature s and qualitie s
,that
they do,l ike seve ral sorts of fruits
,which
,when
they are gathered and heaped toge ther,soon
putrify and corrupt, and some become rotten'
at
th e core . Whereas,i f every pear, apple . and
plum,were laid by themse lve s apart in a dry
and clean place , they would b e found whole some ,and last as long as it was the i r nature to last .
So if young women we re bred singly,care fully
and industriously,on e by on e
,the re would b e
no dange r of the ir learning from each othe r
craft,dissembling, fraud , spite , slande r, and
th e like . Be side s,whe re the re are many toge
ther of seve ral dispositions , they are not only
apt to catch th e infection -of ill qualitie s from
each Other, but often breed vice s, which ruin
themse lve s, the i r fortune s and famil ie s, and, like
maggo ts,consume the ir e state s or eat a hole in
the i r reputation .
Be side s , all board scholars of th e e ffeminate
sex are l ike sale -meat dre ssed at a cook’s shop,which always taste s of th e dripping-pan or
smoke . So most commonly tho se that are
AND E SSA YS . 2 O 5
bred at schools have a smack of th e school,at least in the ir behaviour— that is
,constraint:
And the ir exe rcises,though they are commend
able in women of quality, yet i t is n ot these
exercise s or oz'
r lues (as they call them in f lab!)which give them good breeding, but to instruct
the ir youth in use ful knowledge , to correct the ir
ignorance with right understanding,to se ttle
the ir minds to virtue , to gove rn the ir passions
by reason, to rule the i r insatiable or distempered
appetite s with tempe rance ; to teach them noble
principle s, honourable actions,modest beha
viours, civil demeanours,—to b e cleanly, patient
and pious ; things which none can teach e ithe r
by example or instruction, or both,but those
that have been nobly bred themse lves .
THE ANT AND THE BEE.
(A FABLE.)
It chanced that an ant and a b ee , wandering
about, me t in a honey-pot th e honey be ing very
20 6 ALLE GOBIES
clammy stuck so close to th e ant and we ighed
so heavy that sh e could not g et out, but (like
a horse in a quagmire) th e more pains sh e took
to g et out, th e deepe r sh e sunk in ; whereupon
sh e entreated th e b ee to he lp h er.
Th e b ee denied h er , saying sh e should become
guilty of theft in assi sting a thie f.
Why,
’ said th e ant , ‘ I do n ot entreat you to
assi st my stealth,but my l ife ; but fo r all your
pre tended hone sty and nice ty of consc ience , you
endeavour to steal honey as much as I . ’
‘ No,
’ said th e b ee,
‘ this honey was sto len
by men out of our commonwealth ; and it
i s lawful n ot '
on ly to challenge our own,but
to take it whe re soever we find it ; be side s
man (most commonly) doth_ cruelly murde r us
by smothering us with smoke , then de stroy our
city and carry away th e spoils .’
Th e ant said,
‘ I hope that th e crue lty you
condemn and have found by expe rience in man,will cause you to b e so char itable as to helpme out of my misery .
’
‘There i s n o reason in that,
’ answered th e
b ee ; for if man doth unjustly strive to de stroy
2 0 8 ALLEGORIES
in keeping or taking what we can justly call
our own we se ldom enjoy it,e ithe r through
losing it or ourse lves .*
WIT.
Wit chee rs th e heart, re fre she s th e spirits ,de lights th e mind
,ente rtains th e thoughts
,
swee tens me lancho ly, dre sse s joy, mourns with
sorrow, p lease th lovers, excuseth falsehoods ,mends faults, begs pardon . Wit is a fin e com
panion,e ither in private clo se ts , full courts, or
on long trave l s . Wit is ne i the r troublesome n or
changeable . Wit hath no bottom,but is like a
perpe tual spring . Wit i s th e sun of th e brain .)
FOOLS .
Th e self-eon eezl‘ea’ fool i s on e that scorns to
take coun sel, _an d n ot only thinks his fancy th e
fulle st of wit, and his judgment th e wise st, and
his actions th e regulare st, but that [us house , lz z'
s
Th e Auth oress h ere but imperfectly poin ts th e moral
of h e r own fab le , n ot th e least tellin g part of wh ich is th eb ee
’
s casuistry.
AND ESSA YS . 2 0 9
horse , k z’
s dog, lz z’
s anything is be st . Not for
th e conveniences of his house, or for its beautiful
architecture or situation ; or that his ' horse i s
th e strongest, soundest, best-natured, choicest
coloured,fullest of spirit, swifte st of race , surest
of foot ; or that his dog is th e best hound to
hunt withal,or th e best spanie l to couch withal,
or th e best greyhound to run withal, or th e best
mastiff to fight withal : i t is not for th e worth
or benefit which h e rece ive s from anything that
h e love s or e steems it ; but h e thinks that what
soever i s good, pleasant, or profitable, is created
so by be ing Hrs.
Th e zt alzizn'
tfool i s all for th e present : for
h e th inks his throat cut until h e b e satisfied in
his de sires . A day to him is as a thousand
years . And h e scarce thinks of heaven becauseh e enjoys it not .
Th e lear n eafl
f ool admire s and is in love withall othe r language s beside s his own
,for if h e
were bred with th e Greek or Hebrew, whichare accounted th e most significant
,h e would
prefer Low Dutch, which hath th e least compass,before it . He i s proud of be ing acquainted
P
2 1 0 ALLEGORIES
with several authors, although his acquaintance
Oppre sse th his memory, smothers his judgment
by th e multitude of opinions, kills his health by
study,destroys his natural wit by th e transplant
ings and en g raftin g s of what h e reads . Then
h e i s so bound up to rule s as to give himse lf no
reasonable libe rty.
Th e super s/z'
tz'
ousfool is an observer of t ime s,
postures,figure s, noise s, accidents and dreams .
As for time s— h e will not begin a journey, Or
marry, or buy land, or build, or begin any work,but on such days as are lucky. For dreams
if h e’
dreams that his tee th fall out of his head,or of flowers
,or gardens
,or anything green
,or
to see his face in a glass, or to fall from a
precipice , or b e at weddings, h e thinks it fatal .
For noise s—th e howling of dogs, th e croaking
of ravens , th e sin g in g of cricke ts, th e screeching
of owls . For accidents— th e bleeding that drops
at th e n ose, th e right eye itching, salt falling to
him . For posture s or figures—a hare to run
across him, or a stumble at th e door. Inso
much as h e never enjoys any present recreation,for fear of an evil accident.
2 I 2 ALLE G'
ORIES
loading himse lf at th e post-house and disburden
ing himse lf to all h e mee ts . He is more con
cerned with a fore ign ambassador, though h e
hath no use of him, than th e ambassador is
with his embassie s . He neve r faile th se ssions,assize s, and executions . He ri se th early
,eats
hastily,walks fast
,goe th to b ed late
,and his
thoughts beat quicker than a feve rish pulse . He
i s full of vain designs ; offers h is service s to all,though h e i s not able to do any ; strive s to
know all things,and takes no time to learn
anything . He make s himse lf his greate st
enemy.
Th e captious fool i s on e that thinks that all
which i s said is meant against him . He hate s
whispering or laughing in any be side s himse lf,and is jealous Of all m en . He i s as a troubled
water, where no beast will drink .
Th e pr odzgalfool i s like a weak stomach, that
whatsoever it rece ive s it casts forth Which
make s his purse like his body, to die of a con
sumption .
I have heard say,that n o wor ld is as on e g r eat
fool ; and in th e world, say some , T/ze zoz
'
se,
AND ESSA YS . z I3
tlzoug lz llzer e be veg /f ew,ar e bur ied in ik e 77 155s
of fools wz'
llzoul mon umen ls.
PERSONATION OF WRITINGS.
Writings are of several and different nature s .
Some are magistrate s that endeavour to re
prove and reclaim men— as moral philosophers .
O thers are attorneys to inform them— as histo
rians . Some are lawyers,to plead in behalf of
former writings, and take action against others—as controversialists . Some are ambitious tyrants
,wh o would kill all wh o stand in the ir way
—as critics . Some are scouts—as natural phi
losoph ers. (But they bring not always true
inte lligence .) Some are han gmen—as sceptic s,wh o strive to strangle not only all opinions, but
all knowledge . Some are ambassadors,sent to
condole and congratulate — as homilists and
psalmists . Some are merchants,as translators
,
which traffic out of on e language into another.
Some are conjurors, that fight with the ir threat
en in g prophecie s Some are cut-purses, that
steal from th e writings of others . Some are
ALLE GOA’
IES
mountebanks,that dece ive and give more words
than matte r . Some are buffoons,that laugh
and jest at all. Some are like God,who is full
of truth,and give s th e due to all dece ivers .
Some are devils, that slande r and injure all alike .
MAN’
S PREEM INENCE.
Some say a man is a nobler creature than a
woman,because our Saviour took upon Him th e
body of a man : and o thers,that man was made
first . But the se two reasons are weak . For th e
Holy Spirit took upon Him th e shape o f a dove
which creature is of le ss e steem than mankind
and for th e pre emin en cy in creation, th e devi
was made before man .
DAUGHTER’
S DYING SPEECH TO HER
FATHER.
Fathe r,farewe ll ! And may that life which
issue s from my young and tende r years, b e
added to your ag e ! May all your grief b e
buried in my grave ; and may th e joys, plea
2 I6 ALLEGORZES
i f h e pleads as we l l for himse lf at God’s tribunal
as h e did for his clients at th e bar,h e will g et
judgment on his side . Nature as we ll as edu
cation made him a pleade r,for naturally be had
a flowing speech and a fluent wit to turn,wind
and form any cause as h e liked best . And had
h e not known th e laws as we ll as h e did, his wit
and e loquence would have covered his ignorance
and supplied th e defe ct of his learning. But h e
was as good and learned a lawye r, as an exce l
lent pleader, and as hone st a man as e ither, for
h e took more pains to plead his clients’ cause s
than pleasure in taking h is clients’ fee s . Ne ither
would h e prolong his clients’ suits to drain the ir
purse s . He pleaded grati s for his poor clients .He not only took pains for his clients, but plea
sure in his own wit ; and not so much pleasure
in those as othe rs didwhich heard him . He re
proach ed no man, nor used railing speeche s nor
violent actions in his argument,as many
,nay
most pleaders, do ; but h is behaviour was civil,his wit swee t, and his Speech gentle . Though
his wit was quick,ready
,and free , it was ne ither
salt,sour
,nor b itte r . Though his speech was
flowing,it was not rough—it ran in a smooth
though full stream, and his demeanour was so
graceful and becoming, that th e on e de lighted
th e eye s of th e beholders as much as th e other
th e ears of th e hearers . But though h is body
b e dead his wit,e loquence, elegance
,hone sty
and abilitie s are living in th e memory of living
men , and will live , by tradition, so long as the reare men to remembe r and speak . Whereforelet us keep his living parts in our minds, and
bury his dead parts in th e grave,— th e on e to
remain in Pe ace,th e othe r in Fame .
A POST-RIDER’
S FUNERAL.
This man did not think when h e got on th ehorse’s back, h e Should ride post to death ; forhad h e thought so,
h e would have chosen to run
a-foot, a safer though a slowe r pace . But could
his soul ride post on death to heaven,as his
body rid post on a horse to death,h e might
outstrip many a soul that i s gone beforehim
, 850 .
2 1 8 ALLEGORIES
A CHILD’
S FUNERAL ORATION .
Be loved Bre thren, -We are th e funeral guests
to a young child , an infant, who died soon after
i t was born ; and though all men are born to
l ive and live to die, yet this child was born to
die before i t had lived— I mean in comparison
of th e ag e of men . Thus h e was born,cried and
died— a happy con clusion for th e child, that h e
had finished what h e was made for in so short a
time,&c.
THE TOBACCONIST.
ere we re two maids talking of husbands
for that i s for th e most part th e theme of maids
discourse , and th e subject of the ir thoughts .
Said on e to th e other : I would n ot marry a
man that take s tobacco for anything.
’
Said th e second : Then it i s likely you will
have a fool for a husband : for though it doth
n ot always work to wise eff ects, by reason some
2 20 ALLE GORZES
g ive so sharp and quick replies,as amongst
some they would b e judged to b e great wits ,
yet come to discourse seriouslv with them,and
they were not much wiser than beasts . But what
do you think of th e Lady Sk arp’
s wit ?
Cen s. Her wit fe tche s th e Skin off th e ears ;i t corrodes th e mind of th e heare rs more than
vinegar th e ton gue s of th e tasters .
Ex . How approve you of th e Lady Cour lly’
s
wit ?
Cen s. Her wit i s tedious , as all complimenting
wits are ; they tire one’s ears .
Ex . What think you of th e Lady l ear n z’
ng’
s
wit ?
Cen s. Her wit is an alms-tub : i t yields nothing
but scraps , re l ics and broken. p ie ce s .
Ex . What think you of th e Lady Suollely’
s
wit ?Cen s. Her wit is l ime
,twigs
,snare s and traps,
to catch fools with .
Ex . How l ike you th e Lady Fan g /s wit ?
Cons . Her wit indeed is a true natural wit —it
i s sweet and delightful , easy and pleasing—asbe ing free and unconstrained .
AND ESSA YS . 2 2 I
WOMEN’
S RIGHTS .
[AN ORATION .!
No ble , honourable and virtuous women—th e
former oration was to persuade us to change th e
custom of our sex,which is a strange and unwise
persuasion, since we cannot change th e nature
of our sex. For we cannot make ourse lve s men
and have female bodie s,and ye t to act mas
culine parts will b e very preposterous and un
natural . In truth we Shall make ourse lve s likeas th e de fects of nature , to b e hermaphroditical,as to b e ne ither perfect women nor perfect men ,
but corrupt and imperfect c reatures. Where forelet me persuade you, Since we cannot alter th enature of our persons, n ot to alter th e courseof our lives, but to rule our live s and behaviours,so as to b e acceptable and pleasing to God and
men ; which is to b e mode st, chaste , temperate,humble , patient and pious ; also to b e housewife ly,cleanly and of few words
,all which will gain us
praise from men , blessing from heaven, love in
this world and glory in th e next .
A PHOR ISM S .
MOST MEN ’S minds are insipid, having no bal
samical virtue the re in ; they are as th e Ter ra
Damnala of nature .
And the ir brains are most commonly barren
grounds,which bear nothing but mossy ig n o
rance—n o flowe rs of wit. Th e course s of the ir
l ive s are like those who dig in a coal-pit; the ir
ac tions as th e coals there in, by which th'
ey are
smutched and blacked with infamy. Or e l se
the ir actions are l ike a sextdn , who dig s a grave
to bury a life in oblivion .
II
THOUGHTS are like stars in th e firmamen t ;
some are fixed,o the rs like thewande ring plane ts ,
others again are only like me teors . Understand
ing is ‘lik e th e Sun,which give s light to all th e
2 2 4 APHORISM S .
V
WIT i s like a lily, th e on e i s as pleasant to
th e car as th e other i s to th e eye . It come s to
fading naturally, and if it b e not t ime ly gathered,it soon withers and dies .
VI
PRUDENCE i s like an oak it is long a g rowingand it i s old before it die s.
VII
MELANCHOLY i s th e North pole : Envy th e
South : Chole r is th e Torrid z one : and Ambi
tion is th e Z odiack Joy is th e Ecliptic line whe re
th e Sun of mirth runs : Justice i s th e Equinoctial
Prudence and Temperance are th e Arctic and
Antarctic circle s : Patience and Fortitude are th e
Tropics .
VIII
MAN i s like th e globe of th e world, and his
head as th e h igh est'
reg ion : whe re in knowledge
as th e sun runs in th e ecliptic l ine of reason,
APHOEISMS . z 3 5
and give s light and understanding to all th e
re st of th e thoughts as stars which move by
degree s in the ir seve ral orbits, some slowe r and
some faster . Ignorance is th e total eclipse . Th e
violent passions are as dark clouds that ve il th e
sun’s face,which is only seen by its Shadows
,
but not in its full glory .
IX
THE WORLD i s a great city, where in i s much
commerce ; and through which runs a great,navigable rive r of ambition, ebbing and flowin g
'
with h Ope and doubt . Thereon are floating
barks of se lf~ conce it filled with pride and scorn—and merchants of fac tion set - forth ships of
trouble to bring in powe r and authority . And
these Ships by th e storms of war are often wrack t,"F
where all happ ine ss and peace i s drowned in
wave s of misery and discontent. But Silve r
vows, gilded promise s and golden expectations,make a glorious shew in all th e streets . And
though substance does not waste, yet i t i s often
i. e . Wrecked.
Q
2 2 6 APHORISMS .
melted by cross accidents and forge tfulness ; and
th e fashions alter according to th e humour s of
th e time . Hard hearts, bo ld face s, seared con
science s and rash actions, are th e brass and
iron that make th e instruments of protection and
offence .
X
FANCIES are tossed in th e brain as a ball
against a wall,where eve ry bound beg e ts an
e cho. SO from on e fancy arise more .
XI
THE BRAINS of men are like colleg e s, and th e
thoughts th e students that dwe ll the re in : thus
many heads may make up an universi ty.
XII
SOME EYES allure hearts, as falconers do
hawks .
XIII
FALSEHOODS are like caps which cover th e
head of knowledge from th e sun of truth : or
2 28 APHORISMS .
XVIII
IT IS BETTER To L IVE
With Liberty than with Riches .
With V irtue than with Beauty .
With Love than with State .
With Health than with Power .
With Wit than with Company .
With Peace than with Fame .
With Beasts than with Fools . lZa/ x: ,,f
XIX
THERE is no greate r usury or extort ion than
upon courtesy ; for th e loan of money is but ten ,twenty
,or thirty, on th e hundred ; but th e loan
of courte sy is to enslave a man all his life .
XX
GOD, by Fortune , doe s not always protect th e
hone st from th e envious, or from th e .accidents
of chance .
XXI
LOVE and POWER are like th e sun . When
th e beams are drawn toge ther in on e p oint, it
burns .
APH OA’
ISM S .
XXII
OF all virtues , PATIENCE hath th e fewe st pas
sions mixed with it : and, though it seems insensible
, ye t it see th clearly into its own mis
fortunes . For Patience be longs only to th e mis
fortune s that concern a man’s se lf. Ye t Patience
should never b e a bawd to a man’s ruin .
XXIII
THERE are wings to perfect love ; but no body
can arrive to th e journey’s end until they come
to heaven .
XXIV
SOME BRAINS are barren grounds,that will not
bring seed or fruit forth, unle ss they are we ll
manured with th e old wit which is raked from
othe r write rs and speakers.
XXV
OTHERS are like foolish husbandmen,that sow
a crop e ithe r too soon or too late,which make s
the ir brains unprofitable .
XXVI
OLD MAIDS are most commonly scorned and
despised, out of a corrupt nature in mankind
which strive s to scandalize virtue .
XXVII
PAIN and OBLIVION make mankind afraid to
die ; but all creature s are afraid of th e on e,none
but mankind afraid of th e other .
XXVIII
THERE i s no sound strike s so hard as th e re
port of DEATH : e specially when affection Opens
th e door and le ts th e me ssenger down into th eheart.
XXIX
TRUE LOVE i s an affection which is very dith
cult to settle , and hard to remove when once
placed .
SOME PA INTERS are only fit‘ for signposts
some wits for ballads .
2 3 2 APHORISMS .
XXXVI
TRANSLATION is a good work : yet translatorsare but like those that shew th e tombs at We st
minster or th e l ions at th e Tower . wh o are but
informers, not owners of them .
XXXVII
ALTHOUGH accidents give th e ground to
arts, yet they are“
rude and uneasy until th ehath polished them ove r.
XXXVIII
MORALISTS are like powerful monarchs whichcan make the ir passions obedient at the ir plea
sure , condemning them at
l
the bar of justice ,cutting off the ir heads with th e sword of reason ;or
,like skilful musicians, making th e passions
musical instruments, which they can tune so
exactly and play so we ll and so swee tly,as eve ry
several no te Shall strike th e ear of th e soul with
de light : and when they play concords, th e mind
dance s in measure th e saraband of tranquillity.
APHOEJSMS . 2 33
XXXIX
IMITATIONS are l ike a fl ight of wild gee se,
which go each on e afte r another ; while singu
larity i s like a phoenix, having no companion
nor competitor, which make s i t th e more ad
mired .
XL
A WICKED man’s heart is like a. snake of wire
put up round in a box, that when it i s opened
by base and crue l actions,fl ie s in th e face of
tho se wh o stand by it.
XLI
PLATONIC LOVE i s a bawd to adultery.
XLII
A MAN may b e as soon dishonoured by th e
indiscretion of his . wife as by h er dishone sty .
XLIII
A MAN Should always wear his life for th eservice of his honour.
2 34 APHORJSM S.
XLIV
TYRANTS may b e said to keep the ir power by
th e sweat of the ir brow.
XLV
TEARS are apt to flow e special ly
brains . But deep sorrow hath dry
tongues, and aching hearts .
S ELECT I O N S
FROM THE
‘CCX I L E T T E R S .
’
BEAUTY .
MADAM,—Th e Lady C ought not to b e
reproved for grieving for th e loss of h er beauty ;for beauty is th e l ight of our sex
, which is
eclipsed in middle ag e and benighted in old ag e ;
where in our sex sits in me lancholy darkne ss and
th e remembrance of beauty past i s as a dis
pleasing dream. Th e truth is,a young
,beautiful
face i s a friend - whereas an old, withered face,i s an enemy. Yet I am n ot of Mrs. U. R
’
s
humour, wh o had rathe r die before h er beauty,than that h er beauty should die before h er . For
I had rathe r live with wrinkle s,than die with
youth : and had rather my face clo thed with
2 38 SELECTION S FROM THE
Time ’s sad mourning,than with Death’s white
hue . And sure ly it were be tte r to follow th e
Sh adOW ' O f beauty than that beauty Should go
with th e corpse to th e grave : and I be lieve that
Mrs . U . R. would do,as th e tale i s of a woman
,
that did wish and pray sh e m ight die before h er
husband,but when Death came , sh e entreated
him to spare h er and take h er husband so that
sh e would rathe r l ive without him than die for
him . But leaving this sad discourse of ag e ,wrinkle s
,ruin and death,
I re st,Madam
,
Your ve ry faithful friend and servant .
THE THREE BEAUTIES.
MADAM,—Th e other day was here th e Lady
J . to see m e , and h er three daug h ters,'
wh o
are called th e three Grace s . Th e on e is black
th e other brown, th e third white— all three dif
Th e Duch ess’sfan cy h as h ere carried h er out of th e
reg ion s of beauty as well as of probab ility.
2 40 SELECTION S FE 0M THE
But it matte rs not what we pre tend to, if we
b e really virtuous, which I Wish all our sex
may b e .
And re st, Madam, &c.
A BAD MAN WRITING HIS OWN LIFE.
MADAM,—In your last le tte r you sent me word
‘ that S ir F. O, was re tired to write his own life ,for h e says h e knows no reason but h e may as
we ll write his own l ife as a man,
’ and since
you de sire my opin ion of his intended work, I
Can only say, that his life , for anything I know
to th e contrary,hath been as evil as Guzman’s .
But whe the r his Wi t b e as good as Guzman’s, I
know not ; ye t I doubt th e -worst. And to write
an evi l life without wit,will b e but a dull and
tedious story— indeed so tedious and dull, as I
believe none will take th e pains to read it, unle ss
h e reads it himse lf. But it is to b e hoped that
h e will b e tired of himse lf, and so de sist from
his se lf- story . And if h e do write his own life ,it will b e as a masking dolphin, or such like
thing,where th e outside i s painted pasteboard
or canvas,and th e inside stuffed with shreds of
pape r or dirty rags . But if h e have any friends,sure ly they will persuade him to employ his time
about something e lse . Some are so unhappy as
to have nothing to employ time with . They can
waste time, but not employ time ; and as they
waste time , so time waste s them . There ’s a
sayin g,Tk az
‘
men ar e bor n to live,and live lo dz
'
e
but I think some are only born to die,and not
to live ; for they make small use of life , an d lifemake s small use of them—so that in effect they
were ready for th e grave as soon as they came
forth from th e womb . Wherefore, if Sir F. 0 .
go forward with his work,h e will dig his grave
through th e story of his life , and his soul-le ss
wit will b e buried therein . But leaving his dead
wit to his paper coffin, and his unprofitablelabours to h is black, mourning ink,
I re st, Madam, &c.
THE AGE.
MADAM —I am sorry to hear wit is so li ttleknown and un derstood, that S ir W. T . should b e
2 42 SELE CTION S FROM THE
thought mad because h e hath more wit than
other men . Indeed,wit should always converse
with wit,and fools with fools : for wit and fool
can never agree , they understand not on e an
othe r. Wit fl ie s beyond a fool’s conce it, for wit
i s like an eagle— it hath a strong wing, and fl ie s
high and far,and when it doth de scend
,it knocks
a fool on th e head as an eagle doth a dotril or a
woodcock . And sure ly th e world was never so
filled with fools as it i s in this ag e , nor have
there been greater errors or grosser follies com
mitted than in this ag e . It i s not an ag e like
Augustus Caesar’s, when wisdom re igned and wit
flourished . But in this ag e debauchery is taken
for wit and faction for wisdom,treache ry for
policy,and drunken quarrels for valour . Indeed,
th e world i s so foolishly wicked and base ly
foolish, that they are happiest wh o can withdraw
themse lve s most from it . But you say, every
particular complains of th e world,’ as I do in
this letter,‘
yet none he lps to mend it .’
Let me
te ll you, Madam, i t i s not in th e power of every
Dotril or dotterel ; a silly b ird of any species.
244 SELE CTION S FROM THE
swifte r. So youth, through its sharp, greedy,hungry appeti te , devours time , as a cormorant
doth fi sh ; for h e never stays to chew,but
swallows down whole fishe s : so youth swallows
whole days, weeks , months and years, until sur
feitedwith practice or fully satisfied with expe
rien ce Youth is not satisfied, because i t hath
not had enough varie ty of knowledge : they know
not th e unprofitable use of variety,nor know
they th e dece its, abuse s, and treacheries of the ir
own kind,nor the ir own nature s and dispo
sition s. They know not what to choose or
what to leave—what to seek or what to Shun .
Ne ither have they fe lt th e heavy burden of care s,th e Oppre ssions of sorrow for losses and crosses ;they have not been p inche d with nece ssity, nor
pained with long sickne ss, nor stung with re
morse they have not been terrified with bloody
wars,nor forsaken of natural friends
,nor b e
trayed by fe igned friendships, nor robbed of all
their maintenance , nor banished the ir country.
Thus be ing tenderly young, they are oppressed
with th e quick repetitions of time ; and the ir
senses be ing Sharp, and the ir appe tite s hungry,
CCXI LETTERS .
’
2 45
they devour time, wh o in th e end devours them—th e meat th e eate r. Th e desire of knowledge
makes every place wearisome . For youth take s
de light in that which is n ew : be ing n ew them
se lve s,they sympathe tically de light in n ew things
-n ew clothe s, n ew house s,n ew varieties
,n ew
sports, n ew countrie s,
n ew companions, n ew
lovers, n ew friends and anything that is n ew,
insomuch as they would rather have a n ew
enemy than an old friend . And thus they will do
until Time turns his back, whereon are written
all th e follie s of youth, which follie s they could
n ot see to read while Time was before them ;for while his face was towards them
,they only
saw th e childish de sire s which were all written
upon Time’s breast . Time i s like a courting
Amoroso, i t make s love to all, and then forsakes
all i t hath made love to . Madam,i t hath but
newly turned its head from you,but it will turn
i ts whole body. At first it will seem to paceslowly from you
,but it will mend its pace, and
at last run from you . Let i t not run without
repining or grieving for its neglects, for n o per
suasion will make i t stay. But,Madam, you
2 46 SELE CTION S FROM THE
will’
be happier in Time ’s neglects than his em
brace s,and will make more advantage from his
hee ls than from his head— for Time ’s head i s
fi lled with vanity,and on Time ’ s hee l s is expe
rien ce . And although Time runs from you,
Wisdom will stay with you ; for Wisdom is th e
son of Time,and became wise by his father’s
follie s ; which are written on his father’s back .
Wisdom waits always behind his fathe r,and
ne ither Wisdom th e son ,nor Time th e father
,
do meet face to face . You will find more h ap
pin ess in Wisdom’s company than in Time ’s
courtships . But le st this le tte r should b e as
tedious to you as formerly Time was, I’ll stop
here . And re st,
Madam, &c .
TALK .
MADAM,—Th e Lady P . R. was to visit th e
Lady S . I., and other ladie s with h er , Whose
conve rsation and discourse was according to
the ir female capacitie s and understandings : and
when they were all gone,Lady S . I.
’
S husband
248’
SELECTION S FROM THE
admire th e words,but th e sense , reason and wit
that is expressed and made known by words .
Ne ither do I admire orators that speak pre
meditated orations, but natural orators wh o can
speak on a sudden upon any subject—whose
words are as swee t and melting as manna
from heaven, and the ir wit as spreading and
refre shing as th e serene air ; whose understand
ing is as clear as th e sun , giving light of truth
to all the ir hearers : who in case of persuasion
Speak swee tly, in case of reproof seasonably,and in all case s effectually. And, Madam, if
you do consider we ll, you cannot choose but
admire and wonder at th e powers of e loquence,for there i s a strange , hidden mystery in it
i t hath a magical influence over mankind—it
charms th e senses and enchants th e mind and
is of such commanding power as to force th e
will to rule th e actions of th e body and soul to
do or to suffe r beyond the ir natural abilitie s— it
make s th e souls of men th e tongue ’s slave s .
Such is th e power of an e loquent speech, that it
binds th e judgment, blindfolds th e understand
ing, and de lude s th e reason . It softens obdurate
CCXI LE TTERS .
’
2 49
hearts, and cause s dry eye s to weep and drie s
we t eye s from tears . It refine s th e drossy hu
mours,polishe s r
'
ough passions,bridle s unruly
appetite s, reforms rude manners, and calms trou
bled minds . It can civilize th e l ife by Virtue ,and inspire th e soul with devotion . On th e
other side,it can enrage th e thoughts to mad
n ess, and cause th e soul to de spair . Th e truth
is, it can make men like gods or devil s— having
a power beyond nature,custom and force : for
many time s th e tongue hath been too strong for
th e sword and carried away th e victory . Also
it hath been too subtle for th e laws,as to banish
right and condemn truth : and too hard for th enatures of men , making the ir passions its pri
somers Wit make s a ladde r of words to
climb to Fame ’ s high tower : and th e tonguecarrie s men further than the ir fee t
,and bui lds
them a state lier and more lasting palace than
the ir hands— and the irwit more than the ir we alth
doth adorn it . But n ow, leaving words and witI re ly upon love and friendship, and re st,
Madam,&c .
2 50 SELE CTION S FROM THE
A DEFENCE OF HER MANNER OF LIFE.
MADAM,— I heard by your last that th e
'
Lady
S . P . was to visit you, whe re amongst h er other
discourse sh e spoke of me, and was pleased to
censure and condemn— as to censure th e cause
and condemn th e manner of my life , saying
that I did e ither re tire out of a fantastic humour,or othe rwise I was constrained in not having
th e l iberty that other wive s usually have to go
abroad and rece ive what visitors they please .
If sh e did but know th e swee t pleasure s and
harmle s s de lights I have by this retirement, sh e
would not have said what Sh e did . To answe r
what sh e said,thi s course of life i s my own
voluntary cho ice,for I ha‘ve liberty to do any
thing or to g o anywhere , or to keep any coin
pany that discre tion do th allow and honour
approve of and though I may e rr in my dis
cretion, I do not in case s of honour, for had I
n ot only liberty, but we re pe rsuaded or enticed
by all th e wo rld’s allurements, or we re threat
ened with death , to do or act anything against
honour,I would not do it ; nay I would die
252 SELECTION S FROM THE
to masks, balls, and plays, yet my thoughts
ente rtain my mind, for some of my thoughts
make plays, and others act those plays on th e
stage of imagination, while my mind sits as a
Spectator . Thus my mind is entertained both
with poe ts and players,taking as much de light
as Augustus Caesar did, to sit with his Ma cenas
and hear V irgil and Horace read the ir works
unto them . So my mind take s de light in its
Maecenas, which is Contemplation, and to have
its poetical thoughts (although n ot like Virgil or
Horace, yet such as they are) repeat the ir pie ce s
and those my mind l ike s be st, i t sends forth to
th e sense s to write them down . None truly
enjoy themse lve s but those wh o live to them
se lves,as I do ; and it is be tte r to b e a se lf-lover
in a re tired life , than a se lf-seeker in a wander
ing humour like a vagabond . They have no
constant dwe lling, for, going much abroad, they
dwe ll eve rywhere , and yet, to speak metaph ori
cally,nowhere . But de lights are diffe rent ; for
th e Lady S . P . de lights herse lf with others, and I
del ight myse l f with myse lf. Some de light in
troubles, I de light in case . And certainly much
CCXI LE TTERS .
’
2 53
company cannot choose but b e trouble some, for
in much company are many exceptions,much
envy,much suspicion, much de traction, much
faction,much noise and much nonsense—and
i t is impossible, at least improbable for any par
ticular person to please all th e several companie s
they come into . Then , if particular persons b e
accoutered bravely they are envied,if they b e
attired in plain , mean garments, they are de
spised : if any woman b e more beautiful than
common, sh e shall b e sure to have female de
tractors and slanderers : and if any woman b e
ill -favoured, i t i s mentioned as a reproach,although it b e Nature ’s fault, n ot hers : if sh e
b e indifferently handsome , they speak of h er as‘regardle ss if Sh e b e in years
,they will say
‘Sh e
i s fitter for th e grave than company if young,‘ fitter for th e schoo l than conversation if of
middle years,the ir tongue s are th e forerunners
of h er decay : if sh e have wealth and n o title s,sh e is ‘ like meat, all fat and no blood and if of
great title with small wealth,they say sh e i s ‘ like
a pudding without sue t and if sh e hath both
wealth and title , they hate to see h er as owls
2 54 SELECTION S FROM THE
hate th e light : if sh e hath ne ither wealth nor
title,they scorn h er company . And thus th e
generality i s to every particular. Whe re fore i t
i s impossible for any particular e ither to please
th e humours or avoid th e slanders or reproache s
of th e generality— for every on e i s against all
and all is against eve ry on e .
But I am not so ret ired as to bar myse lf from
th e company of my good friends, such as do
not translate harmle ss and simple words to evil
sense and meaning, such as are so noble as
not to de tract from or dispraise such pe rsons as
they take th e pains to visit, or such as will not
take it for neglect if I do not punctually re turn
the ir visit or pe rhaps not vis it them at any time ,but will excuse or pardon m y laz y humour, and
not account it a disre spect . To conclude,I am
more happy in my h ome -re tirement than I b e
l ieve th e Lady S . P . is in h er public frequen tin g s- having a noble and kind husband, wh o i s
witty and wise company,a peaceable and quie t
mind and recreative thoughts that take harmlessliberty.
SE IECTHHWI FROM'
THE
tural capacity . Schoolmen have rather taughtmen contradictions than truth
,and churchmen
rather divis ion than union . And so, leavingO . G . and C. O . to agree if they can
,
I re st, Madam, &c.
'
LONG PRAYERS
MADAM,—As for th e Lady P . Y.
, wh o, you
say, spends most of h er time in prayer, I can
hardly be l ieve God can b e pleased with so many
words ; for why Should we need to Speak so
many words to God, wh o knows our thoughts,minds and souls be tter than we do ourse lve s ?
Christ did not teach us long prayers, but a Short
on e . Nay,if it we re lawful for men to similize
God to his creature s (which I think i t is not)God might b e tired with long and tedious pe ti
tions or often repetitions . But,Madam
,good
deeds are bette r than good words,insomuch as
on e good deed is be tter than a thousand good
words ; on e act of upright justice or pure charity
is be tte r than a book full of prayers, a tem
perate life is be tter many time s than‘
a praying
CCXI LETTERS .
’2 57
l ife . For we may b e intemperate even in our
prayers, as to b e superstitious or idolatrous . In
sooth every good deed is a praye r, for we do
good for God’s sake as be ing pleasing to him .
A chaste,hone st,
’
just,charitable
,temperate life ,
is a devout life ; and worldly labour is devout,as to b e hone stly industrious to g et and prudent
to thrive that on e may have whe rewithal to give .
There is no poor beggar but had rather a penny
than a blessing, for they te ll you that they shall‘ starve with a Dz
’
en Don s assz'
s/e, but b e re lieved
with a den ar ’ Wherefore th e Lady P . Y. will
starve herself and waste h e r life out before th e
natural time which will b e a kind of se lf-murde r
and I hold se lf-murder th e greate st sin, though
it should b e done in a pious form or manner.
But to he lp a friend in distre ss i s be tter and
more acceptable than to pray for a friend in
distre ss— to re lieve a beggar in distress is bette r
than to pray for him— to attend th e sick is be tte r
than to pray for th e sick .
1 But ,’ you will say,
1 Th is perh aps is too stron gly stated. All th e b est th at
we can do for a fr iend is only temporary and limited,
wh ile in prayin g to God on h is b eh alf we invoke th e
SELECTION S FROM THE
‘ bo th do we ll .’ I say, i t i s we ll said and we ll
when it i s done, but th e on e must not hinde r th e
othe r . Wherefore We ought n ot to leave th e
world to pray, but to live in th e world to act togood use s . And it i s not enough to give for
th e poor,but to see that th e poor b e not cozened
of the ir gifts . Wherefore we ought to distribute
our gifts ourse lve s,and to b e industrious to know
and to find out those that do truly and n o t
fe ignedly want . Ne ithe r must ou 'r gifts make
th e poor idle , but set th e idle poor to work .
But, perchance if th e Lady P. Y. heard me, sh e
would say, I was on e of those that did speak
more good words than act good deeds, or that
I ne ither spent my time in praying nor pious
acting . Indeed I canno t as th e proud Pharisee
brag and boast of my good deeds,but with th e
poor Publican , I must say, Lord k aoe mere)! on
me, a mz’
seraéle se'
n n er But my condition
assistan ce and kindn ess of a friendwh ose power is in fin iteandwh ose g ifts are o f etern al value . O f th e two , praye r
is b etter , b ut of a certain ty it oug h t to g o h and in h and
with practical b en evolen ce , Th e Duch ess somewh atcorrects h e rself in th e succeedin g sen ten ces.
2 60 SELECTION S FROM THE
through a neglect of governing, for there i s an
old true saying, Tk e M asz‘er
’
s eye mak es life lzor se
f at ; or, through a timorous fear of command
ing,for many masters are afraid to command a
peremptory se rvant,be ing more in awe of th e ser
vant,than th e servant of th e maste r ; or, through
much clemency,giving the ir se rvants the ir will s
so much as that they neglect the ir dutie s ; or,through the i r prodigality, whereby they make
themse lve s poor to enrich the ir se rvants, so as
th e servant become s greater than th e master .
A g ood servan t is a lr easn re,says Solomon,
and so I think, to a servant, i s a good master,if th e servant have wit to perce ive it . But
a good maste r i s to know h ow to command,when to command
,and
'
what to command
also when to bestow,and how much to be stow
also to fit servants to employment and employ
ments to servants : also, h ow and when to
re strain them and when to give them liberty :
also to observe which of his se rvants b e fit
to b e ruled with auste rity or severity and which
with clemency and to reward and punish properly,time ly and justly : l ikewise when to make them
CCXI LETTERS .
’
2 6 1
work and when to let them play a sport : when
to keep them at a distance and when to associate
himse lf with them . And truly,I should sooner
choose to associate myse lf with th e company
of my servants, had they good breeding, or
We re capable to learn and imitate what did
be long to good behaviour,than with stran gers ;
for g ood servants are friends as we ll as servants .
But,Madam
,if I write any more I shall g o near
to make you a servant to
Your Ladyship’s Servant .
DIVERSITIES OF WIT.
*
MADAM,—Since I wrote to you I have several
times conve rsed with Mrs . R. E. and I find h er witruns in a part, like music, where there must b eseveral partie s to play and sin g several parts .Sh e i s not a who le concert herse lf ne ither
can sh e play th e grounds of wit— but ye t sh e
can make a shift to fi ll up a no te . And it isto b e observed that wit in several persons runs
See an te p . 2 19 , Wits.
’
2 6 2 SELECTION S FROM THE
on seve ral subjects, but few have g eneral wits
so as to p lay musically on every subject,e specially without making a fault : for I have
known some on some particular subjectswill
b e wonde rful wit ty and on others me re dunce s
and idiots . And for parts of wit some h ave
gossiping wit,as n ur se wit
,also wafer -and
k ippocr as wit, ale-and—cak e wit ; as at christen
ings , churchings and othe r gossipin gs . O the rs
have ér idal wit, g amesome wit
, g aming wit,
taver n wit,— and some have cour t wit. But
all the se are but th e scum and dregs of wit
on ly scum wit swims on th e top and soon
bo il s ove r, and dr eg wit l ie s at th e bo ttom and
is hardly stirred without much motion to raise
it up . Thus several sorts of wit run about
amongst mankind . Mrs . T . E .
’
S wit i s a Platon ic
wit,as loving friendships and th e conversation
of souls,but take h er from th e Platonics and
sh e i s gone bdth from wit and understanding,so , leaving h er to h er single se lf and h er wit
to h er Platonic lover, I re st
Madam,&c .
2 64 SELE CTION S FROIPI THE
haste to obey the ir commands . Such and
many th e like ceremonie s and foolerie s there
are of this kind from men to women, but theseare rather from strangers than dome stic ac
quain tan ces. And so leaving men to the ir
constrained civ il itie s and fe igned admirations,
I re st,Madam, &c .
THE WIFE-MARKET .
MADAM,—I cannot wonde r that Mrs. F. G . i s
so de sirous of a husband,for I obse rve that all
unmarried women, both maids and widows, are
th e like insomuch that there are more custome rs
that go to Hymen’s marke ts—which are churche s,
p lays, balls, masks, marriage s, &c .
— than there
are husbands to b e so ld . And all pri ce s are
bidden the re, as beauty, birth, breeding, wit and
virtue— though virtue i s a co in Whereof is n ot
much . But husbands are so scarce , e specially
good,
one s,as they are at such rates that an
indifferent price will not purchase them . Where
fore those that will buy them must b e so rich
a s to b e able to bestow an extraordinary price
‘ CCXI LE TTERS .
’
2 65
of beauty, birth, breeding, wit or virtue— and
yet the re’s much ado to purchase on e— nay
some canno t b e had without all the se jo ined
into on e . Venus ’s marke ts are so we ll stored
of all sorts and degree s of title s, profe ssions,
age s and th e like , as that they are as cheapas old macke re l ; and all co ins are current the re
but virtue,whereof none i s eve r offered .
’Tis
true th e marke ts of Venus and Hymen are in
on e and th e same city or place , but Hymen
and Venus sell apart I rest,
Madam,&c.
A PURITAN DAME.
MADAM,— Ye sterday Mrs . P . I . was here to visitme
, who prayed me to pre sent h er humble serviceto you ; but S ince you saw h er sh e has becomean alte red woman, as be ing a sanctified soul,a Spiritual S iste r . Sh e hath left curling h er
hair, black patche s are become abominable toh er
, laced shoe s and g alosh oes are steps to
pr ide , to g o bare -necked sh e accounts worsethan adultery : fan s, ribbons, pendants, ne ck
2 66 SELECTION S FROM TfIE
lace s and th e like are th e temptations of Satan
and th e signs of damnation . But sh e i s not
only transformed in h er dre ss,but h er garb.
and Spee ch and all h er di scourse , insomuch
as you would n ot know h er if you saw h er,
unle ss you we re informed who Sh e was . Sh e
speaks of nothing but heaven and purification,
and afte r some discourse Sh e asked me ‘What
posture I thought was th e be st to b e used
in praye r ?’ I said ‘ I thought no posture was
more be coming, nor did fit devotion be tte r,than knee l ing
,for that posture did in a manne r
acknowledge from whence we came and to
what we shall re turn : for th e scripture says
Fr om car t/z we came and to car t!: we sk all
r etur n .
’ Then sh e Spoke‘of praye rs and is all
for extemporary praye rs : I told h er that‘th e
more words we used in praye r th e worse they
were accepted,for I thought a silent adoration
was be tter accepted of God than a se lf
conce ited babbling .
’ Then Sh e asked me‘ If
I thought on e might not b e refined by tempering
his passions and appe tite s , or by banishing th e
worst of them from th e soul and body to that
2 68 SELECTION S FROM THE
MODE.
MADAM ,— I have obse rved that there are
amongst mankind as often mode -
phrase s in
spee ch as mode -fashions in clothe s and behaviour :
and so moded are they that the i r discourse i s
as much decked with those phrase s,as the ir
clothes with several-coloured ribbons, or hats
with feathers , or bodie s with affected motions .And whosoeve r doth discourse out of th e mode
i s as much de spi sed as if the ir clo the s or
behaviours we re out of fashion . They are
accounted fools or ill-bred persons . Indeed
most men and women in this ag e , in most
nations in Europe , are nothing but mode ;as mode -minds
,mode -bodie s
,mode- appe tite s,
mode -behaviours, mode—clothe s , mode -pastime s
or vice s, mode - spee che s and conve rsations .
And what i s strange they have minds according
to th e mode , as to have a mode -judgment .
For all will give the i r judgments and opinions
according to th e mode,and they love and hate
according to th e mode,they are courageous
or cowardly according to th e mode , approve
CCXI LETTERS .
’
2 69
or dislike according to th e mode , nay the ir
wits are pointed according to th e mode , as
to raille ry,buffoon ly je st and th e l ike—for
bette r wit is not usually th e mode,as be ing
. always out of fashion amongst your mode
gallants : but true and good wit live s wi th
th e serious of all time . Grave , experienced and
wise men give the ir judgment n ot accordin g
to th e mode or fashion but according to
probability, sense and reason . Ne ither do they
say Such or such a thin g will or Shall b e or is
so,Why ? Because i t is th e gene ral Opinion
but they say‘ Such or such a thing may b e
or is like ly to b e,or is so
,Why ? Be cause
there i s a probability or reason of it . ’ Ne ither
do th e just or wise hate or love,approve or
dislike,be cause i t is th e mode—as to hate
what is not generally loved or love what is
not generally hated, or de spi se what is generally
disliked or admire what is generally commended,but they hate what i s really bad
,wicked or
base,and not what is thought so : and love
what is really good, virtuous and worthy, not
for th e gene ral opinion but for th e truth . And
2 7 0 SELECTION S FROM THE
they admire and commend,de spi se or scorn,
disl ike or disapprove that which i s de spi cable
or discommendable or scorn ab le They
Speak not with mode phrase s but such words
as are mo st plain to b e understood,and the ir
behaviours are those which are mo st manly
and least apish , fantastical or constrained .
The i r clo the s are such as are most use ful,
easy and becoming. The ir appe tite s do not
re l ish mode -meats or sauce s be cause they have
th e mode k an t g odt, but re li sh be st what i s
most pleasing and savoury to the ir taste . Ne ither
do they affect mode -songs or sounds because
they are in th e fashion to b e sung or played,but because they are we ll-set tune s o r we ll
composed music or witty'
son g s or we l l sung
by good vo ice s or we ll played on good in stru
ments . They do ' not follow mode -vice s or
vanitie s for fashion n or th e exe rc ises that
are in mode - but those they like be st . If
it b e th e mode to play at tennis, or paille—maille1
" A g ame , of wh ich th e most common memorial
remain s in th e street on ce appropriated to th at use , as
was afterwards th e Mall in St. James’
s Park . It is
2 7 2 SELECTION S FROM THE
wits, to the ir mode quarre l s and friendships,to the ir mode lying and dissembling : I rest,
Madam,&c .
SPEAK ING THE BEST OF ALL MEN .
MADAM, -Iwas reading to -day several satire s of
several famous poe ts, where in I find that they
praise themse lve s and dispraise all others, which
expre sses a great se lf-dotage and a ve ry ill
nature . Madam, I wish all write rs would use the i r
pens as your noble Lord and Husband orde rs
his discourse in speech, to speak th e be st of
all men ,and to bury the ir faults in silence
,
which would make virtue an emulation and
faults such a nove lty as men would b e ashamed
to commit them . I am
Madam, &c.
A CONVENTICLE.
MADAM,—S ince I last wro te to you
,
1 I have
been to hear Mrs . P . I . preach, for now sh e i s,
1 See pag e 265 , A Puritan Dam e .
’
CCXI LETTERS .
’
2 7 3
as I believed Sh e would b e , a preaching sister .There we re a great many holy sisters and holy
bre thren met toge ther, where many took the ir
turns to preach : for as they are for liberty
of conscience,
so they are for liberty of
preaching . But there were more se rmons than ‘
learning and more words than reason . Mrs.
P . I . began, but h er sermon I do not we llremembe r, and after sh e had sighed and winded
out h er devotion, a holy brothe r stood up
and preached thus, as I shall briefly re lateto you
Dearbz beloved br eth r en and sister s,We ar e
g ath er ed tog eth er in th e Lord with pur ity of
spir it to pr each h is Word among st us. We ar e
th e ch osen and th e elect ch ildr en of th e Lord,
wh o h ave g lor ified spir its and san ctified souls .
We h ave th e spir it of God in us wh ich in spir es
us to pray and to pr each as also to call upon
h is name and to r emember h im of h is pr omise
to un ite and g ath er us tog eth er un to h is N ew
j er usalem,separating us fr om r eprobates, th at
we may n ot be defiled with th eir pr esen ce f or
you dear br eth ren k n ow by th e spir it th at they
2 7 4 SELECTION S FROM THE
ar e n ot th e ch ildr en of th e Lord but Satan’
s
ch ildr en w th ey ar e th e ch ildr en of dar k n ess we
th e ch ildr en of lig h t ; we ar e g lorified and san c
tified by super n atural g r ace, we ar e a peculiar
people and th e h olypr oph ets of th e Lord, tofor esee
for etell anddeclar e h is will and pleasur e also we
ar e to en courag e and comfor t th e Sain ts in afl iction
and con solation and to h elp th em to pr esen t th eir
San ctified sig h s, tear s andg roan s un to th e Lord
but th e spir it moveth me to pray and to leave of
pr each ing wh er efore let us pray .
So after th e holy brother had done his prayer
Mr . M . N .,wh o was there , pulled off his peruke
and put on a night-cap , Where in h e appeared
so like a holy brothe r as they took him for
on e of the ir sect, and h e preached this following
sermon
Dear ly beloved br eth r en , We ar e h er e met in
a cong r eg ation tog eth er , some to teach,oth er s to
lear n : but n eith er th e teach ing n or lear n ing
can be any oth er way but n atural and according
to human capacity,f or we can n ot be celestialwh ilst
we ar e ter r estr ial,n eith er can we be g lor ified
wh ilst we ar e mor tal, n or yet can we ar r ive to
2 76 SELECTION S FROM THE
or two ladie s more that were of my company
stayed, and when h e had done his short prayer
h e told me and th e other ladie s,that h e had
done that which th e great council of state could
not do,for h e had by on e Short discourse
dispersed a company of sectarie s without noise
or disturbance . I subscribe myse lf,
Madam, &c.
SCRIPTURE OUGHT N OT TO BE PARA
PHRASED.
MADAM,— You were pleased to te l l me in your
last le tte r,that you had Spent most of th e morn
Ing in reading a n ew work, which i s highly com
mended,viz .
,Paraphrase s on th e life of some
of th e holy proph ets and kings. I cannot say,but it may b e pleasing to read but I doubt
whether it will b e we ll to write it ; for whosoeve r
doth h e ighten th e sacred scriptur e s by poetical
expressions doth translate i t to th e nature of
a romance , for th e ground of a romance i s
for th e most part truth , but upon those truths
are fe ignings bui lt ; and certainly th e scripture,
CCXI LETTERS .
’
2 7 7
and fe ignings ought n ot to b e mixed toge the r .
For so holy a truth ought n ot to b e expre ssed
fabulously . Wherefore in my Opinion no subje ct
i s so unfit for poetical fancie s as th e scripture ;for though poetrv i s divine yet it ought n ot
‘to obstruct and obscure th e truth of sacred
historical prose .
’Tis true D ivine poe tical
rapture s such as David’
s psalms are com
mendable and admirable, be ing an effect of
a devout soul and zealous spirit, which flame s
into poetical rapture s and is inspired with a
divine influence de live ring itself through h armon ious numbe rs, sympathetical rhythms, elegant
phrase s and e loquent language,all which is
presented to God from th e heart as an offering
or sacrifice of thanksgiving, or an imploring
of mercy, or an humble acknowledgment of
sins and promise of amendment,which sacred
poems are expre ssed in a tragic ve in conce rning
sins,and in a comic ve in concerning ble ssings .
And poe ts in the i r morning hymns are like
th e larks that begin th e day,and in the ir
evening hymns like th e n ightingales which
begin th e night . Thus divine poets are heaven’s
2 7 8 SELECTION S FRoM THE
birds, that sing to God, and the ir divine poems
are the ir brood which are kept in th e cageof memory, and sing the ir parents
’ note s to
afte r age s . But, Madam, perchance you will
think I am p eremptory , to give my opinion
of th e poe t’s work before I see it,but I give
my Opinion only upon th e ground of his work ,which is th e scripture, saying it ought not to
b e paraphrased . Be side s,I give it from my
conscience not from my con ce ited brain, and
perchance I may alter my opinion upon more
rational arguments from those that are more
learned and knowing than myse lf ; and if your
Opinion differs from mine pray send it me in
your next le tte r, for I Would willingly b e of
your Opinion be lieving you cannot err, nor can
I,in expre ssing myse lf,
Madam,
Your very faithful friend and devoted servant .
GOSSIPING .
MADAM,—In your last le tte r you say that th e lady
G . P . carried a le tter sh e rece ived from Mrs. O . B .
2 80 SELECTION S FROM THE
a luxury to talking and company,l ike as other
g ossips out of a luxury to talking and eating,carried th e le tter ‘ to Show h er several ac
quaintance Sport, or to g et other acquaintance .
And if Sh e had n ot had that le tte r ’tis like ly
sh e would have found some other pre tence
rather than have stayed at home . Indeed , on e
may say that in this ag e there i s a malignant
contagion of gossiping, for not only on e woman
infects ano ther,but th e women infect th e men
,
and then on e man infects another ; nay, i t
Spreads so much as i t takes hold even on
young children, so stron g and infectious i s this
malignity. But if any will avoid it they must
eve ry morning anoint the sole s of the i r fee t
with th e oil of slackne ss and bathe every limb
in a bath of re st,then they must put into the i r
ears some drops of quie t to strengthen th e
brain against vaporous n o i se and stop the ir
ears with a little woo l of deafne ss to keep out
th e wind of idle discourse , also they must wash
the ir eye s with th e wate r of obscurity le st th e
glaring light of vanity should weaken them , and
they must take some e lectuary of contemplation,
CCXI LE TTERS .
’
2 8 I
which is very soverain to comfort th e spirits,and they must drink cooling juleps of discre tion
which are good against th e feve r of company,
and if they take some je lly of restraint they
will find it to b e an exce llent remedy against
this malignity,only they must take great care
lest they be too re lax to persuasion, but rathe r
so restringent as to b e obstinate from enteringinto a concourse ; for there i s nothing moredange rous in all malignant disease s than throngs
or crowds of people ; and this is th e best prepara
tive against th e plague of gossiping . But for fear
with writing too long a le tter I should fall into
that disease I take my leave and rest,
Madam,
Your very faithful friend and servant.
CONVERSATION REQU IRES WITTY
OPPOSITES .
MADAM,— He re was th e Lord W . N . to Visit me
whose discourse, as you say, i s like as a pair of
b e llows to a spark of fire in a chimney, whe re are
2 8 2 SELECTION S FROM THE
coals or wood ; for as this spark would sooner go
out than enkindle th e fue l,if i t we re not blown ,
so his discourse doth set th e he are rs brain on a
light flame , which heats th e wit, and enlightens
th e unde rstanding . Th e truth is,great wi ts might
b e thought,or seem fools, if they had not wit
to discourse,but th e greate st wits that are
,or
eve r were,canno t discourse wittily
,unle ss they
e ithe r imagine or e lse have a real witty Opposite
to d iscourse wi ttily too . Like as those that can
skilfully fence , canno t fence unle ss they have an
opposite to fence with ; or like as those that
can skil fully play at tennis , cannot play, unle ss
they have a skilful opposite ; they may toss th e
ball,but not play a game ; th e same i t i s in
conve rsation and discourse ; the re i s none can
discourse we ll,wise ly or wittily, but with wise
and witty opposite s, othe rwise the ir discourse
will b e extravagant,and as it were out of time
or season . But th e Lord W . N .
’
S wit is a well
seasoned wit, bo th for reason , time and company,to which I leave him and re s t,
Madam ,
Your faithful friend and servant .
2 534,
I can serve you by serving h er, command
me and I shall hone stly obey you and so
rest,
Madam,
your faithful Fr iend and Servant .
'
TIIFZ
I N D E X .
A true Re lation of my birth , breedin gan d l ife , by th e Duchess, 33 .
A Wassa i l Son g, by th e Duke , 138 .
A Limbo , by th e Duke . 137 .
A Mode l Husban d , by th e Duke . 146.
A D ispute , by th e Duchess, 1 7 6.
A Qua in t Fan cy, 184.
A man should b e hon est to himse l f,199.
A Puri tan Dame , 265Advice to Pre ache rs, 195.
A l legories, E ssays and Aphorisms,by th e Duche ss, 1 7 1 .
An Ae rial Fe ast , by th e Duke , 144 .
An t an d th e Be e , Th e , fable of, 2 05 .
Aphorisms, 2 2 2-234.
Apo logy for h e r Poe try, 8 1 .
Au to lycus, by th e Duke , 137 .
Bad man wri tin g h is own l ife , A , 240 .
Barrister‘s Fun e ral O rat ion , A , 2 15.
Beauty , 237 .
Be auties , Th e Thre e , 238 .
B eggar's Marriage , Th e , 155.
Body , M in d and Time , 1 8 1 .
Brooks. M r ., 34.
Brothe rs . marriage of th e Duchess’s ,4 1 .
Brothe rs, deaths of th e Duchess’s,42 .
B rydges quoted, 93 .
Caven dish , S ir Charles, accompan iesth e Duchess to En gl an d , 54.h is S ickn e ss and death , 60 .
Charles, Prin ce , an d th e Duke ’scredit, 15.
Child Lan guage , 186.
Ch i ld ‘s Fun e ral O rat ion , A 2 18 .
Civi l i t y to Ladie s, A Gen t leman ’
s ,
263 .
Cobham, Lord, 34.
Co l e ridge ’
s frien dsh ip W i th Lamb , 6.
Comical Hash , T h e , 2 19.
Con ven t of Ple asure , Th e , 93.
Con ve n tide , A , 2 7 2 .
Con ve rsation al requisites, 28 1 .Courtesy, 2 0 1 .
Claren don , portrait of th e Duke by,1 2 .
Claren don , speakin g of th e Duke , 13Daughter's dyin g spee ch to h e r
Fathe r, A , 2 14.
D e ath Son g , by th e Duke , 1 53.De fe n ce of h e r man n e r of Life , 250 .
DeVIl to b e afraid of, Th e , 1 2 1 .
D igby, K en e lm , 5 .
D iscourses are e n emies to Socie ty,What , 193 .
D ivin ity an d M ora l Philosophy, 20 1 .
Don s of Tr in ity, comp l imen t to th eDuchess by th e , 2 2
Duche ss, Quotation s from Poems an dFan cies by th e , 7 .
humour and sty le of th e ,8 .
h e r wan t of con cate n at ion and ofth e sen se of proport ion , 8 .
early ch i ldhood of th e , 10 .
goes to court , 10 .
fl ies W ith th e Qu e e n to Fran ce , 1 1 .
qual i ty of h e r min d and works , 20 .
h e r estimate of h e r own works,2 2 .
Duchess, cal le d Mad ,’ 23.
e ssay on Philosophy by th e , 24.
h e r poems compare d with thoseof Shakespeare and Be aumon t,252 6 .
in capable of dram atic writin g, 2 7 .al legories of th e , 28 .
q uotation s from Le tte rs an d Es
says by th e , 28 .
a Re lat ion of h e r birth , bre edin g,& c 33
c loth in g of th e , 35.
how brough t up, 35.
as Maid of Hon our, 43.visit to th e Con tin en t, 53 .
h er tre atme n t by th e Duke ’s cre
ditors , 54.
h e r man n e r of wr i ting, 64.amuseme n ts , characte r of th e , 65 .
Poems by th e , 8 1 .
to h er Reade rs, 8 1 .
Duke and Duche ss, Tomb of th e , 3 .
Lege n d of th e . 3 .
Duke,choice of th e Duch ess by th e ,
for h is se con d wife , 1 1 .
exten t of h is Memoir , 1 2 .
a baron e t at fifte en , 1 2 .
h is re c eption on th e C on tin en t , 14.skil l in horseman ship of th e , 1 6.
tre atise on horseman ship by th e ,16.
re turn to En glan d of th e , 18 .
re tireme n t in to th e coun try of th e ,19 .
as a dramatist, 19 .
man n e rs of th e , 46 .
characte r of th e , 61 .
Earth an d Darkn ess, 108 .
Eatin g and Drin kin g, O f, 199 .
E legy, by th e Duke , 1 49 .
Elegy upon th e Death of my Brother,An , 1 20 .
E liz abe th , Que e n , 34.
E l oq ue n ce . 247 .
Emigran t’s Son g, 168 .
Epilogue to Fairy Que en , 87 .
Eulogy, by th e Duke , 169 .
Man to h is Mistress, 97 .
Man ’s Pr e -emin en ce , 2 14.
Man ’s short l ife and foolish ambition ,
1 2 3 .
Marriage , 190 .
Fable o f th e An t and th e Be e , 205Fa iry Que e n , Epilogue to, 8 7 .
Fan cy an d Phrase , 1 19.
Fathe r, prin c ip les of th e Duche ss’s.34
- d e ath of th e Duchess ’s. 47 .
F l at te ry, 200 .
Foo ls , 2 08 .
Fort un e , 169 .
Fun e ral of Calamity, 1 14.
of T ruth, 1 14.
Son g, by th e Duke , 154.
Gen tleman ’
s Civil i ty to Ladies, A ,2 63 .
Ge n t lewomen that ar e sen t to Boardin g Schoo ls, O f, 203 .
Gossipin g, 27 8 .
H eavy Grie f, by th e Duke , 150 .
H e rrick q uoted, 8 3.H obbe s flat te rs th e Duchess, 5.
Hodman dod. 86 .
Hon e sty, 198 .
Hymn to De ity, A , 1 24.
Jam e s, K in g, 34.
Jon son , Ben , flatte rs th e Duchess, 5.
Lady dressed by Youth , 1 1 2 .
Lamb’s praise of th e Duchess, inE l ia,' 5.
Lawe s, M r. , Vis i ted by th e Duchess,59.
Life of th e Duke of Newcastle applauded by th e Con n o isseur,’ 9 .
Lon g Praye rs, 2 56 .
Love ’s O in tme n t , by th e Duke , 141 .
Lucas, S ir Thomas and Sir Charles,39.
Lucas , Maste r, th e Duchess daug hte r to, 7 7 .
O X F O R DBy T Combe , E . B . Gardn e r, E . Pic k ar tl H al l . andJ. H .
PRINTERS TO THE U N IVERSITY.
MACM ILLAN’
S
GOLDE N TREASURY SERIE S .
lIFORMLY printed in 1 8mo . , with V ign e tte Title s by S ir
RI. PATON,T. WOOLNER, W. HOLMAN HUNT
, J . E.
LLAIS,ARTHUR HUGHE S
,Ste . Engraved on S tee l by
iN S. Bound in extra cloth, 4s. 6d. each volume . Also
)t in morocco and calf bindings .
b lessr s. Il/Iacmillan h ave,in th eir Golden T7 861q Ser ies, especially
pr ovided edition s of standardwor k s,volumes qf selectedpoetry, and
orig in al composition s, wh ich en title th is ser ies to be called classical.
N oth ing can be better th an th e literary execution ,n oth ing mor e
eleg an t th an th e mater ialwor k rn an shéo.
”- BRITISH QUARTERLY
REVIEW.
e G o l de n T r easu ry o f th e B e st S on g s an d
LYRICAL POEMS IN THE EN GLISH LAN GUAGE.
Selected and arran g ed, with N otes, by FRANC IS TURNERPALGRAVE .
Th is deligh tf ul little volume, th e Golden Tr easury,wh ich con tain s
many of th e best or ig in al lyrical pieces an d song s in our languag e,
g rouped with car e and sk ill, so as to illustrate each oth er lik e th e
pictur es in a well-ar rang edg allery.
” —QUARTERLY REVIEW.
e Ch i ldr e n ’s Garlan d from th e b e st Poe ts .
Selecte‘
l and arran g ed by COVENTRY PATMORE .
I
It in cludes specimen s of all th e g reat master s in th e ar t of poetry,
selected with th e matured judgmen t of a man con cen trated on
obtain ing in sig h t in to th e feeling s an d tastes of ch ildhood,and
D
desirous to awah en its fin est impulses, to cultivate its h een
—M ORN ING PO ST.
T h e Boo k o f Prais e .From th e Best En g lish Hymn
Selected and ar ran g ed by S ir ROUN DELL PALMER . A
En larg edEdition .
All p revious compilation s of th is h in d must u n de niably
presen t g ive place to th e Boo/e of Praise. Th e selec
been made th r oug h out with sou n dj udgmen t an d cr itical ta
pain s in volved in th is compilation must h ave‘
been imme
bracing , as it does, every wr iter of n ote in th is special p r o
Eng lish literatur e,an d rang ing over th e most widely a
trachs of r eligious th oug h t.”
-SATURDAY REV IEW .
Th e Fa i ry Book th e Best Popular Fairy S tories . Selec
r en dered an ew by th e Au th or of “ JOHN HALIFAX, GEN TL
A delig h tf ul selection ,in a delig h tf ul ex ter n al f orm f ut
physical splen dour an d vast op ulen ce of proper f az'
iy t
SPECTATOR .
h e Ba l lad Book ,A Selection o f th e Ch oicest British
Edited byW ILL IAM ALL INGHAM .
H'
is taste as a j udg e of oldpoetry will bef ound, by allacouain
th e var ious reading s of old Eng lish ballads, tr ue en oug h to
h is un der tah ing so cr itical a tash .
”—SATU RDAY REVIEW .
h e Je st Book ,Th e Ch oicest An ecdotes and Sayin g s. S
and arran g ed byMARK LEMON .
Th e f ullest an d best j est booh th at h asyet appear ed.
”—SAT
REV IEW .
acon’
s E ssays an d Co lou r s o f G ood an d
With N otes and Glossarial In dex. ByW . ALD IS YVRIGHT,Th e beau tif ul little edition of Bacon
’s Essays, n ow before i
cr edit to th e taste an d sch olarsh ip of M r . Aldis Wr igh t.
52 GOLDEN TREAS URY SERIES .
A ch oice collection of th e sterling song s of Eng lan d, ScoIr elan d, with th e music of each pr efixed to th e words.
true wh olesome pleasur e such a booh can difiuse, an d wz
we trust, th roug h man y th ousan dfamilies.
”—EXAM INE
La Lyr e Fran gaise . Selected and arran g ed, withGUSTAVE MASSON, Fren ch Master in Harrow Sch ool.
A selection of th e best Fr en ch song s an d lyr icalpieces.
Tom Brow n’
s S ch ool Days .By AN OLD BOY .
“ A perf ect g em of a booh . Th e best an d most h ealthy 2
boys for boys that ever was wr itten .— ILLUSTRATED TI
A Boo k o f W o r th ie s ,Gath ered from th e Old His
written an ew by th e Auth or of “ THE HE IR OF RED
With V ig n ette .
A n admirable addition to an admirable series.—WEST
REV IEW.
A Book o f Golde n T h ou g h t s .By HENRY A
Kn igh t of th e Orde r of th e Oak Crown .
M r . A tiwell h as produced a book of rare value
is small en oug h to be car ried about in th epoch et, an dof su
pan ion it would be dificult to weary.
’—PALL MALL GA
Gue s s e s at T ru th .
’
By Two BROTHERS . N ew Editi
MACM ILLAN’
S
G L O B E L I B R A R Y .
'
eauiifully pr in ted on ton ed paper and bou n d in cloth ex tra, g
edg es, p r ice 4s . 6d. each in cloth plain , 3s . 6d. A lso h ept in
var iety of calf an d mor occo bin ding s at moder ate pr ices.
iOORs,Wordsworth says
,are
th e spirit b reath ed
By dead m en to th eir kind
ud th e aim Of th e publishe rs of th e Globe Library h
een t o make i t possible for th e universal kin oi Englis
peaking m en to hold communion with th e loft ie st sp irif th e mighty dead 5
"to put within th e reach of all classe
wmp lete and accurate editions,carefully and clearly printe
pon th e be st paper, in a convenient form ,at a moderat
ri ce,of th e works of th e MASTER-M IND S OF ENGL IS
.ITERATURE,and occasionally Of fore ign li terature in a
ttrac tive Engli sh dre ss .Th e Ed itors
,by their s cholarship and spe c ial study
l e ir au thors, are compe tent to afford every assistance t
> ade rs o f all kinds this assistance i s rende red by origin
io g raph ies, glossarie s of unusual or obsole te words, an
ritical and exp l anatory note s.
Th e publishers hope, therefore , that these
ay prove worthy of acceptance by all class
n glish Language i s Spoken , and by the ir univer
ion j ustify the i r d is t inctive ep i the t 5 while at th e same tih ey Spre ad and nourish a common sympathy with nat
ost“ fine ly touched sp iri ts, and thus he lp a l ittle
‘make th e whole world kin .
”
Th e SATU RDAY REV IEW says : Th e Globe Edition s ar e admiraf or th eir sch olar ly editing ,
th eir typog raph ical excellen ce, th eir c
pen dion sf orm,an d th eir ch eapn ess .
”Th e BRITI SH QUARTER
REVIEW says :“ In compen diousn ess, eleg an ce, an d sch olar lin e
th e GlobeEdition s of M essr s . Macmillan su rpass anypopular ser
of ou r classics h ith er to g iven to th e public. As n ear an approc
to min iatu r eperfection as h as ever been made.
”
h ak e sp e ar e’
s Com p l e te W o r ks . Edited b y W .
CLARK,M .A . ,
andW . ALDIs WRIGHT, M . A . , of Trin ityCo
Camb ridg e , Editors of th e Camb ridg e Sh ak espeare .
Glossary. pp . Price 3s. 6d.
Th is edition aims atpr esen ting a peiy‘
ectly r eliable tex t of th e
wor h s (y’
th efor emost man in all literatur e .
”Th e text
tially th e same as th at (y‘th e “ Cambr idg e Sh ah espear e. A
is a Glossary con tain ing th e mea
is eith er obsolete or is used in
Th is,combin edwith th e meth od
For th e busy man,above allf or th e
th e best of all existing Sh ah espear es .
”A nd th e PA
GAZ ETTE observes To h ave p r oduced th e Ecompleteth e wor ld
’s g r eatest poet in such a f orm ,
an d at a pr ice
r each of every on e, is of itself almost sufiicien t to g ive th ep
a claim to be con sider edpublic'
ben efactor s .
’
p e n s e r’
s Com p le te W o r ks . Edited from th e
Edition s an d Man uscripts, by R. MORRI S, with a M em
W . HALES , M .A . With Glossary. p p . lv. , 7 36.
g en uin e path os, pur e passion ate love. Th e exh austive g lo
in dex an d th e copious n otes will mah e all th e pur ely Scotch
in telligible even to an Eng lish man . Bu r n s’s letter s must i
by all wh o desir e f ully to app r eciate th e poet’s ch aracter
,t
on all its many sides. Explan atory n otes ar e pr ef ixed t
of th ese letter s, an d Bur n s’s you r n als h ept du r ing h is
an d H igh land Tou r s,ar e appen ded. Following th e p
biog raphy by th e editor, is a Ch r on olog ical Table of Bur n s
an d hVoi h s .
“Admirable in all r espects.
” —SPECTATOR.
ch eapest, th e mostpe/f ect, an d th e most in ter esting edition wh z
ever been publish e—BELL’S MESSENGER .
ob in so n Cru so e ,Edited afte r th e O rig in al Edition s,
Biog raph ical In troduction byHENRY K INGSLEY . pp . xxxi.
Price 3s . 6d.
Of th is match less tr u th -lilac story,it is scar cely possible to j ?
u n abr idg ed edition . Th is edition may be r elied upon as con t
th e wh ole of“ Robin son Cr usoe” as it came f r om th e pen
auth or,with out mutilation , and with allpeculiar ities r eli
p r eserved. Th esepoin ts, combin ed with its h an dsomepaper
clear type, an d moderate pr ice, oug h t to r en der th is par exc
th e “Globe
,
”th e Un iver sal edition of Defoe
’s fascin ating n ar
“A most excellen t an d in every way desir able edition .
’
C I RCULAR . Macmillan’
s Globe’Robin son Crusoe is a
h ave an d to h eep .
”—MORN ING STAR .
O ldsm ith’
s M i s c e l lan e ou s W o r k s . Edited,
Biog raph ical In troduction ,by Professor M ASSON . pp . 1x .
Glob e SYO . 3s. 6d.
Th is volume comp r eh en ds th e wh ole of th e pr ose an d poetical
of th is most g en ial of Eng lish auth or s, th ose on ly being ex
wh ich ar e mer e compilation s . Th ey ar e all accurately
fr om th e most r eliable edu‘ion s . Th efaithf uln ess, f uln ess, ai
rary mer it of th e biog raphy ar e suficien tly attested by th e n
its auth or , Pr of essor h fasson . It con tain s many in ter esting
dotes wh ich will g ive th e r eader an in sig h t in to Golds
ch aracter , an d many g raph icpictu r es of th e liter ary lifi’ of 1
du r ing th e middle of last cen tu ry.
“ Such an admirable co
dium of th ef acts of Goldsm ith’
s life, an d so careful an d mi;
delin eation of th e m ixed tr aits of h is p eculiar ch aracter a
a ver y model 0 a literar y bioor aph y in little.
” —SCOTSWAN .
57
e'
s Po e t i ca l W o r k s ,Edited, with N otes and In tro
ductoryM em oir,by ADOLPHUS WILL IAM WARD , M .A . , Fellow
of St. Peter’s Colleg e; Camb ridg e, an d Professor of History in
Owen s Colleg e , Man ch ester . pp . lii. , 50 8 . Glob e 8vo . 3s . 6d.
Th is edition con tain s allPope’
spoems,tran slation s, an d adaptation s,
h is n ew super seded Homer ic tran slation s alon e being omitted.
Th e text, car ef ully r evised, is tah en f rom th e best edition s Popds
own use of capital letter s an d apostr oph ised syllables, f r equen tlyn ecessary to an u nder standing of h is mean ing , h as been p r eserved
wh ile h is u n cer tain spelling and h is f r equen tly perplex ing in ter
pu n ctuation h ave been judiciously amended. A bun dan t n otes ar e
added,in cluding Pope
’s o wn ,
th e best of th ose of pr evious editor s,
and many wh ich ar e th e r esult of th e study an d r esear ch of th e
pr esen t editor . Th e in tr oductory M emoir will be f ou nd to sh ed
con siderable ligh t on th e political, social,an d literary life of th e
per iod in wh ich Pope filled so larg e a space. Th e LITERARYCHURCHMAN r emar h s Th e editor
’s own n otes and in tr o
ductory memoir ar e excellen t, th e memoir alon e would be ch eap and
wellwor th buying at th epr ice of th e wh ole volume.
”
de n’
s Po e t i ca l W o rks . Edited, with a Memoir,
Revised Text, an d N otes, byW . D. CHRI STIE, M .A .,Of Trin ity
Colleg e, Camb r idg e . pp. lxxxvii. , 662 . Glob e 8vo. 3s. 6d.
study of Dryden’s wor h s is absolutely n ecessary to anyon e wh o
wish es to u n der stan d th or oug h ly,n ot on ly th e liter atur e
,but also
th e political an d r elig ious h istory of th e even tful per iod wh en h e
lived an d r eig n ed as literary dictator . In th is edition of h is wor h s,wh ich comp r ises sever al specimen s of h is vigor ouspr ose, th e text h asbeen th oroug h ly cor r ected an d pur ified f r om many mispr in ts an d
small ch ang es of ten mate r ially afi cting th e sen se, wh ich h ad been
allowed to slip in byp r evio us editor s . Th e old spelling h as been
r etain edwh er e it is n ot altog eth er strang e or r epulsive. Besides an
exhaustive Glossar th er e ar e copious N otes,cr itical
,h istorical
,bio
g raph ical, an d explan ator y ; and th e biog raphy con tain s th e r esults
of con siderable or ig in al r esear ch , wh ich h as served to sh ed ligh t onseveral h ith er to obscu r e cir cumstan ces con n ected with th e lif e an d
par en tag e of th epoet.“ A n admir able edition ,
th e r esult of g r eatr esear ch an d of a car ef ul r evision of th e text. Th e memoir p refixedcon tain s, with in less th an n in ety pag es, as much soun d cr iticism
and as com r eh e nsive a bioor a h as th e studen t 0 D den n eed
ow p e r’
s Po e t ical W o r k s . Edited, with . N ot
Biog raph ical In troduction , by W ILL IAM BENHAM, V
Addin g ton and Professor of M ode rn H istory in Queen’
s
London . pp . lxxiii. , 536 . Glob e 8vo . 3s. 6d.
Th is volume con tain s,ar r ang ed u n der seven h eads
,th e
Cowper’
s o wn poem s, in cluding sever al n ever befor e pu blish
all h is tr an slation s except th at of Homer’s
“ Iliad.
”Th
tah en f r om th e or igin al edition s, an d Cowper ’s own n otes a
at th e f oot of th e pag e, wh ile many explan atory n otes by it
h imself ar e appen ded to th e volume. In th e very f ull [Wewill be f oun d th at much n ew ligh t h as been th r own on
th e most dificult passag es of Cowper’
s spir itually ch eque;“ M r . Ben h am
’
s edition of Co wper is on e of perman en tTh e biog r aph ical in tr oduction is excellen t, f ull of inf orsing ular ly n eat an d r eadable an d modest— indeed too in
its commen ts . Th e n otes ar e con cise an d accu rate,and th
h as been able to discover an d in tr oduce some h ith er to u n
matter . Altog eth er th e booh is a very excellen t -SAT
REV IEW .
o r te d’
A r th u r ,
— SIR THOMAS MALORY ’
S BOO
K IN G ARTHUR AN D OF H IS N OBLE KN IGHTTHE ROUN D TABLE. Th e orig in al Edition of Cr evised for M ode rn Use . With an In troduction by Sir ESTRACHEY, Bart. pp . xxxvii . , 50 9 . Glob e SYO . 3s . 6d.
Th is volume con tain s th e cr eam (y th e leg ends of ch ivalry
h ave gath er ed r ou n d th e sh adowy K ing A r th ur an d h is
of th e Roun d T able. Ten nyson h as drawn larg ely on th en
cycle of A r th ur ian Idylls. Th e languag e is simple an d qu
th at of th e Bible,an d th e many stor ies of h n igh tly adven
wh ich th e boo/e is made up ,ar efascin ating as th ose of th e
“ A
IVigh ts. Th e g r eat moral of th e booh is to do af ter th eg o
leave th e evil.
”Th er e was a wan t of an edition of th e war
moderate pr ice, suitable f b r ordin ary r eader s, an d especia
boys such an edition th e pr esen tpr of esses to be. Th e In tr o
con tain s an accou n t of th e Or ig in an d [Matter of th e booh , ti
an d its sever al Edition s, an d an Essay on Ch ivalry,tra
h istory fr om its or igin to its decay. N otes ar e appended,
