Chapter VI: Appendix: No. I (1)

SOME ACCOUNT OF BISHOP EARLE[AX].

All the biographical writers who have taken notice of JOHN EARLE agree in stating, that he was born in the city of York, although not one of them has given the exact date of his birth, or any intelligence relative to his family, or the rank in life of his parents. It is, however, most probable, that they were persons of respectability and fortune, as he was sent, at an early age, to Oxford, and entered as a commoner of Christ-church college[AY], where his conduct was so exemplary, his attention to his studies so marked, and his general deportment and manners so pleasing, that he became a successful candidate at Merton-college, and was admitted a probationary fellow on that foundation in 1620, being then, according to Wood[AZ], about nineteen years of age. He took the degree of Master of Arts, July 10, 1624, and in 1631 served the office of Proctor of the university, about which time he was also appointed chaplain to Philip Earl of Pembroke, then Chancellor of Oxford.

During the earlier part of our author's life, he appears to have possessed considerable reputation as a poet, and to have been as remarkable for the pleasantry of his conversation, as for his learning, virtues, and piety. Wood[BA] tells us that "his younger years were adorned with oratory, poetry, and witty fancies, his elder with quaint preaching and subtile disputes." The only specimens of his poetry which can be recovered at this time, are three funeral tributes, which will be found in the Appendix, and of which two are now printed, I believe, for the first time.

Soon after his appointment to be Lord Pembroke's chaplain, he was presented by that nobleman to the rectory of Bishopstone, in Wiltshire; nor was this the only advantage he reaped from the friendship of his patron, who being at that time Lord Chamberlain of the King's household[BB], was entitled to a lodging in the court for his chaplain, a circumstance which in all probability introduced Mr. Earle to the notice of the King, who promoted him to be chaplain and tutor to Prince Charles, when Dr. Duppa, who had previously discharged that important trust, was raised to the bishopric of Salisbury.

In 1642 Earle took his degree of Doctor in Divinity, and in the year following was actually elected one of the Assembly of Divines appointed by the parliament to new model the church. This office, although it may be considered a proof of the high opinion even those of different sentiments from himself entertained of his character and merit, he refused to accept, when he saw that there was no probability of assisting the cause of religion, or of restraining the violence of a misguided faction, by an interference among those who were "declared and avowed enemies to the doctrine and discipline of the Church of England; some of them infamous in their lives and conversations, and most of them of very mean parts in learning, if not of scandalous ignorance[BC]."

On the 10th of February, 1643, Dr. Earle was elected chancellor of the cathedral of Salisbury[BD], of which situation, as well as his living of Bishopstone, he was shortly after deprived by the ill success of the royal cause[BE].

When the defeat of the King's forces at Worcester compelled Charles the Second to fly his country, Earle attached himself to the fallen fortunes of his sovereign, and was among the first of those who saluted him upon his arrival at Rouen in Normandy, where he was made clerk of the closet, and King's chaplain[BF]. Nor was his affection to the family of the Stuarts, and his devotion to their cause evinced by personal services only, as we find by a letter from Lord Clarendon to Dr. Barwick, that he assisted the King with money in his necessities[BG].

During the time that Charles was in Scotland, Dr. Earle resided in Antwerp, with his friend Dr. Morley[BH], from whence he was called upon to attend the Duke of York (afterwards James II.) at Paris[BI], in order that he might heal some of the breaches which were then existing between certain members of the duke's household[BJ]; and here it is probable he remained till the recal of Charles the Second to the throne of England.

Upon the Restoration, Dr. Earle received the reward of his constancy and loyalty, he was immediately promoted to the deanery of Westminster, a situation long designed for him by the King[BK]. In 1661 he was appointed one of the commissioners for a review of the Liturgy[BL], and on November 30, 1662, was consecrated Bishop of Worcester, from which see he was translated, September 28, 1663, to the dignity of Salisbury[BM].

Little more remains to be added.--Bishop Earle appears to have continued his residence with the royal family after the acquisition of his well-deserved honours; and when the court retired to Oxford, during the plague in 1665, he attended their majesties to the place of his early education, and died at his apartments in University College, on the 17th of November. He was buried on the 25th, near the high altar, in Merton College chapel; and was, according to Wood, "accompanied to his grave, from the public schools, by an herald at arms, and the principal persons of the court and university." His monument, which stands at the north-east corner of the chapel, is still in excellent preservation, and possesses the following inscription:--

"Amice, si quis hic sepultus est roges,
Ille, qui nec meruit, unqua--Nec quod majus est, habuit
Inimicum;
Qui potuit in aula vivere, et mundum spernere
Concionator educatus inter principes,
Et ipse facile princeps inter concionatores,
Evangelista indefessus, Episcopus pientissimus;
Ille qui una cum sacratissimo Rege,
Cujus & juvenilium studiorum, et animae Deo charae
Curam a beatissimo Patre demandatam gessit,
Nobile ac Religiosum exilium est passus;
Ille qui Hookeri ingentis Politiam Ecclesiasticam,
Ille qui Caroli Martyris [Greek: EIKO'NA BASILIKE'N],
(Volumen quo post Apocalypsin divinius nullum)
Legavit Orbi sic Latine redditas,
Ut uterque unius Fidei Defensor,
Patriam adhuc retineat majestatem.
Si nomen ejus necdum tibi suboleat, Lector,
Nomen ejus ut unguenta pretiosa:
JOHANNES EARLE Eboracensis,
Serenissimo Carolo 2^{do} Regij Oratorij Clericus,
{aliquando Westmonasteriensi, Decanus,
Ecclesiae {deinde Wigorniensis}
{tandem Sarisburiensis} Angelus.
{et nunc triumphantis}
Obiit Oxonij Novemb. 17^o. Anno {D[=o]ni: 1665^{to}.
{AEtatis suae 65^{to}.
Voluitq. in hoc, ubi olim floruerat, Collegio,
Ex AEde Christi hue in Socium ascitus,
Ver magnum, ut reflorescat, expectare."

FOOTNOTES:

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

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

_Wood. Hist. et Antiq. Univ. Oxon._ lib. ii. p. 284.

[AZ] _Athenae Oxon._ ii. 365.

[BA] _Athenae Oxon._ ii. 365.

[BB] Collins' _Peerage_, iii. 123.

[BC] Clarendon. _History of the Rebellion_, ii. 827. Edit. _Oxford_, 1807.

[BD] Walker. _Sufferings of the Clergy_, fol. 1714, part ii. page 63.

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

[BF] Wood. _Ath. Oxon._ ii. 365.

[BG] _Life of Dr. John Barwick_, 8vo. Lond. 1724. p. 522.

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

[BI] Wood. _Athenae_, ii. 770.

[BJ] Clarendon's _Rebellion_, iii. 659.

[BK] _Life of Barwick_, 452.

[BL] Kennet's _Register_, folio, 1728, page 504.

[BM] Wood. _Athenae_, ii. 366.

No. II.

CHARACTERS OF BISHOP EARLE.

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

LORD CLARENDON. _Account of his own Life_, folio, Oxford, 1759, p. 26.

* * * * *

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

WHITE KENNETT (Bishop of Peterborough) _Register and Chronicle Ecclesiastical and Civil_, folio, London, 1728, page 834.

* * * * *

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

WALTON. _Life of Mr. Richard Hooker_, 8vo. Oxford, 1805, i. 327.

* * * * *

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

HUGH CRESSEY. _Epistle Apologetical to a Person of Honour_ (Lord Clarendon), 8vo. 1674, page 46.

* * * * *

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

PIERCE. _Conformist's Plea for Nonconformity_, 4to. 1681, page 174.

No. III.

LIST OF DR. EARLE'S WORKS.

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

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

3. _Hortus Mertonensis_, a Latin Poem, of which Wood gives the first line "Hortus deliciae domus politae." It is now supposed to be lost.

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

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

6. _Elegy upon Francis Beaumont_; first printed at the end of _Beaumont's Poems, London_, 1640. 4to. See Appendix, No. VI.

7. [Greek: Eikon Basilike], _vel Imago Regis Caroli_, _In illis suis AErumnis et Solitudine. Hagae-Comitis._ Typis S. B. &c. 1649. 12mo. See Appendix, No. VII.[BN]

FOOTNOTES:

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

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

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

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

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

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

No. IV.

LINES ON SIR JOHN BURROUGHS,

KILLED BY A BULLET AT REEZ[BP].

[_From a MS. in the Bodleian_.]--(_Rawl. Poet_. 142.)

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

J. EARLES.

FOOTNOTES:

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

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

No. V.

ON THE DEATH OF THE EARL OF PEMBROKE[BR].

[_From the same MS._]

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

Mr. EARLES, Merton.

FOOTNOTES:

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

No. VI.

ON MR. BEAUMONT.

WRITTEN THIRTY YEARS SINCE, PRESENTLY AFTER HIS DEATH.

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

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

JOHN EARLE.

No. VII.

DEDICATION TO THE LATIN TRANSLATION

OF THE

[Greek: Eikon Basilike].

"Serenissimo et Potentissimo Monarchae, Carolo Secundo. Dei Gratia Magnae Britanniae, Franciae et Hiberniae Regi, Fidei Defensori, &c.

Serenissime Rex,

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

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

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

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

Majestatis tuae humillimus devotissimusque subditus et sacellanus,

JO. EARLES.

No. VIII.

INSCRIPTION ON DR. PETER HEYLIN'S[BS] MONUMENT IN WESTMINSTER-ABBEY.

[_Written by Dr. Earle, then Dean of Westminster._]

Depositum Mortale
Petri Heylyn, S. Th. D.
Hujus Ecclesiae Prebendarii et Subdecani,
Viri plane memorabilis,
Egregiis dotibus instructissimi,
Ingenio acri et foecundo,
Judicio subacto,
Memoria ad prodigium tenaci,
Cui adjunxit incredibilem in studiis patientiam
Quae cessantibus oculis non cessarunt.
Scripsit varia et plurima,
Quae jam manibus hominum teruntur;
Et argumentis non vulgaribus
Stylo non vulgari suffecit.
Et Majestatis Regiae assertor
Nec florentis magis utriusque
Quam afflictae,
Idemque perduellium et scismaticae factionis
Impugnator acerrimus.
Contemptor invidiae
Et animo infracto
Plura ejusmodi meditanti
Mors indixit silentium:
Ut sileatur
Efficere non potest.
Obiit Anno AEtatis 63, et 8 die Maii, A. D. 1662.
Possuit hoc illi maestissima conjux.

FOOTNOTES:

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

No. IX.

CORRESPONDENCE BETWEEN DR. EARLE AND MR. BAXTER.

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

MR. BAXTER TO DR. EARLE.

"REVEREND SIR,

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

Sir,
Your humble servant,
RICHARD BAXTER.
_June 20, 1662._

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

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

DR EARLE, IN REPLY.

_Hampton-Court, June 23._

"SIR,

[Sidenote: O that they were all such.--_Note by Mr.
Baxter._]

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

[Sidenote: These words I heard not, being in the passage
from him.--_Note by Mr. Baxter._]

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

Your very humble servant,

JO. EARLES."

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

No. X.

MONUMENTAL INSCRIPTION

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

[From Le Neve's _Monumenta Anglicana_[BT]. 8vo. Lond. 1718. vol. iii. p. 182.]

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

RICHARDUS EARLE[BU], Barn^{tus}.
Obijt decimo tertio die
Aug^{ti} Anno Dom. 1697.
AEtatis suae 24.

FOOTNOTES:

[BT] Two other epitaphs appear in this collection, on the Earles of Norfolk, with whom I cannot find our author to have had the least connection. A full account of this family may be seen in Blomefield's _History of Norfolk_, vol. iii. p. 531.

[BU] The title was created by Charles the First, July 2, 1629, and, I believe, became extinct at the decease of this person.

No. XI.

CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF BOOKS OF
CHARACTERS.

No. i.

_A Caueat
for commen Cvr
setors vulgarely called
Uagabones, set forth by Thomas Harman.
Esquier. for the vtiliteand proffyt of hys
naturall Countrey. Newly agmented
and Jmprinted Anno Domini._
M.D.LXUjj.

[P] _Vewed, examined, and allowed, according vnto the
Queenes Maiestyes Iniunctions_

[Roughly-executed wood-cut, of two persons receiving punishment
at the cart's tail from the hands of a beadle.]

_Imprinted
at London in Fletestret at the signe of the
Faulcon by Wylliam Gryffith, and are to be
solde at his shoppe in Saynt Dunstones
Churche yarde in the West._

[4to. black letter, containing thirty folios, very incorrectly numbered.]

I commence my list of _Characters_, with a volume, which, although earlier than the period I originally intended to begin from, is of sufficient curiosity and interest to warrant introduction, and, I trust, to obtain pardon from the reader for the additional trouble I am thus preparing for him.

Mr. Warton, in his _History of English Poetry_, (iv. 74.) has given, with some trifling errors, a transcript of the title, and says he has a faint remembrance of a Collection of Epigrams, by the author, printed about 1599: these I have never been fortunate enough to meet with, nor do they appear in the collections of Ames or Herbert, neither of whom had seen a copy of the present work, although they mention Griffith's licence to print it as dated in 1566[BV].

It is dedicated to Elizabeth, countess of Shrewsbury; Mr. Warton thinks "with singular impropriety," although the motive appears at least to justify the measure, if it does not entitle the author to commendation. He addresses this noble lady as a person of extreme benevolence, and "as also aboundantly powrynge out dayly [her] ardent and bountifull charytie vppon all such as commeth for reliefe."--"I thought it good," he continues, "necessary, and my bounden dutye, to acquaynte your goodnes with the abhominable, wycked, and detestable behauor of all these rowsey, ragged rabblement of rake helles, that vnder the pretence of great misery, dyseases, and other innumerable calamites whiche they fayne through great hipocrisye, do wyn and gayne great almes in all places where they wyly wander."--On this account, therefore, and to preserve the kindness and liberality of the countess from imposition, Harman dedicates his book to that lady.

The notorious characters mentioned, are a "ruffler[BW]; a upright man[BX]; a hoker or angglear[BY]; a roge[BZ]; a wylde roge[CA]; a prygger of prauncers; a pallyarde[CB]; a frater[CC]; a Abraham man[CD]; a fresh water mariner, or whipiacke; a counterfet cranke[CE]; a dommerar[CF]; a dronken tinckar[CG]; a swadder or pedler; a jarke man, and a patrico[CH]; a demaunder for glymmar[CI]; a bawdy basket[CJ]; a antem morte[CK]; a walking morte; a doxe; a dell; a kynchin morte; and a kynchen co."

From such a list, several instances of the tricks, as well as specimens of the language of the thieves of the day, might with ease be extracted, did not the limits of my little volume compel me to refrain from entering at large into this history of rogues; a restriction I the more regret, from its containing several passages illustrating the manners of that period, and which would be found of material use towards explaining many of the allusions met with in our early English dramas and now but imperfectly understood.

"[P] Prygger of Prauncers. (Sign. C. iii. b.)

"A prigger of Prauncers be horse stealers, for to prigge signifieth in their language to steale, and a prauncer is a horse, so beinge put together, the matter is plaine. These go commonly in jerkins of leather or of white frese, & carry little wandes in their hands, and will walke through grounds and pasturs, to search and se horses mete for their purpose. And if thei chaunce to be met and asked by the owners of the grounde what they make there, they fayne straighte that they have loste theyr waye, and desyre to be enstructed the beste way to suche a place. These will also repayre to gentlemens houses, and aske theyr charitye, and will offer theyr seruice. And if you aske them what they can doe, they wil saye that they can kepe two or three geldinges, and waite vppon a gentleman. These haue also theyr women that, walkinge from them in other places, marke where and what they see abrode, and sheweth these priggars therof, when they meete, whych is wythin a weeke or two. And loke, where they steale any thynge, they conuey the same at the leaste three score miles of, or more. There was a gentleman, a verye friende of myne, rydynge from London homewarde into Kente, hauinge within three myles of his house busynesse, alyghted of his horse, and hys man also, in a pretye village, where diuers houses were, and looked about hym where he myghte haue a conuenyent person to walke his horse, because he would speak we a farmer that dwelte on the backe side of the sayde village, little aboue a quarter of a myle from the place where he lighted, and had his man to waight vpon hym, as it was mete for his callynge: espieng a priggar there standing, thinkinge the same to dwel there, charging this prity prigginge person to walke his horse well, and that they might not stande still for takynge of colde, and at his returne (which he saide should not be longe,) he would geue him a peny to drinke, and so wente about his busines. Thys peltynge priggar, proude of his praye, walketh hys horses vp and downe, till he sawe the gentleman out of sighte, and leapes him into the saddell, and awaye be goeth a mayne. This gentleman returning, and findyng not his horses, sente his man to the one ende of the village, & he went himselfe vnto the other ende, and enquired as he went for hys horses that were walked, and began somewhat to suspecte, because neither he nor his man coulde neyther see nor fynde him. Then this gentleman diligently enquired of three or foure towne dwellers there whether any such person, declaring his stature, age, apparel, and so manye linamentes of his body as he coulde call to remembraunce. And _vna voce_, all sayde that no such man dwelte in their streate, neither in the parish that they knewe of, but some did wel remember that suche a one they sawe there lyrkinge and huggeringe[CL] two houres before the gentleman came thether and a straunger to them. J had thought, quoth this gentleman, he had here dwelled, and marched home mannerly in his botes: farre from the place he dwelt not. J suppose at his comming home he sente such wayes as he suspected or thought mete to search for this prigger, but hetherto he neuer harde any tidinges againe of his palfreys. J had the best gelding stolen out of my pasture that J had amogst others, while this boke was first a printing."

At the end of the several characters, the author gives a list of the names of the most notorious thieves of his day, a collection of the cant phrases used by them, with their significations; and a dialogue between an _uprighte man_ and a _roge_, which I shall transcribe:--

"The vpright Cose canteth to the Roger.
_The vprighte man spaketh to the roge._

_Man._ Bene lyghtmans to thy quarromes in what lipk[=e] hast thou lipped
in this darkemanes; whether in a lybbege or in the strummell?

_God morrowe to thy bodye, in what house hast thou lyne in all
night whether in a bed, or in the strawe?_

_Roge._ J couched a hogeshed in a skypper this darkemans.

_I laye me down to sleepe in a barne this night._

_Man._ J towre ye strummell tryne vpon thy nabcher & togman.

_I see the straw hange upon thy cap and coate._

_Roge._ J saye by the Salomon J wyll lage it of with a gage of bene bouse
then cut to my nose watch.

_J sweare by the masse J wyll wash it of with a quart of drinke,
then saye to me what thou wilt._

_Man._ Why, hast thou any lowre in thy bouge to bouse?

_Why, hast thou any money in thy purse to drinke?_

_Roge._ But a flagge, a wyn, and a make.

_But a grot, a penny, and a halfe-penny._

_Man._ Why where is the kene that hath the bene bouse?

_Where is the house that hath the good drinke?_

_Roge._ A bene mort hereby at the signe of the prauncer.

_A good wyfe here by at the signe of the hors._

_Man._ J cutt it is quyer bouse J bousd a flagge the laste darkemans.

_J saye it is small and naughtye drynke, J dranke a groate there
the last night._

_Roge._ But bouse there a bord, and thou shalt haue beneship.

_But drinke there a shyllinge, and thou shalt haue very good._

Tower ye, yander is the kene, dup the gygger, and maund that is
beneshype.

_Se you, yonder is the house, open the doore, and aske for the
best._

_Man._ This bouse is as benshyp as rome bouse.

_This drinke is as good as wyne._

Now J tower that bene bouse makes nase nabes.

_Now J se that good drynke makes a dronken heade._

Maunde of this morte what bene pecke is in her ken.

_Aske of this wyfe what good meate shee hath in her house._

_Roge._ She hath a cacling chete, a grunting chete, ruff pecke, cassan,
and popplarr of yarum.

_She hath a hen, a pyg, baken, chese and mylke porrage._

_Man._ That is beneshyp to oure watche.

_That is very good for vs._

Now we haue well bousd, let vs strike some chete.

_Nowe we haue well dronke, let vs steale some thinge._

Yonder dwelleth a quyere cuffen it were beneshype to myll hym.

_Yonder dwelleth a hoggeshe and choyrlyshe man it weare very well
donne to robbe him._

_Roge._ Nowe, bynge we a waste to the hygh pad, the ruff-manes is by.

_Naye, let vs go hence to the hygh waye, the wodes is at hande._

_Man._ So may we happen on the harmanes and cly the jarke, or to the
quyer ken and skower quyaer cramprings and so to tryning on the
chates.

_So we maye chaunce to set in the stockes, eyther be whypped,
eyther had to prison-house, and there be shackeled with bolttes and
fetters, and then to hange on the gallowes._

[_Rogue._] Gerry gan the ruffian clye thee.

_A corde in thy mouth, the deuyll take thee._

_Man._ What! stowe you bene cofe and cut benar whydds; and byng we to some
vyle to nyp a bong, so shall we haue lowre for the bousing ken and
when we byng back to the deuseauye, we wyll fylche some duddes of
the ruffemans, or myll the ken for a lagge of dudes.

_What! holde your peace, good fellowe, and speake better wordes;
and go we to London to cut a purse, then shal we haue money for the
ale-house, and when we come backe agayne into the countrey, we wyll
steale some lynnen clothes of one hedges, or robbe some house for a
bucke of clothes._"

I have been induced, from the curiosity and rarity of this tract, to extend my account of it farther, perhaps, than many of my readers may think reasonable, and shall, therefore, only add a specimen of Harman's poetry, with which the original terminates.

"--> Thus J conclude my bolde beggar's booke,
That all estates most playnely maye see;
As in a glasse well pollyshed to looke,
Their double demeaner in eche degree;
Their lyues, their language, their names as they be;
That with this warning their myndes may be warmed
To amende their mysdeedes, and so lyue vnharmed."

Another tract of the same description is noticed in Herbert's Ames (p. 885.) as printed so early as in 1565. A copy of the second edition in the Bodleian Library, possesses the following title:--"_The Fraternitye of Uacabondes. As wel of ruflyng Vacabondes, as of beggerly, of women as of men, of gyrles as of boyes, with their proper names and qualities. With a description of the crafty company of Cousoners and Shifters. Whereunto also is adioyned the xxv orders of Knaues, otherwyse called a Quartern of Knaues. Confirmed for euer by Cocke Lorell[CM], &c. Imprinted at London by Iohn Awdeley, dwellyng in little Britayne streete without Aldersgate. 1575._" This, although much shorter than Harman's, contains nearly the same characters, and is therefore thus briefly dismissed. An account of it, drawn up by the editor of the present volume, may be found in Brydges' _British Bibliographer_, vol. ii. p. 12.

It may not be amiss to notice in this place, that a considerable part of _The Belman of London, bringing to light the most notorious villanies that are now practised in the kingdom, &c._ 4to. 1608, is derived from Harman's _Caveat_. Among the books bequeathed to the Bodleian, by Burton, (4to. G.8. Art. BS.) is a copy of the _Belman_, with the several passages so borrowed, marked in the hand-writing of the author of the _Anatomy of Melancholy_, who has also copied the _canting dialogue_ just given, and added several notes of his own on the margin.

FOOTNOTES:

[BV] In the epistle to the reader, the author terms it "this _second_ impression."

[BW] A _ruffler_ seems to have been a bully as well as a beggar, he is thus described in the _Fraternitye of Vacabondes_; (see p. 228.) "A ruffeler goeth wyth a weapon to seeke seruice, saying he hath bene a seruitor in the wars, and beggeth for his reliefe. But his chiefest trade is to robbe poore way-faring men and market-women." In _New Custome_ a morality, 1573, Creweltie, one of the characters, is termed a _ruffler_. See also Decker's _Belman of London_. Sign. C. iv.

[BX] "An _upright man_ is one that goeth wyth the trunchion of a staffe, which staffe they cal a Flitchm[=a]. This man is of so much authority, that meeting with any of his profession, he may cal them to accompt, and comaund a share or snap vnto himselfe of al that they have gained by their trade in one moneth." _Fraternitye of Vacabondes._

[BY] This worthy character approaches somewhat near to a shop-lifter. Decker tells us that "their apparele in which they walke is commonly freize jerkins and gallye slops." _Belman._ Sign. C. iv.

[BZ] A rogue, says Burton, in his MS. notes to Decker's _Belman of London_, "is not so stoute and [hardy] as the vpright man."

[CA] A person whose parents were rogues.

[CB] "These be called also _clapperdogens_" and "go with patched clokes." Sign. C. iv.

[CC] A _Frater_ and a _Whipiacke_, are persons who travel with a counterfeite license, the latter in the dress of a sailor. See _Fraternitye, Belman_, &c.

[CD] "An _Abraham-man_ is he that walketh bare-armed, and bare-legged, and fayneth hymselfe mad, and caryeth a packe of wool, or a stycke with baken on it, or such lyke toy, and nameth himselfe Poore Tom." _Fraternitye of Vacabondes._

[CE] A person who asks charity, and feigns sickness and disease.

[CF] One who pretends to be dumb. In Harman's time they were chiefly Welsh-men.

[CG] An artificer who mends one hole, and makes twenty.

[CH] A _jarke man_ can read and write, and sometimes understands a little Latin. A _patrico_ solemnizes their marriages.

[CI] These are commonly women who ask assistance, feigning that they have lost their property by fire.

[CJ] A woman who cohabits with an _upright man_, and professes to sell thread, &c.

[CK] "These _antem mortes_ be maried wemen, as there be but a fewe: for _antem_, in their language is a churche--" &c. _Harman_. Sign. E. iv. A _walking morte_ is one unmarried: a _doxe_, a _dell_, and a _kynchin morte_, are all females; and a _kynchen co_ is a young boy not thoroughly instructed in the art of _canting_ and _prigging_.

[CL] In Florio's _Italian Dictionary_, the word _dinascoso_ is explained "secretly, hiddenly, in _hugger-mugger_." See also Reed's _Shakspeare_, xviii. 284. _Old Plays_, 1780. viii. 48.