UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 AT LOS ANGELES
 
 SELECT WORKS, 
 
 I N 
 
 VERSE AND PROSE, 
 
 OF 
 
 MR. A, C O W L E Y. 
 
 VOL. L
 
 SELECT WORKS 
 OF MR. A. CO WL EY ; 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES: 
 
 With a PREFACE and NOTES by the Editor. 
 VOLUME THE FIRST. 
 
 THE THIRD EDITION. 
 
 ' ( Forgot his Epic, nay Pindaric art ; 
 
 " But ftill we love the language of his heart." POPE* 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 Printed for T. C A D E L L, I N THE STRAND. 
 MDCCLXXVII. 
 
 L03848
 
 
 v'. ; 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 IT would be ufmg mofl writers of 
 name very ill, to treat them with 
 that freedom, which I have pre- 
 fumed to take with Mr. Cowley. 
 But every thing he wrote, is ei- 
 ther fo good or fo bad, that, in all 
 reafon, a reparation mould be made; 
 left the latter, which unhappiry, is 
 the greater part, mould, in the end, 
 flifle and overlay the former. 
 
 THE reafon of this finking dif- 
 ference in the compofitions of the 
 fame man, whofe genius and learn- 
 a 3 ing
 
 vi P Rf>. F A C E. 
 
 ing are unqueftionable, is, That he 
 generally followed the tafte of his 
 time, which was the worft ima- 
 ginable j and rarely his own, which 
 was naturally excellent; as may be 
 feen in the few pieces of his poetry, 
 here felecled from the reft j and, 
 efpecially, in his profe-works, which 
 (except the notes on his Pindaric 
 Odes, and Davideis] are given entire, 
 and have no common merit. 
 
 BUT the talents, by which he is 
 diftinguimed, as a polite writer, 
 are the leaft of his praife. There 
 is fomething in him, which pleafes 
 above his wit, and in fpite of it. 
 It is that moral air, and tender fen- 
 fibility of mind, which every one 
 perceives and loves in reading Mr. 
 
 Covvley.
 
 7 R E F A C E. V 
 
 Cowley. And this character of his 
 genius, though it be exprefled, in- 
 deed, in his other writings, comes 
 out efpecially, and takes our attention 
 moft, in fome of hisfma//er poems and 
 effays -, which, therefore, it feemed to 
 be for the author's credit, and the 
 convenience of his readers, to draw 
 near to each other, and place, toge- 
 ther, in one view. I have faid -for 
 the convenience of bis readers: for, 
 though all are capable of being enter- 
 tained, perhaps inftructed, by the 
 image of a good mind, when fet be- 
 fore them, yet few will be at the pains 
 to feek that inftruction or entertain- 
 ment for themfelves, through the 
 fcattered works of fo unequal and vo- 
 luminous a writer. 
 
 a 4 To
 
 1^ P H E F A C Ei 
 
 To do juftice to the memory of 
 Mr. Cowley, in thefe two refpedts, I 
 mean, in his capacity both of a polite 
 and moral writer, is the fole end of 
 this publication. Every man of tafte 
 and virtue will read it with pleafure. 
 There are, indeed, many lines dif- 
 perfed through his other poems, 
 which deferve praife. But, on the 
 whole, it is enough if this fmall 
 collection go down to pofterity : In 
 that cafe, neither they, nor the au- 
 thor, will have any great lofs, though 
 the reft be forgotten. 
 
 Lincoln's-Inn, 
 April 21, 1772* 
 
 K. KURD. 
 
 CON-
 
 C 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 O F 
 VOLUME THE FIRST. 
 
 THE EDITOR'S Preface. Page v. 
 
 Dr. SPRAT'S Life of Mr. Cowley. 
 
 157 
 
 ELEGIA DEDICATORIA. 59 62 
 
 The AUTHOR'S Preface. 63 90 
 
 The AUTHOR'S Preface to Cutter ofColeman- 
 
 Jireef. 91 105 
 
 P E M Si 
 
 I. The Motto. 107 
 
 II. Ode on Wit. 109 
 
 III. On the Death of Mr. Jordan. 113 
 
 IV. On the Death of Mr. W. Hervey. 
 
 114 
 
 V. To the Lord Falkland. 123 
 
 b VI. On
 
 * CONTENTS. 
 
 VL On the Death of Sir. A. Vandyke; 
 
 126 
 
 VII. To Sir W. Davenant. 129 
 
 VIII. On the deatfvof Mr. Crafhaw. 1 3 1 
 
 IX. Imitation of Martial, lib. V. ep, xxi. 
 
 135 
 
 X, Anacreontics, i. Love. 138 
 
 ii. Drinking. 139 
 
 iii. Beauty. 140 
 
 iv. The Duel. 141 
 
 v. Age. 142 
 
 vi. The Account. 143 
 
 vii. Gold. 145 
 
 viii. The Epicure. 146 
 
 ix. Another. ibid. 
 
 x. The Grafhopper.i48 
 
 xi. The Swallow. 149 
 
 xii. Elegy upon Ana- 
 
 creon. 150 
 
 XI. The Chronicle. . A Ballad. 156 
 XII. Acme and Septimius. 161 
 
 XIII. The Praife of Pindar. An Ode. 
 
 164 
 XIV. Brutus.
 
 CONTENTS. M 
 
 XIV. Brutus. An Ode. 167 
 
 XV. To Mr. Hobbes. 173 
 
 XVI. Life and Fame. 181 
 
 XVII. On the death of Mrs. C. Philips. 
 
 iS6 
 
 XVIII. Hymn to Light. 192 
 
 XIX. To the Royal Society. 200 
 
 XX. The Complaint. 210 
 
 ^""^ 
 
 PROPOSITION for the Advancement 
 of EXPERIMENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 2I9 _ 244
 
 AN ACCOUNT 
 
 O F 
 
 The LIFE and WRITINGS 
 Of Mr. ABRAHAM COWLEY. 
 
 Written to Mr. CLIFFORD: 
 Prefixed to the Folio Edition of 1668. 
 
 S I R, 
 
 MR. COWLEY in his will recommend- 
 ed to my care the revifing of all 
 his works that were formerly printed, and 
 the collecting of thofe papers which he had 
 defigned for the prefs. And he did it 
 with this particular obligation, That I 
 Jhould be fure to let nothing pafs, that 
 might feem the leaft offence to religion or 
 VOL. I. B good
 
 * THELIFEOF 
 
 good manners. A caution, which you will 
 judge to have been altogether needlefs. 
 For certainly, in all ancient or modern 
 times, there can fcarce any author be 
 found, that has handled fo many different 
 matters in fuch various forts of ftyle, who 
 lels wants the correction of his friends, or 
 has lefs reafon to fear the feverity of 
 ftrangers. 
 
 ACCORDING to his defire and his own in- 
 tention, I have now fet forth his Latin and 
 Englifti writings, each in a volume apart -, 
 and to that which was before extant in both 
 languages, I have added all that I could 
 find in his clofet, which he had brought 
 to any manner of perfection. I have thus, 
 Sir, performed the will of the dead. But 
 I doubt I mall not fatisfy the expectation 
 of the living, unlefs fome account be here 
 premifed concerning this excellent man. 
 I know very well, that he has given the 
 world the beft image of his own mind in 
 thefe immortal monuments of his Wit. 
 
 Yet
 
 to it. A. COWLEY. 5 
 
 Yet there is dill room enough left, for one 
 of his familiar acquaintance to fay many 
 things of his poems, and chiefly of his 
 life, that may ferve for the information of 
 his readers, if not for the increafe of his 
 name ; which, without any fuch helps, is 
 already fufficiently etlablifhed. 
 
 THIS, Sir, were an argument moft pro- 
 per for you to manage, in refpedt of your 
 great abilities, and the long friendmip you 
 maintained with him. But you have an 
 obftinate averfion from publifning any of 
 your Writings. I guefs what pretence you 
 have for it, and that you are confirmed in 
 this refolution by the prodigious multitude 
 and imperfections of us writers of this age. 
 I will not now difpute, whether you are in 
 the right ; though I am confident you 
 would contribute more to our reformation 
 by your example, than reproofs. But how- 
 ever, feeing you perfift in your purpofe, 
 and have refufed to adorn even this very 
 lu eject, which you love ib well j I beg your 
 B 2 affiltance
 
 4 THELIFEOP 
 
 afTUlance while I myfelf undertake it. This 
 I do with the greater willingnefs, becaufe 
 I believe there is no man, who fpeaks of 
 Mr. COWLEY, that can want either matter 
 or words. I only therefore intreat you to 
 give me leave to make you a party in this 
 relation, by ufmg your name and your 
 teftimony. For by this means, though the 
 memory of our friend mail not be deliver- 
 ed to pofterity with the advantage of your 
 wit, which were mod to be defired ; yet 
 his praife will be flrengthened by the con- 
 fent of your judgement, and the authority 
 of your approbation. 
 
 MR. A. COWLEY was born in the city of 
 London, in the year one thoufand fix hun- 
 dred and eighteen. His parents were citi- 
 zens of a virtuous life and fufficient eftate ; 
 and fo the condition of his fortune was 
 equal to the temper of his mind, which 
 was always content with moderate things. 
 The firft years of his youth were fpent in 
 Weftminfter-fchool, where he foon obtain- 
 ed
 
 MR. A. COWLEY. 5 
 
 ed and increafed the noble genius peculiar 
 to that place. The occafion of his firft 
 inclination to poetry, was his cafual light- 
 ing on SPENSER'S Fairy >ueen, when he 
 was but juft able to read. That indeed is 
 a poem fitter for the examination of men, 
 than the confideration of a child. But in 
 him it met with a fancy, whofe flrength 
 was not to be judged by the number of 
 his years. 
 
 IN the thirteenth year of his age there 
 came forth a little book under his name, 
 in which there were many things that 
 might well become the vigour and force of 
 a manly wit. The firft beginning of his 
 iludies, was a familiarity with the moft fo- 
 lid and unaffected authors of antiquity, 
 which he fully digefted, not only in his 
 memory, but his judgement. By this ad- 
 vantage he learnt nothing while a boy, that 
 he needed to forget or forfake when he 
 came to be a man. His mind was rightly 
 feafoned at firft ; and he had nothing to do, 
 B 3 but
 
 6 THE LIFE OF 
 
 but ftill to proceed on the fame foundation 
 on which he began. 
 
 HE was wont to relate 1 , that he had this 
 defect in his memory at that time, that his 
 teachers could never bring it to retain the 
 ordinary rules of grammar. However, he 
 fupplied that want, by converfing with the 
 books themfelves, from whence thofc rules 
 had been drawn. That, no doubt, was a 
 better way, though much more difficult ; 
 and he afterwards found this benefit by it, 
 that, having got the Greek and Roman 
 languages, as he had done his own., not by 
 precept but ufe, he pracliied them, not as 
 a fcholar but a native, 
 
 WITH thefe extraordinary hopes he was 
 removed to Trinity College in Cambridge ; 
 where, by the progrefs and continuance of 
 his. wit, it appeared that two things were 
 joined in it, which feldom meet together, 
 that it was both early ripe and lafting. 
 This brought him into the love and efteerr\ 
 
 of
 
 MR. A. COWLEY. 7 
 
 of the moft eminent members of that fa- 
 mous ibciety j and principally of your uncle 
 Mr. FOTHERBY, whofe favours he fince 
 abundantly acknowledged, when his bene- 
 factor had quite forgot the obligation. His 
 exercifes of all kinds are ftill remembered 
 in that univerfity with great applaufe ; and 
 with this particular praife, that they were 
 not only fit for the obicurity of an acade- 
 mical life, but to have been fhown on the 
 true theatre of the world. There it was 
 that, before the twentieth year of his age, 
 he laid the defign of divers of his moft 
 maiculine works, that he finifhed long after: 
 in which I know not whether I mould moft 
 commend, that a mind fo young mould con- 
 ceive fuch great things, or that it mould 
 be able to perfect them with fuch felicity. 
 
 THE firft occafion of his entering into 
 bufincfs, was the elegy that he writ on Mr. 
 HERVEY'S death : wherein he defcribed 
 the hig!-,eft characters of religion, know- 
 ledge, and frjendfhip, in an age when moft 
 B 4 other
 
 THE LIFE OF 
 
 other men fcarce begin to learn them 
 This brought him into the acquaintance 
 of Mr. JOHN HERVEY, the brother of his 
 deceafed friend ; from whom he received 
 many offices of kindnefs through the whole 
 courfe of his life, and principally this, that 
 by his means he came into the fervice of 
 my lord ST. ALBANS. 
 
 WHEN the civil war broke out, his af- 
 fection to the King's caufe drew him to 
 Oxford, as foon as it began to be the chief 
 feat of the Royal party. In that univerfity 
 he profecuted the fame ftudies with a like 
 fuccefs. f . Nor in the mean time was he 
 wanting to his duty in the war itfelf, for 
 he was prefent and in fervice in feveral of 
 the King's journies and expeditions. By 
 thefe occafions and the report of his high 
 deferts, he fpeedily grew familiar to the 
 chief men of the court and the gown, 
 whom the fortune of the war had drawn 
 together. And particularly, though he was 
 then very young, he had the entire ffiend- 
 
 ihip
 
 MR. A. COWL EY. 
 
 {hip of my Lord FALKLAND, one of the 
 principal fecretaries of ftate. That af- 
 fection was contracted by the agreement 
 of their learning and manners. For you 
 may remember, Sir, we have often heard 
 Mr.CowLEY admire him, not only for the 
 profoundnefs of his knowledge, which was 
 applauded by all the world, but more 
 efpecially for thofe qualities which he him- 
 felf more regarded, for his generofity of 
 mind, and his neglect of the vain pomp 
 of human greatnefs. 
 
 DURING the heat of the civil war, he 
 was fettled in my Lord ST. ALBANS* fa- 
 mily, and attended her Majefty the Queen- 
 mother, when, by the unjuftperfecutionof 
 her fubjects, (he was forced to retire into 
 France. Upon this wandering condition 
 of the moft vigorous part of his life, he 
 was wont to reflect, as the caufe of the long 
 interruption of his ftudies. Yet we have 
 no reafon to think that he loft fo great a 
 fpace of time, if we confider in what bufi- 
 
 nefs
 
 r THELIFEOF 
 
 nefshe employed his banifliment. He was 
 abfent from his native country above 
 twelve years j which were wholly Ipent, ei- 
 ther in bearing a fhare in the diftrefies of 
 the royal family, or in labouring in their 
 affairs. To this purpofe, he performed le- 
 veral dangerous journies, into Jerfey, Scot- 
 land, Flanders, Holland, or wherever elic 
 theKing's troubles required his attendance. 
 But the chief teftimony of his fidelity was, 
 the laborious fervicehe underwent, in main- 
 taining the conftant correfpondence be- 
 tween the late King and the Queen his wife-. 
 In that weighty truft he behaved himfelf 
 \rithindefatigableintegrity and unfufpecled 
 fecrecy. For he cyphered and decyphered, 
 with his own hand, the greateft part of all 
 the letters that pafTed between their Ma- 
 jefties, and managed a vaft intelligence in 
 many other parts : which for ibme years 
 together took up all his days, and two or 
 three nights every week. 
 
 AT length, upon his prefent Majefty's 
 removal out of France, and the Queen - 
 
 mother's
 
 MR. A. COWLEY. n 
 
 mother's ftaying behind, the bufincfs of 
 that nature pafied of courfe into other 
 hands. Then it was thought fit, by thofe 
 on whom hedepended, that he (hould come 
 over into England, and, under pretence of 
 privacy and retirement, mould take occa- 
 lion of giving notice of the pofture of 
 things in this nation. Upon his return, 
 he found his country groaning under the 
 oppreflion of an unjuft ufurpation. And 
 he foon felt the effedts of it. For, while 
 he lay hid in London, he was feized on by 
 a miftake,the fearch having been intended 
 after another gentleman, of confiderable 
 note in the King's party. Being made a 
 prifoner, he was often examined before the 
 Ufurpers, who tried all imaginable ways to 
 make him Serviceable to their ends. That 
 courfe not prevailing, he was committed 
 to a fevere reftraint ; and fcarce at laft ob- 
 tained his liberty upon the hard terms of 
 a thoufand pound bail, which burden Dr. 
 SCARBOROUGH very honourably took upon 
 himfelf. Under thefe bonds he continued 
 
 till
 
 iz THE LIFE OF 
 
 till the general redemption. Yet, taking 
 the opportunity of the confufions that 
 followed upon CROMWELL'S death, he ven- 
 tured back into France j and there re^ 
 mained in the fame flation as before, till 
 near the time of the King's return. 
 
 THIS certainly, Sir, is abundantly fuf- 
 ficient to jullify his loyalty to all the world; 
 though fome have endeavoured to bring 
 it in qucftion, upon occafion of a few lines 
 in the Preface to one of his books. The 
 objection I muft not pafs by in filence, 
 becaufe it was the only part of his life that 
 was liable to mifmterpretation, even by 
 the ccnfefTion of thofe that envied his 
 fame. In this cafe perhaps it were enough, 
 to alledge for him to men of moderate 
 minds, that what he there faid was publiih- 
 ed before a book of poetry, and fo ought 
 rather to be efteemed as a problem of 
 his fancy and invention, than as the real 
 image of his judgement. But his de- 
 fence in this matter may be laid on a 
 
 furer
 
 MR. A. COWL EY. 13 
 
 furer foundation. This is the true rea- 
 fon that is to be given of his delivering 
 that opinion. Upon his coming over, he 
 found the ftate of the Royal party very 
 defperate. He perceived the ftrength of 
 their enemies fo united, that, till it Ihould 
 begin to break within itfelf, all endeavours 
 againft it were like to prove unfuccefsful. 
 On the other fide, he beheld their zeal for 
 his Majefty's caufe to be {till fo aftive, 
 that it often hurried them into inevitable 
 ruin. He faw this with much grief. And 
 though he approved their conilancy as 
 much as any man living, yet he found their 
 unfeafonable fhewing it, did only difable 
 themfelves, and give their adverfaries great 
 advantages of riches and ftrength by their 
 defeats. He therefore believed that it 
 would be a meritorious fervice to the King, 
 if any man, who was known to have fol- 
 lowed his intereft, could infinuate into the 
 Ufurpers' minds, that men of his principles 
 were now willing to be quiet, and could 
 perfuade the poor opprefled Royalifts to 
 
 conceal
 
 H THE LIFE OF 
 
 conceal their affections, for better occafions. 
 And as for his own particular, he was A 
 clofe prifoner when he writ that againtl 
 which the exception is made , fo that he 
 faw it was impoffible for him to purfue the 
 ends for which he came hither, if he did 
 not make fome kind of declaration of his 
 peaceable intentions. This was then his 
 opinion. And the fuccefs of things feems 
 to prove, that it was not very ill ground- 
 ed. For certainly it was one of the great- 
 eft helps to the King's affairs, about the 
 latter end of that tyranny, that many of 
 his beft friends diflembled their counfels, 
 and acted the fame defigns, under the dif- 
 guifes and names of other parties. 
 
 THIS, Sir, you can teftify to have been 
 the innocent occafion of thefe words, on 
 which fo much clamour was raifed. Yet 
 feeing his good intentions were fo ill inter- 
 preted, he told me, the laft time that ever 
 I faw him, that he would have them omit- 
 ted in the next impreflion : of which his 
 
 friend
 
 MR. A. COWL EV. 15 
 
 friend Mr. COOK, is a witnefs. However, 
 if we fhould take them in the worft fenfe 
 of which they are capable : yet, methinks, 
 for his maintaining one falfe tenet in the 
 political philofophy, he made a fufficient 
 atonement, by a continual iervice of twenty 
 years, by the perpetual loyalty of his dif- 
 courfe, and by many of his other writings, 
 wherein he has largely defended and adorn- 
 ed the Royal caule. And to fpeak of him, 
 not as our friend, but according to the 
 common laws of humanity; certainly, that 
 life muft needs be very unblameable, which 
 had been tried in bufmefs of the higheft 
 confequence, and pra&ifed in the hazard- 
 ous fecrets of courts and cabinets ; and 
 yet there can nothing disgraceful be pro- 
 duced againft it, but only the error of one 
 paragraph, and a fmgle metaphor. 
 
 BUT to return to my narration, which 
 this digrefllon has interrupted: Upon the 
 King's happy reftoration, Mr. COWLEY 
 was pall the fortieth year of his age ; of 
 
 which
 
 i6 THELIFEOF 
 
 which the greatefl part had been fpent in 
 a various and tempeftuous condition. He 
 now thought he had facrificed enough of 
 his life to his curiofity and experience. He 
 had enjoyed many excellent occafions of 
 obfervation. He had been prefent in many 
 great revolutions, which in that tumultu- 
 ous time difturbed the peace of all our 
 neighbour-flates, as well as our own. He 
 had nearly beheld all the fpleridour of the 
 higheft part of mankind. He had lived 
 in the prefcnce of princes, and familiarly 
 converfed with greatnefs in all its degrees, 
 which was neceffary for one that would 
 contemn it aright: for to fcorn the pomp 
 of the world before a man knows it, does 
 commonly proceed rather from ill-man- 
 ners than a true magnanimity. 
 
 HE was now weary of the vexations and 
 
 formalities of an active condition. He had 
 
 been perplexed with a long compliance to 
 
 foreign manners. He was fatiated with 
 
 the arts of court : which fort of life, 
 
 though
 
 MR. A. GOWLEY. 17 
 
 though his virtue had made innocent to 
 him, yet nothing could make it quiet. 
 Thefe were the reafons that moved him to 
 forego all public employments, and to 
 follow the violent inclination of his own 
 mind, which, in the greateft throng of his 
 former bufmefs, had ftill called upon him, 
 and reprefentcd to him the true delights 
 of folitary ftudies, of temperate pleafures, 
 and of a moderate revenue, below the ma- 
 lice and flatteries of fortune. 
 
 AT firft he was but flenderly provided 
 for fuch a retirement, by reafon of his 
 travels, and the afflictions of the party to 
 which he adhered, which had put him 
 quite out of all the roads of gain. Yet, 
 notwithftanding the narrownefs of his in- 
 come, he remained fixed to his refolution, 
 upon his confidence in the temper of his 
 own mind, which he knew had contracted 
 its defires into fo fmall a compafs, that a 
 very few things would fupply them all. 
 But upon the fettlement of the peace of 
 
 VOL. I. C our
 
 i8 THE LIFE OF 
 
 our nation, this hinderance of his defign 
 was foon removed ; for he then obtained 
 a plentiful eftate, by the favour of my Lord 
 ST. ALBANS, and the bounty of my Lord 
 Duke of BUCKINGHAM ; to whom he was 
 always moft dear, and whom he ever re- 
 fpecl^d, as his principal patrons. The laft 
 of which greaj: men, you know, Sir, it is 
 my duty to mention, not only for Mr. 
 COWLEY'S fake", but my own : though I 
 cannot do it, without being amamed, that, 
 having the fame encourager of my ftudies, 
 I mould deferve his patronage fo much 
 lefs. 
 
 THUS he was fufHciently furnimed for 
 his retreat. And immediately he gave 
 over all purfuit of honour and riches, in a 
 time, when, if any ambitious or covetous 
 thoughts had remained in his mind, he 
 might juftly have expected to have them 
 readily fatisfied. In his laft fevenor eight 
 years, he was concealed in his beloved 
 obfcurity, and poflefiedthat folitude, which 
 
 from
 
 MR. A. COWL EY. 19 
 
 from his very childhood he had always moft 
 paflionately defired. Though he had fre- 
 quent invitations to return into bufinefs, 
 yet he never gave ear to any perfuafions 
 of profit or preferment, His vifits to the 
 city and court were very few : his flays in 
 town were only as a paflenger, not an in- 
 habitant. The places that he chofe for the 
 feats of his declining life, were two or three 
 villages on the bank of the Thames. Dur- 
 ing this recefs, his mind was rather exer- 
 cifed on what was to come, than what was 
 paffed j he fuffered no more bufinefs nor 
 cares of life to come near him, than what 
 were enough to keep his foul awake, but 
 not to difturb it. Some few friends and 
 books, a chearful heart, and innocent con- 
 fcience, were his conftant companions. 
 His poetry indeed he took with him, but 
 he made that an anchorite as well as him- 
 felf : he only dedicated it to the fervice of 
 his Maker, to defcribe the great images 
 of religion and virtue wherewith his mind 
 abounded. And he employed his mafic 
 C 2 to
 
 ,zo T H E L I F E O F' 
 
 to no other ufe, than as his own DAVID did 
 towards SAUL, by finging the praifes of 
 GOD and of Nature, to drive the evil fpirit 
 out of men's minds. 
 
 OF his works [a] that are publifhed, it is 
 hard to give one general chara&er, becaufe 
 of the difference of their fubjects, and the 
 various forms and diftant times of their 
 writing. Yet this is true of them all, that 
 in all the feveral fhapes of his ftyle, there 
 is {till very much of the likenefs and im- 
 preffion of the fame mind ; the fame un- 
 affected modefty, and natural freedom, and 
 eafy vigour, and chearful pafiions, and in- 
 nocent mirth, which appeared in all his 
 manners. We have many things that he 
 writ in two very unlike conditions, in the 
 univerfity and the court. But in his poe- 
 
 [a] Of his works] The ill faith of a friend, in 
 commending every thing alike, and without referve, 
 would be very confpicuous in all that follows to p. 41, 
 if we did not reflect, that, what fuch a poet, as Mr. 
 Cowley, was capable of writing, fuch a critic, as Dr. 
 . Sprat, may be fuppofed very honeftly to approve. 
 
 try,
 
 MR. A. COWL EV. 51 
 
 try, as well as his life, he mingled with ex- 
 cellent (kill what was good in both ftates. 
 In his life, he joined the innocence and 
 fincerity of the fcholar with the humanity 
 and good behaviour of the courtier. In 
 his poems, he united the folidity and art 
 of the one with the gentility and grace- 
 fulnefs of the other. 
 
 IF any fhall think that he was not won- 
 derfully curious in the choice and ele- 
 gance of all his words : I will affirm with 
 more truth on the other fide, that he had 
 no manner of affectation in them; he took 
 them as he found them made to his hands ; 
 he neither went before, nor came after, the 
 ufe of the age. He forfook the converfa- 
 tion, but never the language, of the city 
 and court. ' He underftood exceeding well 
 all the variety and power of poetical num- 
 bers; and praftifed all forts with great 
 happinefs. If his verfes in fome places 
 feem not as foft and flowing as fome would 
 have them, it was his choice, not his fault. 
 C 3 He
 
 *2 THE LIFE OF 
 
 He knew that, in diverting men's minds, 
 there mould be the fame variety obferved 
 as in the profpects of their eyes : xvhere a 
 rock, a precipice, or a riling wave, is of- 
 ten more delightful, than a fmooth even 
 ground, or a calm fea. Where the mat- 
 ter required it, he was as gentle as any man. 
 But where higher virtues were chiefly to be 
 regarded, an exacl numerofity was not then 
 his main care. This may ferve to anfwer 
 thofe who upbraid fome of his pieces with 
 roughnefs, and with more contractions than 
 they are willing to allow. But thefe ad- 
 mirers of gentlenels without finews, mould 
 know that different arguments muft have 
 different colours of fpeech : that there is a 
 kind of variety of fexes in poetry, as well 
 as in mankind : that, as the peculiar ex- 
 cellence of the feminine kind is fmooth- 
 nefs and beauty ;, fo ftrength is the chief 
 praife of the rnafculine. 
 
 HE had a perfect maftery in both the 
 languages in which he writ : but each of 
 
 them
 
 MR. A. COWL EY. 35 
 
 them kept a juftdiftance from the other ; 
 neither did his Latin make his Englilh too 
 old, nor his Englifh make his Latin too 
 modern. He excelled both in profe and 
 verfe ; and both together have that per- 
 fection, which is commended by fome of 
 the ancients above all others, that they are 
 very obvious to the conception, but moft 
 difficult in the imitation. 
 
 His fancy flowed with great fpeed; and 
 therefore it was very fortunate to him, 
 that his judgement was equal to manage it. 
 He never runs his reader nor his argu- 
 ment out of breath. He perfectly praftifes 
 the hardeft fecret of good writing, to know 
 when he has done enough. He always 
 leaves off in fuch a manner, that it appears 
 it was in his power to have faid much 
 more. In the particular exprefiions there 
 is ftill much to be applauded, but more in 
 the difpofition and order of the whole. 
 From thence there fprings a new comeli- 
 nefs, befides the feature of each part. His 
 C 4 invention
 
 *4 THELIFEOF 
 
 invention is powerful, and large as cati 
 be defired. But it feems all to arife out 
 of the nature of the fubjeft, and to be 
 juft fitted for the thing of which he fpeaks. 
 If ever he goes far for it, he diffembles his 
 pains admirably well. 
 
 THE variety of arguments that he has 
 managed is fo large, that there is fcarce 
 any particular of all the paffions of men, 
 or works of Nature and Providence, which 
 he has pafied by undefcribed. Yet he 
 Hill obferves the rules of decency with fo 
 much care, that whether he inflames his 
 reader with the fofter affections, or delights 
 him with inoffenfive raillery, or teaches 
 the familiar manners of life, or adorns the 
 difcoveries of philofophy, or infpires him 
 with the heroic characters of charity and 
 religion ; to all thefe matters, that are fo 
 wide afunder, he flill proportions a due 
 figure of fpeech, and a proper meafure of 
 wit, This indeed is moft remarkable, that 
 a man who was fo conflant and fixed in 
 
 the
 
 MR. A. COW LEY. S$ 
 
 the moral ideas of his mind, fhould yet be 
 fo changeable in his intellectual, and in 
 both to the higheft degree of excellence. 
 
 IF there needed any excufe to be made, 
 that his love-verfes fhould take up fo great 
 a lhare in his works j it may be alledged, 
 that they were compofed when he was very 
 young. But it is a vain thing to make 
 any kind of apology for that fort of writ- 
 ings. If devout or virtuous men will fu- 
 percilioufly forbid the minds of the young, 
 to adorn thofe fubjects about which they 
 are moft converfant, they would put 
 them out of all capacity of performing 
 graver matters, when they come to them. 
 For the exercifes of all mens wits muft be 
 always proper for their age, and never too 
 much above it : and by practice and ufe 
 in lighter arguments, they grow up at lafl 
 to excel in the moft weighty. I am not 
 therefore afhamed to commend Mr. COW- 
 LEY'S Miftrefs. I only except one or two 
 exprefiions, which I wiih I could have pre- 
 2 vailed
 
 $6 THELIFEOF 
 
 vailed with thofe that had the right of the 
 other edition, to have .left out. But of 
 all the reft I dare boldly pronounce, that 
 never yet fo much was written on a fubject 
 ib delicate, that can lefs offend the fevereft 
 rules of morality. The whole pafiion of 
 love is inimitably defcribed, with all its 
 mighty train of hopes, and joys, and dif- 
 quiets. Befides this amorous tendernefs, 
 I know not how, in every copy, there is 
 fomething of more ufeful knowledge very 
 naturally and gracefully infinuated , and 
 every where there may be fomething found, 
 to inform the minds of wife men as well 
 as to move the hearts of young men or 
 women, 
 
 THE occafion of his falling on the Pin- 
 daric way of writing, was his accidental 
 meeting with PINDAR'S works, in a place 
 where he had no other books to direct 
 Ju'm []. Having then conftdered at leifure 
 
 [6] direft him] So it Hands in all the editions 
 I have feen. But the proper word fcems to be 
 divert. 
 
 the
 
 MR. A. COWLEY a 7 
 
 the height of his invention, and the majefty 
 of his ftyle, he tried immediately to imi- 
 tate it in Englilh. And he performed it 
 without the danger that HORACE prefaged 
 to man who fhould dare to attempt it. 
 
 IF any are difpleafed at the boldnefs of 
 his metaphors, and length of his digref- 
 fion, they contend not againft Mr. Cow- 
 I,EY, but PINDAR himfelf ; who was fo 
 much reverenced by all antiquity, that the 
 place of his birth was preferved as facred, 
 when his native city was twice deftroyed 
 by the fury of two conquerors. If the ir* 
 regularity of the number difguft them, 
 (hey may obferve that this very thing 
 makes that kind of poefy fit for all man- 
 ner of fubjefts : for the pleafant, the grave, 
 the amorous, the heroic, the philofophical* 
 ;he moral, the divine. Befides this, they 
 will find, that the frequent alteration of 
 $he rhythm and feet affects the mind with 
 a more various delight, while it is foon 
 apt to be tired by the fettled pace of any 
 
 one
 
 S THE LIFE OP 
 
 one conftant meafure. But that for which 
 I think this inequality of number is chiefly 
 to be preferred, is its near affinity with 
 profe : from which all other kinds of Eng- 
 liih verfe are fo far diftant, that it is very 
 feldom found that the fame man excels in 
 both ways. But now this loofe and un- 
 confined meafure has all the grace and 
 harmony of the moft confined. And with- 
 al, it is fo large and free, that the practice 
 of it will only exalt, not corrupt, our profe: 
 | which is certainly the moft ufeful kind of 
 writing of all others : for it is the ftyle of 
 all bufinefs and converfation. 
 
 BESIDES this imitatingof PiNDAR,which 
 may perhaps be thought rather a new fort 
 of writing, than a reftoringof an ancient ; 
 he has alfo been wonderfully happy, in 
 trandating many difficult parts of the 
 noblefl poets of antiquity. To perform 
 this according to the dignity of the at- 
 tempt, he had, as it was neceflary he 
 (hould have, not only the elegance of both 
 
 the
 
 MR. A. COW LEY. 29 
 
 the languages, but the true fpirit of both 
 the poetries. This way of leaving verbal 
 translations, and chiefly regarding the fenfe 
 and genius of the author, was fcarce heard 
 of in England, before this prefent age, 
 I will not prefume to fay, that Mr. COW- 
 LEY was the abfolute inventor of it. Nay, 
 I know that others had the good luck to 
 recommend it firft in print. Yet I appeal 
 to you, Sir, whether he did not conceive 
 it, and difcourfe of it, and practife it, as 
 foon as any man. 
 
 His Davideis was wholly written in fo 
 young an age ; that, if we (hall reflect on 
 the vaftnefs of the argument, and his man- 
 ner of handling it, he may feem like one 
 of the miracles that he there adorns, like 
 a boy attempting Goliah. I have often 
 heard you declare, that he had finifhed the 
 greateft part of it, while hewas yet ayoung 
 ftudent at Cambridge. This perhaps may 
 be the reafon, thatinfome few places, there 
 is more youthfulnefs and redundance of 
 
 fancy
 
 $6 THE LIFE O? 
 
 fancy than his riper judgement would have 
 allowed. I know, Sir, you will give me 
 leave to ufe this liberty of cenfure; for I 
 do not here pretend to a profefled pane- 
 gyric, but rather to give ajuft opinion con- 
 cerning him. But for the main of it, I 
 will affirm, that it is a better inilance and 
 beginning of a divine poem, than I ever 
 yet faw in any language. The contrivance 
 is perfectly ancient, which is certainly the 
 true form of heroic poetry, and fuch as 
 was never yet outdone by any new devices 
 of modern wits. The fubject was truly 
 divine, even according to God's own heart. 
 The matter of his invention, all the trea- 
 fures of knowledge and hi (lories in the 
 Bible. The model of it comprehended 
 ail the learning of the Eaft. The cha- 
 racters, lofty and various : the numbers, 
 firm and powerful : the digrefilons, beauti- 
 ful and proportionable : the defign, to fub- 
 jjiit mortal wit to heavenly truths : in all 
 there is an admirable mixture of human 
 virtues and paffions, with religious rap- 
 -tures. THE
 
 MR. A. CQWLEY. $r 
 
 THE truth is, Sir, methinks, in other 
 matters, his wit excelled moft other mens : 
 but in his moral and divine works, it out- 
 did itfelf. And no doubt it proceeded 
 from this caufe^ that in other lighter kinds 
 of poetry, he chiefly reprefented the hu- 
 mours and affections of others; but in 
 thefe he fat to himfelf, and drew the figure 
 of his own mind. I know it has been 
 objected againft him, by fome morofe zea- 
 lots, that he has done an injury to the 
 Scripture, by fprinkling all his works 
 with many allufions and fimilitudes that 
 he took out of the Bible. But to thefe 
 men it were a fufficient reply, to com- 
 pare their own practice with his, in this 
 particular. They make ufe of Scripture 
 phrafes and quotations, in all their com- 
 mon difcourfe. They employ the words 
 of Holy Writ, to countenance the extra- 
 vagance of their own opinbns and af- 
 fections. And why then might not he 
 take the liberty to fetch from thence fome 
 
 ornament,
 
 32 THE LIFE OF 
 
 ornament, for the innocent paflions, and 
 natural truths, and moral virtues, which 
 hedefcribes ? 
 
 THIS is confutation enough to that fort 
 of men. As to the thing itfelf, it is fo far 
 from being a debafing of divinity, to make 
 fome parts of it the fubjects of our fancy, 
 that it is a fure way to eftablifh it familiarly 
 on the hearts of the people, and to give it 
 a durable impreflion on the minds of wife 
 men, Of this we have a powerful in- 
 ftance amongft the, ancients. For their 
 wit has lalled much longer than the prac- 
 tice of any of their religions. And the 
 very memory of moft of their divine wor- 
 fhip had perimed, if it had not been ex- 
 preiled and preferved by their poets. But 
 Mr. COWLEY himfelf did of all men liv- 
 ing abhor the abufe of Scripture by licen- 
 tious raillery -, which ought not only to 
 be efteemed the meaneft kind of wit, but 
 the woril fort of ill-manners. This per- 
 haps fome men would be loth to hear 
 
 proved,
 
 MR. A. CO WLE Y. 3) 
 
 proved, who practife it under the falfe 
 title of a genteel quality : but the truth of 
 it is unqueftionable. For the ordinary ill- 
 breeding is only an indecence and offence 
 againft fome particular cuitom, or gefture, 
 or behaviour in ufe. But this p bphane- 
 nefs is a violation of the very fupport of 
 human fociety, and a rudeneis againft the 
 beft manners that all mankind can prac- 
 tife, which is, a juft reverence of the Su- 
 preme Power of all the world. 
 
 IN his Latin poems, he has exprefied to 
 admiration, all the numbers of verfe, and 
 figures of poeiy, that are fcattered up and 
 down amongft the ancients. There is 
 hardly to be found in them all any good 
 fafhion of fpeech, or colour of meafure, 
 but he has comprehended it, and given 
 inftances of it, according as his feveral ar- 
 guments required either a majeltic fpirit, 
 or a paffionate, or a pleafant. This is the 
 more extraordinary, in that it was never 
 yet performed by any fingle poet of the 
 
 VOL. I. D ancient
 
 34 T H E L I F E O F 
 
 ancient Romans themfelves. They had the 
 language natural to them, and fo might 
 eafily have moulded it into what form or 
 humour they pleafed : yet it was their con- 
 ftaHt cuftom, to confine all their thoughts 
 and practice to one or two ways of writing, 
 as defpairing ever to compafs all together. 
 This is evident, in thofe that excelled in 
 odes and fongs, in the comical, tragical, 
 epical, elegiacal, or fatyrical way. And 
 this perhaps occafioned the firft diftinction 
 and number of the Mufes. For they 
 thought the tafk too hard for any one of 
 them, though they fancied them to be 
 goddefies. And therefore they divided it 
 among them all ; and only recommended 
 to each of them, the care of a diftincl: cha- 
 racter of poetry and mufic. 
 
 THE occafion of his chufmg the fub- 
 ject of his fix books of plants, was this : 
 when he returned into England, he was 
 advifed to difiemble the main intention of 
 his coming over, under the difguife of ap- 
 plying
 
 MR. A. COWLEY ft 
 
 flying himfelf to fome fettled profeffion. 
 And that of phyfic was thought mod pro- 
 per. To this purpofe, after many anato- 
 mical difiections, he proceeded to the con- 
 fideration of Simples ; and having furniQi- 
 cd himfelf with books of that nature, he 
 retired into a fruitful part of Kent, where 
 every field and wood might mew him the 
 real figures of thofe pluncs of which he 
 read. Thus he fpeedily maftered that pare 
 of the art of medicine. But then, as one 
 of the ancients did before him in theftudy of 
 the law, inftead of employing his II 
 for practice and profit, he prefently digeft- 
 ed it into that form which we behold. 
 
 THE two firft books treat of Kerbs, in 
 a ftyle reftmbling the elegies of Ovid and 
 Tibullus, in the fweetnefs and freedom 
 of the verfe ; but excelling them in the 
 ftrength of the fancy, and vigour of the 
 fenfe. The third and fourth difcourfe of 
 Flowers in all the variety of CATULLUS 
 and HORACE'S numbers: for the laft of 
 D 2 which
 
 36 THE LIFE OF 
 
 which authors he had a peculiar reverence, 
 and imitated him, not only in the (lately 
 and numerous pace of his odes and epodes, 
 but in the familiar eafmefs of his epiftles 
 and fpeeches. The two laft fpeak of Trees, 
 in the way of VIRGIL'S Georgics. Of 
 theie the fixth book is wholly dedicated 
 to the honour of his country. For, making 
 the Britiih Oak to prefide in the aflembly 
 of the foreft trees, upon that occafion he 
 enlarges on the hiftory of our late troubles, 
 the King's affliction and return, and the 
 beginning of the Dutch war : and mana- 
 ges all in a ftyle, that (to fay all in a 
 word) is equal to the greatnefs and valour 
 of the Englifh nation. 
 
 I TOLD you, Sir, that he was very hap- 
 py in the way of HORACE'S fpeeches. 
 But of this there are but two inftances 
 preferved : that part of an epiftle to Mr. 
 CRESWEL, with which he concludes his. 
 preface to his book of plants : and that 
 copy which is written to yourfelf. I con- 
 
 fefs.
 
 MR. A. CQWLEY. 37 
 
 fefs, I heartily wifh he had left more ex- 
 amples behind him of this kind : becanfc 
 I etteem it to be one of the beft and molt 
 difficult, of all thofe that antiquity has 
 taught us. It is certainly the very origi- 
 nal of true raillery , and differs as much 
 from fome of the other Latin fatyrs, as the 
 pleafant reproofs of a gentleman, from the 
 leverity of a fchool-matter. I know fome 
 men difapprove it, becaufe the verfe feems 
 to be loofe, and near to the plain nefs of 
 common difcourfe. But that which was 
 admired by the court of Auguftus, never 
 ought to be efteemed flat, or vulgar. And 
 the fame judgement mould be made of 
 mens ftyles, as of their behaviour and car- 
 riage: wherein that is moft courtly, and 
 hardeft to be imitated, which confifts of a 
 natural eafmefsand unaffected grace, where 
 nothing feems to be ftudied, yet every 
 thing is extraordinary. 
 
 THIS familiar way of verfe puts me in 
 mind of one kind of profe whereiri Mr. 
 
 D "> COWLEY 
 
 C A
 
 3 THE LIFE OF 
 
 COWLEY was excellent-, and that is, his let* 
 ters to his private friends. In thefe he 
 always exprefied the native tendernefs and 
 innocent gaiety of his mind. I think, Sir, 
 you and I have the greateft collection of 
 this fort. But I know you agree with me, 
 that nothing of this nature mould be pub- 
 Jifhed : and herein you have always con- 
 fented to approve of the modeft judgement 
 of our countrymen, above the practice of 
 fome of our neighbours, and chiefly of the, 
 French, I make no manner of queltion, 
 but the Englifli at this time are infinitely 
 improved in this way, above the (kill of 
 former ages ; nay, of all countries roun4 
 about us, that pretend to greater eloquence. 
 Yet they have been always judicioufly fpar-p 
 ing, in printing fuch compofures, while 
 fome other witty nations have tired all their 
 prefles and readers with them. The truth 
 is, the letters that pafs between particular 
 friends, if they are written as they ought; 
 to be, can fcarce ever be fit to fee the light, 
 'JThey mould not confift of fulfome com* 
 
 pliments,
 
 MR. A. COWL EY. 39 
 
 pliments, or tedious politics, or elaborate 
 elegancies, or general fancies. But they 
 fliould have a native clearnefs and fhort- 
 nefs, a domeftical plainnefs, and a peculiar 
 kind of familiarity j which can only affect 
 the humour of thofe to whom they were 
 intended. The very fame pafiages, which 
 make writings of this nature delightful 
 amongft friends, will lofe all manner of 
 tafte when they come to be read by thofe 
 that are indifferent. In fuch letters the 
 fouls of men fhould appear undrefied j 
 and in that negligent habit, they may be 
 fit to be feen by one or two in a chamber, 
 but not to go abroad into the flreet. 
 
 THE lad pieces, that we have from his 
 hands, aredifcourfes, by way ofefiays, upon 
 fome of the graveft fubjects that concern 
 the contentment of a virtuous mind./Thefe 
 he intended as a real character of his own 
 thoughts, upon the point of his retirement. 
 And accordingly you may oblerve, that in 
 the profe of them, there is little curiofity 
 D 4 of
 
 40 THELIFEOF 
 
 of ornament [c~] ; but they are written in a 
 lower and humbler ftyie than the reft, and, 
 as an unfeigned image of his foul mould be 
 drawn, without flattery. I do not fpeak 
 thi3 to their difadvantage. For the true 
 perfection of wit is, to be pliable to all oc- 
 cafions,ro walk or fly, according to the na- 
 ture of every fubjedl. And there is, no 
 doubt, as much art, to have only plain 
 conceptions on ibme arguments, as there 
 is in others to have extraordinary flights. 
 
 To thefe, that he has here left fcarce 
 finifhed, it was his defign to have added 
 many others. And a little before his death, 
 he communicated to me his refolutions, to 
 have dedicated them all to my Lord ST, 
 ALBANS, as a teftimony of his entire re- 
 fpecls to him-, and a kind of apology for 
 having left human affairs, in the ftrength 
 of his age, while he might ftill have been 
 ferviceable to his country. But, though he 
 
 [c] little curiojity of ornament] i. e. no quaintncfs 
 ef conceit, and no affectation of language. 
 
 was
 
 MR. A. COWL EY. 41 
 
 was prevented in this purpofe by this death, 
 yet it becomes the office of a friend to 
 make good his intentions. I therefore here 
 prefume to make a prefent of them to his 
 Lordlhip. I doubt not but, according to his 
 ufual humanity, he will accept this imper- 
 fect legacy, of the man whom he long 
 honoured with his domeftic converfation. 
 And I am confident his Lordfhip will be- 
 lieve it to be no injury to his fame, that in 
 thefe papers my Lord ST. ALBANS and 
 Mr. COWI,EY'S name mall be read together 
 by poilerity. 
 
 I MIGHT, Sir, have made a longer dif- 
 courfe of his writings, but that I think it 
 fit to direct my fpeech concerning him 
 by the fame rule by which he was wont to 
 judge of others. In his efteem of other 
 men, he conflantly preferred the good tem- 
 per of their minds, and honefty of their 
 actions, above all the excellencies of their 
 eloquence or knowledge. The fame courfe 
 J will take in his praife, which chiefly 
 
 ought
 
 42 THELIFEOF 
 
 ought to be fixed on his life. For that, 
 he deferves more applaufe from the moil 
 virtuous men, than for his other abilities 
 he ever obtained from the learned. 
 
 ,HE had indeed a perfect natural good- 
 nefs, which neither the uncertainties of his 
 condition,northe largenefsof his wit, could 
 pervert. He had a firmnefs and ilrength of 
 mind, that v/as of proof againft the art of 
 poetry itfelf. Nothing vain or fantaftical, 
 nothing flattering or infolent, appeared in 
 his humour. He had a great integrity and 
 plainnefs of manners ; which he preferved 
 to the laft, though much of his time was 
 fpent in a nation, and way of life, that is not 
 very famous for fmcerity. But the truth of 
 his heart was above the corruption of ill 
 examples : and therefore the fight of them 
 rather confirmed him in the contrary virtues. 
 
 THERE was nothing affected or fingular 
 in his habit, or perfon, or gefture. He un- 
 derftood the forms of good-breeding enough 
 
 to
 
 MR. A. COWL EY. 43 
 
 to pra&ife them without burdening him- 
 felf or others. He never opprefled any 
 man's parts, nor ever put any man out of 
 countenance. He never had any emula- 
 tion for fame, or contention for profit 
 with any man. "When he was in bufmefs, 
 he fuffered others importunities with much 
 eafmefs : when he was out of it, he was 
 never importunate himfelf. His modefty 
 and humility were fo great, that, if he had 
 not had many other equal virtues, they 
 plight have been thought diflimulation. 
 
 His converfation was certainly of the 
 moft excellent kind; for it was fuch as 
 was rather admired by his familiar friends, 
 than by ftrangersat firil fight. Hefurprized 
 no man at firft with any extraordinary ap- 
 pearance : he never thruil himfelf violently 
 jnto the good opinion of his company, 
 He was content to be known by leifure 
 and by degrees : and fo the efteem, that 
 was conceived of him, was better ground- 
 ed and more latting. 
 
 IN
 
 THE LIFE OF 
 
 IN his fpeech, neither the pleafantnefs ex* 
 eluded gravity, nor was the fobriety of it in- 
 confiftent with delight. No man parted wil- 
 lingly from his difcourfe : for he fo ordered 
 it, that every man was fatisfied that he had 
 his fhare. He governed his paflions with 
 great moderation. His virtues were never 
 troublefome or uneafy to any. Whatever 
 he difliked in others, he only corrected it 
 by the filent reproof of a better practice. 
 
 His wit was fo tempered, that no man 
 had ever reafon to wiih it had been lefs ; he 
 prevented other men's feverity upon it by 
 his own : he never willingly recited any of 
 his writings. None but his intimate friends 
 ever difcovered he was a great poet, by his 
 difcourfe. His learning was large and pro- 
 found, well compofed of all ancient and 
 modern knowledge. But it fat exceeding 
 clofe and handfomely upon him : it was 
 not emboffed on his mind, but enamel- 
 
 Jed. 
 
 HE
 
 MR. A. COW LEY. 45 
 
 HE never guided his life by the whifpers 
 or opinions of the world : yet he had a 
 great reverence for a good reputation. He 
 hearkened to fame, when it was a juft cen- 
 furer : but not when an extravagant babler. 
 He was a pafiionate lover of liberty and 
 freedom from reftraint both in actions and 
 words: but what honefty others receive 
 from the direction of laws, he had by na- 
 tive inclination ; and he was not behold- 
 ing to other men's wills, but to his own, 
 for his innocence. 
 
 HE performed all his natural and civil 
 duties with admirable tendernefs. Hav- 
 ing been born after his father's death, and 
 bred up under the dilcipline of his mother, 
 he gratefully acknowledged her care of his 
 education to her death, which was in 
 the eightieth year of her age. For his three 
 brothers he always maintained a conibnt 
 affection. And having furvived the two 
 firtt, he made the third his heir. In his 
 
 long
 
 46 THELIFEOF 
 
 long dependance on my Lord ST. ALBANS* 
 there never happened any manner of dif- 
 ference between them : except a little at 
 laft, becaufe he would leave his fervice -, 
 which only fhewed the innocence of the 
 fervant, and the kindnefs of the matter. 
 His friendfhips were inviolable. The fame 
 men with whom he was familiar in his 
 youth, were his nearefb acquaintance at the 
 day of his death. If the private courfe of 
 his laft years made him contract his con- 
 verfation to a few, yet he only withdrew, 
 not broke off, from any of the others. 
 
 His thoughts were never above nor be- 
 low his condition. He never wifhed his 
 eftate much larger. Yet he enjoyed what 
 he had with all innocent freedom i he never 
 made his preient life uncomfortable, by 
 undue expectations of future things. What- 
 ever difappointments he met with, they 
 only made him understand fortune better, 
 not repine at her the more : his Mufe in- 
 deed once complained, but never his mind. 
 
 He
 
 MR. A. COWLEY. 47 
 
 He was accomplished with all manner of 
 abilities for the greateft bufmefs ; if he 
 would but have thought fo himfelf. 
 
 IF any thing ought to have been changed 
 in his temper and difpofition ; it was his 
 earneft affection for obfcurity and retire- 
 ment. This, Sir, give me leave to condemn, 
 even to you, who I know agreed with him 
 in the fame humour. I acknowledge he 
 chofe that ftate of life, not out of any poe- 
 tical rapture, but upon a fteady and fober 
 experience of human things. But, however, 
 I cannot applaud it in him. It is certainly 
 a great diiparagement to virtue, and learn- 
 ing itfelf, that thofevery things which only- 
 make men ufeful in the world, fhould in- 
 cline them to leave it. This ought never 
 to be allowed to good men, unlels the bad 
 had the fame moderation, and were willing 
 to follow them into the wildernefs. But, 
 if the one Ihall contend to get out of em- 
 ployment, while the other ftrive to get into 
 h, the affairs of mankind are like to be in 
 
 fo
 
 48 THE LIFE OF 
 
 fo ill a pofture, that even the good men 
 themfelves will hardly be able to enjoy 
 their very retreats in fecurity. 
 
 YET, I confefs, if any deferved to have 
 this privilege, it ought to have been granted 
 to him, as foon as any man living, upon 
 confideration of the manner in which he 
 fpent the liberty that he got. For he 
 withdrew himfelf out of the crowd, with 
 defires of enlightening and inftrufting the 
 minds of thofe that remained in it. It was 
 Jiis refoiution in that ftation to fearch into 
 the fecrets of divine and human know- 
 ledge, and to communicate what he mould 
 obferve. He always profefied, that he 
 went out of the world, as it was man's, into 
 the fame world, as it was nature's, and as it 
 was God's. The whole compafs of the crea- 
 tion, and all the wonderful effects of the di- 
 vine wifdom, were the conftant profpedt of 
 his fenfes and his thoughts. And indeed he 
 entered with great ad vantage on the fludies 
 of nature, even as the firft great men of an- 
 tiquity
 
 MR. A> COWLEY. 49 
 
 tiquky did, who were generally both poets 
 and philofophcrs. He betook himfelf to 
 its contemplation, as well furnifhed with 
 found judgement, and diligent obfervation, 
 and good method to difcover its mylte- 
 ries, as with abilities to fet it forth in all 
 its ornaments. 
 
 THIS labour about natural fcience was 
 the perpetual and uninterrupted tafk of 
 that obfcure part of his life. Befides this, 
 we had perfuaded him to look backinto 
 his former ftudies, and to publil> a dif- 
 courie concerning ftyle. In this he had 
 defigned to give an account of the proper 
 forts of writing, that were fit for all man- 
 ner of arguments, to compare the per- 
 fections and imperfections of the authors 
 of antiquity with thofe of this prcfent age, 
 and to deduce all down to the particular 
 life of the Englifh genius and language. 
 This fubject he was very ftt to perform : 
 it being moft proper for him to be the 
 judge, who had been the beil praftifer. 
 
 VOL. I. E But
 
 .p T H E L I F E O F 
 
 But he fcarce lived to draw the firft lines 
 of it. All the footfteps that I can find 
 remaining of it, are only fome indigefted 
 characters of ancient and modern authors. 
 And now for the future, I almoft defpair 
 ever to fee it well accompli(hed,unlefs you, 
 Sir, would give me leave to name the man 
 that fhould undertake it. 
 
 BUT his laft and principal defign, was 
 that which ought to be the principal to 
 every wife man ; the eftabliming his mind 
 in the faith he profefied. He was in his 
 practice exactly obedient to the ufe and 
 precepts of our church. Nor was he in- 
 clined to any uncertainty and doubt, as ab- 
 horring all contention in indifferent things, 
 and much more in facred. But he beheld 
 the divifions of Chriftendom : he faw how 
 many controverfies had been introduced by 
 zeal or ignorance, and continued by faction. 
 He had therefore an earneft intention of 
 taking a review of the original principles 
 of the primitive Church : believing that 
 
 every
 
 MR. A. COWLEV. 51 
 
 every true Chriftian had no better means 
 to fettle his fpirit, than that which was 
 propofed to ./ENEAS and his followers, to 
 be the end of their wanderings, 
 
 " antiquam exquirite matrem [</]." 
 
 THIS examination he purpofed fhould 
 reach to our Saviour's and the Apoftles 
 lives, and their immediate fucceflbrs for 
 four or five centuries, till intereft and po- 
 licy prevailed over devotion. He hoped 
 to have abfolutely compared it in three or 
 four years ; and when that was done, there 
 to have fixed for ever, without any fhaking 
 or alteration in his judgement. Indeed it 
 was a great damage to our church, that 
 he lived not to perform it. For very 
 much of the primitive light might have 
 been expected from a mind that was en- 
 dued with the primitive meeknels and in- 
 nocence. And befides, fuch a work, com- 
 ing from one that w?.s no divine* mighc 
 have been very ufeful for this age : where- 
 
 [</] Virg. JEn. ill. 96. 
 
 2 in
 
 S* THE LIFE OF 
 
 in it is one of the principal cavils againft 
 religion, that it is only a matter of intereft, 
 and only fupported for the gain of a par- 
 ticular profeflion. 
 
 BUT alas ! while he was framing thefe 
 great things in his thoughts, they were un- 
 fortunately cut off, together with his life. 
 His folitude, from the very beginning, had 
 never agreed fo well with the conftitution 
 of his body, as of his mind. The chief 
 caufe of it was, that, out of hafte to be gone 
 away from the tumult and noife of the 
 city, he had not prepared fo healthful a 
 fituation in the country, as he might have 
 done, if he had made a more leifurable 
 choice. Of this he foon began to find the 
 inconvenience at Barn-Elms, where he was 
 afflicted with a dangerous and lingering 
 fever. After that, he fcarce ever recovered 
 his former health, though his mind was 
 reftored to its perfect vigour : as may be 
 feen by his two laft books of plants, that 
 were written fince that time, and may at 
 lead be compared with the beft of his 
 
 other
 
 MR. A. COWL EY. 53 
 
 other works. Shortly after his removal to 
 Chertfea, he fell into another confuming 
 difeafe. Having languifhed under this for 
 fome months, he feemed to be pretty well 
 cured of its ill fymptoms. But in the 
 heat of the laft fummer, by ftaying too 
 long amongft his labourers in the meadows-, 
 he was taken with a violent defluxion, and 
 ftoppage in his breaft and throat. This 
 he at firfl neglected, as an ordinary cold ; 
 and refufed to fend for his ufual phyfi- 
 cians, till it was paft all remedies ; and fo 
 in the end, after a fortnight's ficknefs, it 
 proved mortal to him. 
 
 WHO can here, Sir, forbear exclaiming on 
 the weak hopes and frail condition of hu- 
 man nature ? For as long as Mr. COWLEV 
 was purfuingthecouife of ambition, in an 
 adtive life, which he fcarce efteemed his 
 true life; he never wanted a confiant health, 
 and ftrengthof body. But as foon as ever he 
 had found an opportunity of beginning in- 
 deed to live, and to enjoy himfelf in fecu- 
 E 3 rity,
 
 54 t H E L I F E O F 
 
 rity, his contentment was firft broken by 
 fick nefs, and at laft his death was occafioned 
 by his very delight in the country and the 
 fields, which he had long fancied above all 
 other pleafures. But let us not grieve at 
 this fatal accident upon his account, left we 
 Jhould feem to repine at the happy change of 
 his condition, and not to know that the lofs 
 of a few years, which he might longer have 
 lived, will be recompenfed by an immor> 
 tal memory. If we complain, let it only 
 be for our own fakes : that in him we are 
 at oncedeprived of the greateft natural and 
 improved abilities, of the ufefulleft con- 
 yerfation,of the faithfulleft friendfhip, of a 
 mind that practifed the beft virtues itfelf, 
 and a wit that was beft able to recommend 
 them to others. 
 
 His body was attended to Weftminfter 
 Abbey by a great number of perfons of 
 the moft eminent quality, and followed 
 with the praifes of all good and learned 
 men. It lies near the afhes of CHAUCER 
 I and
 
 
 MR. A. COWL EY. 55 
 
 and SPENSER, the two mod famous Eng- 
 Jilh poets of former times. But whoever 
 would do him right, fhould not only equal 
 him to the principal ancient wfiters of our 
 own nation, but fhould alfo rank his name 
 amongft the authors of the true antiquity, 
 the beft of the Greeks and Romans. In 
 that place there is a monument defigne^ 
 for him, by my Lord Duke of BUCKING- 
 HAM, in teftimony of his affedion. And 
 the King himfelfwas pleafed to beflowon 
 him the beft epitaph, when, upon the news 
 of his death, his Majefty declared [e]. That 
 Mr. COWI.EY bad not left a better man be* 
 hind him in England. 
 
 > ' ~~~ 
 
 THIS, Sir, is the account that I thought 
 
 fit to prefent the world concerning him. 
 Perhaps it may be judged, that I have 
 fpent too many words on a private man, 
 and a fcholar : whofe life was not remark- 
 
 [e] his Majefty declared, &c.] Which only (hews, 
 that the curfe of PERSIUS had fallen upon that 
 prince " Virtutem videant, intabefgantque relifta." 
 Sat. iii. 35, 
 
 E 4 abl<J
 
 able for fuch a variety of events, as are 
 wont to be the ornaments of this kind of 
 relations. I know it is the cuftom of the 
 world, to prefer the pompous hiftories of 
 great men, before the greateft virtues of 
 others, whofe lives have been led in a courfe 
 lefs illuftrious. This indeed is the gene- 
 ral humour. But I believe it to be an er- 
 ror in mens judgements. For certainly, 
 that is a more profitable inftrudlion, which 
 may be taken from the eminent goodnefs 
 of men of lower rank, than that which 
 we learn from the fplendid reprefentations 
 of the battles, and victories, and buildings, 
 and fayings, of great commanders and 
 princes. Such fpecious matters, as they 
 are feldom delivered with fidelity, fo they 
 ferve but for the imitation of a very few, 
 and rather make for the oftentation than 
 the true information of human life. Where- 
 as it is from the practice of men equal to 
 ourlelves, that \\eare more naturally taught 
 how to command our paffions, to direct 
 our knowledge, and to govern our actions.
 
 MR. A. COWLEY. 57 
 
 FOR this reafon, I have fome hope, that 
 a character of Mr. COWLEY may be of 
 good advantage to our nation. For what 
 he wanted in titles of honour and the gifts 
 of fortune, was plentifully fupplied by 
 many other excellencies, which make per- 
 haps lefs noife, but are more beneficial for 
 example. This, Sir, was the principal end 
 of this long difcourfe. Befides this, I had 
 another defign it it, that only concerns 
 ourfelves , that, having this picture of his 
 life fet before us, we may ftill keep him 
 alive in our memories, and by this means 
 may have fome fmall reparation for our 
 inexprefiible lofs by his death. Sir, I am, 
 
 Your moft humble, 
 
 and moft affecYionate fervant, 
 T. SPRAT. 
 
 ELE-
 
 [ 59 1 
 
 EL E G I A 
 
 DEDICATORIA, 
 
 A D 
 
 ILLUSTRISSIMAM ACADEMIAM 
 CANTABRIGIENSEM. 
 
 HO C tibi de nato, ditiffima mater, egeno 
 Exiguum immenfi pignus amoris habe. 
 Heu, meliora tibi depromere dona volentes 
 
 Aftringit gratas parcior area manust 
 Tune tui poteris vocem hie agnofcere nati 
 
 Tarn male formatam, diffimilemque tuae ? 
 Tune hie materni veftigia facra decoris, 
 
 Tu fpeculum poteris hie reperire tuum ? 
 Poft longum, dices, Coulei, fie mihi tempus ? 
 
 Sic mihi fperanti, perfide, multa red is ? 
 Quae, dices, Sagae LemurefqueDeseque, nocentes, 
 
 Hunc mihi in infantis fuppofuere loco ? 
 At tu, fan&a parens, crudelis tu quoque, nati 
 
 Jtfe traces dextra -vulnera cruda rudi. 
 
 Hei
 
 6o E L E G I A 
 
 Hei mihi, quid fato genetrix accedis iniquo ? 
 
 Sit fors, fed non fis, ipfa, noverca mihi. 
 Si mihi natali Mufarum adolefcere in arvo. 
 
 Si bene dilecto luxuriare folo, 
 Si mihi de dofta licuiffet plenius unda 
 
 Haurire, ingentem fi fatiare fitim, 
 Non ego degeneri dubitabilis ore redirem, 
 
 Nee legeres nornen fufa rubore meum. 
 Scis benc, fcis quas me tampeftas publica mundi 
 
 Raptatrix veftro fuftulit e gremio, 
 Nee pede adhuc firmo, nee firmo dente, negati 
 
 Pofcentem querulo murmure la<Stis opem. 
 Sic quondam, ae'rium vento bellante per aequor, 
 
 Cumgravidum autumnum faeva Hagellat hyems, 
 Immatura fua vellunturab arborepoma, 
 
 Et vi vidla cadunt ; arbor & ipfa gemit, 
 Nondum fuccus ineft terrae generofus avitae, 
 
 Nondum fol rofeo redditur ore pater. 
 O mihi jucundum Grantae fuper omnia nomen ! 
 
 O penitus toto corde receptus amor ! 
 O pulcras fine luxu aedes, vitasque beatae, 
 
 Splendida paupertas, ingenuufque decor ! 
 O chara ante alias, magnorum nomine regum 
 
 Digna domus ! Trini nomine digna Dei ! 
 O nimium Cereris cumulati munere campi, 
 
 Pofthabitis Ennas quos colit ilia jugis ! 
 O facri fontes ! & facras vatibus umbrae, 
 
 Quas recreant avium Pieridumque chori ! 
 
 I O Camus !
 
 DEDICATORIA. 61 
 
 O Camus ! Phcebo nullus quo gratior amnis ! 
 
 Amnibus auriferis invidiofus inops ! 
 Ah mihi fi veftrae reddat bona gaudia fedis, 
 
 Detque Deus dodta pofie quiete frui ! 
 Qualiseram, cum me tranquilla mente fedentem. 
 
 Vidifti in ripa, Came ferene, tua ; 
 Mulcentem audifti puerili flumina cantu j 
 
 Ille quidem immerito, fed tibi gratus erat. 
 Nam, mernini ripa cum tu dignatus utraque, 
 
 Dignatum eft totum verba referre nemus. 
 Tune liquidis tacitifque fimul mea vita diebus, 
 
 Et fimilis veftrae Candida fluxit aquae. 
 At nunc coenofae luces, atque obice multo 
 
 Rumpitur aetatis turbidusordo meze. 
 Quid mihi Sequana opus, Tamefisve aut Thy- 
 bridis unda ? 
 
 Tu potis es noftram tollere, Came, fitim. 
 Felix, qui nunquam plus uno viderit amne ! 
 
 Quique eadem Salicis littora more colit ! 
 Felix, qui non tentatus fordefcere mundus, 
 
 Et cui pauperies nota nitere poteft ! 
 Tempore cui nullo mifera experientia conftat, 
 
 Ut res humanas fentiatefle nihil ! 
 At nos exemplis fortuna inftruxitopimis, 
 
 Et documentorum fatque fuperquededit. 
 Cum capite avulfum diadema, infradtaque fceptra> 
 
 Contuiafque hominum ibrte minante minas, 
 
 Parcaruru
 
 $2 L E G I A, &c. 
 
 Parcarum ludos^ & non traftabile fatum, 
 
 Et verfas fundo vidimus orbis opes. 
 Quis poterit fragilem poft talia credere puppirn 
 
 Infami fcopulisnaufragiifquemari ? 
 Tu quoque inhoc terrae tremuifti,Academia,motu* 
 
 (Nee fruftra) atque aedes contremuere tuae : 
 Contremuere ipfae pacatas Palladis acres ; 
 
 Et timuit fulmen laurea fandla novum. 
 Ah quanquam iratum, peftem hanc avertere numen, 
 
 Nee faltem bellis ifta licere, velit ! 
 Nos, tua progenies, pereamus ; & ecce, perimus I 
 
 In nos jus habeat : jus habet omne malum. 
 Tu ftabilis brevium genus immortale nepotum 
 
 Fundes ; nee tibi mors ipfa fuperftes erit : 
 Semper plena manens uteri de fonte perenni 
 
 Formofas mittes ad mare mortis aquas. 
 Sic Venus humana quondam, Dea faucia dextra, 
 
 (Namque folent ipfis bella nocere Deis) 
 Imploravit opem fuperum, queftufque cievit, 
 
 Tinxit adorandus Candida membra cruor. 
 Quid quereris ? contemne breves fecura dolores : 
 
 Nam tibl-ferre necem vulnera nulla valent<r 
 
 THE
 
 THE 
 
 AUTHOR'S PREFACE 
 
 T O 
 
 His EDITION in Folio, 1656. 
 
 A T my return lately into England [/], 
 ** T met by great accident (for fuch I 
 account it to be, that any copy of it ihould 
 be extant any where fo long, unlefs at 
 his houfe who printed it) a book enthuled, 
 The Iron Age, and publiflied under my 
 name, during the time of my abfence. I 
 wondered very much how one who could 
 be fo foolifh to write fo ill verfes, ftioukl 
 yet be fo wife to let them forth as another 
 man's rather than his own , though per- 
 haps he might have made a better choice, 
 and not fathered the baftard upon fuch 
 
 If] In 1656. 
 
 a perfon,
 
 64 THEAUTHOR'S 
 
 . a perfon, whofe flock of reputation is, 1 
 , fear, little enough for maintenance of his 
 own numerous legitimate ofF-fpring of that 
 kind. It would have been much lefs in- 
 jurious, if it had pleafed the author to put 
 forth fome of my writings under his own 
 name, rather than his own under mine : 
 he had been in that a more pardonable 
 plagiary, and had done lefs wrong by rob- 
 bery, than he does by fuch a bounty ; for 
 nobody can be juftified by the imputa- 
 tion even of another's merit ; and our own 
 coarfe cloaths are like to become us bet- 
 ter than thofe of another man, though 
 never fo rich : but thefe, to fay the truth, 
 were fo beggarly, that I myfelf was amamed 
 to wear them. It was in vain for me, that 
 I avoided cenfure by the concealment of 
 my own writings, if my reputation could 
 be thus executed in effigie ; and impofilble 
 it is for any good name to be in fafety, 
 if the malice of witches have the power 
 to confume and deftroy it in an image of 
 .their own making. This indeed was fo 
 
 ill
 
 PREFACE 1 . 65- 
 
 ill made> and fo unlike, that I hope the 
 charm took no effect. So that I elleem 
 myfelf lefe prejudiced by it, than by thac 
 which has been done to me fince, almoft 
 in the fame kind , which is, the publica- 
 tion of fome things of mine without my 
 confentor knowledge, and thofefo mangled 
 and imperfect, that I could neither with 
 honour acknowledge, nor with honefiy 
 quite difavow them. 
 
 OF which fort, was a comedy called The- 
 Guardian, printed in the year 1650; but 
 made and acted before the Prince, in his 
 pafiage through Cambridge towards York, 
 at the beginning of the late unhappy war , 
 or rather neither made nor acted, but 
 rough-drawn only, and repeated , for the 
 hafte was fo great, that it could neither 
 be revifed or perfected by the author, nor 
 learned without- book by the actors, nor 
 fet forth in any meafure tolerably by the 
 officers of t' e college. After the repre^ 
 fentation (which, I confefs, was fomewhat 
 
 VOL. I. F cf
 
 66 T H E A U T 
 
 of the lateft) I began to look it over, 
 and changed it very much, finking out 
 fome whole parts, as that of the poet and 
 the foldier ; but I have loft the copy, and 
 dare not think it deferves the pains to 
 write it again, which makes me omit it 
 in this publication, though there be fome 
 things in it which I am not afhamed of, 
 taking the excule of my age and fmall ex- 
 perience in human converfation when I 
 made it. But, as it is, it is only the hafty 
 firft-fitting of a piflure, and therefore like 
 to refemble me accordingly. 
 
 FROM this which has happened to my- 
 felf, I began to reflect on the fortune of 
 almoft all writers, and efpecially poets, 
 whofe works (commonly printed after their 
 deaths) we find {luffed out, either with 
 counterfeit pieces, like falfe money put in 
 to fill up the ba^, though it add nothing 
 to the fum ; or with fuch, which, though 
 of their own coin, they would have called 
 in themfelves, for the bafenefs of the allay : 
 
 whether
 
 PREFACE. 67 
 
 whether this proceed from the indifcretion 
 of their friends, who think a vaft heap of 
 ftones or rubbifh a better monument than 
 a little tomb of marble, or by the unwor- 
 thy avarice of fome ftationers, who are 
 content to diminifh the value of the au- 
 thor, fo they may increafe the price of the 
 book ; and, like vintners, with fcphifti- 
 cate mixtures, fpoil the whole vefiel of 
 wine, to make it yield more profit. This 
 has been the caie with SHAKESPEAR, 
 FLETCHER, JONSOX, and many others; 
 part of whofe poems I fhould take 'the 
 boldnefs to prune and lop away, it" the care 
 of replanting them in print did : belong to 
 me [g\: neither would 1 make any (cruple 
 to cut off from fome the unneceffary young 
 fuckers, and from others the old withered 
 branches ; for a great wit is no more tied 
 to live in a vail volume, than in a gigan- 
 tic body ; on the contrary, it is corn^ 
 monly more vigorous, the lefs ipace it 
 
 [j>-] The editor's apology for the liberty taken in 
 this edition, is here made by the author himfelf. 
 
 F 2 animates.
 
 * THE AUTHOR'S 
 
 animates. And, as STATIUS fays of little 
 TYDEUS {>], 
 
 Totos infufa per artus 
 
 Major in exiguo regnabat corpore virtus. 
 
 I am not ignorant, that, by faying this of 
 others, I expofe myfelf to fome raillery, 
 for not ufing the fame fevere difcretion in 
 my own cafe, where it concerns me nearer : 
 B.ut though I publifh here more than in 
 fcrict wifdorn I ought to have done, yet I 
 have fuppreft and caft away more than 1 
 publifh i and, for the eafe of myfelf and 
 others, have loft, I believe too, more than 
 botru And upon thefe confiderations I 
 have been periuaded to overcome all the 
 juil repugnances of my own modeily, and 
 to produce thefe poems to the light and 
 view of the world ; not as a thing that I 
 approved of in itfelf, but as a lefs evil, 
 which I chofe rather than to flay till it 
 were done for me by fomebody elfe, ei- 
 ther furreptitioufly before, or avowedly af- 
 
 [] Stat. Theb.Li.4i6. 
 
 ter,.
 
 PREFACE. 69 
 
 ter, my death : and this will be the more 
 excufable, when the reader mall know in 
 what refpedts he may look upon me as a 
 dead, or at leaft a dying pcrfon, and upon 
 my Mufe in this action, as appearing, like 
 the Emperor CHARLES the Fifth, and af- 
 fifting at her own funeral. 
 
 FOR, to makemyfelf abfolutely dead in 
 a poetical capacity, my refolution at pre- 
 fent is, never to exercile any more that fa- 
 culty. It is, I confefs, but fcldom fecn 
 that the poet dies before the man ; for, 
 when we once fall in love with that be- 
 witching art, we do not ufe to court it as 
 a miftrels, but marry it as a wife, and take 
 it for better or worfe, as an inieparable 
 companion of our whole life. But, as the 
 marriages of infants do but rarely profper, 
 fo no man ought to wonder at the dimi- 
 nution or decay of my affedtion to poely ; 
 to which I had contracted myfelf fo much 
 under age, and fo much to my own pre- 
 judice in regard of thole more profitable 
 F 3 matches,
 
 70 THE AUTHOR'S 
 
 matches, v/hich I might have made among 
 the richer fciences. As for the portion 
 which this brings of fame, it is an eftate 
 (if it be any, for men are not oftener de- 
 ceived in their hopes of widows, than in 
 their opinion of, " Exegi monumentum 
 " asreperennius "jthathardly ever comes 
 in whilft we are living to enjoy it, but is a 
 fantaftical kind of reverfion to our own 
 ielves : neither ought any man to envy 
 poets this pofthumous and imaginary hap- 
 pinefs, fince they find commonly ib lit- 
 tle in prefcnt, that it may be truly applied 
 to them, which St. PAUL fpeaks of the 
 firil Chriftians, " If their reward be in 
 " this life, they are of all men the mbft 
 " miferable." 
 
 AND, if in quiet and flourishing times 
 they meet with fo fmall encouragement, 
 what are they to expedfc in rough and 
 troubled ones ? If wit be fuch a plant, that 
 jt fcarce receives heat enough to preferve 
 it a.liye even, in the fummer of our cold 
 
 climate.
 
 PREFACE. 7I 
 
 clim.ite, how can it choofebut wither in a 
 long and a (harp winter ? A warlike, va- 
 rious, and a tragical age is bed to write 
 of, but worft to write in. And I may, 
 though in a very unequal proportion, af- 
 fume that to myfelf, which was fpoken by 
 TL'LLY to a much better peribn, upon oc- 
 cafion of the civil wars and revolutions in 
 his time " Sed in te intuens, Brute, doleo : 
 " cujus in adolefcentiam,prmediaslaudes, 
 " quad quadrigis vehentem, tranfverfa in- 
 " currit mifera fortuna reipublicas [/]." 
 
 NEITHER is the prefent conftitution of 
 my mind more proper than that of the 
 times for this exercile, or rather divertife- 
 ment. There is nothing that requires fo 
 much ferenity and chearfulnefs of fpirit ; 
 it muft not be either overwhelmed with 
 the cares of life, orovercaft with the clouds 
 of melancholy and forrow, or fliaken and 
 difturbed with the ftorms of injurious for- 
 tune ; it muft, like the halcyon, have fair 
 
 [/] Cic. deClar. Orator. 331, 
 
 F A weather
 
 72 THEAUTHO R'S 
 
 weather to breed in. The foul muft be 
 filled with bright and delightful ideas, 
 when itundertakes to communicate delight 
 to others ; which is the main end of poefy. 
 One may fee through the flyle of Ovid de 
 Trift. the humbled and dejefted condition 
 of fpirit with which he wrote it , there 
 fcarce remains any footftep of that genius, 
 
 quern nee Jovis ira, nee ignes [], &c. 
 
 The cold of the country had flrucken 
 through all his faculties, arid benumbed 
 the very feet of his verfes. He is himfelf, 
 methinks, like one of the ftories of his 
 own Metamorphofis ; and, though there 
 remain fome weak refemblances of OVID 
 at Rome, it is but, as he fays of NIOBE [/], 
 
 In vultu color eft fine fanguine: lumina mceftis 
 Stant immota genis : nihil eft in imagine vivi. 
 Flet tamen 
 
 The truth is, for a man to write well, it 
 is neceffary to be in good humour j nei- 
 
 - [/] Metam. 1. xv. 871. 
 [/] Metam. 1. vi. 304.. 
 
 ther
 
 PREFACE. 73 
 
 ther is wit lefs eclipfed with the unquiet- 
 nefs of mind, than beauty with the indii- 
 pofition of body. So that it is almoft as 
 hard a thing to be a poet in defpight of 
 fortune, as it is in defpight of nature. For 
 my own part, neither my obligations to 
 the Mufes, nor expectations from them, 
 are fo great, as that I mould fuffer myfelf 
 on no confiderations to be divorced, or that 
 I mould fay like HORACE [m], 
 
 Quifquis erit vitas," fcribam, color. 
 
 I (hall rather ufe his words in another 
 place [], 
 
 Vixi Camenis nuper idoneus, 
 Et militavi non fine gloria : 
 
 Nunc arma, defun&umque belk> 
 Barbiton hie paries habebit. 
 
 And this refolution of mine does the more 
 befit me, becaufe my defire has been for 
 fome years paft (though the execution has 
 been accidentally diverted) and does ftiU 
 
 [m\ Hor. 2 Sat. i. 60. 
 
 [n] 3 Carm. Ode xxvi. Vixi puellis," &c. 
 
 vehemently
 
 74 THEAUTHOR'S 
 
 vehemently continue, to retire myfelf to 
 fome of our American plantations, not to 
 feek for gold, or inrich myfelf with the 
 traffic of thofe parts (which is the end of 
 moft men that travel thither ; fo that of 
 thefe Indies it is truer than it was of the 
 former, 
 
 Impiger extremos currit mercator ad Indos, 
 Per mare pauperiem fugiens [0]) 
 
 but to forfake this world for ever, with all 
 the vanities and vexations of it, and to bury 
 myfelf there in fome obfcure retreat (but 
 not without the confolation of letters and 
 philofophy) 
 
 Oblitufquemeorum,oblivifcendus & illis [p~\ 
 as my former author fpeaks too, who has 
 inticed me here, Iknow not how, into the 
 pedantry of this heap of Latin fentences. 
 And I think Dr. DONNE'S Sun-dyal in a 
 grave is not more ufelefs and ridiculous, 
 than poetry would be in that retirement, 
 
 [o] Hor. i Ep. i. 45. 
 [/] Hor. i Ep. *i. 9. 
 
 As
 
 PREFACE. 7S 
 
 As this therefore is in a true fenfe a kind 
 of death to the Mufes, and a real literal 
 quitting of this world ; fo, methinks, I 
 may make a juft claim to the undoubted 
 privilege of deceafed poets, which is, to be 
 read with more favour than the living ; 
 
 Tanti eft ut placeam tibi, pcrire [^J. 
 
 HAVING been forced, for my own ne- 
 cefiary juftification, to trouble the reader 
 with this long difcourfeof the reafons why 
 I trouble him alfo with all the reft of the 
 book ; I mail only add fomewhat con- 
 cerning the leveral parts of it, and fome 
 other pieces, which 1 have thought fit to 
 rejeclin this publication: as, firft, all thofe 
 which I wrote at fchool, from the age of 
 ten years, till after fifteen ; for even fo 
 far backward there remain yet fome traces 
 of me in the little footfteps of a child ; 
 which, though they were then looked upon 
 as commendable extravagancies in a boy 
 (men fetting a value upon any kind of 
 
 [f ] Martial, lib. viii. ep. 69. 
 
 fruit
 
 76 T H E A U T H O R'S 
 
 fruit before the ufual feafon of it) yet I 
 would be loth to be bound now to read 
 them all over myfelf ; and therefore mould 
 do ill to expect that patience from others. 
 Befides, they have already pail through 
 feveral editions, which is a longer life than 
 ufes to be enjoyed by infants that are born 
 before the ordinary terms. They had the 
 good fortune then to find the world fo 
 indulgent (for, con fidering the time of their 
 production, who could be fo hard-hearted 
 to be fevere? that I fcarce yet apprehend 
 fo much to be cenfured for them, as 
 for not having made advances after- 
 wards proportionable to the fpeed of my 
 fetting out ; and am obliged too in a man- 
 ner by difcretion to conceal and fupprefs 
 them, as promifes and inflruments under 
 my own hand, whereby I flood engaged 
 for more than I have been able to per- 
 form ; in which truly if I have failed, I 
 have the real excufe of the honeileil fort 
 of bankrupts, which is, to have been made 
 unfolvable, not fo much by their own neg- 
 ligence
 
 PREFACE. 77 
 
 ligence and ill-hufbandry, as by fome no- 
 torious accidents and public difafters. In 
 the next place, 1 have caft away all fuch 
 pieces as 1 wrote during the time of the 
 late troubles, with any relation to the dif- 
 ferences that caufed them ; as, among 
 others, three books of the civil war itfelf, 
 reaching as far as the firft battle of New- 
 bury, where the fucceeding misfortunes of 
 the party ilopt tiie work. 
 
 As for the enfuing book, it confifts of 
 four parts. The firft is a Miicellany of fe- 
 veral fubjefts, and fome of them made 
 when I was very young, which it is per- 
 haps iupertluous to tell the reader: I know 
 not by what chance I have kept copies of 
 them , for they are but a very few in com- 
 panion of thofe which I have loft ; and I 
 think they have no extraordinary virtue in 
 them, to deferve mare care in prefervation, 
 than was beflowed upon their brethren ; 
 for which^i am Ib little concerned, that 1 
 am alhamed of the arrogancy of the word, 
 \vhcn I faid, I had loft them. 
 
 THE
 
 7 8 THEAUTHOR'S 
 
 THE fecond, is called, The Miftrefs, or 
 Love-Vcrfes ; for fo it is, that poets are 
 fcarce thought freemen of their company, 
 without paying fome duties, and obliging 
 themfelves to be true to love. Sooner or 
 later they muft all pafs through that trial, 
 like fome Mahometan monks, that are 
 bound by their order, once at lead in their 
 life, to make a pilgrimage to Mecca : 
 
 In furias ignemque ruunt : amor omnibus 
 idem [r]. 
 
 But we mufi: not always make a judgement 
 of their manners from their writings of 
 this kind ; as the Romanifts uncharitably 
 do of BEZA, for a few lafcivious fonnets 
 compofed by him in his youth. It is not in 
 this fenfe that poefy is faid to be a kind of 
 painting; it is not thepidureof the poet, 
 butof things and peribns imagined by him. 
 He may be in his own practice and dif- 
 pofuion a philofopher,nay a Stoic, and yet 
 
 [>] Virg. Gcorg. iii. 244. 
 
 fpeak
 
 PREFACE. 79 
 
 fpeak fometimes with the foftnefs of an 
 
 amorous Sappho, 
 
 ferat & rubus afper amonuim [jj. 
 
 He profeflfes too much the ufe of fables 
 (though without the malice of deceiving) 
 to have his teftimony taken even againft 
 himfelf. Neither would I here be mif- 
 underftood, as if I affected fo much gra- 
 vity, as to be afhamed to be thought real- 
 ly in love. On the contrary, 1 cannot 
 have a good opinion of any man, who is 
 not at leaft capable of being fo. But I 
 fpeak it to excufe fomc expreffions (if 
 fuch there be) which may happen to of- 
 fend the feverity of fupercilious readers: 
 for much excefs is to be allowed in love, 
 and even more in poetry ; fo we avoid 
 the two unpardonable vices in both, which 
 are obfcenity and profanenefs, of which 
 I am fure, if my words be ever guilty, 
 they have ill reprefented my thoughts and 
 intentions. And if, notwithftanding all 
 
 [j] Virg. Eel. iii. 89. 
 
 this,
 
 So T H E A U T H O R. S 
 
 this, the lightnefs of the matter here dif- 
 pleafe any body j he may find wherewithal 
 to content his more ferious inclinations in 
 the weight and height of the enfuing ar- 
 guments. 
 
 FOR, as for the Pindaric Odes (which is 
 the third part), I am ingreat doubtwhether 
 they will be underftood by moft readers -, 
 nay, even by very many who are well 
 enough acquainted with the common roads 
 and ordinary tracts of poefy. They either 
 are, or at lead were meant to be, of that 
 kind of ftyle which DION. HALICARNAS- 
 
 SEUS Calls, MsjV/iCfpusf x} H/U pjt\A fwornl& , 
 
 and which he attributes to ALC^EUS : the 
 digrefiions are many, and fudden, and 
 fomet.imes long, according to the fafhion of 
 all lyriques, and of PINDAR above all men 
 living. The figures areunulual and bold, 
 even to temerity, and fuch as 1 durft not 
 have to do withal in any other kind of 
 poetry : the numbers are various and ir- 
 regular, and Come times (efpecially fon:e 
 
 of
 
 PREFACE. tt 
 
 of the long ones) feem harfh and uncouth, 
 if the juit meafures and cadences be not 
 obferved in the pronunciation. So that 
 almoft all their fweetnefs and numerofity 
 (which is to be found, if I miftake not, 
 in the rougheft, if rightly repeated) lies 
 in a manner wholly at the mercy of the 
 reader. I have briefly defrribed die na- 
 ture of thefe verfes, in the le entituled, 
 1'he RefurreEfion : and though the liberty 
 of them may incline a man to beli ve tnem 
 eafy to be compofed, yet the undertaker 
 will find it otherwife 
 
 Ut fibi quivis 
 
 Sperct idem; fudetmultum, fruftraqu^ laborer 
 Aufus idem [fj. 
 
 I COME now to the laft part, which is 
 Davideis, or an heroical poem of the trou- 
 bles of DAVID : which [ defigned into 
 twelve bo^ks , not for the tribes fake, but 
 after the pattern of our matter VIRGIL ; 
 and intended to clofe all with that moft 
 
 [/] Hor. A. P. 240. 
 VOL. I. G poetical
 
 82 THEAUTHO R'S 
 
 poetical and excellent elegy of DAVID on 
 the death of SAUL and JONATHAN : for I 
 had no mind to carry him quite on to his 
 anointing at Hebron, becaufe it is the 
 cuftom of heroic poets (as we fee by the 
 examples of HOMER and VIRGIL, whom 
 we fhould do ill to forfake to imitate 
 others) never to come to the full end of 
 their ftory ; but only fo near, that every 
 one may fee it ; as men commonly play 
 not out the game, when it is evident that 
 they can win it, but lay down their cards, 
 and take up what they have won. This, 
 I fay, was the whole defign, in which 
 there are many noble and fertile argu- 
 ments behind ; as the barbarous cruelty 
 of SAUL to the priefls at Nob, the feveral. 
 flights and efcapes of DAVID, with the 
 manner of his living in the Wildernefs, 
 the funeral of SAMUEL, the love of ABIGAL, 
 the lacking of Ziglag r the lofs and reco- 
 very of DAVID'S wives from the Amale- 
 kites, the witch of Endor, the war with- 
 ihe Philiftines, and the battle of Gilboa - y 
 
 all.
 
 PREFACE. 83 
 
 all which I meant to interweave, upon fe- 
 veral occafions, with moft of the illuftrious 
 (lories of the Old Teftament, and to em- 
 belliih with the moft remarkable antiqui- 
 ties of the Jews and of other nations be- 
 fore or at that age. 
 
 BUT I have had neither leifure hitherto* 
 nor have appetite at preient, to finiflh the 
 work, or Ib much as to revile that part 
 which is done, with that care which I re- 
 iblved to beftow upon it, and which the 
 dignity of the matter well deferves. For 
 what worthier fubjedt could have been 
 chofen, among all the treafuries of paft 
 times, than the life of this young prince j 
 who, from ib finall beginnings, through 
 fuch infinite troubles and oppofitions, by 
 fuch miraculous virtues and excellencies, 
 and with fuch incomparable variety of won- 
 derful actions and accidents, became the 
 greateft monarch that ever fat on the moft 
 famous throne of the whole earth ? Whom 
 Ihould a poet more juftly leek to honour, 
 G 2 than
 
 8 4 THEAUTHOR'S 
 
 than the higheft perfon who ever honoured 
 his profeffion ? whom a Chriftian poet, ra- 
 ther than the man after GOD'S own heart, 
 and the man who had that facred preemi- 
 nence above all other princes, to be the 
 beft and mightieft of that royal race 
 from whence Chrift himfelf, according to 
 the flefh, difdained not to defcend ? 
 
 WHEN I confkler this, and how many 
 other bright and magnificent fubjec"ts of 
 the like nature the holy Scripture af- 
 fords and proffers, as it were, to poefy ; 
 in the wife managing and illuftrating 
 whereof the glory of God Almighty might 
 be joined with the fingular utility and no- 
 bleft delight of mankind ; it is not without 
 grief and indignation that I behold that di- 
 vinefcience employing all her inexhauftible 
 riches of wit and eloquence, either in the 
 wicked and beggarly flattery of great per- 
 fons, or the unmanly idolizing of foolifh 
 women, or the wretched affectation of fcur- 
 ril laughter, or at beft on the co-nfufed 
 
 antiquated 
 1
 
 PREFACE. 85 
 
 antiquated dreams of feniclefs fables and 
 metamorphofes. Amongft all holy and 
 confecrated things, which the devil ever 
 ftole and alienated from the fervice of the 
 Deity; as altars, temples, facrifices, prayers, 
 and the like ; there is none that he fo nni- 
 verfally, and fo long ufurpt, as poetry. 
 It is time to recover it out of the tyrant's 
 hands, and to reftore it to the kingdom 
 of God, who is the father of it. It is 
 time to baptize it in Jordan, for it will 
 never become clean by bathing in the 
 water of Damafcus. There wants, me- 
 thinks, but the converfion of that, and the 
 Jews, for the accomplimment of the king- 
 dom of Chrift. And as men, before their 
 receiving of the faith, do not without 
 fome carnal reluctancies apprehend the 
 bonds and fetters of it, but find it after- 
 wards to be the trueft and greateft liberty : 
 it will fare no otherwife with this art, 
 after the regeneration of it ; it will meet 
 with wonderful variety of new, more beau- 
 tiful, and more delightful objects ; neither 
 G 3 will
 
 86 THE AUTHOR'S 
 
 will it want room, by being confined to 
 heaven. 
 
 THERE is not fo great a lye to be found 
 in any poet, as the vulgar conceit of men, 
 that lying is efiential to good poetry. Were 
 there never fo wholefome nouriftiment to 
 be had (but alas, it breeds nothing but 
 difeafes) out of thefe boafted feafts of 
 Jove and fables ; yet, methinks, the un- 
 alterable continuance of the diet fhould 
 make us naufeate it : for it is almoft im- 
 poflible to ferve up any new difh of that 
 kind. They are all but the cold-meats of 
 the ancients, new-heated, and new fee 
 forth. I do not at all wonder that the 
 old poets made fome rich crops out of 
 thefe grounds ; the heart of the foil was 
 not then wrought out with continual til- 
 lage : but what can we expedl now, who 
 come a gleaning, not after the firft reapers, 
 but after the very beggars ? Befides, 
 though thofe mad fcories of the gods 
 ancl heroes feem in themfelves fo ridi- 
 
 cuioys j
 
 PREFACE. 87 
 
 culous i yet they were then the whole 
 body (or rather chaos) of the theology of 
 thofe times. They were believed by all, 
 but a few philofophers, and perhaps fome 
 atheifts j and ferved to good purpole a- 
 mong the vulgar (as pitiful things as they 
 are), in (trengthening the authority of Jaw 
 with the terrors of confciencc, and expecta- 
 tion of certain rewards and unavoidable 
 punifhments. There was no other religion ; 
 and therefore that was better than none at 
 all. But to us, who have no need of 
 them, to us, who deride their folly, and 
 are wearied with their impertinencies ; they 
 ought to appear no better arguments for 
 verfe, than thofe of their worthy fuccefibrs, 
 the knights errant. What can we ima- 
 gine more proper for the ornaments of wit 
 or learning in the ilory of DEUCALION than 
 in that of NOAH ? Why will not the ac- 
 tions of SAMPSON afford as plentiful mat- 
 ter as the labours of HERCULES ? Why 
 is not JEPTHA'S daughter as good a wo- 
 man asIpHiGENiA ? and the friendfhip of 
 G 4 DAVID
 
 88 THEAUTHO R'S 
 
 DAVID and JONATHAN more worthy cele- 
 bration than that of THESEUS and PERIT 
 THOUS ? Does not the paflage of MOSES 
 and the Ifraelites into the Holy Land 
 yield incomparably more poetical variety 
 than the voyages of ULYSSES or J^NEAS ? 
 Are theobfoietethread-baretales of Thebes 
 and Troy half fo ftored with great, he- 
 roical, and fupernatural actions (fmce verfe 
 will needs find or make fuch), as the wars 
 of JOSHUA, of the Judges, of DAVID, and 
 divers others ? Can all the transformations 
 of the gods give fuch copious hints to 
 flourifh and expatiate on, as the true mi- 
 racles of Chrift, or of his prophets and 
 apoilles ? What do I inftance in thefe few 
 particulars? All the books of the Bible 
 are either already mod admirable and ex- 
 alted pieces of poefy, or are the beft mate- 
 rials in the world for it, 
 
 YET, though they be in themfelves fo 
 proper to be made ufe of for this purpofe ; 
 none but a good artift wiliknow how to
 
 PREFACE. 89 
 
 do it : neither muft we think to cut and 
 polifh diamonds with fo little pains and 
 fkill as we do m;.rble. For, if any man 
 defign to compofe a facred poem, by only 
 turning a itory of the Scripture, like Mr. 
 QUARLES'S, or fome other godly matter, 
 like Mr. HEYWOOD of angels, into rhyme; 
 he is ib far from elevating of poefy, that 
 he only abafes divinity. In brief, he who 
 can write a prophane poem well, may 
 write a divine one better , but he who 
 can do that but ill, will do this much 
 worfe. The fame fertility of invention ; 
 the fame wifdom of difpofition ; the fame 
 judgement in obferyance of decencies; 
 the lame luftre and vigor of elocution ; 
 the fame modefty and majefty of number ; 
 briefly, the fame kind of habit, is required 
 to both: only this latter allows better IturF; 
 and therefore would look more deform- 
 edly, ill dreft in it. I am far from af- 
 fuming to myfelf to have fulfilled the 
 duty of this weighty undertaking : but 
 Jure I am, there is nothing yet in our 
 
 language
 
 $o THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE. 
 
 language (nor perhaps in any) that is 
 in any degree anfwerable to the idea that 
 I conceive of it. And I mall be ambi- 
 tious of no other fruit from this weak 
 and imperfedt attempt of mine, but the 
 opening of a way to the courage and in- 
 duftry of fome other perfons, who may 
 be better able to perform it thoroughly 
 and fucccfsfullv. 
 
 THE
 
 THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE 
 
 T O 
 
 THE CUTTER OF COLEMAN-STREET []. 
 
 A COMEDY, called the Guardian, 
 * and made by me when I was very 
 young, was afted formerly at Cambridge ; 
 and fcveral times after, privately, during 
 the troubles, as I am told, with good ap- 
 probation, as it has been lately too at 
 
 [a] This comedy has confiderable merit. The 
 dialogue is eafy enough, and many of the fcenes plea- 
 fant. And, though the fubjeft be farcical, and the 
 plot too much in the Spanifti tafte of intrigue, I mould, 
 perhaps, have infer ted the Cutter of Ccleman-Jtreet in 
 the prefent collection, if, agreeably to the plan and 
 purpofe of this publication, I could have found 
 room for fo long a work. However, the Preface could 
 by no means be omitted, as it ferves to let us into the 
 writer's character, and is written, throughout, in his 
 Own fpirit. % 
 
 Dublin.
 
 9* PREFACE TO THE 
 
 Dublin. There being many things in it 
 which I difliked, and finding myfelf for 
 fome days idle, and alone in the country, 
 I fell upon the changing of it almoft 
 wholly, as now it is, and as it was played 
 fince at his Royal Highnefs's theatre under 
 this new name. It met at the firft repre- 
 fentation with no favourable reception ; 
 and I think there was fomething of faction 
 againfl it, by the early appearance of fome 
 mens difapprobation before they had feen 
 enough of it to build their diflike upon 
 their judgement. Afterwards it got fome 
 ground, and found friends, as well as ad- 
 verfaries. In which condition I ihould 
 willingly let it die, if the main imputation 
 under which it fuftered had been mot only 
 againft my wit or art in thefe matters, and 
 not directed againft the tendered parts 
 of human reputation, good-nature, good- 
 manners, and piety itfelf. 
 
 THE firft clamour, which fome mali- 
 cious peribns raifed, and made a great noife 
 
 with.
 
 CUTTER OF COLEMAN-STREET. 93 
 
 with, was, that it was a piece intended for 
 abuie and fatire againft the King's party. 
 Good God ! againft the King's party ? 
 After having ferved it twenty years, dur- 
 ing all the time of their misfortunes and af- 
 rliftions , I muft be a very rafh and im- 
 prudent perfon, if I chofe out that of their 
 reflitution to begin a quarrel with them. 
 I muft be too mucli a madman to be 
 trufted with fuch an edged tool as comedy. 
 But firft, why mould either the whole party 
 (as it was once diftinguifhed by that name, 
 which I hope is abolifned now by untverfal 
 loyalty), or any man of virtue or honour 
 in it, believe themielves injured, or at all 
 concerned, by the repreientation of the 
 faults and follies of a few, who in the ge- 
 neral divifion of the nation had crouded 
 in among them ? In all mixed numbers 
 (which is the cafe of parties), nay, in the 
 moft entire and continued bodies, there 
 are often ibme degenerated and corrupted 
 parts, which may be caft away from that, 
 and even cut off from this unity, with- 
 out
 
 94 PREFACE TO THE 
 
 piut any infection of fcandal to the re- 
 maining body. The church of Rome, 
 with all her arrogance, and her wide pre- 
 tences of certainty in all truths, and exemp- 
 tion from all errors, does not clap on this 
 enchanted armour of infallibility upon all 
 her particular fubjects, nor is offended at 
 the reproof of her greateft doctors. We 
 are not, I hope, become fuch Puritans our- 
 felves, as to aiTume the name of the con- 
 gregation of the fpotlefs. It is hard for 
 any party to be To ill as that no good, im- 
 poilible to be fo good as that no ill, mould 
 be found among them. And it has been 
 the perpetual privilege of fatire and come- 
 dy, to pluck their vices and follies, though 
 not their perfons, out of the fanftuary of 
 any title. A cowardly ranting foldier, an 
 ignorant charlatanical doctor, a foolifli 
 cheating lawyer, a filly pedantical fcholar, 
 have always been, and {till are, the principal 
 fubjects of all comedies, without any fcan- 
 dal given to thofe honourable profeffions, 
 or even taken by their fevered profeffors. 
 
 And,
 
 CUTTER OP COLEMAN-STREET. 95 
 
 And, if any good phyfician or di vine fhould 
 be offended with me here, for inveighing 
 againil a quack, or for finding Deacon 
 Soaker too often in the butteries, my re- 
 fpect and reverence to their callings would 
 make me troubled at their difpleafure, but 
 I could not abilain from taking them for 
 very choleric and quarrelfome perfons. 
 What does this therefore amount to, if ic 
 were true which is objected ? But it is far 
 from being fo ; for the reprefentation of 
 two marks about the town (fellows merry 
 and ingenious enough, and therefore ad- 
 mitted into better companies than they de- 
 ierve, yet withal two very fcoundrels, which 
 is no unfrequent character at London), 
 the reprefentation, I fay, of thefe as pre- 
 tended officers of the Royal army, was made 
 for no other purpofe but to mow the world, 
 that the vices and extravagances imputed 
 vulgarly to the cavaliers, were really com- 
 mitted by aliens, who only ulurped that 
 name, and endeavoured to cover the re- 
 proach of their indigency, or infamy of 
 
 their
 
 $6 PREFACE TO THE 
 
 their actions, with fo honourable a title. 
 So that the bufmefs was not here to cor- 
 rect or cut off any natural branches, tho' 
 never fo corrupted or luxuriant, but to fe- 
 parate and caft away that vermin, which, 
 by flicking fo clofe to them, had done great 
 and confiderable prejudice both to the 
 beauty and fertility of the tree : and this is 
 plainly faid, and as often inculcated, as if 
 one fhould write round about a fign,THr is 
 a dog, Ibis is a dog^ out of over-much cau- 
 tion left fome might happen to miftake it 
 for a lion. 
 
 THEREFORE, when this calumny could 
 not hold (for the cafe is clear, and will 
 take no colour), fome others fought out 
 a fubtler hint, to traduce me upon the fame 
 fcore; and were angry, that the peribn whom 
 I made a true gentleman, and one both of 
 confiderable quality and fufiferings in the 
 royal party, mould not have a fair and 
 noble character throughout, but mould 
 fubmit, in his great extremities, to wrong 
 
 his
 
 CUTTER OF COLfcMAN-STREET. 97 
 
 his niece for his own relief. This is a re- 
 fined exception, fuch as I little forfaw, 
 nor mould, with the dulnefs of my ufual 
 charity, have found out againft another 
 man in twenty years. The truth is, I did 
 not intend the character of a hero, one of 
 exemplary virtue, and, as HOMER often 
 terms fuch men, unblameable, but an ordi- 
 nary jovial gentleman, commonly called a 
 good fellow, one not fo confcientious as to 
 flarve rather than do the leaft injury, and 
 yet endowed with fo much fenle of honour, 
 as to refufe, when that neceflity was re- 
 moved, the gain of five thoufand pounds, 
 which he might have taken from his niece 
 by the rigour of a forfeiture: and let the 
 franknefs of this latter generofity fo expiate 
 for the former frailty, as may make us not 
 afhamed of his company; for, if his true 
 metal is but equal to his allay, it will not 
 indeed render him one of the fined fort of 
 men, but it will make him current, for 
 aught I know, in any party that ever yet 
 was in the world. If you be to chufe 
 VOL. I. H parts
 
 98 PREPACE TO THE 
 
 parts for a comedy out of any noble or 
 elevated rank of perfons, the moft proper 
 for that work are the worft of that kind. 
 Comedy is humble of her nature, and 
 has always been bred low, fo that fhe 
 knows not how to behave herfelf with the 
 great and accomplifhed. She does not 
 pretend to the brifk and bold qualities of 
 wine, but to the ftomachal acidity of 
 vinegar ; and therefore is beft placed among 
 that fort of people which the Romans 
 call, The lees of ROMULUS. If I had de- 
 figned here the celebration of the virtues 
 of our friends, 1 would have made the 
 fcene nobler where I intended to erect 
 their ftatues. They mould have flood in 
 odes, and tragedies, and epic poems (nei- 
 ther have I totally omitted thofe great 
 teftimonies of my efteem of them) " Sed 
 *' nunc non erat his locus," &c. 
 
 AND fo much for this little fpiny ob- 
 jection, which a man cannot fee without a 
 n.agnifyir.g-glafs. The nex^ is enough to 
 
 knock
 
 CUTTER OF COLEMAN-STREEt. 99 
 
 knock a man down, and accufes me of no 
 lefs than prophanencfs. Prophanc, to deride 
 the hypocrify of thofe men whofe fkulls are 
 not yet bare upon the gates fince the pub- 
 lic and j uft punifhment of it ? But there is 
 fome imitation of Scripture-phrafes: God 
 forbid i there is no repreientation of the 
 true face of Scripture, but only of that 
 vizard which thefe hypocrites (that is, by 
 interpretation, actors with a vizard) draw 
 upon it. Is it prophane to fpeak of HAR- 
 RISON'S return to life again, when fome of 
 his friends really profefied their belief of 
 it -, and he himfelf had been faid to pro- 
 mife it ? A man may be fo imprudently 
 fcrupulous as to find prophanenefs in any- 
 thing, either faid or written, by applying 
 it under fome fimintude or other to fome 
 exprefiions in Scripture. This nicety is 
 both vain and endleis. But I call God to 
 witnefs, that, rather than one tittle (hould 
 remain among all my writings, which, ac- 
 cording to my ieverell judgement, mould 
 be found guilty of the crime objected, I 
 H 2 would
 
 loo PREFACE TO THE 
 
 would myfelf burn and extinguifli them all 
 together. Nothing is fo deteftably lewd 
 and wretchlefs as the derifion of things 
 facred j and would be in me more unpar- 
 donable than any man elfe, who have en- 
 deavoured to root out the ordinary weeds 
 of poetry, and to plant it almoft wholly 
 with divinity. I am fo far from allow- 
 ing any loofe or irreverent expreflions, in 
 matters of that religion which I believe, 
 that I am very tender in this point, even 
 for the grofieft errors of confcientious per- 
 fons ; they are the propereft object (me- 
 thinks) both of our pity and charity too ; 
 they are the innocent and white iectaries, 
 in comparifon of another kind, who en- 
 graft pride upon ignorance, tyranny upon 
 liberty, and upon all their herefies, treafon 
 and rebellion. Thefe are principles fo 
 deftructive to the peace and fociety of 
 mankind, that they deferve to be purfued 
 by our ferious hatred ; and the putting a 
 mafk of fandity upon fuch devils, is fo 
 ridiculous, that it ought to be expofed to 
 
 contempt
 
 CUTTER OF COLEMAN- STREET. 101 
 
 contempt and laughter. They are indeed 
 prophane, who counterfeit the foftnefs of 
 the voice of holinefs, to difguife the rough- 
 ncfs of the hands of impiety j and not 
 they, who, with reverence to the thing 
 which others difiemble, deride nothing but 
 their diflimulation. If fome piece of an 
 admirable artift mould be ill copied, even 
 to ridiculoufnefs, by an ignorant hand; and 
 another painter mould undertake to draw 
 that copy, and make it yet more ridicu- 
 lous, to mew apparently the difference of 
 the two works, and deformity of the latter j 
 will not every man fee plainly, that the 
 abufe is intended to the foolifh imitation, 
 and not to the excellent original ? I might 
 fay much more, to confute and confound 
 this very falfe and malicious accufation ; 
 but this is enough, I hope, to clear the mat- 
 ter, and is, I am afraid, too much for a pre- 
 face to a work of fo little confideration. 
 
 As for all other objections, which have 
 
 .been, or may be madeagainit the invention 
 
 or
 
 102 PREFACE TO THE 
 
 or elocution, or any thing elfe which comes 
 under the critical jurisdiction ; let it Hand 
 or fall as it can anfwer for iticlf, for I do 
 not lay the great flrefs of my reputation 
 upon a ftructure of this nature, much lefs 
 upon the flight reparations only of an old 
 and unfalhionable building. There is no 
 writer but may fail fometimes in point of 
 wit j and it is no lefs frequent for the au- 
 ditors to fail in point of judgement. I 
 perceive plainly, by daily experience, that 
 Fortune is miftrefs of the theatre, as TUL- 
 j,y fays it is of all popular aflemblies. No 
 man can tell fometimes from whence the 
 jnvifible winds rife that move them. There 
 are a multitude of people, who are truly 
 and only fpectators at a play, without any 
 life of their underftanding; and thefe carry 
 it fometimes by the ftrength of their num- 
 bers. There are others, who uie their un- 
 derftandings too much ; who think it a 
 fign of weaknefs and itupidity, to let any 
 thing pafs by them unattacked, and that 
 the honour of their judgements (as fome 
 
 brvtals
 
 CUTTER OF COLEMAN-STREET. 103 
 
 brutals imagine of their courage) confifts 
 in quarrelling with every thing. We are 
 therefore wonderful wife men, and have 
 a fine bufinefs of it, we, who fpend our 
 time in poetry: I dofometimes laugh, and 
 am often angry with myfelf, when I think 
 on it ; and if I had a fon inclined by na- 
 ture to the fame folly, I believe I mould 
 bind him from it, by the drifted conjura- 
 tions of a paternal blefling. For what can 
 be more ridiculous, than to labour to 
 give men delight, whilft they labour, on 
 their part, more earneftly, to take offence ? 
 To expofe one's felf voluntarily and frank- 
 ly to all the dangers of that narrow paflage 
 to unprofitable fame, which is defended 
 by rude multitudes of the ignorant, and 
 by armed troops of the malicious ? If we 
 do ill, many difcover it, and all defpile 
 us ; if we do well, but few men find it 
 out, and fewer entertain it kindly. If we 
 commit errors, there is no pardon ; if we 
 could do wonders, there would be but 
 little thanks, and that too extorted from 
 unwilling givers. 
 
 H 4 BUT
 
 104 PREFACE T O THE 
 
 BUT fome perhaps may fay, Was it 
 not always thus ? do you expert a par- 
 ticular privilege, that was never yet en- 
 joyed by any poet ? were the ancient 
 Grecian, or noble Roman authors, was 
 VIRGIL himfelf, exempt from this pof- 
 fibility, 
 
 Qui meliormultis, quam tu, fuit, improbe, 
 rebus [*]'; 
 
 who was, in many things, thy better far, 
 thou impudent pretender ; as was faid by 
 LUCRETIUS to a perfon, who took it ill 
 that he was to die, though he had feen fo 
 many do it before him, who better deferved 
 immortality: and this is to repine at the na- 
 tural condition of a living poet, as he did 
 at that of a living mortal. I do not only 
 acknowledge the pre-eminence of VIRGIL 
 (whofe footfteps I adore), but fubtnjt to 
 many of his Roman brethren ; and I con- 
 fefs, that even they in their own times, 
 We not fo fecyre from the aflaults of de- 
 
 [x] Lucr. iii. 1039, 
 
 traction,
 
 CUTTER OF COLEMAN-STREET. 105 
 
 traction (though HORACE brags at laft, 
 Jam dente minus mordeor invido [y J; 
 
 but then the barkings of a few were drown- 
 ed in the applaufe of all the reft of the 
 world, and the poifon of their bitings ex- 
 tinguifhed by the antidote of great rewards 
 and great encouragements, which is a way 
 of curing now out of ufe ; and I really 
 profefs, that I neither expect, nor think I 
 deferve it. Indolency would ferve my turn 
 inftead of pleafure : but the cafe is not fo 
 well j for, though I comfort myfelf with 
 fome afiurance of the favour and affection 
 of very many candid and good-natured 
 (and yet too judicious and even critical) 
 perfons ; yet this I do affirm, that from 
 all which I have written I never received 
 the lead benefit, or the lead advantage, 
 but, on the contrary, have felt fometimes 
 the effects of malice and misfortune. 
 
 [j] 4.Carm. iii. 16. 
 
 POEMS
 
 POEMS 
 
 O F 
 
 MR. A. C O W L E Y, 
 
 I. 
 
 THE MOTTO. 
 
 Tentanda via eft, &c. VIRG. 
 
 HAT fhall I do to be for ever known, 
 And make the age to come my own ? 
 |>] * * * * 
 Hence all the flattering vanities, that lay 
 
 Nets of rofes in the way. 
 Hence the defire of honours, or eftate ; 
 
 And all that is not above fate. 
 Hence love himfelf, that tyrant of my days, 
 Which intercepts my coming praife. 
 
 [a] Some lines of the original are left out. 
 
 Come,
 
 io8 P O E M S O F 
 
 Come, my beft friends, my books, and lead me on j 
 
 'Tis time that I were gone. 
 Welcome, great Stagirite, and teach me now 
 
 All I was born to know. 
 Thy fcholar's vi&'ries thou dofl far out-do i 
 
 He conquer'd th' earth ; the whole world, you[ J. 
 'Welcome, learn'dCicero,whofe bleft tongue and wit 
 
 Preferves Rome's greatnefs yet. 
 Thou art the firft of orators ; only he, 
 
 Who beft can praiie thee, next muft be [c]. 
 Welcome the Mantuan fwan, Virgil the wife, 
 
 Whofe verfe walks highcft, but not flies [yj. 
 
 [/5] He conquer 1 dttf earth \ the whole world, you ] Earth , 
 means this habitable globe ; world, the fyftem of uni- 
 verfal nature. But the compliment is not a little ex- 
 travagant ! like that of Mr. Pope to Newton 
 
 " God faid, Let Newton be, and all was light'* 
 -for which the Poet is very juftly reprehended by hi s 
 learned Commentator. 
 
 |>] _ c ^ fc, 
 
 Who beft can pr ai.fe thee, nextmuft be.~\ i. e. he muft be only 
 next; for none but Cicero hitnfelf was equal to the fub- 
 jeft. The poet glances at what Livy faid of the great 
 Roman orator " vir magnus, acer, memorabilis, et in 
 '* cujus }aude: fequendas Cicerone laiidatore opusfuerit" A 
 fragment, preferved by the elder Seneca. 
 
 [V] Whofe verfe <vaalkf highejt, but noffies.]l.'e. which 
 keeps within the limits of nature, and is fublime without 
 
 Who
 
 MR. A. COWL EY. 109 
 
 Who brought green poefy to her perfect age j 
 
 And made that art, which was a rage. 
 Tell me, ye mighty three, what mail I do 
 
 To be like one of you. 
 But ye have climb 'd the mountain's top, there fit 
 
 On the calm flourifhing head of it, 
 And, whilft with wearied fteps we upward go, 
 
 See us, and clouds below. 
 
 II. 
 
 D E. 
 
 ON WIT. 
 
 'T 1 ELL me, Otell, what kind of thing is wit, 
 Thou, who mafter art of it. 
 
 being extravagant. Virgil's epic Mufe is here juftly 
 charafterized : the Lyric, is a fwan of another fpeci* 1 ., 
 of which the poet fays nobly, elfewhere 
 
 Lo, how th 1 obfequious wind and fwcllingair 
 
 *' The Theban fwan does upwards bear 
 " Into the walks of clouds, where he does play, 
 " And with extended wings opens his liquid way." 
 
 Pindaric Odes, fhepraije of Pindar. 
 I For
 
 no POEMS OF 
 
 For the firft matter love& variety lefs j 
 Lefs women love't, either in love or drefs [i\ t 
 A thoufand different fhapes it bears, 
 Comely in thoufand ftiapes appears. 
 Yonder we faw it plain ; and here 'tis now, 
 Like fpirits in a place, we know not how. 
 
 London, that vents of falfe ware fo much ftore, 
 
 In no ware deceives us more. 
 For men, led by the colour and the fhape, 
 Like Zeuxes' birds, fly to the painted grape ; 
 
 Some things do through our judgement pafs. 
 
 As through a multiplying glafs. 
 And fometimes if the object be too far, 
 We take a falling meteor for a ftar. 
 
 3- 
 
 Hence 'tis, a wit, that greateft word of fame, 
 Grows fuch a common name. 
 
 [e\ We fhould now fay, to avoid the difagreeable 
 contraction, 
 
 " Lefs women love //, or in love, or drefs." 
 But our poet afeffedthek contractions, and, if we may 
 believe the writer of his life, fancied they gave aftrength 
 and energy to his verfe. The truer reafon for his ufe of 
 them was, that he found them in fafhion. 
 
 And
 
 MR. A. COWLEY. 
 
 And wits by our creation they become, 
 Juftfo, as titular bifhops made at Rome. 
 'Tis not a tale, 'tis not a jeft 
 Admir'd with laughter at a feaft, 
 Nor florid talk, which can that title gain j 
 The proofs of wit for ever muft remain, 
 
 4- 
 'Tis not to force fome lifelefs verfes meet 
 
 With their five gouty feet. 
 All every where, like man's, muft be the foul, 
 And reafon the inferior powers controul. 
 
 Such were the numbers, which could -aU 
 The ftones into the Theban wall. 
 Such miracles are ceas'd ; and now we fee 
 No towns or houfes [/] rais'd by poetry. 
 
 5- 
 
 Yet, 'tis not toadorn~~and gild each part; 
 
 That mows more coft, than art. 
 Jewels at nofe and lips but ill appear ; 
 Rather, than all things, wit, let none be there. 
 
 Several lights will not be feen, 
 
 If there be nothing elfe between. 
 
 [/] Houfes'} Here ufed in the double fenfe of&ai/es, 
 properly fo called, and of 'families, 
 
 i Men
 
 m P O E M S O F 
 
 Men doubt, becaufe they ftand fo thick i'th' fay, 
 If thofe beftars, wfiich paint the galaxy [^j. 
 
 6. 
 
 'Tis not, when two like words make up one noife j 
 Jefts for Dutch men, and Englifh boys. 
 
 In which who finds out wit, the fame may fee 
 
 In anagrams and acroftics, poetry. 
 
 Much lefs can that have any place 
 At which a virgin hides her face ; 
 
 Such drofs the fire muft purge away ; 'tis jufr., 
 
 The author blufli there, where the reader muft. 
 
 7- 
 
 *Tis not fuch lines as almoft crack the ftage^ 
 When Bajazet begins to rage. 
 
 [ 1 This idea has been borrowed by Mr. Addilbn, 
 and applied, with much elegance, to our poet hi mfelf. 
 For, fpeaking of Mr. Cowley's wit, he fays 
 
 * One glitt'ring thought no fooner ftrikes our eye* 
 ' With filent wonder, but new wonders rife : 
 
 ' As in the milky way a fliining white 
 
 4 O'erflows the heav'ns with one continued light ; 
 
 * That not a fingle ftar can mew his rays, 
 
 4 Whilil jointly all promote the common blaze." 
 
 of Engli.jh poets, to Mr. H. 5 r . 
 Nor
 
 MR, A. COWLEY. 113 
 
 Nor a tall metaphor in the bombaft way, 
 Nor the dry chips of fhort-lung'd Seneca [j. 
 
 Nor upon all things to obtrude 
 
 And force ibme odd fimilitude. 
 What is it then, which, like the power divine, 
 We only can by negatives define r [z] 
 
 J&d&&^^ 
 
 ( ' t ^**^ 
 
 On the Death of Mr. J o R D A tf , 
 Second Mafter at Wefhninfter-School. 
 
 T T ERE lies the mafter of my tender years, 
 
 The guardian of my parent's [/-] hope and fears> 
 
 [A] JhsrtJungd Seneca.] Meaning his /hart fen- 
 tences, as if he had not breath enough to ferve him for 
 longer anbelanti fimilis Yet, in another fenfe, he is, 
 perhaps, the msft. long-winded author of antiquity. For, 
 as Mr. Bayle has well obferved, " II n'y a guere d'ecri- 
 " vain dont le verbiage foit pJus grand quccelui de Se- 
 " neque : Cicero mettroit dans une periode de fix li- 
 *' gnesce que Seneque dit dans fix periodes q^ui tien* 
 " nenthuitou neuf lignes." Lettres, t. ii.-B.^o. 
 
 [/'] The two concluding ftanzas of this ode areomitted. 
 
 [/f] my parents} That is of his mother's, under whofe 
 difcipline he was bred ; for he was born (Dr. Sprat tells 
 us) after his father's death. 
 
 VOL. I, I Whofe\
 
 H 4 P O E M S O P 
 
 Whofe government ne'er flood me in a tear j 
 
 All weeping was referv'd to fpend it here. 
 
 He pluck'd from youth the follies and the crimes 
 
 And built up men againft the future times j 
 
 For deeds of age are in their caufes then, 
 
 And though he taught but boys, he made the men. 
 
 Hence 'twas, a matter, in thofe ancient days 
 
 Whenmen fought knowledge firft,and by it praife, 
 
 Was a thing full of reverence, profit, fame j 
 
 Father itfelf was but a fecond name. 
 
 And if aMufe hereafter fmile on me, 
 
 And fay, " Be thou a poet," men fhall fee 
 
 That none could a more grateful fcholar have ; 
 
 For what I ow'd his life, I'll pay his grave [/]. 
 
 IV. 
 On the Death of Mr. WILLIAM HERVEY [*]. 
 
 " Immodicis brevis eft ajtas, & rara fenedlus." 
 
 MART. L. VI. Ep. xxix. 
 
 I. 
 
 I T was a difmal, and a fearful night, 
 Scarce could the morn drive on th'umvilling light, 
 
 [7] The reft of this poem (one of tht>fe which were 
 
 written, as he fays, 'when he -was iiery young) is fuppre/Ted. 
 
 \ni\ Mr. William hervey.'] The author's beloved 
 
 I When
 
 Mft. A/ CO WLE Y, \i 
 
 When fleep, death's image, left my troubled breaft, 
 By fomething, liker death, potted. 
 
 My eyes with tears did uncommanded flow, 
 And on my foul hung the dull weight 
 Of fome intolerable fate. 
 
 What bell was that ? Ah me ! too much I know. 
 
 2. 
 
 My fweet companion, and my gentle peer, 
 Why haft thou left me thus unkindly here, 
 Thy end for ever, and my life to moan ; 
 
 O thou haft left me all alone ! 
 Thy foul and body, when death's agony 
 Befieg'd, around, thy noble heart, 
 Did not with more reluctance part, 
 Than I, my deareft friend, do part from thee, 
 
 3- 
 
 My deareft friend, would I had dyM for thee [] t 
 Life and this world henceforth will tedious be. 
 
 fri<*nd This poem came from the heart, and is there- 
 fore m re natural and pleanng than moft others in the 
 collection. Unluckily, it occafioned the poet's intro- 
 duttion to Lord St. Albans [fee Life, p. 8] ; that is, 
 it ruined his fortune. 
 
 [*] would 1 bad dfdfor thee /] From * Sam. xviii . 
 
 33- 
 
 I 2 Nor
 
 n6 P O E M S O P 
 
 Nor fhall I know hereafter what to do, 
 If once rny griefs prove tedious too. 
 
 Silent and fad I walk about all day, 
 
 As fallen ghofts ftalk fpeechlefs by, 
 Where their hid treafures lye : 
 
 Alas, my treafure'sgonej why do I flay ? 
 
 4- 
 
 He was my friend, the trueft friend on earth ; 
 A ftrong and mighty influence join'd our birth []. 
 Nor did we envy the moft founding name 
 
 By friendfhip giv'n of old to fame. 
 None but his brethren he, and fifters knew, 
 
 Whom the kind youth preferr'd to me : 
 
 And ev'n in that we did agree ; 
 For much above myfelf I lov'd them, too. 
 
 5- 
 
 Say, for you faw us, ye immortal lights, 
 How oft unwearied have we fpent the nights j 
 Till the Ledaean ftars, fo fam'd for love, 
 W'onder'd at us from above ! 
 
 [0] -j oin V our lirtb. ] In this and the following 
 ftanza the poet has copied Perfius, Sat, v. ; but with 
 freedom and fpirit. 
 
 We
 
 MR. A. COWLE?. 117 
 
 We fpent them not in toys, in lufts, or wine ; 
 But fearch of deep philofophy, 
 Wit, eloquence, and poetry, . 
 
 Arts which I lov'd, for they, my friend, were thine. 
 
 6. 
 
 Ye fields of Cambridge, our dear Cambridge, fay, 
 
 Have you not feen us walking every day ? 
 
 Was there a tree about, which did not know 
 The love betwixt us two ? 
 
 Henceforth, ye gentle trees, forever fade; 
 Or your fad branches thicker join, 
 And into darklbme fhades combine, 
 
 Dark, as the grave, wherein my friend is laid. 
 
 Henceforth, no learned youths beneath you fmg, 
 Till all the tuneful birds to'your boughs they bring : 
 No tuneful birds play with their wonted chear, 
 
 And call the learned youths to hear ; 
 No whittling winds through the glad branches fly; 
 
 But all with fad folemnity, 
 
 Mute and unmoved be, 
 Mute as the grave, wherein my friend does lye. 
 
 I 3 8. To
 
 .i8l POEMS OP 
 
 8. 
 
 To him my Mufe made hafle with every ftrain, 
 Whilft it was new, and warm yet from the brain. 
 Helov'd myworthlefsrhimes,andlikeafriend(J5j, 
 
 Would find out foraething to commend. 
 Hence now, my Mufe, thou canft not me delight; 
 
 Be this my lateft verfe 
 
 With which I now adorn his hearfe ; 
 And this my grief, without thy help,fliall write* 
 
 Had I a wreath of bays about my brow, 
 
 I ftiould contemn that flourifhing honour now$ 
 
 Condemn it to the fire, and joy to hear 
 
 It rage and crackle there. 
 Jnftead of bays, crown with fad cyprefs me ; 
 Cyprefs, which tombs does beautify : 
 Not Phoebus griev'd fo much as I, 
 For him, who firft was made that mournful tree, 
 
 [/] like a friend] 
 
 --- " each finding, like a friend, 
 ' Something to blame, and fomething to commend." 
 Pope, to Mr. Jervas, 
 10. Large
 
 MR. A. COWLEY. 119 
 
 10. 
 
 Large was his foul [^] ; as large a foul, as e'er 
 
 Submitted to inform a body here. 
 
 High as the place 'twas fhortly in heav'n to have, 
 
 But low, and humble as his grave : 
 So high,' that all the virtues there did come 
 
 As to their chiefeft feat 
 
 Confpicuous, and great ; 
 So low, that for me too it made a room. 
 
 n. 
 
 He fcorn'd this bufy world below, and all 
 That we, miftalcen mortals, pleafure call ; 
 Was fill'd with innocent gallantry and truth, 
 
 Triumphant o'er the fins of youth. 
 He, like the ftars, to which he now is gone, ; 
 
 That mine with beams like flame, 
 
 Yet burn not with the fame, 
 Had all the light of youth, of the fire none. 
 
 12. 
 
 Knowledge he only fought, and fo foon caught, 
 As if for him knowledge had rather fought. 
 
 [q~\ Mr. Gray feems to have had his eye on this line 
 when he wrote that verie, in his Epitaph 
 
 " Large was his bounty, and hisjw fmcere." 
 
 I 4 Nor
 
 uo P O E M S O F 
 
 Nor did more learning ever crowded lie 
 
 In fuch a fhort mortality. 
 Whene'er the fldlful youth difcours'd or writ, 
 
 Still did the notions throng 
 
 About his eloquent tongue, 
 Nor could his ink flow fafter than his wit. 
 
 So ftrong a wit did nature to him frame, 
 As all things, but his judgement, overcame; 
 His judgement like the heav'nly moon did fhow, 
 
 Temp'ring that mighty fea below. 
 Oh, had he liv'd in learning's world, what bound 
 
 Would have been able to controul 
 /r 5 "- His over-powering foul ? 
 | We've loft in him arts, that not yet are found[rj, 
 
 His mirth was the pure fpirits of various wit, 
 Yet never did his God or friends forget. 
 And, when deep talk aqd wifdom came in view, 
 Retir'd, and gave to them their due : 
 
 [r] arts that not yet are found .] 
 <* And worlds applaud, that muft not yet be found.'* 
 Pope, Efl*. on Crit, Ver. 194. 
 For
 
 , MR, A. COWL EY. 
 
 For the rich help of books he always took, 
 Though his own fearching mine! before 
 Was fo with notions written o'er, 
 
 As. if wife nature had made that her book. 
 
 So many virtues join'd in him, as we 
 
 Can fcarce pick here and there in hiftory. 
 
 More than old writers' practice e'er could reach 
 As much as they could ever teach : 
 
 Thefedid religion, queen of virtue, fway 
 And all their, facred motions fteer, 
 Juft like the firft and higheft fphere, 
 
 \Vhichwheels about, and turns all heav'noneway, 
 
 1 6. 
 
 With as much zeal, devotion, piety, 
 
 He always liv'd, as other faints do die. 
 
 Still with his foul fcvere account he kept, 
 Weeping all debts out, ere he flept. 
 
 Then down in peace and innocence he lay, 
 Like the fun's laborious light, ' 
 Which ftill in water fets at night, 
 
 Unfullied with his journey of the day. 
 
 17. Won-
 
 O E M S O V 
 
 Wondrousyoungman,whywert thou made fogoo.1, 
 
 To be fnatcht hence, ere better underftood ? 
 
 Snatcht, before half of thee enough was feen ! 
 Thou, ripe ; and yet thy life, but green ! 
 
 Nor could thy friends take their laft fad farewei j 
 But danger and infectious death 
 Malicioufly feiz'd on that breath, 
 
 Where life, fpirit, pleafure, always us'd to dwell. 
 
 18. 
 
 But happy thou, ta'en from this frantic age, 
 
 Where ignorance and hypocrify does rage ! 
 
 ,\ fitter time for heav'n no foul e'er chofe, 
 The place now only free from thofe. 
 
 There 'mong the blcft thou doft for ever fliine, 
 And whcrefoe'er thou cafts thy view 
 Upon that white and radiant crew, 
 
 See'it not a foul cloath'd with more light than thine. 
 
 19. 
 
 And, if the glorious faints ceafe not to know 
 Their wretched friends, who fight with life below j 
 Thv flame to me does ftill the fame abjde, 
 Only more pure and rarified. 
 
 There,
 
 MR. A. COWL EY. i:j 
 
 There, whilft immortal hymns thou doil rehearfe^ 
 
 Thou doft with holy pity fee 
 
 Our dull and earthly poefy, 
 Where grief and mifery can bejoin'd with verfe[j]. 
 
 V. 
 TO THE LORD FALKLAND, 
 
 For his fafe Return from the Northern Expe~ 
 dition againft the SCOTS [/]. 
 
 A^REATisthycharge,ONorth-,bewifeandjuft: 
 England commits her Falkland to thy truft ; 
 
 [j] Where griff and mifery can be joined with verfe. 1 ] 
 Rightly ma,_e the dillindioa otearthljpejy ; for the hea- 
 venly (if we fuppofe poetry to have any place there) can 
 only be employed on them;.:, of jy and happinefs, But 
 the poet had a further meaning in this fine line, to in- 
 finuate the prepofterous levity and vanity of earthly poetst 
 \vho can afford to be ivitty even on their own miferies* 
 This cenfure, falling firft upcn himfelf, has the more 
 grace. 
 
 [/] againJ}tbeScots.~\ In 1639. Confequently the poet 
 was then in his 21 ft year. Bat the chief reafon for 
 giving thefe verfes to the Lord Falkland a place in the 
 prefe'nt collection, is, for the fake ofperpetuating the me- 
 
 Return
 
 124 POEMS OF 
 
 Return him fafe. Learning would rather choofe 
 
 Her Bodley, or her Vatican, to lofe. 
 
 All things, that are but writ or printed there, 
 
 In his unbounded breaft engraven are. 
 
 There all the fciences together meet, 
 
 And every art does all her kindred greet, 
 
 Yet juftle not, nor quarrel ; but as well 
 
 Agree, as in forne common principle, 
 
 So, in an arrriy govern'd right, we fee 
 
 (Though out of feveral countries rais'd it be) 
 
 That all their order and their place maintain, 
 
 The Englifh,Dutch, the Frenchmen, and theDane, 
 
 Sotboufand diverfe fpecies fill the air, 
 
 Yet neither croud nor mix confus'dly there; 
 
 Beafts, houfes, 'trees', and men together lye, 
 
 Yet enter undifturb'xl into the eye, 
 
 mory of the author's entire friend/hip with that virtuous 
 and accomplished nobleman nfriendjhip contrattcd, as 
 Dr. Sprat tells us, by the agreement of their learning and 
 manners, It is remarkable, that we find no compliment 
 addrefTed by Mr. Covvley to the duke of Buckingham, or 
 the earl of St. Aibans. He fuppofec], without doubt, 
 thit he had done honour enough to thofe lords (fome will 
 think, too much) in permitting them to be his patrons : 
 " Enough for half the greateft of thofe days 
 ' To 'fcapc his cenfure, notcxpeft hispraife." 
 
 Pope. 
 And
 
 MR. A. CO WLET. iaj 
 
 And this great prince of knowledge is by fate 
 Thruft into th' noife and bufinefs of a ftate. 
 All virtues, and fome cuftoms [a], of the court, 
 Other mem labour, are at kaft his fport. 
 \Vhilft we, who can no action undertake, 
 Whom idlenefs itfelf might learned make, 
 Who hear of nothing, and as yet fcarce know 
 Whether the Scots in England be or no, 
 Pace dully on, oft tire, and often ftay, 
 Yet fee his nimble Pegafus fly away. 
 'Tis nature's fault, who did thus partial grow, 
 And her eftate of wit on one beftow : 
 Whiltt we, like younger brothers, get at bcft 
 But a fmall ftock, and muft work out the reft. 
 How could he anfwer't, fliould the ftate think fit 
 To queftion a monopoly of wit [w J ? 
 
 [] fame cuftoms] The expreflion is remarkable, 
 and implies that not//the cuftoms of Charles theFlrft's 
 court were fuch as would be approved by a man of virtue. 
 If any are curious to know what thofe cuftoms were, they 
 may have their curiofity in part gratified, by turning 
 to two remarkable letters of Lady Leicefter and Lord 
 Robert Spencer, in the collection of the Sidney papers, 
 vol. ii. p. 472, and p. 66S. 
 
 [Tf] queftion a monopoly ofivit ?~\ As it had done 
 many other monopolies. The alluhon is not fo far 
 fetched as it feems. 
 
 Such 
 I
 
 ;n6 POEMS OF 
 
 Such is the man, whom we require the faffi3 
 We lent the North ; untoucht, as is his fame* 
 He is too good for war, and ought to be 
 As far from danger j as from fear he's free [x]* 
 Thofe men alone (and thofc are ufeful, too) 
 XV hole valour is the only art they know, 
 Were for fad war and bloody battles born ; 
 Let them, the flatc defend, and he adorn. 
 
 #$$3^ 
 
 VI. 
 
 On the Death of Sir ANTHONY VANDIKE, 
 the famous Painter. 
 
 \7ANDIKE is dead; but what bold Mufe fhall 
 
 dare 
 (Tho' poets in that word [y] with painters fhare) 
 
 [x] as from fear he's free.] Yet it was, in part, to 
 
 vindicate bimfelf from the imputation of this fear, that he 
 
 always put liimfelf in the way of danger, and in the cnd 
 
 threw away his valuable life at the battle of Newbury. 
 
 r^,j intbat'vuord\ Namely, dafe\ alluding toHorace, 
 
 " pi&oribus atque poetis 
 audendi femper fuit aequa poteitas." 
 
 A. P. ver. j \ t 
 
 T'ex-
 
 MR. A. COWL EV. '127 
 
 ' T'exprefs her fadnefs ? Poefy muft become 
 An art like painting here, an art, that's dumb. 
 Let's all our folemn grief in filence keep, 
 Like fome fad picture, which he made to weep, 
 Or thofe who faw't ; for none his works could view 
 Unmov'd with the fame paffions which he drew. 
 His pieces fo with their live objects ftrive, 
 That both, or pictures feem, or both alive. 
 Nature herfelf, amaz'd, does doubting {land, 
 Which is her own, and which the painter's handj 
 And does attempt the like with lefs fuccefs, 
 When her own work in twins fhe would exprefs. 
 His all-refembling pencil did out-pafs 
 The mimic imagery of looking-glafs. 
 
 1 Nor was his life lefs perfect, than his art : 
 Nor was his hand lefs erring than his heart [zj. 
 There was no falfe or fading colour there ; 
 The figures fweet and well-proportion' d were. 
 V;<jft other men, fet next to him in view, 
 Appeared more fhadows than the men he dre\v. 
 Thus ilill he liv'd, till heaven did for him call, 
 Where reverend Luke falutes him firft of all : 
 
 [a] than his heart.} A r.obk eulogy of this ex- 
 traordinary man ! aad, if report fays true, a very juil 
 one. 
 
 W here
 
 .123 POEMS Of 
 
 .Where he beholds new fights, divinely Fair j 
 And could almoft vvilh for his pencil there j 
 Did he not gladly fee how all things fhine. 
 Wondroufly painted in the mind divine [#], 
 Whilir, he, forever ravifh'd with the fhow, 
 Scorns his own art, which we admire below. 
 
 Only his beauteous lady [] ftill he loves ; 
 (The love of heavenly objects heaven improves) 
 He fees bright angels in pure beams appear 
 And thinks on her he left fo like them here, 
 And you, fair widow, who flay here alive, 
 Since he fo much rejoices, ceafe to grieve. 
 Your joys and griefs were wont the lame to be ; 
 Begin not now, bleft pair, to difagree. 
 No wonder, death mov'd not his generous mind: 
 You, and a new-born you, he left behind. * 
 Even fate exprefs'd his love to his dear wife, 
 And let him end your piclure with his life. 
 
 [V] ia the mind divine, *\ A platonlc idea, which 
 IVIalbranehe and our Norris have rendered fb famous. 
 
 [] his beauteous lady\ A lady, of dillinguifhed 
 quality, as well as beauty, daughter to the Lord Ru- 
 Earl of Gowry. 
 
 VII. T*
 
 MR. A. CO WLE Y. 129 
 
 VII. 
 To Sir WILLIAM DAVENANT: 
 
 Upon his Two Firft Books ofGoNDiBERT, 
 finifhed before his Voyage to America. 
 
 RETHINKS, heroic poefy, till now, 
 
 Like fome fantaftic fairy-land, did fhow; 
 Gods, devils, nymphs, witches, and gyants race, 
 And all, but man, in man's chief work had place. 
 Thou, like fome worthy knight, with facredarms 
 Doft drive the monfters thence, and end the charms ; 
 Inftead of thefe, doft men and manners plant, 
 The things, which that rich foil did chiefly want. 
 Yet even thy mortals do their gods exccll, 
 Taught by thy Mufe to fight and love fo well. 
 
 By fatal hands whilft prefent empires fall, 
 Thine from the grave paft monarchies recall. 
 So much more thanks from human kind does merit 
 The poet's fury, than the zealot's fpirit. 
 And from the grave thou mak'ft this empire rife, 
 Not, like fome dreadful ghoft, t'affright our eyes, 
 But with more luftre and triumphant ftate, 
 Than when it crown'd at proud Verona fate. 
 
 VOL. I. K So
 
 130 P O E M S O F 
 
 So will our God rebuild man's perifli'd frame, 
 And raife him up much better, yet the fame [f] : 
 So god-like poets do paft things rehearfe ; 
 Not change, but heighten, nature by their verfe. 
 
 With fhame, methinks, great Italy muft fee 
 Her conquerors rais'd to life again by thee. 
 Rais'd by fuch powerful verfe, that ancient Rome 
 May blufh no lefs to fee her wit o'ercome. 
 Somemen their fancies, like their faith, derive [</]; 
 And think all ill but that, which Rome does give. 
 The marks of old and catholic would find, 
 To the fame chair would truth and fiction bind. 
 Thou in thofe beaten paths difdain'ft to tread, 
 And fcorn'ft to live by robbing of the dead. 
 
 [c] So twill -yet the fame."] It is pleafant to fee how 
 the wits catch their ideas from each other. Mr. Pope, 
 in a letter of compliment to a friend, who had done 
 much honour to his EJJay on Man, exprefles himfelf in 
 thefe words " It is indeed the fame fyftem as mine, 
 " but illuftrated with a ray of your own ; as they fay 
 " our natural body is the fame Jtill, 'when it is glorified.* 
 Works, vol. ix. Letter xcvii. 
 
 [</] Sorpt men their fancies^ like their faith, derive^ 
 
 "Thus wit, like faith, by each man is apply'd 
 ''To one fmall fed ; and all are damn'd befide." 
 Eflay on Crit. ver. 396. 
 
 2 Since
 
 MR. A. COWLEY. 131 
 
 Since timedoes all things change,thouthink'ftnot fit 
 This latter age fhould fee all new, but wit. 
 Thy fancy, like a flame, its way does make, 
 And leave bright tracks for following pens to take. 
 Sure 'twas this noble boldnefs of the Mufe 
 Did thy defire to feek new worlds [e] infufe.; 
 And ne'er did heav'n fo much a voyage blefs, 
 If thou canft plant but there, with like fuccefs. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 On the Death of Mr. C R A s H A w. 
 
 T> O E T and Saint ! to thee alone are given 
 
 The twomoft facred names of earth and heaven 5 
 The hard and rareft union, which can be, 
 Next that of Godhead with humanity. 
 Long did the Mufes banifh'd flaves abide, 
 And built vain pyramids to mortal pride ; 
 
 [t] xtnu worlds] This alludes to Sir William's pro- 
 jeft of a fettlement at Virginia ; which, however, had 
 no better fuccefs than the poetical project, which his 
 friend here celebrates. 
 
 K * Like
 
 132 P O E M S O F 
 
 Like Mofes thou (though fpells and charms with- 
 
 ftand) 
 Haft brought them nobly home back to their Holy 
 
 Land. 
 
 Ah wretched we, poets of earth ! but thou 
 Wert, living, the fame poet, which thou'rt now- 
 Whilft angels fmg to thee their airs divine, 
 And joy m an applaufe fo great as thine ; 
 Egual fociety with them to hold, 
 /Thou need'ft not make newfongs, but fay the old. 
 And they (kindfpirits !) fhall all rejoice to fee 
 How little lefs than they, exalted man may be. 
 Still the old heathen gods in numbers dwell, 
 The heavenlieft thing on earth ftill keeps up hell. 
 Nor have we yet quite purg'd the Chriftian land ; 
 Still idols here, like calves at Bethel, ftand. 
 And though Pan's death [y] long fince all oracles 
 
 broke, 
 Yet ftill in rhyme the fiend Apollo fpoke : 
 
 [/] Pan's death} Alluding to the famous ftory in 
 Plutarch's Dialogue concerning the felence of the pagan 
 oracles, and the ufe made of that ftory by Eufebius and 
 others ; whence it became the general opinion of the 
 learned, in our author's day.s, that, by the death of 
 the GREAT PAN, was meant the crucifixion of our 
 Saviour. 
 
 Nay
 
 MR. A. COWLEY. 133 
 
 Nay with the worft of heathen dotage we 
 (Vain men !) the monfter woman deify ; 
 Find ftars, and tie our fates there, in a face, 
 And Paradife in them, by whom we loft it, place. 
 What different faults corrupt our Mufes thus ! 
 Wanton as girls ; as old wives, fabulous ! 
 
 Thy fpotlefs Mufe, like Mary, did contain 
 The boundlefs Godhead ; {he did well difdain 
 That her eternal verfe employ'd fhould be 
 On a lefs fubjeft than eternity ; 
 And for a facred miftrefs fcorn'd to take, 
 But her, whom God himfelf fcorn'd not his fpoufe 
 
 to make. 
 
 It (in a kind) her miracle did do; 
 A fruitful mother was, and virgin too. 
 
 How well (bleft fwan) did fate contrive thy 
 
 death fc] 5 
 
 And made thee render up thy tuneful breath 
 In thy great miftrefs' arms ! thou moft divine 
 And richeft offering of Loretto's flirine ! 
 Where, like fome holy facrifice, t'expire, 
 A feyer burns thee, and love lights the fire. 
 Angels (they fay) brought the fam'd chapel there, 
 And bore the facred load in triumph through the 
 air. 
 
 [g] Mr. Crafhaw died of a fever at Loretto, being 
 newly chofen canon of that church. COWLEY.
 
 *54 P O E M S O .F 
 
 'Tisfurermuch, they brought thee there; and they, 
 And thou, their charge, went finging all the way. 
 
 Pardon, my mother church, if I confent 
 That angels led him, when from thee he went ; 
 For even in error fure no danger is, 
 When join'd with fo much piety as his. 
 Ah, mighty God, with fhame I fpeak't, and grief, 
 Ah that our greateft faults were in belief ! 
 And our weak reafon were ev'n weaker yet, 
 Rather than thus our wills too ftrong for it ! 
 His faith, perhaps, in fome nice tenets might 
 Be wrong ; his life, I'm fure, was in the right [/&]. 
 And I myfelf a catholic will be, 
 So far at leaft, great faint, to pray to thee. 
 
 Hail, bard triumphant [/'] ! and fome care beftow 
 On us, the poets militant below ! 
 
 [] Hence the famous lines of Mr. Pope, which 
 have given fuch fcandal to fome, and triumph to others, 
 only becaufe both parties have been more in hafte to 
 apply than underftand them 
 
 " For modes of faith let gracelefs zealots fight, 
 " His can't be wrong, whofelife is in the right." 
 [/] Hail, bard triumphant /] Hence the apoffoopheof 
 Mr. Pope, but not fo happily applied, as here 
 
 " Hail, bards triumphant, born in happier days !' 
 EfTay on Crit. ver. 189. 
 
 Oppos'cf
 
 MR. A. COWL EY. 135 
 
 Oppos'd by our old enemy, adverfe chance, 
 Attack'd by envy, and by ignorance, 
 Enchain'd by beauty, tortur'd by defires, 
 Expos'd by tyrant-love to favage beafts and fires [] . 
 Thou from low earth in nobler flames didft rife, 
 And, like Elijah, mount alive thefltjes. 
 Elifha-like (but with awifh much lefs, 
 More fit thy greatnefs, and my littlenefs) 
 Lo here I beg (I whom thou once didft prove 
 So humble to efteem, fo good to love) 
 Not that thy fpirit might on me doubled be, 
 I afk but half thy mighty fpirit for me. 
 And, when my Mufe foars with fo ftronga wing, 
 'Twill learn of things divine, and firft of thee, to 
 fing. 
 
 IX. 
 Imitation of MARTIAL [/], Lib. V. Ep. xxi. 
 
 ' S I tecum mihi, care Martialis, 
 Securis liceat frui diebus ; 
 
 [] Expos'd by tyrant-love to/avage beafts and fret.} 
 As the primitive Chriilians were, by the tyrant-bate of 
 their pagan perfecutors. ANON. 
 
 [/] Ed. Maittaire, Lond. 1716. 
 
 K 4 "Si
 
 '136 POEMS OF 
 
 " Si difponere tempus otiofum, 
 " Et verae pariter vacare vitae : 
 " Nee nos atria, nee domos potentum, 
 * e Nee lites tetricas, forumque trifte 
 <e Noflemus, ncc imagines fuperbas : 
 " Sed geftatio, fabula?, libelli, 
 " Campus, porticus, umbra, virgo, thermae ; 
 <c Haec eflent loca Temper, hi labores. 
 *' Nunc vivit fibi neuter, heu, bonofque 
 <c Soles eft'ugere, atque abire fentit j 
 " Qui nobis pereunt, & imputantur. 
 ^-\ << Quifquam vivere cum fciat, moratur?" 
 
 T F, deareft friend, it my good fate might be 
 
 T' enjoy at once a quiet life and thee ; 
 If we for happinefs could leifure find [m], 
 And wandering time into a method bind j 
 We fhould not fure the great man's favour need, 
 Nor on long hopes, the court's thin diet, feed. 
 
 [m\ Ifivefor happinefs could leifure find~\ An exquifite 
 line ! of which Mr. Gray felt, and has exprefled, 
 all the pathos, when, in his Hymn to Adverfity, he 
 faid 
 
 ' Scar'd at thy frown terrific, fly 
 
 " Self-pleafing Folly's idle brood, 
 
 ** Wild Laughter, Noife, and thoughtlefs Joy, 
 
 * f And leavt us leifure te be good" ANON, 
 
 We
 
 MR. A. COWLEY. , 37 
 
 We fhould not patience find, daily to hear 
 The calumnies, and flatteries, fpoken there. 
 We fhould not a lord's table humbly ufe, 
 Or talk, in ladies chambers, love and news ; 
 But books and wife difcourfe, gardens and fields, 
 And all the joys that unmix'd nature yields. 
 Thick fummer (hades, where winter ftill does lye ; 
 Bright winter fires, that fummer's part fupply. 
 Sleep, not controll'd by cares, confin'd to night ; 
 Or bound in any rule, but appetite. 
 Free, but not favage or ungracious mirth ; 
 Rich wines, to give it quick and eafy birth. 
 A few companions, which ourfelves fhould chufe, 
 A gentle miftrefs, and a gentler Mufe. 
 Such, deareft friend, fuch, without doubt, fhould 
 
 be 
 
 Our place, our bufinefs, and our company. 
 Now to himfelf, alas, does neither live, 
 But fees good funs, of which we are to give 
 A ftrict account, fet and march thick away : 
 Knows a man how to live, and does he ftay ? 
 
 X. ANA-
 
 138 P O E M S O F 
 
 X. 
 A N A C R E O N T I C S []: 
 
 O R, 
 
 Some Copies of Verfes tranflated Paraphrafti- 
 caily out OANACREON. 
 
 LOVE. 
 
 T'LL fing of heroes, and of kings; 
 In mighty numbers, mighty things. 
 Begin, my Mufe ; but lo, the firings 
 To my great fong rebellious prove ; 
 The firings will found of nought, but love, 
 I broke them all, and put on new ; 
 'Tis this, or nothing fure, will do. 
 Thefe fure (faid I) will me obey ; 
 Thefe fure heroic notes will play. 
 
 [] Thefe Anacreontic fhew, that the author 
 wanted neither eafe of expreffion nor the grace of 
 numbers, when he followed the bent of his own taft e 
 and genius. 
 
 Straight
 
 MR. A. COW LEY. *;* 
 
 Straight I began with thundering Jove,' 
 And all th' immortal pow'rs, but leva. 
 Love fmil'd ; and from my enfeebled lyrs 
 Came gentle airs, fuch as infpire 
 Melting love, and foft defire. 
 Farewel, then, heroes, farewel kings, 
 And mighty numbers, mighty things ; 
 Love tunes my heart juft to my firings. 
 
 n. 
 
 DRINKING. 
 
 THE thirfty earth foaks up the rain, 
 And drinks, and gapes for drink again. 
 The plants fuck in the earth, and are, 
 With conftant drinking, frefh and fair. 
 The fea itfelf, which, one would think, 
 Should have but little need of drink, 
 Drinks ten thoufand rivers up, 
 So fill'd, that they o'erflow the cup. 
 The bufy fun (and one would guefs, 
 By's drunken fiery face, no lefs) 
 Drinks up the fea ; and when he' as done, 
 The moon and ftars drink up the fun. 
 They drink and dance by their own light, 
 They drink and revel all the night. 
 
 Nothing
 
 T44- P O E M S O F 
 
 Nothing in nature's fobei" found, 
 But an eternal health goes round. 
 Fill up the bowl then, fill it high, 
 Fill all the glaffes there : for why 
 Should every creature drink, but I, 
 Why, man of morals, tell me why ? 
 
 in. 
 
 BEAUTY. 
 
 LIBERAL nature did difpenfe 
 To all things arms for their defence j 
 And fome flie arms with finewy force, 
 And fome, with fwiftnefs in the courfe ; 
 Some, with hard hoofs, or forked claws, 
 And fome, with horns, or tufkedjaws; 
 And fome with fcales, and fome with wings, 
 And fome with teeth, and fome with flings, 
 Wifdom to man Ihe did afford, 
 Wifdom for fhield, and wit for fword. 
 What to beauteous woman-kind, 
 What arms, what armour, has me affign'd ? 
 Beauty is both j for with the fair 
 What arms, what armour, can compare ? 
 What fteel, what gold, or diamond, 
 tylore impafiible is found ? 
 
 And.
 
 MR. A. COWL EY. 14.1 
 
 And yet what flame, what lightning, e'er 
 So great an a&ive force did bear ? 
 They are all weapon ; and they dart, 
 Like porcupines, from every part. 
 Who can, alas, their ftrength exprefs, 
 Arm'd, when they themfelves undrefs, 
 Cap-a-pee with nakednefs ? 
 
 THE DUEL. 
 
 Y E S, I will love then, I will love : 
 I will not now love's rebel prove, 
 Though I was once his enemy ; 
 Though, ill-advis'd and ftubborn, I 
 Did to the combat him defy. 
 An helmet, fpear, and mighty fhield, 
 Like fome new Ajax, I did wield. 
 Love in one hand his bow did take, 
 In th' other hand a dart did fhake. 
 But yet in vain the dart did throw, 
 In vain he often drew the bow. 
 So well my armour did refift, 
 So oft by flight the blow I mifs'd. 
 But, when I thought all danger paft, 
 His quiver emptied quite at laft, 
 
 Inftead
 
 14* P O E M S O F 
 
 Inftead of arrow, or of dart, 
 
 He (hot himfelf into my heart. 
 
 The living and the killing arrow 
 
 Ran through the fkin, the flefh, the blood, 
 
 And broke the bones, and fcorch'd the marrow*; 
 
 No trench or work of life withftood. 
 
 In vain I now the walls maintain, 
 
 I fet out guards and fcouts in vain, 
 
 Since th' enemy does within remain. 
 
 In vain a breaft-plate now I wear, 
 
 Since in my breaft the foe I bear. 
 
 In vain my feet their fwiftnefs try ; 
 
 For from the body can they fly ? 
 
 V. 
 
 AGE. 
 
 OFT am I by the women told, 
 Poor Anacreon, thou grow'ft old : 
 Look, how thy hairs are falling all ; 
 Poor Anacreon, how they fall ! 
 Whether I grow old or no, 
 By th' effects I do not know. 
 This I know, without being told, 
 *Tis time to live, if I grow old j
 
 MR. A. COWLEY. 145 
 
 'Tis time (hort pleafures now to take, 
 Of little life the beft to make, 
 And manage wifely the laft ftake. 
 
 VI. 
 
 THE ACCOUNT. 
 
 WHEN all the ftars are by thee told 
 (The endlefs fums of heavenly gold) ; 
 Or, when the hairs are reckon'd all ; 
 From fickly autumn's head that fall, 
 Or, when the drops that make the fea, 
 Whilft all her fands thy counters be j 
 Thou then, and thou alone, may'ft prove 
 Th' arithmetician of my love. 
 An hundred loves at Athens fcore, 
 At Corinth write an hundred more : 
 Fair Corinth does fuch beauties bear, 
 So few is an efcaping there [<?]. 
 Write then at Chios feventy-three j 
 Write then at Lefbos (let me fee) 
 Write me at Lefbos ninety down, 
 full ninety Joves, and half a one. 
 
 [] an efcaping there.'} A ftroke of moral fatire, (lid 
 in, on that city, fo infamous for its brothelry. The poet 
 is fage, even in thefe mad Anacreontics. 
 
 And
 
 144 P O E M S O F 
 
 And next to thefe let me prefent 
 
 The fair Ionian regiment. 
 
 And next the Carian company, 
 
 Five hundred both effectively [p~\- 
 
 Three hundred more at Rhodes and Crete ; 
 
 Three hundred 'tis, I'm fure, complete ; 
 
 For arms at Crete each face does bear, 
 
 And every eye's an archer there. 
 
 Go on ; this ftop why doft thou make ? 
 
 Thou think'ft, perhaps, that I miftake. 
 
 Seems this to thee too great a fum ? 
 
 Why, many thoufands are to come ; 
 
 The mighty Xerxes could not boaft 
 
 Such different nations in his hoft. 
 
 On ; for my love, if thou be'ft weary, 
 
 Muft find fome better fecretary. 
 
 I have not yet my Perfian told, 
 
 Nor yet my Syrian loves enroll'd, 
 
 Nor Indian, nor Arabian ; 
 
 Nor Cyprian loves, nor African ; 
 
 Nor Scythian, nor Italian flames ; 
 
 There's a whole map behind of names : 
 
 Of gentle loves i'th' temperate zone, 
 
 And cold ones in the frigid zone j 
 
 [/] effiflively.'] The term in ufe with military men 
 (and therefore humouroufly affe&ed here) for completely. 
 
 Cold
 
 MR. -A. COWLEY. 
 
 Cold frozen loves, with which I pine, 
 And parched loves, beneath the line; 
 
 VII. 
 
 GOLD. 
 
 A MIGHTY pain to love it is, 
 And 'tis a pain that pain to mifs. 
 But of all pains the greateft pain 
 It is to love, but love in vain. 
 Virtue now, nor noble blood, 
 Nor wit by love is underftood, 
 Gold alone does paflion move, 
 Gold monopolizes love ! 
 A curfe on her, and on the man 
 Who this traffic firft began ! 
 A curfe on him who found the ore! 
 A curfe on him who digg'd the ftore ! 
 A curfe on him who did refine it ! 
 A curfe on him who firft did coin it ! 
 A curfe, all curfes elfe above, 
 On him, who us'd it rlrll in love j 
 Gold begets in brethren hate, 
 Gold, in families debate j 
 Gold, does friendihips feparate, 
 Gold, does civil wars create. 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 P O E 1VT S O 
 
 Thefethe fmalleft harms of iff 
 Gold, alas, does love beget. 
 
 VIII. 
 THE EPIC URE. 
 
 FILL- the bowl with rofy wine y 
 Around our temples rofes twine j 
 And let us chearfully awhile, 
 Like the wine and rofes, fmile. 
 Crown'd with rofes, we contemn' 
 Gyges' wealthy diadem. 
 To-day is our's ; what do we fear ? 
 To-day is our's; we have it here. 
 Let's treat it kindly, that it may 
 Wifti, at leaft, with us to ftay. 
 Let's banifh bufmefs, banifh forrow ; 
 To the gods, belongs to-morrow. 
 
 IX. 
 
 ANOTHER. 
 
 UNDERNEATH this myrtle fhade r 
 On flowery beds fupinely laid, 
 With odorous oils my head o'er-flowing, 
 And around it rofcs growing, 
 
 What
 
 MR. A. COWLEY. 
 
 XVhat fliould I do but drink away 
 The heat and troubles of the day ? 
 In this more than kingly ftate, 
 Love himfelf fhall on me wait. 
 Fill to me, love, nay, fill it up j 
 And mingled caft into the cup, 
 Wit, and mirth, and noble fires* 
 Vigorous health, and gay defires. 
 The wheel or life no lefs will ftay 
 In a fmooth, than rugged way 
 Since it equally does flee, 
 Let the motion pleafant be* 
 \Vhy do we precious ointments fhower^ 
 Nobler wines why do we pour, 
 Beauteous flowers why do we fpread, 
 L T pon the monuments of the dead ? 
 Nothing they but duft can fhow, 
 Or bones, that haften to be fo. 
 Crown me with roles whilft I live, 
 Now your wines and ointments give. 
 After death I nothing crave, 
 Let me alive my pleafures have } 
 All are Stoics in the grave. 
 
 L 2 X. THB
 
 POEMS OF 
 
 THE GRASSHOPPER. 
 
 HAPPY infecT:, what can be, 
 In happinefs, compar'd to thee ? 
 Fed with nourifhment divine, 
 The dewy morning's gentle wine ! 
 Nature waits upon thee ftill, 
 And thy verdant cup does fill^ 
 'Tis fill'd, wherever thou doft tread, 
 Nature's felf's thy Ganyfned. 
 Thou doft drink, and dance, and fmg; 
 Happier, than the happieft king ! 
 All the fields, which thou doft fee, 
 All the plants, belong to thee, 
 All that fummer hours produce, 
 Fertile made with early juice. 
 Man for thee does fow and plow : 
 Farmer he, and landlord thou ! 
 Thou doft innocently joy, 
 Nor does thy luxury deftroy j 
 The fhepherd gladly heareth thee, 
 More harmonious than he. 
 Thee, country hinds with gladnefs hear, 
 Prophet of the ripen'd year ! 
 
 Thee,
 
 MR. A. COWL EY. 149 
 
 Thee, Phoebus loves, and does infpire ; 
 
 Phoebus is himfelf thy fire. 
 
 To thee, of all things upon earth, 
 
 Life is no longer than thy mirth. 
 
 Happy infect, happy thou 
 
 Doft neither age nor winter know. 
 
 But, when thou'ft drunk, and danc 'd, and fu 
 
 Thy fill, the flowery leaves among, 
 
 (Voluptuous, and wife, with all, 
 
 Epicurean animal !) 
 
 Sated with thy fummer feaft, 
 
 Thou retir'ft to endlefs reft. 
 
 xr. 
 
 THE SWALLOW. 
 
 FOOLISH prater, what doft thou 
 So early at my window do, 
 With thy tunelefs ferenade ? 
 Well 't had been, had Tereus made 
 Thee, as dumb, as Philomel ; 
 There his knife had done but well. 
 In thy undifcover'd neft 
 Thou dolt all the winter reft, 
 And dreameft o'er thy fummer joys, 
 Free from the ftormy feafbn's noife ; 
 
 L 3 Free
 
 5* POEMS OF 
 
 Free from th* ill thou'ft done to me ; 
 Who difturbs, or feeks out thee ? 
 Hadft thou all the charming notes 
 Of the wood's poetic throats, 
 All thy art could never pay 
 What thou'ft ta'en from me away : 
 Cruel bird, thou'ft ta'en away 
 A dream out of my arms to-day, 
 A dream, that ne'er muft equal'd be 
 By all that waking eyes may fee, 
 Thou, this damage to repair, 
 Nothing half fo fweet or fair, 
 Nothing half fo good can'ft bring, 
 Though men fay, "Thou bring'Ji thefpring,. 
 
 ELEGY UPON ANACREON, 
 
 who was choaked by a GRAPE-STONE. 
 Spoken by the God of Love, 
 
 HOW (hall I lament thine end, 
 My beft fervant, and my friend ? 
 Nay^ and, if from a deity 
 o much deified as I, 
 
 ft
 
 MR. A. CO WLE Y. ijr 
 
 It found not too profane and odd, 
 
 Oh my mafter, a,nd my god ! 
 
 For 'tis true, moft mighty poet, 
 
 (Though I like not, men fhould know it) 
 
 I am in naked nature lefs, 
 
 Lefs by much, than in thy -drefs.. 
 
 All thy verfe is fofter far 
 
 Than the downy feathers are 
 
 Of my wings, or of my arrows, 
 
 Of my mother's doves, or fparrows* 
 
 Sweet, as lovers frefherr. killes ; 
 
 Or, their riper following blifles ; 
 
 Graceful, cleanly, fmooth, and round, 
 
 All with Venus' girdle bound ; 
 
 And thy life was all the while 
 
 Kind and gentle, as thy ftyle. 
 
 The fmooth-pac'd hours of ey'ry day 
 
 Glided numeroufly away. 
 
 Like thy vcrfe, earn hour did pafs ; 
 
 Sweet and fhort, like that it was. 
 
 Some do but their youth allow me, 
 Juft what they, by nature owe me; 
 The time, that's mine, and not their own, 
 The certain tribute of my crown. 
 When they grow old, they grow to be 
 Too bufy, or too wife, for me. 
 
 L 4 Thou
 
 15 * P O E M S O F 
 
 Thou wert wifer, and didfl know, 
 None too wife for love can grow ; 
 Jjove was with thy life entwin'd 
 Clofe, as heat with fire is join'd, 
 A pov/erful brand prefcrib'd the date 
 Of thine, like Meleager's fate. 
 Th' antiperiftafis [q\ of age 
 More enflam'd thy amorous rage ; 
 Thy filver hairs yielded me more, 
 Than even golden curls, before. 
 Had I the power of creation, 
 As I have of generation, 
 Where I the matter muft obey, 
 And cannot work plate out of clay ; 
 My creatures fliould be all like thec, 
 'Tis thou fhould their idea be. 
 
 [q] Antiperijlajli\ This hard word only means, ccm- 
 prejjion. The word is ufed by naturalifts to exprefs the 
 power, which one quality has, by prejjing on alljidcs, to 
 augment its contrary : as here the cold, with which old 
 age is environed, increafes heat. He exprefles this 
 quaint idea more plainly in two verfes of THE Mis- 
 
 (left out in this collection), where he fays 
 Flames their moil vigorous heat do hold, 
 And pureft light, if compafs'd round with cold." 
 The Requejt, St. 3. 
 
 They,
 
 MR. A. COWL EY. 153 
 
 They, like thee, fhould throughly hate 
 
 Bufmefs, honour, title, (late. 
 
 Other wealth they fhould not know, 
 
 But what my living mines beftow ; 
 
 The pomp of kings they fhculd confefs 
 
 At their crownings to be lefs 
 
 Than a lover's humbleft guife, 
 
 When at his miftrefs' feet he lies. 
 
 Rumour they no more fhould mind 
 
 Than men fafe-landed do, the wind ; 
 
 Wifdom itfelf they fhould not hear, 
 
 When it prcfumes to be fevcre. 
 
 Beauty alone they fhould admire j 
 
 Nor look at fortune's vain attire, 
 
 Not afk what parents it can fhew ; 
 
 With dead, or old, t' has nought to do. 
 
 They fhould not love yet all, or any. 
 
 But very much, and very many. 
 
 All their life fhould gilded be 
 
 With mirth, and wit, and gaiety, 
 
 Well remembering, and applying 
 
 The neceflity of dying. 
 
 Their chearful heads fhould always wear 
 
 All that crowns the flowery year. 
 
 They fhould always laugh, and fing, 
 
 And dance, and firike th' harmonious firing. 
 
 * Verfc
 
 154 P O E M S O F 
 
 Verfe fhould from their tongue fo flow, 
 
 As if it in the mouth did grow, 
 
 As fwiftly anfwering their command, 
 
 As tunes obey the artful hand. 
 
 And, whilft I do thus difcover 
 
 Th/ ingredients of a happy lover, 
 
 *Tis, my Anacreon, for thy fake 
 
 I of the grape no mention make. 
 Till my Anacreon by thee fell,' 
 
 Curfed plant, I lov'd thee well, 
 
 And 'twas -oft my wanton ufe, 
 
 To dip my arrows in thy juice, 
 
 Curfed plant, 'tis true, I fee, 
 
 The old report that goes of thee, 
 That with giants blood the earth 
 Stain'd and poifon'd gave thee birth, 
 And now thou wreak'ft thy ancient fpight 
 On men, in whom the gods delight, 
 Thy patron Bacchus, 'tis no wonder, 
 Was brought forth in" flames and thunder; 
 In rage, in quarrels, and in fights, 
 Worfe than his tigers, he delights : 
 In all our heaven I think there be [r] 
 No fuch ill-natur'd god as he. 
 
 [r] I think there bi\ "I think, Crab, my dog It 
 
 the foureft-natured dog that lives." [Shake/}. T<wo Gent. 
 
 i Thou
 
 MR. A. C O W L E Y. 
 
 Thou pretendeft, traiterous wine, 
 To be the Mufes friend and mine. 
 With love and wit thou doft begin, 
 Falfe fires, alas, to draw us in, 
 Which, if our courfe we by them keep, 
 Mifguide to madnefs, or to fleep. 
 Sleep were well ; thou'ft learnt a way 
 To death itfelf now to betray. 
 
 It grieves me, when I fee what fate 
 Does on. the beft of mankind wait. 
 Poets, or lovers, let them be, 
 'Tis neither love nor poefy 
 Can arm againft death's fmalleft dart 
 The poet's ' ead, or lover's heart. 
 But, when their life, in its decline, 
 Touches th' inevitable line, 
 AH the world's mortal to 'em then, 
 And wine js aconite to men. 
 
 A. n. S. 3.] Be, for am or//, was origi- 
 nally the miftake of one mode for another. It, after- 
 wards, grew into credit ; and feemed to take an air of 
 confiftency and regularity, when fomebody had be- 
 thought himfelf to ufe, tijt, in the Second Perfon, 
 for art. Hence, what grammarians call, the doubh 
 form in the Indicative Prefent of the Auxiliary, to te, 
 Jt js, now, defervedly exploded. 
 
 Nay,
 
 t$6 POEMS OF 
 
 Nay, in death's hand, the grape-flone proves 
 As ftrong, as thunder is in Jove's. 
 
 XI. 
 
 THE CHRONICLE. 
 
 A BALLAD |>], 
 
 VJARGARITA firft poflefs'd, 
 If I remember well, my breaft, 
 
 Margarita, firft of all ; 
 But, when a while the wanton maid 
 With my reftlcfs heart had play'd, 
 
 Martha took the flying ball. 
 
 2. 
 
 iMartha foon did it refign 
 
 To the beauteous Catharine. 
 
 [j] This agreeable Ballad has had juftice done to it. 
 Nothing is more famous, even in our days, than 
 Co\yley's miftrejfts. 
 
 Beauteous
 
 MR, A. COWL EY. 157 
 
 Beauteous Catharine gave place 
 (Though loth and angry (he to part 
 With the poflcffion of my heart) 
 
 To Elifa's conquering face. 
 
 3- 
 
 Elifa till this hour might reign, 
 
 Had fhe not evil counfels ta'en : 
 Fundamental laws fhe broke, 
 
 And ftill new favourites fhe chofe, 
 
 Till up in arms my paflions rofe, 
 'And caft away her yoke. 
 
 Mary then and gentle Anne 
 
 Both to reign at once began ; 
 
 Alternately they fway'd : 
 And fometimes Mary was the fair, 
 And fometimes Anne the crown did wear, 
 
 And fometimes both I' obey'd. 
 
 5- 
 
 Another Mary then arofe, 
 
 And did rigorous laws impofe : 
 
 A mighty tyrant, fhe ! 
 Long, alas, fhould I have been 
 Under that iron-fcepter'd queen, 
 
 Hud not Rebecca fet me free. 
 
 6. When
 
 15$ P O E M S G F 
 
 6. 
 
 When fair Rebecca fet me free, 
 
 'Twas then a golden time with me j 
 But foon thofe pleafures fled j 
 
 For the gracious princefs dy'd 
 
 In her youth and beauty's pride, 
 
 And Judith reigned in her Head. 
 
 7- 
 One month, three days, and half an hour, 
 
 Judith held the fovereign power ; 
 
 Wondrous beautiful her face j 
 But fo weak and fmall her wit, 
 That me to govern was unfit, 
 
 And fo Sufanna took her place. 
 
 8. 
 But, when Ifabella came, 
 
 Arm'd with a refiftlefs flame, 
 
 And th' artillery of her eye ; 
 Whilft flie proudly march'd about 
 Greater conqueils to find out, 
 
 She beat out Sufan by the bye. 
 
 9- 
 But in her place I then obey'd 
 
 Black-ey'd Befs, her viceroy-maid, 
 
 To
 
 MR. A. COWLEY. 15$ 
 
 To whom enfu'd a vacancy. 
 Thoufand worfe paflions then poffefs'd 
 The interregnum of .my breaft : 
 
 Blefs me from fuch an anarchy \ 
 
 10. 
 
 Gentle Henrietta than [/], 
 
 And a third Mary next began ; 
 Then Joan, and Jane, and Audria, 
 
 And then a pretty Thomafine, 
 
 And then another Katharine, 
 And then a long tt c&tera. 
 
 But mould I now to you relate, 
 
 The ftrength and riches of their {rate, 
 The powder, patches, and the pins, 
 The ribbands, jewels, and the rings, 
 The lace, the paint, and warlike things, 
 That make up all their magazines : 
 
 [/] than\ So fpelt (as many other words in thefir 
 poems are) for the fake of the rhyme. He had learned 
 this art, or licence rather, from Spenfer, who pra&ifed 
 it very frequently. But he might have learned better 
 things from our old poet, if this early favourite of hi 9 
 youth had been taken for the model of his riper 
 age. - 
 
 12. If
 
 iltfo P O E M S O F 
 
 12. 
 If I fhould tell the politic arts 
 
 To take and keep mens hearts 5 
 The letters, en.bailies, and fpies, 
 The frowns, and fmiles, and flatteries, 
 The quarrels, tears, and perjuries, 
 Numberlefs, namelefs myfteries ! 
 
 And all the little lime-twigs laid 
 
 By Machiavel, the waiting-maid j 
 I more voluminous fhould grow 
 (Chiefly, if I like them fhould tell 
 All change of weathers [] that befell) 
 Than Holinfhead or Stow* 
 
 14. 
 But I will briefer with them be, 
 
 Since few of them were long with me. 
 
 An higher and a nobler drain 
 My prefent emperefs does claim, 
 Heleonora, firft o'th'' name ; 
 
 \Vhom God grant long to reign ! 
 
 [a] change of weathers] His brilliant wit, 
 once, is well placed. 
 
 XII. ODE.
 
 MR. A. C O W L E Y. 
 
 161 
 
 XII. 
 
 D 
 
 E. 
 
 ACME and S E P T I M I U S : 
 Out of CATULLUS. 
 
 TTITHILST on Septimius' panting breaft, 
 
 (Meaning nothing lefs than reft) 
 Acme lean'd her loving head, 
 Thus the pleas'd Septimius faid - t 
 
 My deareft Acme, if I be 
 
 Once alive, and love not thee 
 
 With a pafiion far above 
 
 All that e'er was called love, 
 
 In a Libyan defert may 
 
 I become fome lion's prey ; 
 
 Let him, Acme, let him tear 
 
 My breaft, when Acme is not there. 
 
 The god of love, who flood to hear him, 
 (The god of love was always near him) 
 VOL. I. M PLas'd
 
 162 P O E M S f 
 
 Pleas'd and tickled with the founcf^ 
 Sneez'd aloud : and all around 
 The little loves, that waited by, 
 Bow'd, and blefs'd the augury. 
 Acme, inflam'd with what he faid, 
 Rear'd her gently-bending head, 
 And, her purple mouth with joy 
 Stretching to the delicious boy, 
 Twice (and twice could fcarce fuffice}' 
 She kifs'd his drunken, rowling eyes. 
 
 My little life, my all (faid fhe), 
 
 So may we ever fervants be 
 
 To this beft god, and ne'er retain. 
 
 Our hated liberty again, 
 
 So may thy paflion laft for me, 
 
 As I a paflion have for thee, 
 
 Greater and fiercer much than can 
 
 Be conceiv'd by thee, a man. 
 
 Into my marrow is it gone, 
 
 Fix'd and fettled in the bone; 
 
 Jt reigns not only in my heart, 
 
 But runs, like life through ev'ry part. 
 
 She fpoke; the god of love, aloud, 
 
 Sneez'd again ; and all the crowd 
 
 Of little loves, that waited by, 
 
 Bow'd, and blefs'd the augury.
 
 MR. A. COWLEY. 363 
 
 This good omen thus from heaven, 
 
 Like a happy fignal, given, 
 
 Their loves and lives (all four) embrace, 
 
 And hand in hand run all the race. 
 
 To poor Septimius (who did now 
 
 Nothing elfe but Acme grow) 
 
 Acme's bofom was alone 
 
 The whole world's imperial throne j 
 
 And to faithful Acme's mind 
 
 Septimius was all human kind. 
 
 If the gods would pleafe to be 
 
 But advis'd for once by me, 
 
 I'd advife them, when them fpy 
 
 Any illuftrious piety, 
 
 To reward her, if it be fhe ; 
 
 To reward him, if it be he ; 
 
 With fuch a hufband, fuch a wife [w]> 
 
 With Acme's and Septimius' life. 
 
 [w] fuel a hufband, fucb a wife] It is to be ob- 
 ferved, to the honour of our author's morals, and good 
 tafte, that, by this little deviation from his original, he 
 has converted a loofe love-poem into a fober epithala- 
 mium. We have all the grace, and, what is more, all 
 the warmth of Catullus, without his indecency. 
 
 M 2 XIII. THE
 
 164 P O E M S O F 
 
 XIII. 
 
 THE PRAISE OF PINDAR [.v]. 
 AN ODE: 
 
 In Imitation of HORACE, 4 Od. ii. 
 
 T)!NDAR is imitable by none; 
 
 The phoenix Pindar is a vail fpecies alone. 
 Whoe'er jbutDaedalus,with waxen wings could fly, 
 And neither fmk too low, nor foar too high ? 
 
 What could he, who follow'd, claim, 
 But of vain boldnefs the unhappy fame, 
 
 And, by his fall, a fea to name ? 
 
 O] 7%e pra:fe of Pindar.'} This, and the three fol- 
 lowing odes are in the number of thofe, which Mr. 
 Cowley calls, Pindaric : an exquisite fort of poetry, to 
 which his Jijk was very, ill fuited ; being, for the moil 
 part, careiefs, and fometimes, affedtedly vulgar. The 
 ideas, in this ode, -re from Horace ; but the fpirit and 
 expreffion, are the writer's own. 
 
 I Pindar's
 
 MR. A. COWLEY. 16$ 
 
 Pindar's unnavigable fong, 
 Like a fwoln flood from fome fteep mountain, pours 
 
 along ; 
 
 The ocean meets with fuch a voice 
 From his enlarged mouth, as drowns the ocean's 
 noife. 
 
 So Pindaf does new words and figures roul 
 Down his impetuous dithyrambic tide, 
 
 Which in no channel deigns t'abide, 
 
 Which neither banks nor dikes controul. 
 
 Whether th' immortal gods he fmgs 
 
 In a no lefs immortal ftrain ; 
 Or the great afts of god-defcended kings, 
 Who in his numbers ftill furvive and reign. 
 
 Each rich embroider'd line, 
 Which their triumphant brows around, 
 
 By his facred hand, is bound, 
 Does all their ftarry diadems outfhine. 
 
 3- 
 
 Whether at Pifa's race he plcafe 
 To carve in polifh'd verfe the conquerors images : 
 Whether the fwift, the fkilful, or the ftrong, 
 Be crowned in his nimble, artful, vigorous fong: 
 M 3 Whether
 
 \66 P O E M S O F 
 
 Whether fome brave young man's untimely fate, 
 
 In words worth dying for, he celebrate, 
 
 Such mournful, and fuch pleafmg words, 
 
 Asjoy t'his mother's and his miftrefs' grief affords : 
 He bids him live and grow in fame, 
 Among the ftars he flicks his name [ y~\ ; 
 
 The grave can but the drofs of him devour ; 
 
 So fmall is death's, fo great the poet's, power. 
 
 4- 
 Lo, how th' obfequious wind, and fwellingair, 
 
 The Theban fwan [z] does upwards bear 
 Into the walks of clouds, where he does play, 
 And with extended wings open his liquid way, 
 
 Whilft, alas, my tim'rous Mufe 
 
 Unambitious tracks purfues ; 
 
 [j ] Among the ftars he flicks his name\ 
 
 " Stellis inferere, et concilio Jovis." Hor. 3 Od. 
 
 XXV. 6. COWLEY. 
 
 [z] 'The Thelan fajan] Mr. Gray calls him, the Tbeban 
 eagle ; but the imagery of both poets is much the fame. 
 
 " tho' he inherit 
 
 " Nor the pride, nor ample pinion, 
 
 " That the Theban eagle bear, 
 f Sailing with fupreme dominion 
 
 ff Thro' the azure 4eep of air.'TrogrefsofPoetiy. 
 
 Does,
 
 MR. A. COWLEY. 167 
 
 Does, with weak unballaft wings, 
 About the mofly brooks and fprings ; 
 About the trees new-blofTom'd heads, 
 About the gardens painted beds, 
 About the fields and flowery meads, 
 And all inferior beauteous things, 
 
 Like the laborious bee, 
 For little drops of honey flee [], 
 And there with humble fweets contents her induftry. 
 
 XIV. 
 \r- HUTU S[3]. 
 
 AN ODE. 
 
 I. 
 
 pXCELLENT Brutus, of all human race 
 The heft, till nature was improv'd by grace, 
 
 [a] flee\ The proper word had been fy, if the 
 rhyme would have given leave. To fee, is properly to 
 move with fpeed out of the way of danger - t toyfy, to mme 
 twitb fpeed on WINGS. 
 
 [&] The fubjeft of this ode feems to have bee n 
 
 chofcn by the poet, for the fake of venting his indig- 
 
 M 4 Till
 
 1 68 P O M S O F 
 
 Till men above themfelve? faith raifed more, 
 
 Than reafon above beafts, before. 
 ( Virtue was thy life's centre, and from thence 
 Did filently and conftantly difpenfe 
 The gentle vigorous influence 
 To all the wide and fair circumference : 
 And all the parts upon it lean'd fo eafily, 
 Obey'd the mighty force fo willingly, 
 
 nation againft Cromwell. It has been generally fuppof, 
 ed> that Mr. Cowley had no ear for harmony, and even 
 no tafte of elegant expreffion. And one mould be apt to 
 think fo, frm his untuned verfe and rugged ftyle : but 
 the cafe was only this : Donne and Jonfon were the fa, 
 vourite poets of the time, and therefore tkiimodels, on 
 which our poet was ambitious to form hi<^i;lf. But un- 
 "happily thefe poets offered har '{h numbers and uncooth 
 expreffion ; and what they affefted, eafily came to be 
 looked upon as beauties. Even Milton hirafelf, in hi s 
 younger days, fell into this delufion. [See his poem on 
 Sbakefpear.] But the vigour of his genius, or, perhaps, 
 his courfeof life, which led him out of the high-road of 
 fafhion, enabled him, in good time, to break through 
 the fnare of exemplar <vitiis imitabile. The court, which 
 had worfe things to anfwer for, kept poor Cowley eter- 
 nally in it. Eeforfook the converfation (fays Dr. Sprat, 
 \vho defigned him a compliment in the obfervation)^ 
 fat never THE LANGUAGE OF THE COURT, 
 
 That
 
 MR. A. COW LEY. *<j 
 
 That none could difcord or diforder fee 
 
 In all their contrariety. 
 Each had his motion natural and free, 
 And the whole no more mov'd, than the whole 
 world could be. 
 
 From the ftridT: rule fome think that thou didft 
 
 fwerve 
 
 (Miftaken honeft'men) in Caefar's blood : 
 What mercy could the tyrant's life deferve 
 From him, who Jcill'd himfelf, rather than ferve ? 
 Th' heroic exaltations of good 
 
 Are fo far from underftood, 
 We count them vice : alas, our fight's fo ill, 
 Thatthings,whichfwifteftmove,feemtoftandftill. 
 We look not upon virtue in her height, 
 On her fupreme idea, brave and bright, 
 
 In the original light j 
 But as her beams reflected pafs 
 Through our own nature, or ill cuftom's glafs : 
 
 And 'tis no wonder fo, 
 
 If, with dejected eye, 
 In ftanding pools we feek the'fky, 
 That ftars, fo high above, mould feem to us below. 
 
 3. Can
 
 POEMSOP 
 
 Can we fland by, and fee 
 
 Our mother robb'd, and bound, and ravifli'd be, 
 Yet not to her affiftance ftir, 
 
 Pleas'd with the ftrength and beauty of the ra-> 
 
 vifher [V] ? 
 
 Or, fhall we fear to kill him, if before 
 The cancel'd name of friend he bore ? 
 Ingrateful Brutus do they call ? 
 
 Ingrateful Caefar, who could Rome enthral ! 
 
 In acl more barbarous and unnatural 
 
 (Jn th' exacT: balance of true virtue tried) 
 
 Than his fucceflbr Nero's parricide ! 
 
 There's none, but Brutus, could defervg 
 That all men elfe fliould wifh to ferve, 
 
 |>] This is well put. "Bat pietj to the mother m.u& not 
 extinguifh all regard for the mother's/cj. Nothing con- 
 tributed fo much, as the aflaffination of the firfl Caefar, 
 to bring on all thofe tragedies, with which the gloomy 
 and unappeafable jealoufyof his fucceflbrs, afterwards, 
 filled the Roman annals. The queflion is not, what Cae- 
 far deferved, but what the true intereftof the Roman peo- 
 ple required. For in thefe cafes, as Macbeth well obferves, 
 
 we but teach 
 
 " Bloody inftruftions, which, being taught, return 
 " To plague th' inventor" Adi I. S. viii- 
 
 And
 
 MR. A. C_OWLEY. w 
 
 And Caefar's ufurp'd place to him fhould profFer; 
 None can deferve 't, but he, who would refufe 
 the offer. 
 
 Ill fate afTum'd a body, thee t' affright, 
 And wrapt itfelf i'th' terrors of the night, 
 /'// meet thee at Philippj, faid the fpright : 
 
 /'// meet thee there, faidft thou, 
 With fuch a voice, and fuch a brow, 
 As put the trembling ghoft to fudden flight; 
 It vanifh'd, as a taper's light 
 Goes out, when fpirits appear in fight. 
 One would have thought, 't had heard the morn-* 
 
 ing crow, 
 
 Or feen her well-appointed ftar 
 Come marching up the eaftern hill afar [*/]. 
 Nor durft it in Philippi's field appear, 
 
 But unfeen attack'd thee there. 
 Had it prefum'd in any ihape thee to oppofe, 
 Thou wouldft have forc'd it back upon thy foes : 
 
 {</] eajlern kill afar.} 
 *' Till down the eaftern cliffs afar, 
 " Hyperion's inarch they fpy, andglitt'ring fhafts of 
 ' war." Mr. Gray. 
 
 Or
 
 172 P O E M S O F 
 
 Or flain 't, like Caefar, though it be 
 A conqueror, and a monarch, mightier far than he. 
 
 What joy can human things to us afford, 
 
 When we fee perifh thus, by odd events, 
 III men, and wretched accidents, 
 
 Thebeftcaufe,and beft man that ever drew a fword ? 
 When we fee 
 
 The falfe O&avius, arclwild Antony, 
 
 God-like Brutus, conquer thee ? 
 
 What can we fay, but thine own Lragic word, 
 
 That virtue, which had worfhip'd been by thee 
 
 As the moft folid good, and greateft deity, 
 By this fatal proof became 
 An idol only, and a name ? 
 Hold, noble Brutus, and reitrain 
 
 The bold voice of thy generous difdain : 
 Thefe mighty gulphs are yet 
 
 Too deep for all thy judgement and thy wit. 
 
 The time's fet forth already, which mall quell 
 
 Stiff reafon, when it offers to re bell j 
 
 Which thefe great fecrets mail unfeal, 
 And new philofophies reveal. 
 
 A few
 
 MR. A. COWLEY- ijr* 
 
 A few years more, fo foon hadft thou not died, 
 Would have confounded human virtue's pride, 
 And ihew'd thee a God crucified. 
 
 $0808080*$^^ 
 
 XV. 
 To Mr. H o B B E s >. 
 
 i. 
 
 "\7 AST bodies of philofophy 
 I oft have feen, and read ; 
 
 But all are bodies dead, 
 Or bodies by art fafhioned : 
 I never yet the living foul could fee, 
 
 But in thy books, and thee. 
 'Tis only God can know 
 Whether the fair idea thou doft fnow 
 Agree intirely with his own, or no. 
 
 [V] Mr. Hobbes was, at this time, the philofopher in 
 famion ; and Mr. Cowley fpeaks the fafluonable, rather 
 than his own fenfe of him; as appears from the exag- 
 gerated ftrain of his panegyric. However, he does but 
 j uftice to the vigour of his fenfe, and the manly elegance 
 ofi.i: ft vie : for the latter of which qualities, chiefly, 
 his philofophic writings are now valuable. 
 
 This
 
 174 POEMS OF 
 
 This I- dare boldly tell, 
 
 *Tis fo like truth, 'twill ferveour turn as well [f], 
 Juft, as in nature, thy proportions be, 
 As full of concord, their variety j 
 As firm the parts upon their centre reft; 
 And all fo folid are, that they at leaft, 
 As much as nature, emptinefs deteft. 
 
 2. 
 
 Long did the mighty Stagirite retain [] 
 
 The univerfal intellectual reign, 
 
 Saw his own country's fhort-liv'd leopard flain[] ; 
 
 The ftronger Roman-eagle did outfly [/], 
 
 Oftner renewed his age, and faw that die ; 
 
 [/] Tins I Jare boldly tell, 
 
 *Tisfo like truth, 'twill fer<ve our turn as well.'] Thfl 
 writer, indeed, is a poet : but this was rather too boldly 
 faid. 
 
 [g] Ariitotle; fo called from the town of Stagira, 
 where he was born, fituated near the bay of Strymon in 
 Macedonia. COWLEY. 
 
 [] Oudafted the Grecian empire, which, in the vifions 
 of Daniel, is reprefented, by a leopard, with four wings 
 upon the back^ and four heads, chap. vii. 6. COWLEY. 
 
 [z] Was received even beyond the bounds of the Ro- 
 man empire, and out-lived it. COWLEV. 
 
 I Meccha
 
 MR. A. COWLEY. 75 
 
 Meccha itfelf, in fpight of Mahomet, poflefs'd[J], 
 And, chas'd by a wild deluge from the Eaft, 
 His monarchy new planted in the "Weft. 
 But, as in time eacto great imperial race 
 Degenerates, and gives fome new one place 5 
 So did this noble empire wafte, 
 Sunk by degrees from glories paft, 
 And in the fchool-mens hands it perifh'd quite at laft. 
 Then nought but words it grew, 
 And thofe all barbarous too : 
 It perifh'd, and it vanifh'd there, 
 The life and foul, breath'd out, became but 
 empty air. 
 
 [] For Ariftotle's philofophy was in great efleen* 
 among the Arabians or Saracens ; witnefs thoie many 
 excellent books upon him, or according to his principles, 
 written by Averroes, Avicenna, Avempace, and divers 
 others. In flight of Mahomet : becaufe his law, being 
 adapted to the barbarous humour of thofe people he had- 
 firfl to deal withal, and aiming only at greatnefs of em- 
 pire by the fword, forbids all the ftudies of learning j 
 which (neverthelefs) florifhed admirably under the Sa. 
 racen monarchy, and continued fo, till it was extinguish - 
 ed with that empire, by the inundation of the Turks, 
 and other nations. Meccha is the town in Arabia 
 where Mahomet was bora, COWLEY. 
 
 ?. The
 
 l?6 P O E M S O F 
 
 3- 
 
 The fields,which anfwer'd well theancients plough , 
 Spent and out- worn, return no harveft now, 
 In barren age wild and unglorious lie, 
 
 And boaft of pail fertility, 
 The poor relief of prefent poverty. 
 
 Food and fruit we now muft want, 
 
 Unlefs new lands we plant. 
 We break up tombs with facrilegious hands ; 
 
 Old rubbifh we remove ; 
 To walk in ruins, like vain ghofts, we love. 
 And with fond divining wands [/] 
 
 We fearch among the dead 
 
 For treafures buried, 
 Whilft ftill the liberal earth does hold 
 So many virgin mines of undifcover'd gold. 
 
 4- 
 
 The Baltic, Euxine, and the Cafpian, 
 And flender-limb'd Mediterranean [tn], 
 
 [/] Virgula di*vina, or a divining wand, is a two-forked 
 branch of an hazel-tree, which is ufed for the finding out 
 either of veins, or hidden treafures, of gold or fdver ; 
 and being carried about, bends downwards (or rather is 
 faid to do fo) when it comes to the place where they lye. 
 COWLEY. 
 
 [m] All the navigation of the ancients was in thefe 
 
 Seem
 
 MR k A. COWLEY. 17^ 
 
 Seem narrow creeks to thee, and only fit 
 
 For the poor wretched fifher-boats of wit. 
 
 Thy nobler veflel the vaft ocean tries, 
 
 And nothing fees, but feas and ikies, 
 Till unknown regions it defcries, 
 
 Thou great Columbus of the golden lands of 
 new philofophies. 
 
 Thy talk was harder much, than hisj 
 For thy learn'd America is 
 Not only found out firft by thee, 
 
 And rudely left to future induftry ; 
 
 But thy eloquence, and thy wit, 
 
 Has planted, peopled, built, and civiliz'd it. 
 
 5- 
 
 I little thought before, 
 (Nor, being my own felf fo poor, 
 Could comprehend fo vaft a ftore) 
 That all the wardrobe of rich eloquence 
 Could have afforded half enough, 
 Of bright, of new, and lading fluff, 
 To cloathe the mighty limbs of thy gigantic 
 
 fenfe [*]. 
 
 feas ; they feldotn ventured into the ocean ; and when 
 they did, did only lit t us legert, coaft about near the 
 fliore. COWLEY. 
 
 [] The meaning is, that his notions are fo new, and 
 VOL. I. N Thy
 
 , 7 8 P O E M 5 O F 
 
 Thy folid reafon, like the fhield from heaven 
 
 To the Trojan hero given [0], 
 Too ftrong to take a mark from any mortal dart, 
 Yet fhines with gold and gems in every part, 
 And wonders on it grav'd by the learn 'd hand of art ; 
 A fhield, that gives delight 
 Even to the enemies fight, 
 Then, when they'refuretolofethe combat by't[/J. 
 
 6. 
 
 Nor can the fnow, which now cold age does fhei 
 
 Upon thy reverend head, 
 Quench or allay the noble fires within - f 
 But all which thou haft been, 
 
 fo great, thatl did not think it had been poflible to have 
 found out words to exprefs them clearly ; as no ward- 
 robe can furnifh cloaths to fit a body taller and bigger 
 than ever any was before : for the cloaths were made 
 according to fome meafure that then was. COWLEY. 
 
 [o] Seethe excellent defoription of this fhield, made 
 by Vulcan, at the requeft of Venus, for her fon ^Eneas, 
 at the end of the eighth book of the ^Eneid, 
 
 " etclypei non enarrabile textum." 
 whereon was graven all the Roman hiftory. COWLEY. 
 
 [/] ~* lf e *b e combat bft."] As not a few did, who 
 prefumed, with very unequal arms, to try the temper 
 of that magic Ihield ; which time and common fenfe, 
 however, have at length difenehanted. 
 
 And
 
 MR. A. COWL EY. 179 
 
 And all that youth can be, thou'rt yet ; 
 
 So fully ftill doft thou 
 Enjoy the manhood, and the bloom of wit, 
 And all the natural heat, but not the fever too. 
 So contraries on Etna's top [g] confpire ; 
 Here hoary frofts, and by them breaks out fire [r]. 
 
 [y] So contraries on JEtna* stop} By. making tbefrojlson 
 y2i/'.f?o/>acomparifon only, and not enlarging direclly 
 on the contraryqualitiesof fo/Vand heat, taken fometimes 
 in the literal fenfe, and fometimes in the metaphorical, 
 the poet has kept clear, in a good degree, of that mixt 
 *wit (as Mr. Addifon calls it), in which he fo much ex- 
 celled and delighted. '.'"he/fn? of Hobbes' genius, breaking 
 out under the fnniv of hi? gray hairs, might have been 
 fct in fo many different lights by our ingenious author, 
 and have been worked up by him intofuch a variety of 
 amufing contracts, that the temperate ufe of his darling 
 faculty, in this inftance, defervcs our commendation. 
 
 [r] The defcription of the neighbourhood of fire and 
 fnow, upon JEtna. (but not the application of it) is 
 imitated out of Claude. 1. i. de Raptu Prof. 
 
 *' Sed quamvis nimio fervens exuberet aeftu, 
 ' Scit nivibus fervare fidem, pariterquefavillis 
 " Durefcit glacies, tanti fecura vaporis, 
 *' Arcano defcnfa gelu, fumoque tiacli 
 " Lambit contiguas innoxia flamina pruinas." 
 Where, methinks, is fomewhat of that which Senecaob- 
 jedls to Ovid, Nf/ctvit quoa benc cejfit rtiinqutre. When 
 he met with a fancy that pleafed him, he could not find 
 N 2 A fccure
 
 i8o P O 1 M S O F 
 
 A fecure peace the faithful neighbours keep, 
 
 Xh'embolden'd fnow next to the flame does fleep. 
 And, if we weigh, like thee, 
 Nature, and caufes, we fhall fee 
 That thus it needs muft be } 
 
 To things immortal time can do no wrong ; 
 
 And that which never is to die, for ever muft be 
 young. 
 
 in his heart to quit, or ever to have done with it. Ta- 
 citus has the like expreffion of Mount Libanus, Pr&ci-- 
 fuum montium Libanum, mirum diftu, tarttos inter ardor es 
 epacumfdumque nivibus ; fhady among fuch great heats, 
 and faithful to the fnow ; which is too poetical for the 
 profe even of a romance, much more of an hiftorian 
 Sil. Italic, of ./Etna, 1. xiv. 
 
 " Summocanajugocohibet (mirabile diftu) 
 " Vicinam flammis glaciem, aeternoque rigore 
 " Ardentes horrent fcopuli, Hat vertice celfi 
 " Collishyems,calidaquenivera tegitatrafavilla." 
 See likewife Seneca, Epift. 79. COWLEY. 
 
 XVI. LIFE
 
 MR. A. COWL EY. 181 
 
 XVI. 
 LIFE AND FAME. 
 
 /^\H life, thou nothing's younger brother [j] ! 
 So like,that one might take one for the other[/]! 
 What's fomebody, or nobody [J ? 
 
 [j] Becaufe nothing preceded it, as privation does all 
 being ; which perhaps is the fenfe of the diftin&ion of 
 days in the ftory of the creation ; night fignifying the 
 privation, and day, the fubfequent being, from whence 
 the evening is placed firft, Gen. i. 5. " And the even- 
 * ing and the morning were the firlt day." COWLEY. 
 
 [r] Ob life, tbou nothing's younger brother ! 
 So like, that one might take one for the other /] i.e. life is 
 lefs than nothing, but, as being come of nothing, is t>ery like it* 
 Mr. Cowley's poetry (as here) is often much disfigured 
 by the double affectation of ivit %.n& familiarity. He 
 would fay an out-of-the way thing, in a trivial man- 
 ner. But fuch was the court-idea, in his time, of 
 writing, like a gentleman. 
 
 [] Ti i rif, rl $' arc ; Xxta? ome av9 t -4;7r. Pindar. 
 What isfomebodj, or ivbat is nobody ! Man is the dream 
 cfa jhadovj. C O w L E Y.. 
 
 N 3 In
 
 i82. POEMS OP 
 
 In all the cobwebs of the fchoolmen's trade [/], 
 We no fuch nice diflinction woven fee, 
 
 As 'tis, to be, or, not to be. 
 Dream of a fhadow [#] ! a reflection, made 
 From the falfe glories of the gay reflected bow[y], 
 
 Is a more folid thing than thou. 
 Vain weak-built ifthmus [%], which doft proudly 
 
 rife 
 Up betwixt two eternities [] ; 
 
 [ty] The diftin&ions of the fchoolmen may be likened 
 to cobwebs (I mean many of them, for fome are better 
 woven) ; either becaufe of the too much finenefs of the 
 work, which makes it flight, and able to catch only little 
 creatures ; or becaufe they take not the materials from 
 nature, but fpin it out of themfelves. COWLEY. 
 
 [x] Dream of a Jbadow /] Juftly admired by Plu- 
 tarch, as a moft ingenious and expreflive hyperbole. 
 Vol. ii. p. 104. ed. Xy land. Par. 1624. 
 
 [j>] The rainbow is in itfelf of no colour ; thofe that 
 appear are but reflections of the fun's light received dif- 
 ferently 
 
 Milletrahit varies adverfo fole colores:" 
 as is evident by artificial rainbows ; and yet this fhadow, 
 this aimed nothing, makes fometimes another rainbow 
 (butnotfo diftinft or beautiful) byrefieftion. COWLEY- 
 
 \K\ Ifthmus is a neck of land that divides a peninfula 
 from the continent and is betwixt two feas, r>j a'^6*- 
 teffff*. In which manner this narrow pafTage of life 
 divides the part time from ' the future, and is at laft 
 iwallowed up intoeternity. COWLEY. 
 
 [a] Ijibmus, -bttivixttwo eternities ;] A fublime idea, 
 
 Yet
 
 MR. A. COWLEY. i8j 
 
 Yet canft nor wave nor wind fuftain ; 
 But, broken and o'erwhelm'd, the endlefs oceans 
 meet again. 
 
 And with what rare inventions do we itrive, 
 
 Ourfelves then to furvive ? 
 Wife, fubtle arts, and fueh as well befit 
 
 That nothing man's no wit. 
 Some with vaft coftly tombs would purchafe it, 
 And, by the proofs of death, pretend to live. 
 
 Hen lies the great Falfe marble, where ? 
 Nothing but fmall and fordid duft lies there. 
 Some build enormous mountain-palaces, 
 
 The fools and architects to pleafe : 
 
 which lay unnoticed in this ode, till Mr. Pope produced 
 it into obfervation 
 
 *' Plac'd on this ijlkmus of a middle ft ate, 
 *' A being darkly wife, and rudely great.'* 
 
 Eff. on Man, ep. ii. 3* 
 
 Not but our philofophical poet ha'd his eye, alfo, on 
 M. Pafcal " qu'eft-ce que i'hoinme dans la nature ? 
 ' Un neant a Pcgard de 1'infim, un tout a 1'egard du 
 " neant, un milieu entre rien et tout H eft infiniment 
 " eloigne des deux extremes ; et foh etre n'eft moins 
 " diftant du neant d'ou il eft tire, que de 1'infini ou il 
 eft englouti." Penjtet, c. xxii. 
 
 N 4 Alaft-
 
 1 8* P O E M S O F 
 
 A lading life in well-hewn ftone they rear : 
 So he, who on th' Egyptian fhore [] 
 Was flain, fo many hundred years before, 
 Lives ftill (oh life, moft happy and moft dear ! 
 Oh life, that Epicures envy to hear [c] ! ) 
 Lives in the drooping ruins of his amphitheatre. 
 
 3' 
 
 His [/] father-in-law [e] an higher place does claim 
 In the feraphic entity of fame [f~\. 
 
 He, fince that toy, his death [^], 
 Does fill all mouths,and breathesin all men's breath. 
 
 [f>] Pompey the great. COWLET. 
 
 [r] An irony ; that is, "Oh life, which Epicure s 
 *' laugh at and contemn !" COWLEY. 
 
 [et] Caefar, whofe daughter Julia was married to 
 Pompey; an alliance fatal to the commonwealth ; which* 
 as Tully fays, ought never to have been made, or never 
 ended. COWLEY. 
 
 [e] His father-in-law] This, again, is in the farm. 
 Jjar ftyle. He might have faid, more fuitably to the 
 ftyle of an ode 
 
 " Great Czefar's felf'-r . 
 
 \f~\ Supernatural, intellectual, unintelligible being. 
 ROWLEY. 
 
 [^] that toy, his death] Called a toy, becaufe the 
 play- thing of every declaimer, from that time to this,
 
 MR. A. COWL RY. 18$ 
 
 'Tis true, the two immortal fyllables [6] remain, 
 
 But, o ye learned men, explain, 
 
 What eflence, what exiftence this, 
 What fubftance, what fubfiftence, whathypoftafi^ 
 
 In fix poor letters is ? 
 In thofe alone does the great Caefar live ; 
 
 'Tis all the conquer'd world could give. 
 
 We poets, madder yet than all, 
 With a refin'd fantaftic vanity, 
 Think, we not only have, but give eternity. 
 
 Fain would I fee that prodigal, 
 
 and, by paffing through fo many hands, more inftru- 
 mental to the propagation of Csfar's fame, than all the 
 glories of his life. 
 
 [h] two immortal fyllallei} This lively ridicule, on 
 fofthumous fame, is well enough placed in a poem, or de- 
 clamation : but we are a little furprized to find fo grave 
 writer, as Mr. Wollafton, diverting himielf with it. 
 Iq reality (fays he) the man is not known ever the more 
 ' to pofterity, becaufe his name is tranfmitted to them : 
 be doth not live, becaufe his name does. When it is 
 faid, J. Caefar fubdued Gaul, beat Pompey, changed 
 the Roman commonwealth," &c. Rel. of Nat. Sefi.v. 
 The fophiftry is apparent. Put Cato in the place of 
 Csefar ; and then fee whether that great man do not 
 Jive in his name,y#/?tf//W/y, that is, to good purpofe, 
 if the impreflion, which thofe t<wo immortal fy liable s make 
 on the mind, be ofufein exciting pollerity, or any one 
 man, to the love and imitation of Caw's virtue. 
 
 Who
 
 126 P O E M S O F 
 
 Who his to-morrow would beftow 
 For all old Homer's life, e'er fmce he died, till now. 
 
 ^^ 
 
 XVII. 
 
 On the Death of Mrs. CATHARINE 
 PHILIPS [*']. 
 
 CRUEL difeafe ! ah, could it not fuffice 
 Thy old and conftant fpight to exercife 
 Againft the gentleft and the faireft fex, 
 Which ftill thy depredations moft do vex ? 
 
 Where ftill thy malice moft of all 
 (Thy malice or thy luft) does on the faireft fall ? 
 And in them moft aflault the faireft place, 
 The throne of emprefs beauty, ev'n the face ? 
 There was enough of that here to aflwage 
 (One would have thought) either thy luft or rage; 
 Was't not enough, when thou, prophane difeafe, 
 
 Didft on this glorious temple feize 3 
 
 [/] This poem is preferved, in honour of the lady, 
 here celebrated, who had the fortune to be equally 
 efteemed by the bell poet and beft divine of her age. 
 
 Was't
 
 MR. A. COWL EY. 187 
 
 Was't not enough, like a wild zealot, there, 
 AH the rich outward ornaments to tear, 
 Deface the innocent pride of beauteous images ? 
 Was't not enough thus rudely to defile, 
 But thou muft quite deftroy, the goodly pile ? 
 And thy unbounded facrilege commit 
 On th' inward holieft holy [] of her wit ? 
 Cruel difeafe ! there thou miftook'ft thy power : 
 
 No mine of death can that devour ; 
 On her embalmed name it will abide 
 
 An everlafting pyramide, 
 
 as heav'n the top, as earth the bafis wide. 
 
 2. 
 
 All ages pad record, all countries now, 
 In various kinds, fuch equal beauties fhow, 
 
 Thatev'n judge Paris [/] would not 
 On whom the golden apple to beftow ; 
 Though goddefles to his fentence did fubmit, 
 Women and lovers would appeal from it : 
 "Nor durft he fay, of all the female race, 
 
 This is the fovereign face. 
 
 [*] holieft holy} I wifh the poet had forborn this 
 gllufion. 
 
 [/] judge Paris] Familiar, again, or rather bur- 
 lefque; quite out of feafon. 
 
 And
 
 &S -.-.,. P O E M S O F 
 
 And Come (though thefe be of a kind that's rare, 
 That's much, ah, much lefs frequent, than the fair) 
 So equally renown'd for virtue are, 
 That it the mother of the gods might pofe, 
 When the beft woman for her guide fhe chofe [raj. 
 
 But, if Apollo fhould defign 
 
 A woman laureat to make, 
 Without difpute he would Orinda take, 
 
 Though Sappho and the famous Nine 
 Stood by, and did repine. 
 
 To be a princefs or a queen, 
 Is great ; but 'tis a greatnefs always feen ; 
 The world did never but two women know, 
 Who, one by fraud, th' other by wit, did rife 
 To the two tops offpiritual dignities [] 
 One female pope of old, one female poet now. 
 
 [/] Alluding to the introduction of the ftatueof Cy~ 
 lele into Rome : Liv. 1. xxix. The goddefs, indeed, 
 had a long train of Roman matrons for her attendants- 
 But, as the hiftorian tells the ftory, Ihe chofe the bejt man 
 in Rome forlier heft ; not the I>ejt woman, for her guide. 
 Whether the poet forgot himfelf, or purpofely falsified 
 the ftory for the fake of his application, I know not, 
 
 W Spirited dignities'} The Englifh word, Spiritual, 
 as applied to dignities, means religious orecchfiaftical, in 
 oppofition to civil or temporal. But the French word, 
 fpirituel, of like found, means, alfo, -witty orintelltftual. 
 Hence the e^iti-^cctic ; with which our poet was not a lit- 
 
 3. Of
 
 MR. A. COWLEY. 
 
 Of female poets, who had names of old, 
 Nothing is fhown, but only told ; 
 And all we hear of them perhaps may be 
 Male-flattery only, and male-poetry. 
 Few minutes did their beauties lightning waftc, 
 The thunder of their voice did longer laft, 
 
 But that, too, foon was paft. 
 The certain proofs of our Orinda's wit, 
 In her own lafting characters are writ ; 
 And they will long my praife of them furvive, 
 Though long perhaps, too, that may live. 
 The trade of glory manag'd by the pen, 
 Though great it be, and every where is found, 
 Does bring in but fmall profit to us men; 
 'Tis by the number of thefharers drown'd. 
 Orinda, on the female coafts of fame, 
 Ingrofles all the goods of a poetic name : 
 
 tie pleafed, as we may fee by his repetition of it, in, the 
 Complaint, St. ii. 
 
 " Among the fpiritual lords of peaceful fame." 
 He forgot, on this and other occafions, his own de- 
 finition of true wit by negatives 
 
 " 'Tis not, when two like word; make up one noife. " 
 
 St. ii. 6. 
 
 1 She
 
 f^o POEMS OF 
 
 She does no partner with her fee; 
 Does all the bufmefs there alone, which we 
 Are forc'd to carry on by a whole company. 
 
 But wit's like a luxuriant vine ; 
 
 Unlefs to virtue's prop it join, 
 
 Firm and ereft towards heaven bound : 
 Though it with beauteous leaves and pleafant fruit 
 
 be crown'd, 
 It lies deform'd, and rotting on the ground. 
 
 Now fhame and blufhes on us all, 
 
 Who our own fex fuperior call ! 
 Orinda does our boafting fex out-do, 
 Not in wit only, but in virtue too. 
 She does above our beft examples rife, 
 In hate of vice, and fcorn of vanities. 
 Never did fpirit of the manly make, 
 And dipt all o'er in learning's facred lake, 
 A temper more invulnerable take. 
 No violent paffion could an entrance find, 
 Into the tender goodnefs of her mind : 
 Through walls of ftone thofe furious bullets may 
 
 Force their impetuous way j 
 When her foft breaft they hit, powerlefs and dead 
 they lay. 
 
 5- The
 
 M R. A. C O W L E Y. 
 
 The fame of friendfhip [o], which fo long had told 
 Of three or four illuftrious names of old, 
 Till hoarfe and weary with the tale fhe grew, 
 Rejoices now t' have got a new, 
 A new, and more furprizing ftory, 
 Of fair Leucafia's and Orinda's glory. 
 As when a prudent man does once perceive 
 That in fome foreign country he muft live, 
 The language and the manners he does ftrive 
 To underftand and pra&ice here, 
 That he may come, no ftranger there ; 
 So well Orinda did herfelf prepare, 
 In this much different clime, for her remove 
 To the glad world of poetry and love. 
 
 [o] *Tbefame of friend/hip] Mrs. Philips was as much 
 famed for her friend/hips, as for her poetry. Dr. J. 
 Taylor addrefled his difcourfe on the nature and offices of 
 fnendjhip, to this lady. 
 
 
 XVIII. HYMN.
 
 POEMS OF 
 
 H 
 
 TO I, I G H T 0]. 
 
 IRST-born of Chaos, who fo fair didft coma 
 From the old Negro's darkfome womb ! 
 Which when it faw the lovely child, 
 The melancholy mafs put on kind looks, and 
 fmil'd, 
 
 1. 
 
 Thou tide of glory, which no reft doft know, 
 But ever ebb, and ever flow ! 
 Thou golden fhower of a true Jove ! 
 Who does in thee defcend, and heaven to earth 
 make love ! 
 
 [p] The moral ftrokes in this hymn amply atone for 
 
 the falfe wit and quaint imagery, in which it too much 
 
 abounds. It was the malady of that age, to be only taken, 
 
 " With glitt'ring thoughts flruck out atev'ry line:" 
 
 Pope. 
 
 And the abundance of Mr, Cowley's wit made it but 
 too eafy for him to regale the vitiated tafte of his 
 readers with this fort of entertainment. 
 
 3. Hail,
 
 MR. A. COWL EY. 193 
 
 3- 
 
 Hail, a&ive nature's watchful life and health ! 
 
 Her joy, her ornament, and wealth ! 
 
 Hail to thy hufband, Heat, and thee ! 
 Thou, the world's beauteous bride ! the lufty 
 bridegroom, he ! 
 
 Say, from what golden quivers of the fky, 
 
 Do all thy winged arrows fly ? 
 
 Swiftnefs and Power by birth are tiiine : 
 From thy great fire they came ; thy fire, the 
 Word Divine. 
 
 'Tis, I believe, this archery to fhow, 
 That fo much coft in colours thou 
 And fkill in painting doft beftow 
 
 Upon thy ancient arms, the gawdy heavenly bow. 
 
 Swift as light thoughts their empty carriere run, 
 
 Thy race is finifh'd, when begun ; 
 VOL. I. O Let
 
 94 P O E M S O F 
 
 Let a poft-angcl ftart with thee [j], 
 And thou the goal of earth (halt reach, as foon as he. 
 
 Thou, in the moon's bright chariot proud and gay, 
 Doft thy bright wood of ftars furvey ; 
 And all the year doft with thee bring 
 
 Of thoufand flowery lights thine own nocturnal 
 fpring. 
 
 8. 
 
 Thou, Scythian-like, doft round thy lands above 
 The fun's gilt tent for ever move, 
 And ftill, as thou in pomp doft go, 
 ' The fhining pageants of the world attend thylhow. 
 
 9- 
 
 Nor, amidft all thefe triumphs, doft thou fcorn 
 The humble glow-worms to adorn, 
 
 [?] poft-angel Jiart with thee} One of the moft 
 glaring faults in the poetry of Mr. Cowley's age was the 
 debafing of great fentiments and images by low allufion s 
 and vulgar expreffions. What the reader looked for, was 
 wit ; and he looked no farther : as if that rule of com- 
 mon fenfe had been a difcovery of yefterday 
 " Expreflicn is the drefs of thought, and ftill 
 " $PP 2 rs niore decent, as more/uita&Je." 
 
 Pope, Eflay on Crit, ver. 318. 
 And
 
 MR. A. COWLfcY. 19$ 
 
 And with thofe living fpangles gild 
 ( O greatnefs without pride ! ) the bufhes of the field. 
 
 1C. 
 
 Night, and her ugly fubje6h[r], thou doft fright, 
 And Sleep, the lazy^owl of night ; 
 Afham'd and fearful to appear 
 
 They fkreen their horrid fhapes with the black 
 hemifpherc. 
 
 If* 
 
 With 'em there haftes., and wildly takes the alarm, 
 Of painted dreams, ibufy fwarm ; 
 At the firft opening of thine eye, 
 
 The various clufters break, the antic atoms fly. 
 
 [r] Night, and ' ber ugly fuljefts, &c.] 
 " Night and all her fiokly dews, 
 
 " Her fpeclres wan," &c. 
 
 Mr. Gray, in The progrefs ofpoefy. 
 This excellent writer, not unfrequently, alludes topaf- 
 fages in Mr. Cowley, whcfe manners and genius much 
 refembled his own. Both charm us with thejpleen of 
 virtue : and bpth were equally qualified, by the gifts of 
 nature, to adorn the nobler, and the more fauulia r 
 poetry. The tafte, the execution, the fuccefs, were 
 happily on the fide of our late poet. 
 
 O 2 12. The
 
 j 9 6 P O E M S O F 
 
 12. 
 
 The guilty ferpents, and obfcener beafts y 
 Creep confcious to their fecret refts ; 
 Nature to thee does reverence pay, 
 
 111 omens and ill fights removes out of thy way [* 
 
 At thy appearance, Grief itfelf is faid 
 
 To (hake his wings, and roufe his head ; 
 And cloudy Care has often took 
 
 A gentle beamy fmile reflected from thy look. 
 
 14. 
 At thy appearance, Fear itfelf grows bold ; 
 
 Thy fun-lhine melts away his cold. 
 
 Encourag'd at the fight of thee, 
 To the cheek colour comes, and firmnefs to the knee* 
 
 Even Luft, the mafter of a harden'd face, 
 JBlufhes, if thou beeft in the place ; 
 
 [j] III omens and ill fights removes out of thy ivay.J, 
 Alluding to the old Roman fuperftition, which an- 
 atioufly provided, when a great general marched out of 
 the city, that no inaufpicious objeft fhould obftrucl: or 
 pollute his paflage. 
 
 To
 
 MR. A. COWL EY. 197 
 
 To Darknefs' curtains he retires^ 
 In fympathizing night he rowls his fmoaky fires. 
 
 16. 
 
 When, goddefs, thou lift'ft up thy waken'd head 
 Out of the morning's purple bed, 
 Thy choir of birds about thee play, 
 
 And all the joyful world falutes the rifmg day. 
 
 The ghofts, and monfter fpirits, that did prefume 
 
 A body's privilege to afTume, 
 
 Vanifti again invifibly, 
 And bodies gain again their vifibility. 
 
 18. 
 
 All the world's bravery, that delights our eyes, 
 Is but thy feveral liveries : 
 Thou the rich dye on theml beftoweft ; 
 Thy nimble pencil paints this landfkip, as thou 
 goeft. 
 
 19. 
 
 A crimfon garment in the rofe thou wear'ft ; 
 A crown of ftudded gold thou bear'ft [/] ; 
 
 [t] A crtnun of ftudded gold thou tear'Jt] In the 
 
 flower ib called, or Crown Imperial. The name of the 
 
 O 3 The
 
 198 POEMS OF 
 
 The virgin lilies, in their white, 
 Are clad but with the lawn of almoft naked light, 
 
 20. 
 
 The violet, fpring's little infant, ftands 
 Girt in thy purple fwadling-bands : 
 On the fair tulip thou doft doat ; 
 Thou cloath'ft it in a gay and party-colour'd 
 coat []. 
 
 21. 
 
 With fkme condens'd thou doft the jewels fix, 
 
 And folid colours in it mix : 
 . Flora herfelf envies, to fee 
 Flowers fairer than her own, and durable as Ihe. 
 
 22. 
 Ah, goddefs ! would thou could'ft thy hand with' 
 
 hold, 
 
 And be lefs liberal to gold ; 
 Did'ft thou lefs value to it give, 
 Of how much care (alas) might'ft thou poor man 
 relieve ! 
 
 &otw,and of its bearing, being the fame, he could not 
 well exprefs them both. Yet, in the conneaion which 
 this line has with the foregoing, the mention of one only, 
 has an ill effeft. 
 
 [] Prettily alluding to Jofeph s coat of many colours , 
 
 Gen. xxxvii. 3, 4. 
 
 23. To
 
 MR. A. COWL EY. 199 
 
 23- 
 
 To me, the fun [w~\ is more delightful far, 
 And all fair days much fairer are. 
 But few, ah wondrous few there be, 
 
 Who do not gold prefer, o goddefs, ev'n to thee. 
 
 24. 
 
 Through the foft ways of heaven, and air, and fea, 
 Which open all their pores to thee ; 
 Like a clear river, thou doft glide, 
 And with thy living ftream through the clofe chan- 
 nels flide, 
 
 25. 
 But where firm bodies thy free courfe oppofe, 
 
 Gently thy fource the land o'erflows ; 
 
 Takes there pofleflion, and does make, 
 Of colours mingled, light, a thick and {landing lake. 
 
 26. 
 
 But the vaft ocean of unbounded day 
 In th' empyrean heaven does ftay. 
 
 [tv] To me the fun] An inimitable ftanza, in which 
 the whole foul of the poet comes out, and fhines through 
 the purefl and cleareft expreffion : . like one of the 
 virgin-lilies, he before celebrates, 
 
 " clad --with the la<wn of almojl naked light." 
 
 O 4 Thy
 
 200 P O E M S O F 
 
 Thy rivers, lakes, and fprings below 
 From thence took firft their rife, thither at laft muft 
 flow. 
 
 y&&&^^ 
 
 XIX. 
 To the ROYAL SOCIETY [#]. 
 
 i. 
 
 PHILOSOPHY, the great and only heir 
 Of all Lhat human knowledge,which has been 
 Unforfeited by man's rebellious fin, 
 
 Though full of years he do appear, 
 (Philofophy, I fay, and call it, He, 
 For, whatfoe'er the painter's fancy be, 
 
 It a male-virtue feems to me) 
 Has ftill been kept in nonage till of late, 
 Nor manag'd or enjoy'd his vaft eftate : 
 
 [*] This poem (be/ides its intrinfic merit) is entitled 
 to a place in this collection, from the relation it has to the 
 Propcjitionfor the advancement of 'experimental philosophy ; 
 which the reader will find in the end of this volume. It 
 gives, too, an amiable pifture of the poet's mind, in the 
 concluding panegyric on his friend, Dr. Sprat, who had 
 written the hiltory of the Royal Society. 
 
 Three
 
 M R. A. C O W L E Y. 201 
 
 t 
 Three or four thoufand years, one would have 
 
 thought, 
 To ripenefs and perfection might have brought 
 
 A fcience fo well bred and nurs'd'[_y], 
 And of fuch hopeful parts too at the firft. 
 But, oh, the guardians and the tutors then, 
 (Some negligent, and fome ambitious men) 
 
 Would ne'er confent to fet him free, 
 Or his own natural powers to let him fee, 
 Left that fhould put an end to their authority. 
 
 2. 
 
 > 
 
 That his own bufmefs he might quite forget, 
 They' amu'd him with the fports of wanton wit, 
 With the ucflerts of poetry they fed him [z], 
 Inftead of folid meats t' increafe his force ; 
 Inftead of vigorous exercife, they led him 
 
 [y] A fcience fo ive II bred and nun V] By Pythagoras 
 and Democritus. 
 
 [z] With the de/erts of poetry they fed him] Much of 
 the ancient philofophy, was only a lufcious mythology. 
 The way of accounting for a.natural phenomenon, was 
 to tell a pleafant itory. 1 fuppofe, the author had efpe- 
 cially in view Lord Bacon's Sapientia veterum, where 
 that wife man amufed himfelf and others <witb tk 
 /ports of wanton wit. 
 
 Into
 
 202 P O E M S O F 
 
 Into the pleafant labyrinths of ever-frefh dif- 
 courfe [a]. 
 
 Inftead of carrying him to fee 
 The riches which do hoarded for him lie 
 
 In nature's endlefs treafury, 
 
 They chofe his eye to entertain 
 
 (His curious, but not covetous eye []) 
 With painted fcenes, and pageants of the brain [/]. 
 Some few exal ted fpirits[//]this latter age has fhown, 
 That labour'd to aflert the liberty 
 (From guardians, who were now ufurpers grown) 
 Of this old minor ftill, captiv'd philofophy ; 
 
 But 'twas rebellion call'd, to fight 
 
 For fuch a long-opprefied right. 
 
 \a~\ Into tbs pleafant labyrinths of e ! uer-frejb difcourfe~\ 
 The Phonic fchool, which joined eloquence to philofophy. 
 
 [] His curious, but net covetous eye] i. e. ingenious 
 Speculation, and not ufe, was the objedl of that philo- 
 &phy. 
 
 [<] -pageants of the brain'] The peripatetic fancies 
 
 " tricks to ihew the itretch of human brain." Pope. 
 
 [<f] Some fe<w exalted fpirits~\ P. Ramus, and his 
 followers, who laboured to affert the liberty of philofophy 
 from the ufurped dominion of the Ariitotelians ; men, 
 who, under colour of guarding the rights of the old 
 philofophy, tyrannized over reafon herfelf. 
 
 Bacon,
 
 MR. A. COWL EY. 203 
 
 Bacon, at laft, a mighty man, arofe, 
 \Vhom a wife king and nature chofe 
 Lord chancellor of both their laws, 
 
 And boldly undertook the injur'd pupil's caufe. 
 
 3- 
 
 Authority, which did a body boaft, 
 
 Though 'twas but air condens'd and ftalk'd about, 
 
 Like feme old giant's more gigantic ghoft, 
 
 To terrify the learned rout, 
 With the plain magic of true reafon's light, 
 
 He chac'd out of our fight, 
 Nor fuffer'd living men to be mifled 
 
 By the vain fhadows of the dead : 
 To graves, from whence it rofe,the conquer'd phan- 
 tom fled ; 
 
 From words, which are but pictures of the thought, 
 (Though we our thoughts from them perver fely drew) 
 To things, the mind's right object, he it brought - 
 Like foolifh birds, to painted grapes we flew ; 
 flc fought, and gather'd for our ufe, the true ; 
 
 [g] The reft of this ftanza is left out. 
 
 And, 
 
 J
 
 804 POEMSOF 
 
 And, when on heaps the chofen bunches lay, 1 
 He prefs'd them wifely, the mechanic way [f] y 
 Till all their juice did in one veflcl join, 
 Ferment into a nourifhment divine, 
 
 The thirfly foul's refrefhing wine. 
 Who to the life an exacl piece would make, 
 Muft not from others work a copy take [g] ; 
 
 No, not from Rubens or Vandike ; 
 Much lefs content himfelf to make it like 
 Th' ideas and the images, which lie 
 In his own fancy, or his memory [A], 
 ^-No, he before his fight muir.' place 
 
 JThe natural and living face [/'] ; 
 
 The real object muft command 
 Each judgement of his eye, and motion of his hand. 
 
 [/] the mechanic nvay"] i. e. in the way of experi- 
 ment. 
 
 \g\ M:ift not from others tvsrk a copy take~\ As Gailendi 
 did, whofe philofcphy is nothing more than a copy, a 
 fine one indeed, from that of Epicurus. ANOX. 
 
 [] Tb y ideas and the images, <vukicb lie 
 la his o<wn fancy, or his memory'] Meaning Des Cartes, 
 who went to work in this manner, and fpun a fubtle 
 cobweb theory out of his own brain. ANON. 
 
 [/'] The natural and living face] 
 
 " The naked nature and the living grace. " Pope. 
 
 5. From
 
 MR. A. COWLEY. 205 
 
 5- 
 
 From thefc, and all long errors of the way [/], 
 In which our wandering predeceflbrs went, 
 And, like th' old Hebrews, many years did ftray 
 
 In defarts but of fmall extent, 
 Bacon, like Mofes, led us forth at lail ; 
 
 The barren wildernefs he paft, 
 
 Did on the very border (land 
 
 Of the bleft promis'd land ; 
 And, from the mountain's top of his exalted wit, 
 
 Saw it himfelf, and fhev/'d us it. 
 But life did never to one man allow 
 Time to difcover worlds, and conquer too ; 
 Nor can fo fhort a line fufficient be 
 To fathom the vaft depths of nature's fea. 
 
 The work he did, we ought t'admire, 
 And were unjuft, if we fhould more require 
 From his few years, divided 'twixt th' excefs 
 Of low affliction, and high happinefs [/]. 
 
 [] errors of tie <waj] A beautiful Latinifin 
 
 "pelaginc venis erroribm aftus ?" Virg. /En. vi. 5 32. 
 
 "Sive errore o/;>, feu tempeftatibus a&i." Ib. vii. 199. 
 
 [/] 'twixt th' excej's 
 
 Of bnu affiSiicn and high happinefs} So expre/Ted, as 
 to convey not only the poet's idea of this fituatiou, 
 but hisfenfe of it. 
 
 I For
 
 4o6 POEMS OF 
 
 Tor who on things remote can fix his fightj 
 That's always in a triumph, or a fight ? 
 
 From you, great champions, we expect to get 
 Thefe fpacious countries, but difcover'd yet j 
 Countries, where yet, inftead of nature, we 
 Her images and idols worfhip'd fee : 
 Thefe large and wealthy regions to fubdue, 
 Though learning has whole armies at command, 
 
 Quarter'd about in every land, 
 A better troop flie ne'er together drew. 
 Methinks, like Gideon's little band, 
 God with defign has pick'd out you, 
 To do thefe noble wonders by a few : 
 When the whole hoft he faw, they are (faid he) 
 Too many to o'ercome for me ; 
 And now he chufes out his men, 
 Much in the way. that he did then : 
 Not thofe many, whom he found 
 Idly, extended on the ground, 
 To drink with their dejected head 
 The ftream, juft fo as by their mouths it fled ; 
 
 No, but thofe few, who took the waters up, 
 And made of their laborious hands the cup. 
 
 7. Thus
 
 MR. A. COWL EY, to? 
 
 7- 
 Thus you prepar'd ; and in the glorious fight 
 
 Their wondrous pattern too [m] you' take : 
 Their old and empty pitchers firft they brake, 
 And with their hands then lifted up the light. 
 
 lo ! found too the trumpets here ! 
 Already your victorious lights appear ; 
 New fcenes of heaven already we efpy, 
 And crowds of golden worlds on high ; 
 Which, from the fpacious plains of earth and fea, 
 
 Could never yet difcover'd be 
 By failors or Chaldaeans watchful eye. 
 Nature's great works no diftance can obfcure ; 
 No fmallnefs her near objects can fecure ; 
 
 Ye have taught the curious fight to prefe 
 
 Into the privateft recefs 
 Of her imperceptible littlenefs. 
 
 Ye have learn'd to read her fmalleft hand, 
 And well begun her deepeft fcnfe to underftand. 
 
 8. 
 
 Mifchief and true difhonour fall on thofe, 
 Who would to laughter or to fcorn [n~\ expofi? 
 
 [m] Their wcndrcitf pattern too] His lavifti wit never 
 knows. when to have done with an allufion. 
 
 [//] to laughter or to fcorn] It is not to be conceived 
 
 So
 
 .208 POEMS OF 
 
 So virtuous and fo noble a defign, 
 
 So human for its ufe, for knowledge fo divine. 
 
 The things, which thefe proud men defpife,and-call 
 
 Impertinent and vain, and fmall, 
 Thofe fmalleft things of nature let me know, 
 Rather than all their greateft actions do. 
 Whoever would depofed truth advance 
 
 Into the throne ufurp'd from it, 
 Muft feel at lirft the blows of ignorance, 
 
 And the fharp points of envious wit. 
 So when, by various turns of the celeftial dance, 
 
 In many thoufand years 
 
 A ftar, fo long unknown appears, 
 Though heaven itfelf more beauteous by it grow, 
 It troubles and alarms the world below, 
 Does to the wife a ftar, to fools a meteor, fhow. 
 
 With courage and fuccefs you the bold work begin ; 
 Your cradle has not idle been : 
 
 what ridicule this fociety drew upon itfelf from the wit* 
 on its firft inftitution 
 
 " But fenfe furviv'd, when merry jells were part ; 
 
 ' For rifing merit will buoy up at laft." Pope. 
 
 None
 
 M R. A. C O W L E Y. 20^ 
 
 None e'er but Hercules and you, could be 
 At five years age worthy a hiftory. 
 
 And ne'er did fortune better yet 
 
 Th' hiftorian [0] to the ftory fit ; 
 
 As you from all old errors free 
 And purge the body of philofophy j 
 
 So from all modern follies he 
 Has vindicated eloquence and wit. 
 His candid ftyle, like a clean ftream, does flide D 
 
 And his bright. fancy all the way 
 
 Does like the fun-fhine in it play ; 
 It does, like Thames, the .beft of rivers, glide, 
 Where the god does not rudely overturn, 
 
 But gently pour, the cryftal urn, 
 And with judicious hand does the whole current 
 
 guide. 
 
 'T has all the beauties, .nature can impart, 
 And all the comely drefs, without the paint of art. 
 
 [o] Dr. Sprat. 
 
 VOL. I. P XX, THE
 
 P O E M S O F 
 
 XX. 
 THE COMPLAINT 
 
 *T N a deep vifion's intelle6r.ua! fcene, 
 Beneath a bower for forrow made 
 
 Th' uncomfortable fhade,,. 
 Of the black yew's unlucky green, 
 MIx'd with the mourning willow's careful grey 4 
 Where Veverend Cam cuts out his famous way* 
 
 The melancholy Cowley lay : 
 And lo ! a Mufe appear'd to his clos'd fight, 
 (The Mufes oft in lands of vifion play) 
 Bodied, array'd, and feen by an internal light. 
 
 [/] The plan of this poem is highly poetical : and^ 
 though the numbers be not the moll pleafing, the ex- 
 prefiion is almoft every where natural and beautiful. 
 But its principal charm is that air of melancholy,throwa 
 over the whole, fo expreflive of the poet's character. 
 
 The addrefs of the writer is feen in conveying his juft 
 reproaches on the court , under a pretended vindication 
 cf it againft the Mufe. 
 
 A gol-
 
 MR. A. COWLEY. iit 
 
 A golden harp, with filver firings, fhebore ; 
 A wondrous hieroglyphic robe (he wore, 
 In which all colours and all figures were, 
 That nature or that fancy can create, 
 
 That art can never imitate ; 
 And with l:>ofe pride it wanton'd in the air. 
 In fuch a drefs, in fuch a well-cloath'd dream, 
 She us'd,of old, near fair Ifmenus' ftream, 
 Pindar her Theban favourite to meet ; 
 A crown was on her head, and wings were on her 
 feet. 
 
 2. 
 She touch'd him with her harp, and rr.is'd him 
 
 from the ground ; 
 The fhaken firings melodioufly refound. 
 
 Art thou return'd at laft, faid fhe, 
 
 To thi ; forfaken place and me ? , 
 
 Thou prodigal, who did.t fo loofely wafte 
 Of all'thy youthful years, the good cftate - t 
 Art thou return'd here, to repent too 1 
 And gather hufks of learning up at laft, 
 Now the rich harveft-time of life is pail, 
 
 And winter inarches on fo fail ? 
 But, when I meant t' adopt thee for my fon^ 
 And did as learn'd a portion affign, 
 As ever any of the mighty Nine 
 
 Had to their deareft children done 5 
 
 P 2 Whert
 
 i3 P O E M S O F 
 
 When I refolv'd t* exalt thy' anointed name, 
 Among the fpiritual lords [q] of peaceful fame ; 
 Thou changeling, thou, bewitch'd with noife and 
 
 fhow, 
 
 Wouldft into courts and cities from me go ; 
 Wouldft fee the world abroad, and have a fhare 
 In all the follies and the tumults there, 
 Thou wouldft, forfooth, be fomething in a ftate, 
 And bufinefs thou wouldft find,and wouldft create; 
 
 Bufinefs ! the frivolous pretence 
 Of human lufts, to fhake off innocence ; 
 
 Bufinefs ! the grave impertinence : 
 Bufinefs ! the thing which I of all things hate, 
 JBufmefs ! the contradiction of thy fate. 
 
 Go, renegade, caft up thy account, 
 
 And fee to what amount 
 Thy foolifh gains by quitting me : 
 The fale of knowledge, fame, and liberty, 
 The fruits of thy unlearn'd apoftacy. 
 
 [ ? ] Spiritual Lords] Alluding to the ftyle of the 
 Houfe of Lords the Lords Spiritual and Temporal, B at 
 fee the note QTI fpiritual dignities t p. 1 88. 
 
 Thou
 
 MR. A. COWLEY. 21 j 
 
 Thou thought'ft , i f once the publ ic {farm were paft, 
 All thy remaining life mould fun-mine be : 
 Behold, the public florm is fpent at laft, 
 The fovereign is toft at fea no more, 
 And thou, with all the noble company, 
 
 Art got at laft to fhore. 
 But, whilft thy fellow-voyagers I fee 
 All march'd up to poffefs the promis'd land, 
 Thou ftill alone (alas) doft gaping ftand, 
 Upon the naked beach, upon the barren fund. 
 
 As a fair morning of the blefled fpring, 
 
 After a tedious ftormy night; 
 Such was the glorious entry of our king, 
 Enriching moifture drop'd on every thing : 
 Plenty he fow'd below, and caft about him light. 
 
 But then (alas) to thee alone, 
 One of old Gideon's miracles was mown : 
 For every tree, and every herb around, 
 
 With pearly dew was crown'd, 
 And upon all the quicken'd ground, 
 The fruitful feed of heaven did brooding lie ; 
 And nothing but the Mufe's fleece was dry. 
 
 It did all other threats furpafs, 
 When God to his own people faid, 
 
 P 3 (The
 
 j^ P O E M S O F 
 
 (The men, whom through long wanderings he 
 
 had led) 
 
 That he would give them ev'n a heaven of brafs : 
 They loolc'd up to that heaven in vain, 
 That bounteous heaven,whichGod did notreftrain, 
 Upon the moil unjuft to fhine and rain. 
 
 The Rachel [r], for which twice feven years and 
 more, 
 
 Thou didft with faith and labour ferve, 
 And didit. (if faith and labour can) deferve, 
 
 Though fhe contracted was to thee, 
 
 Giv'n to another thou didft fee ; 
 
 GLv'n to another, who had ftore 
 Of fairer, and of richer wives, before ; 
 And not a Leah left, thy recompence to be. 
 Go on, twice feven years more, thy fortune try ; 
 Twice feven years more, God in his bounty may 
 
 Give thee, to fling away 
 Into the court's deceitful lottery, 
 
 But think how likely 'tis, that thou, 
 With the dull work of thy unweildy plough, 
 
 [>] The Rachel] The mafterfhip of the Savoy. 
 
 Shouldft
 
 MR. A. COWL EY. 215 
 
 Shouldft in a hard and barren feafon thrive, 
 
 Shouldft even able be to live ; 
 Thou, to whofe fhare fo little bread did fall, 
 In the miraculous year, when manna rain'd on all. 
 
 6. 
 
 Thus fpake the Mufe, and fpake it with a fmile, 
 That feem'd at once to pity and revile. 
 And to her thus, raifing his thoughtful head, 
 
 The melancholy Cowley faid j 
 
 Ah wanton foe, doft thou upbraid 
 
 The ills, which thou thyfelf haft made ? 
 When, in the cradle, innocent I lay, 
 Thou, wicked fpirit, ftoleft me away, 
 
 And my abufed foul didft bear 
 Into thy new-found worlds, I know not where, 
 
 Thy golden Indies in the air : 
 
 And ever fmce I ftrive in vain 
 
 My ravifh'd freedom to regain ; 
 
 Still I rebel, ftill thou doft reign ; 
 Lo, ftill in verfe againft thee I complain. 
 
 There is a fort of ftubborn weeds, 
 Which, if the earth but once it ever breeds, 
 
 No wholefome herb can near them thrive, 
 
 No ufeful plant can keep alive : 
 
 P 4 The
 
 <2tf POEMSOP 
 
 The foolifh fports I did on thee beftow, 
 Make all my art and labour fruitlefs now ; 
 Where once fuch Fairies dance, no grafs [j] doth 
 ever grow. 
 
 7- 
 
 When my new mind had no infufion known, 
 Thou gav'il fo deep a tindture of thine own, 
 
 That ever fmce I vainly try 
 
 To warn away th' inherent dye : 
 Long work perhaps may fpoil thy colours quite, 
 But never will reduce the native white : 
 
 To all the ports of honour and of gain 
 
 I often fleer my courfe in vain ; 
 Thy gale comes crofs, and drives me back again. 
 Thou flack'neft all my nerves ofinduftry, 
 
 By making them fo oft to be 
 The tinkling firings of* thy loofe minftrelfy. 
 
 [s] no grafs\ \. e. no grafs which turns to profit. 
 The poet alludes, in this verfe, to the four ringlets, 
 which are fometimes found in p.ifture-grounds, and, ac- 
 cording to the philofophy of the country -people, are oc? 
 cafioned by fairies dancing upon them. He had pro* 
 bably his eye on that fine paflage of Shakefpear, 
 
 " ye demy-puppets, that 
 
 '* By moon-fhine do the green four ringlets make, 
 
 Whereof the ewe not bites" 
 
 Tempeft, A&v. S. ii. 
 Whoever
 
 MR. A. COW LEY. 217 
 
 Whoever this world's happinefs would fee, 
 Muft as entirely caft off thee, 
 As they, who only heaven defirc, 
 
 Do from the world retire. 
 This was my error, this my grofs miftake, 
 Myfelf a demy-votary to make. 
 Thus, with Sapphira and her hufband's fate, 
 (A fault which I, like them, am taught too late) 
 For all that I give up, I nothing gain, 
 And perifh for the part which I retain. 
 
 8, 
 
 Teach me not, then, o thou fallacious Mufe, 
 
 The court, and better king [/], t' accufe ; 
 The heaven, under which I live, is fair; 
 The fertile foil will a full harveft bear; 
 Thine, thine, is all the barrennefs ; if thou 
 Mak'ft me fit ftill and {ing, when I fhould plough : 
 
 [t] letter king] i.e. tetter in his own nature, than 
 the court [his minifters] would allow him to be. The 
 fuppo/ition was decent, but not true. The minifter of 
 that time \vas juft, nay generou?, to our poet. [See Lord 
 Clarendon's Life, Par: i. 1 6.] But, unluckily, the poet's 
 patrons were the minilter's moil determined enemies. 
 In the mean time, the better king cared neither for the 
 jniniiler, nor l he poet. 
 
 When
 
 zi8 P O E M S, &c. 
 
 When I but think, how many a tedious year 
 Our patient fovereign did attend 
 His long misfortunes' fatal end ! 
 How chearfully, and how exempt from fear, 
 On the great Sovereign's will he did depend j 
 I ought to be accurs'd, if I refufe 
 To wait on his, o thou fallacious Mufe ! 
 Kings have longhands (they fay) ; and though I be 
 So diftant, they may reach at length to me. 
 
 However, of all princes, thou 
 Should'ft not reproach rewards, for being fmall 
 
 or flow; 
 
 Thou, who rewardeft but with popular breath, 
 And that too, after death. 
 
 END OF THE POEMS. 
 
 *x<9Mtadgo<$K4x^ 
 
 iz A EON HMIEY DANTOZ. 
 
 A PRO-
 
 A 
 
 PROPOSITION 
 
 FOR 
 
 The ADVANCEMENT of EXPERT 
 MENTAL PHILOSOPHY [a]. 
 
 THE COLLEGE. 
 
 >~pHAT the philofophical college be 
 *- fituated within one, two, or (at far- 
 theft) three miles of London ; and, if it 
 
 [] Ingenious men delight in dreams of reforma- 
 tion. In comparing this Proportion of Cowley, with 
 that of Milton, addrefled to Mr. Hartlib, we find that 
 thefe great poets had amufed themfelves with fome 
 exalted, and, in the main, congenial fancies, on the 
 fubjecl of education : that, of the two plans, propofed, 
 this of Mr. Cowley was better digefted, and is the /<;/} 
 fanciful ; if a preference, in this refped, can be given 
 to either, when both are manifeftly Utopian : and that 
 our univerfities, in their prefent form, are well enough 
 calculated to an fwer all the reafonable endsoffuch 
 inftitutions ; provided we allow for the unavoidable 
 defefts of them, when drawn out into praftice. 
 
 be
 
 220 THE "ADVANCEMENT OF 
 
 be poffible to find that convenience, upon 
 the fide of the river, or very near it. 
 
 That the revenue of this college amount 
 to four thoufand pounds a year. 
 
 That the company received into it be as 
 follows : 
 
 j. Twenty philofophers or profefibrs. 
 2. Sixteen young fcholars, fervants to the 
 profeflbrs. 3. A chaplain. 4. A bailiff 
 for the revenue. 5. A manciple or pur- 
 veyor for the ptovifions of the houfe. 6. 
 Two gardeners. 7. A mafter-cook. 8. 
 An under-cook. 9. A butler. 10. An 
 under-butler. u.Afurgeon. 12. Two 
 lungs, or chemical fervants. 13. A library- 
 keeper, who is likewife to be apothecary, 
 druggift, and keeper of inftruments, en- 
 gines, &c. 14. An officer, to feed and 
 take care of all beafts, fowl, &c. kept by 
 the college. 15. A groom of the (table. 
 1 6. A melfenger, to fend up and down for 
 all ufes of the college. 1 7. Four old wo- 
 men, to tend the chambers, keep the houfe 
 clean, and fuch like fervices. 
 
 That
 
 EXPERIMENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 221 
 
 That the annual allowance for this com- 
 pany be as follows : i. To every profeffor, 
 and to the chaplain, one hundred and 
 twenty pounds. 2. To the fixteen fcholars 
 twenty pounds apiece, ten pounds for their 
 diet, and ten pounds for their entertain- 
 ment. 3. To the bailiff, thirty pounds, 
 befides allowance for his journies. 4. To 
 the purveyor, or manciple, thirty pounds. 
 
 5. Toeachof the gardeners, twenty pounds. 
 
 6. To the m after- cook, twenty pounds. 
 
 7. To the under-cook, four pounds. 3. 
 To the butler, ten pounds. 9. To the 
 under-butler, four pounds. 10. To the 
 furgcon, thirty pounds. 1 1. To the library- 
 keeper, thirty pounds. 12. To each of 
 the lungs, twelve pounds. 13. To the 
 keeper of the beads, fix pounds. 14. To 
 the groom, five pounds. 15. To the mef- 
 ienger, twelve pounds. 16. To the four 
 neceffary women, ten pounds. For the 
 manciples table, at which all the fervants 
 of the houie are to eat, except the fcholars, 
 one hundred and fixty pounds. For three 
 
 horfes
 
 222 THE ADVANCEMENT OF 
 
 iiorfes for the fervice of the college, thirty 
 founds. 
 
 All which amounts to three thoufand 
 two hundred eighty-five pounds. So that 
 there remains, for keeping of the houfe and 
 gardens, and operatories, and initruments, 
 and animals, and experiments of all forts, 
 and all other expences, feven hundred and 
 fifteen pounds. 
 
 Which were a very inconfiderable fum 
 for the great ufes to which it is defigned, 
 but that I conceive the induftry of the col' 
 lege will in a fhort time fo enrich itfelf, as 
 to get a far better (lock for the advance 
 and enlargement of the work when it is once 
 begun : neither is the continuance of par- 
 ticular mens liberality to be defpaired of, 
 when it fmll be encouraged by the fight 
 of that public benefit which will accrue to 
 all mankind, and chiefly to our nation, by 
 this foundation. Something likewife will 
 arile fromjeaies and other cafualties; that 
 riothing of wfifch may be diverted to the 
 private gain of the profc-flbrs, or any other 
 
 ufe
 
 EXPERIMENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 225 
 
 ufe befides that of thefearch of nature, and 
 by it the general good of the world, and 
 that care may be taken for the certain per- 
 formance of all things ordained by the 
 inftitution, as likewife for the protection 
 and encouragement of the company, it is 
 propofed : 
 
 That fome perfon of eminent quality, a 
 lover of folid learning, and no ftranger in 
 it, be chofen chancellor or prefident of the 
 college i and that eight governors more, 
 men qualified in the like manner, be join- 
 ed with him, two of which (hall yearly be 
 appointed vifitors of the college, and re- 
 ceive an exact account cf all expences even 
 to the fmalleft, and of the true eftateof their 
 public treafure, under the hands and oaths 
 of the profeflbrs refident. 
 
 That the choice of profefibrs in any vacan- 
 cy belong to the chancellor and the gover- 
 nors-, but that the profcflprs; who are likeli- 
 eft to know what men of the nation are moft 
 proper for the duties of their tbciety) direct 
 tlirir choice, by recommencing twoor three 
 
 perfons
 
 224 THE ADVANCEMENT Of 
 
 perfons to them at every election : and 
 that, if any learned peribn within his ma- 
 jefty's dominions difcover,oreminently im- 
 prove, any ufeful kind of knowledge, he 
 may upon that ground, for his reward and 
 the encouragement of others, be preferred, 
 if he pretend to the place, before any body 
 elfe. 
 
 That the governors have power to turn 
 out any profeffor, who mall be proved to 
 be either fcandalous or unprofitable to 
 the fociety. 
 
 That the college be built after this, or 
 fome fuch manner : Thatitconfift of three 
 fair quadrangular courts, and thjcee large 
 grounds, inclofed with good walls behind 
 them. That the firil court be built with 
 a fair cloiPcer ; and the profeflbrs lodgings, 
 or rather little houfes, four oh each fide, at 
 fome diftance from one another, and with 
 little gardens behind them, juft after the 
 manner of the Chartreux beyond fea. That 
 the infide of the cloifter be lined with a 
 gravel-walk, and that walk with a^ouL-of 
 
 trees ;
 
 EXPERIMENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 225 
 
 trees ; and that in the middle there be a 
 parterre of Mowers and a fountain. 
 
 That the fecond quadrangle, juft behind 
 the firft, be fo contrived, as to contain thefe 
 pares. i. A chapel. 2. A hall, with 
 two long tables on each fide, for the fcholars 
 and officers of the houfe to eat at, and with 
 a pulpit and forms at the end for the pub- 
 lie lectures. 3. A large and pleafant dining- 
 room within the hall, for the profeflbrs to 
 eat in, and to hold their affemblies and 
 conferences. 4. 'A public fchool-houfe. 
 5. A library. 6. A gallery to walk in, 
 adorned with the pictures or fcatues of all 
 the inventors of any thing ufcful to hu- 
 man life ; as printing, guns, America, &c. 
 and of late in anatomy, the circulation of 
 the blood, the milky veins, and fuch like 
 difcoveries in any art, with fhort elogics 
 under the portraitures : as likewife the 
 figures of all forts of creatures, and the 
 ftuft Ikins of as many ftrange animals as 
 can be gotten. 7. An anato.rny^cjiaj3iher, 
 adorned with fkeletons and anatomical pic- 
 
 VOL. I. Q^ tures,
 
 2z6 THE ADVANCEMENT OF 
 
 turcs, and prepared with all conveniences 
 for difiection. 8. A chamber for all man- 
 ner of.jdrugs, and apothecaries mate- 
 rials. 9. A mathematical chamber, fur- 
 nimed with all forts of mathematical in- 
 ilruments, being an appendix to the library. 
 10. Lodgings for the chaplain, furgeon, 
 library-keeper, and purveyor, near the cha- 
 pel, anatomy- chamber, library, and hall. 
 
 That the third court be on one fide of 
 thefe, very large, but meanly built, being 
 ciefigned only for ufe, and not for 'beauty 
 too as the others. That it contain the 
 kitchen, butteries, brew-houfe,bake-houfe, 
 dairy, lardry, (tables, &c. and efpecially 
 great laboratories for chemical operations, 
 and lodgings for the under-fervants. 
 
 That behind the fecond court be placed 
 the garden, containing all forts of plants that 
 our foil will bear ; and at the end a little 
 houfe of pleafure, a lodge for the gardener, 
 and a grove of trees cut out into walks. 
 
 That the fecond inclofed ground be a 
 garden, deftined only to the trial of all 
 
 manner
 
 EXPERIMENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 227 
 
 manner of experiments concerning plants, 
 as their melioration, acceleration, retarda- 
 tion, confervation, composition, trarifmu- 
 tation, coloration, or whatfoever elfe can be 
 produced by art either for life or curio- 
 fity, with a lodge in it for the gardener. 
 
 That the third ground be employed in 
 convenient receptacles for all forts of crea- 
 tures which the profeflbrs (hall judge ne- 
 ceflary, for their more exact learch into 
 the nature of animals, and the improve- 
 ment of their ofes to us. 
 
 That there be likewiie built, in fome 
 place of the college where it may ferve 
 moll for ornament of the whole, a very 
 high tower for obfcrvaticn of releitial bo- 
 dies, adorned v/ith all forts of dials and 
 fuch like curiolities ; nnd rl.u't there be very 
 deep vaults made under ground, for experi- 
 ments moil proper to fuch places, which 
 will be undoubtedly very many. 
 
 Much might be added ; but truly I am 
 
 afraid this is too much already for the 
 
 rharity or generality of this age to extend 
 
 62 toj
 
 228 THE ADVANCEMENT OF 
 
 to ; and we do not defign this afcer the 
 model of Solomon's houfe in my Lord 
 Bacon (which is a project for experiments 
 that can never be experimented), but 
 propofe it within fuch bounds of expence 
 as have often been exceeded by the 
 buildings of private citizens. 
 
 OF THE PROFESSORS, SCHOLARS, CHAPLAIN, 
 AND OTHER OFFICERS. 
 
 THAT of the twenty profeffors four be 
 always travelling beyond feas, and fixteen 
 always refident, unlefs by permiffion upon 
 extraordinary occafions ; and every one fo 
 abfent, leaving a deputy behind him to 
 fu.pply his duties. 
 
 That the four profeflbrs itinerant be af- 
 ligned to the four parts of the world,. 
 Europe, Afia, Africa, and America, there 
 to refide three years at lead ; and to give a 
 conftant account of all things that belong 
 to the learning, and efpecially natural ex- 
 perimental philofophyj of thofe parts. 
 
 That
 
 EXPERIMENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 229 
 
 That the expence of all difpatches, and 
 all books, fimples, animals, ftones, metals, 
 minerals, &c. and all curiofities whatsoever, 
 natural or artificial, fent by them to the 
 college, fhall be defrayed out of the trea- 
 fury, and an additional allowance (above 
 the 1 20 /.) made to them as foon as the 
 college's revenue mall be improved. 
 
 That, at their going abroad, they mail 
 take a folemn oath, never to write any thing 
 to the college, but what, after very diligent 
 examination, they mail fully believe to be 
 true, and to confefs and recant it as foon 
 as they find themfelves in an error. . 
 
 That the fixteen profeflbrs refident mail 
 be bound to ftudy and teach all forts of 
 natural, experimental philofophy, to con- 
 fift of the mathematics, mechanics, medi- 
 cine, anatomy, chemiftry, the hiftory of 
 animals, plants, minerals, elements, &c. ; 
 agriculture, architecture, art military, na- 
 vigation, gardening ; the myfteries of all 
 trades, and improvement of. them ; the 
 fadhire of all merchandizes, all natural ma- 
 0.3 g j c
 
 230 THE ADVANCEMENT OP 
 
 gic or divination ; and briefly all things 
 contained in the catalogue of natural hiilo- 
 ries annexed to my Lord Bacon's Organon. 
 That once a day from Eafter till Mi- 
 chaeimas, and twice a week from Michael- 
 mas to Eafter, at the hours in the after- 
 noon molt convenient for auditors from 
 London, according to the time of the year, 
 there mall be a lecture read in the hall, 
 upon fuch parts of natural experimental 
 philofophy, as the profeiTors mall agree on 
 among themfelves, and as each of them 
 fhall be able to perform ufefully and ho- 
 nourably. 
 
 That two of the profeiTors, by daily, 
 weekly, or monthly turns, mail teach the 
 public fchools, according to the rules 
 hereafter prefcribed, 
 
 That all the profeffors fbali be equal irj 
 all refpccts (except precedency, choice of 
 lodging, and fuch like privileges, which 
 Iriall belong to ieniority in the college); and 
 that all fhall be mafters and treafurers by 
 annual turns, which two officers for the
 
 EXPERIMENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 231 
 
 time being (hall take place of all the reft, 
 and ihall be arbitri dtiarum menfarum. 
 
 That the matter fhall command all the 
 officers of the college, appoint afiemblies 
 or conferences upon occafion, and prefide 
 in them with a double voice j and in his 
 abfence the treafurer, whofe bufmefs is to 
 receive and difburfe all monies by the maf- 
 ter's order in writing (if it be an extraor- 
 dinary), after confent of the other pro- 
 feflbrs. 
 
 That all the profefibrs Ihall fup together 
 in the parlour within the hall every night, 
 and ihall dine there twice a week (to wit, 
 Sundays andThurfdays) at two round ta- 
 bles, for theconvenience of difcourfe, which 
 fhall be for the mod part of fuch matters 
 as may improve their ftudies and profef- 
 fions ; and to keep them from falling into 
 loofe or unprofitable talk, Ihall be the duty 
 of the two arbitri menfarum^ who may like- 
 wiie command any of the fervant-fcholars 
 to read to them what he mail think fit, 
 whilft they are at table: that it mall belong 
 QL4 like-
 
 232 THE ADVANCEMENT OF 
 
 likewife to the faid arlitri menfarum only,, 
 to invite ftrangers , which they {hall rarely 
 do, unlefs they be men of learning or great 
 parts, and fhall not invite above two at a 
 time to one table, nothing being more vain 
 and unfruitful than numerous meetings of 
 acquaintance. 
 
 That the profeilbrs refident fhall allow 
 the college twenty pounds a year for their 
 diet, whether they continue there all the 
 time or not. 
 
 That they mall have once a week an 
 aflembly, or conference, concerning the 
 affairs of the college and the progrefs of 
 their experimental philofophy. 
 
 That, if any one find out any thing 
 which he conceives to be of confequence, 
 he fhall communicate it to the aflembly, 
 to be examined, experimented, approved, 
 or rejected. 
 
 That, if any one be autjT.or_pf an inven- 
 tion that may bring in profit, the third part 
 of it fhall belong to the inventor, and the 
 two other to the fociety ; and befides if the 
 
 thing
 
 EXPERIMENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 233 
 
 thing be very confiderable, his ftatue or 
 picture, with an elogy under it lhall be 
 placed in the gallery, and made a denifon 
 of that corporation of famous men. 
 
 That all the profeffbrs fhall be always 
 afiigned to fome particular inquifition (be- 
 fides the ordinary courfe of their ftudies), 
 of which they fhall give an account to the 
 afTemblyj fothat by this means there may 
 be every day fome operation or other made 
 in all the arts, as chemiitry, anatomy, me- 
 chanics, and the like ; and that the college 
 fhall furnim for the charge of the opera- 
 tion. 
 
 That there lhall be kept a regifter under 
 lock and key, and not to be feen but by 
 the profefibrs, of all the experiments that 
 fucceed, figned by the perfons who made 
 the trial. 
 
 That the popular and received errors 
 in experimental philofophy (with which, 
 like weeds in a neglected garden, it is now 
 almoil all over-grown) fhall be evinced by- 
 trial, and taken notice of in the public 
 l lectures,
 
 234 THE ADVANCEMENT OF 
 
 lectures, that they may no longer abufe 
 the credulous, and beget new ones by con- 
 fequence or fimilitude. 
 
 That every third year (after the full fet- 
 tlement of the foundation) the college mall 
 give an account in print, in proper and 
 antient Latin, of the fruits of their trien- 
 nial induftry. 
 
 That every profeflbr refident (hall have 
 his fcholar to wait upon him in his cham- 
 ber and at table; whom he mall be obliged 
 to breed up in natural philofophy, and ren- 
 der an account of his progrefs to the af- 
 iembly, from whofe election he received 
 'him, and therefore is reiponfible to it, both 
 for the care of his education and the juft 
 2nd civil ulage of him. 
 
 That the fcholarjhalj underiland Latin 
 
 very well, and be moderately initiated in 
 
 the Greek, before he be capable of being 
 
 L into the fervice ; and that he mall 
 
 not remain in it above leven years. 
 
 That his lodging fhall be with the pro- 
 fefibr whom he lerves. 
 
 That
 
 EXPERIMENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 235 
 
 That no profeflbr mall be a married 
 man, or a divine, or lawyer in practice ; 
 only phyfic he may be allowed to prefcribe, 
 becauie the ftudy of that art is a great part 
 of the duty of his place, and the duty of 
 that is fo great, that it will not iuffer him 
 to lofe much time in mercenary practice. 
 
 That the profeflbrs fhall, in the college, 
 wear the habit of ordinary matters of art 
 in the univerfities, or of doctors, if any 
 of them be fo. 
 
 That they fhall all keep an inviolable 
 and exemplary fricndfhip with one another; 
 and that the aflembly fhall lay a confidera- 
 ble pecuniary mulct upon any one who 
 mail be proved to have entered fo far 
 into a quarrel as to give uncivil language 
 to his brother-profefTor ; and that the per- 
 feverance in any en;r,ity (hall be punifhed 
 by the governors with expulfion. 
 
 That the chaplain fhall eat at the mafter's 
 
 table (paying his twenty pounds a year as 
 
 the others do) j and that he fhali read prayers 
 
 once a day at leaft, a little before fuppcr- 
 
 * time ;
 
 236 THE ADVANCEMENT OF 
 
 time ; that he fhall preach in the chapel 
 every Sunday morning, and catechize in the 
 afternoon the fcholars and thefchool-boys ; 
 that he lhall every month adminifter the 
 holy facrament j that he lhall not trouble 
 himielf and his auditors with the contro- 
 verfics of divinity, but only teach God in 
 his juft commandments, and in his won- 
 derful works. 
 
 THE SCHOOL. 
 
 THAT thejchool may be built fo as 
 
 to contain about two hundred boys. 
 
 That it be divided into four clafles, 
 not as others are ordinarily into fix or feven ; 
 becaufe we fuppofe that the children fent 
 hither, to be initiated in things as well as 
 words, ought to have paft the two or three 
 firft, and to have attained the age of about 
 thirteen years, being already well advanced 
 in the Latin grammar, and fome authors. 
 
 That none, though never fo rich, mail 
 pay any thing for their teaching , and that, 
 if any profeflbr lhall be convicted to have 
 
 taken
 
 EXPERIMENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 237 
 
 taken any money in confideration of his 
 pains in the fchool, he fhall be expelled 
 with ignominy by the governors , but if any 
 perfons of great ellate and quality, find- 
 ing their ions much better proficients in 
 learning here, than boys of the fame age 
 commonly are at other fchools, {hall not 
 think tit to receive an obligation of ib near 
 concernment without returning fome marks 
 of acknowledgment, they may, if they pkaje, 
 (for nothing is to be demanded) beftow 
 fome little ratity or curiofity upon the fo- 
 ciety, in rccompence of their trouble. 
 
 And becaule it is deplorable to confider 
 the lois which children make of their time 
 at moil fchools, employing, or rather call- 
 ing away, fix or leven years in the learning 
 of words only, and that too very imper- 
 fectly : 
 
 That a method be here eftablimed, for 
 the infufing knowledge and language at 
 the fame time into them ; and that this 
 may b~ their apprenticemip in natural phi- 
 loibphy. This, we conceive, may be done, 
 
 by
 
 238 THE ADVANCEMENT OF 
 
 by breeding them up in authors, or pieces 
 of authors, who treat of tome parts of na- 
 ture, and who may be underftood with as 
 much eafe and pleafure, as thofe which are 
 commonly taught ; fuch are, in Latin* 
 VarrOj Cato, Columella, Pliny, part of 
 Celfus and of Seneca, Cicero de Divina^ 
 tione, de Natura Deorurrij and feveral fcat- 
 tered pieces, Virgil's Georgics, Grotius^ 
 Nemelianus, Manilius : And becaufe the 
 truth is, we want good poets (I mean we 
 have but few), who have purpoiely treated 
 of Iblid and learned, that is, natural mat- 
 ters (the mod part indulging to the weak- 
 nefs of the world, and feeding it either with 
 the follies of love, or with the fables of gods 
 and heroes), we conceive that one book 
 ought to be compiled of all the fcattered 
 little parcels among the antient poets that 
 might ferve for the advancement of natural 
 icience, and which would make no fmaH 
 or unuieful or unpleafant volume. To 
 this we would have added the morals and 
 rhetorics of Cicero, and the inltitutions of 
 
 Quincli-
 
 EXPERIMENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 239 
 
 Quinctilian ; and for the comedians, from 
 whom almoft all that necefiary part of com- 
 mon difcourfe, and all the mcft intimate 
 proprieties of the language are drawn, v/e 
 conceive, the boys may be made matters of 
 them, as a part of their recreation, and not 
 of their tafk, if once a month, or at leait 
 once in two, they ad one of Terence's 
 Comedies, and afterwards (the moft ad- 
 vanced-) ibme of Plautus's \ and this is 
 for. many reafons one of the belt exerciies 
 they can be enjoined, and mod innocent 
 pleafurcs they can be allowed. As for the 
 Greek authors, they may ftudy Nicander, 
 Oppianus (whom Scaliger does not doubt 
 to prefer above Homer himicif, and place 
 next to his adored Virgil), Ariftotle's hil- 
 tory of animals, and other parts, Theo- 
 phraftus and Diofcorides of plants, and u 
 collection made out. of fcveral both poets 
 and other Grecian writers, ! or the morals 
 and rhetoric, Ariftotle may luince, or Her- 
 mogeDe.s and Longinus be added rbr :;ie Lu- 
 rer. With thehiitory of animals :;..;. :>.ould 
 
 be
 
 540 THE ADVANCEMENT OF 
 
 be fhewcd anatomy as a divertifement, and 
 made to know the figures and natures of thofe 
 creatures which are not common among us, 
 difabufmg them at the fame time of thofe 
 errors which are univerfally admitted con- 
 cerning many. The fame method fhould be 
 ufed to make them acquainted with all 
 plants ; and to this mud be added a little of 
 the ancient and modern geography, the un- 
 derftand ing of the globes, and the principles 
 of geometry and aftronomy. They mould 
 likewifc ale to declaim in Latin and Eng- 
 liih, as the Romans did in Greek and Latin -, 
 and in all this travel be rather led on by fa- ^ 
 miliarity, encouragement, and emulation, 
 than driven by feverity, punimment, and 
 terror. Upon feftivals and play-times, they 
 mould exercife themlelves in the fields, by 
 riding, leaping, fencing, muitering and 
 training after the manner of foldiers, &c. 
 And, to prevent all dangers andalldilorder, 
 there mould always be two of the fcholars 
 ;vith them, to be as witnefies and directors 
 of their actions ; in foul weather, it would 
 
 not
 
 EXPERIMENTAL PHILOSOPHY, 241 
 
 not be amifs for them to learn to dance, that 
 is, to learn juft fo much (for all beyond is 
 fuperfluous, if not worfe) as may give them 
 a graceful comportment of their bodies. 
 
 Upon Sundays, and all days of devotion, 
 they are to be a part of the chaplain's pro- 
 vince. 
 
 That, for all thefe ends, the college fo or- 
 der it, as that there may be fome convenient 
 and pleaiant houfes thereabouts, kept by 
 religious, difcreef, and careful perfons, for 
 the lodging and boarding of y c-Mng fcholars ; 
 that they have a conftant eye over them, to 
 fee that they be bred uptherepioufly, clean- 
 ly, and plentifully, according to the pro- 
 portion of the parents expences. 
 
 And that the college, when it (hall pleafe 
 God, either by their own induftry and fuc- 
 cefs, or by the benevolence of patrons, to 
 enrich them fo far, as that it may come to 
 their turn, and duty to be charitable to 
 others, fhall, at their own charges, erect and 
 maintain fome houfe or houfes for the en- 
 tertainment of fuch poor mens fons, \vhofe 
 
 VOL. I. R good
 
 342 THE ADVANCEMENT OF 
 
 good natural parts may promife either ufe 
 or ornament to the commonwealth, during 
 the time of their abode at fchool ; and mall 
 take care that it mall be done with the fame 
 conveniences as are enjoyed even by rich 
 mens children ^though they maintain the 
 fewer for that caufe), there being nothing 
 of eminent and illuftrious to be exnected 
 from a low, fordid, and hofpital-like edu- 
 cation. 
 
 *ONCLUSION.* 
 
 IF I be not much abufed by a natural 
 fondnefs to my own conceptions (that ^ r / n 
 of the Greeks, which- no other language 
 has a proper word for), there was never 
 any project thought upon, which deferves 
 to meet with fo few adverfaries as this ; 
 for who can without impudent folly op- 
 pofe the eftablimment of twenty well- 
 felecled perfons in fuch a condition of life, 
 that their whole bufmefs and fole pro- 
 feflion may be to ftndy the improvement 
 
 and
 
 EXPERIMENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 24? 
 
 and advantage of all other profefllons, from 
 that of the highcft general even to the low- 
 eft artifan ? who mall be obliged to em- 
 ploy their whole time, wit, learning, and 
 induftry, to thefe four, the moft ufeful 
 that can be imagined, and to no other 
 ends ; firft, to weigh, examine, and prove 
 all things of nature delivered to us by- 
 former ages ; to detect, explode, and ftrike 
 a cenfure through all falfe monies with 
 which the world has been paid and cheated 
 ib long ; and (as I may fay) to fet the mark 
 of the college upon all true coins, that they 
 may pafs hereafter without any farther trial : 
 fecondly, to recover the loft inventions, 
 and, as it were, drowned lands of the an- 
 cients : thirdly, to improve all arts which 
 we now have ; and laftly, to difcover others 
 which we yet have not : and who (hall 
 befides all this (as a benefit by the bye), 
 give the beft education in the world (purely 
 gratis) to as many mens children as fhall 
 think fit to make ufe of the obligation ? 
 Neither does it at all check or interfere with 
 
 any
 
 *44 THE ADVANCEMENT, &c. 
 any parties inailate'or religion; but is indif- 
 ferently to be embraced by all differences 
 in opinion, and can hardly be conceived ca- 
 pable (as many good institutions have done) 
 even of degeneration into any thing harm- 
 ful. So that, all things confidered, I will 
 fuppofe this proportion fhall encounter 
 with no enemies: the only queflion is, whe- 
 ther it will find friends enough to carry in 
 on from difcourfe and defign to reality and 
 effecT: , the neceffary expences of the begin- 
 ning (for it will maintain itlelf well enough 
 afterwards) being fo great (though I have 
 fet them as low as is poflible in order to fo 
 vaft a work), that it may feem hopekfs to 
 raife fuch a fum out of thofe few dead re- 
 lics of human charity and public generofity 
 which are yet remaining in the world. 
 
 THE END OF VOL. I.
 
 THE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 
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 , v v * Of C A ^,6 
 
 ?!f : 2 JANs7 "* 945 ' 
 
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