tongues; and being fellow of Merton college in Oxford, and having been
proctor of the university, and some very witty and sharp discourses being
published in print without his consent, though known to be his, he grew
suddenly into a very general esteem with all men; being a man of great
piety and devotion; a most eloquent and powerful preacher; and of a
conversation so pleasant and delightful, so very innocent, and so very
facetious, that no man's company was more desired, and more loved. No man
was more negligent in his dress, and habit, and mein; no man more wary and
cultivated in his behaviour and discourse; insomuch as he had the greater
advantage when he was known, by promising so little before he was known.
He was an excellent poet both in Latin, Greek, and English, as appears by
many pieces yet abroad; though he suppressed many more himself, especially
of English, incomparably good, out of an austerity to those sallies of his
youth. He was very dear to the Lord Falkland, with whom he spent as much
time as he could make his own; and as that lord would impute the speedy
progress he made in the Greek tongue to the information and assistance he
had from Mr. Earles, so Mr. Earles would frequently profess that he had
got more useful learning by his conversation at Tew (the Lord Falkland's
house,) than he had at Oxford. In the first settling of the prince his
family, he was made one of his chaplains, and attended on him when he was
forced to leave the kingdom. He was amongst the few excellent men who
never had, nor ever could have, an enemy, but such a one who was an enemy
to all learning and virtue, and therefore would never make himself known."
LORD CLARENDON. _Account of his own Life_, folio, Oxford, 1759, p. 26.
* * * * *
----"This is that Dr. Earle, who from his youth (I had almost said from
his childhood,) for his natural and acquired abilities was so very eminent
in the university of Oxon; and after was chosen to be one of the first
chaplains to his Majesty (when Prince of Wales): who knew not how to
desert his master, but with duty and loyalty (suitable to the rest of his
many great virtues, both moral and intellectual,) faithfully attended his
Majesty both at home and abroad, as chaplain, and clerk of his majesty's
closet, and upon his majesty's happy return, was made Dean of Westminster,
and now Lord Bishop of Worcester, (for which, December 7, he did homage to
his Majesty,) having this high and rare felicity by his excellent and
spotless conversation, to have lived so many years in the court of
England, so near his Majesty, and yet not given the least offence to any
man alive; though both in and out of pulpit he used all Christian freedom
against the vanities of this age, being honoured and admired by all who
have either known, heard, or read him."
WHITE KENNETT (Bishop of Peterborough) _Register and Chronicle
Ecclesiastical and Civil_, folio, London, 1728, page 834.
* * * * *
----"Dr. Earle, now Lord Bishop of Salisbury, of whom I may justly say,
(and let it not offend him, because it is such a truth as ought not to be
concealed from posterity, or those that now live and yet know him not,)
that, since Mr. Hooker died, none have lived whom God hath blessed with
more innocent wisdom, more sanctified learning, or a more pious,
peaceable, primitive temper: so that this excellent person seems to be
only like himself, and our venerable Richard Hooker."
WALTON. _Life of Mr. Richard Hooker_, 8vo. Oxford, 1805, i. 327.
* * * * *
----"This Dr. Earles, lately Lord Bishop of Salisbury.--A person certainly
of the sweetest, most obliging nature that lived in our age."
HUGH CRESSEY. _Epistle Apologetical to a Person of Honour_ (Lord
Clarendon), 8vo. 1674, page 46.
* * * * *
----"Dr. Earle, Bishop of Salisbury, was a man that could do good against
evil; forgive much, and of a charitable heart."
PIERCE. _Conformist's Plea for Nonconformity_, 4to. 1681, page 174.
No. III.
LIST OF DR. EARLE'S WORKS.
1. _Microcosmography, or a Piece of the World discovered, in Essays and
Characters. London._ 1628. &c. &c. 12mo.
2. _Hooker's Ecclesiastical Polity_, translated into Latin. This, says
Wood, "is in MS. and not yet printed." In whose possession the MS. was
does not appear, nor have I been able to trace it in the catalogue of any
public or private collection.
3. _Hortus Mertonensis_, a Latin Poem, of which Wood gives the first line
"Hortus deliciae domus politae." It is now supposed to be lost.
4. _Lines on the Death of Sir John Burroughs_; now printed for the first
time. See Appendix, No. IV.
5. _Lines on the Death of the Earl of Pembroke_; now printed for the first
time. See Appendix, No. V.
6. _Elegy upon Francis Beaumont_; first printed at the end of _Beaumont's
Poems, London_, 1640. 4to. See Appendix, No. VI.
7. [Greek: Eikon Basilike], _vel Imago Regis Caroli_, _In illis suis
AErumnis et Solitudine. Hagae-Comitis._ Typis S. B. &c. 1649. 12mo. See
Appendix, No. VII.[BN]
FOOTNOTES:
[BN] Besides the pieces above noticed, several smaller poems were
undoubtedly in circulation during Earle's life, the titles of which are
not preserved. Wood supposes (_Ath. Oxon._) our author to have contributed
to "_some of the Figures, of which about ten were published_" but is
ignorant of the exact numbers to be attributed to his pen. In the
Bodleian[BO] is "_The Figvre of Fovre: Wherein are sweet flowers, gathered
out of that fruitfull ground, that I hope will yeeld pleasure and profit
to all sorts of people. The second Part, London, Printed for Iohn Wright,
and are to bee sold at his shop without Newgate, at the signe of the
Bible, 1636._" This, however, was undoubtedly one of Breton's productions,
as his initials are affixed to the preface. It is in 12mo. and consists of
twenty pages, not numbered. The following extracts will be sufficient to
shew the nature of the volume.
"There are foure persons not to be believed: a horse-courser when he
sweares, a whore when shee weepes, a lawyer when he pleads false, and a
traveller when he tels wonders.
"There are foure great cyphers in the world: hee that is lame among
dancers, dumbe among lawyers, dull among schollers and rude amongst
courtiers
"Foure things grievously empty: a head without braines, a wit without
judgment, a heart without honesty, and a purse without money."
Ant. Wood possessed the _figure of six_, which, however, is now not to be
found among his books left to the university of Oxford, and deposited in
Ashmole's museum. That it once was there, is evident from the MS.
catalogue of that curious collection.
[BO] 8vo. L. 78. Art.
No. IV.
LINES ON SIR JOHN BURROUGHS,
KILLED BY A BULLET AT REEZ[BP].
[_From a MS. in the Bodleian_.]--(_Rawl. Poet_. 142.)
Why did we thus expose thee? what's now all
That island to requite thy funeral?
Though thousand French in murder'd heaps do lie,
It may revenge, it cannot satisfy:
We must bewail our conquest when we see
Our price too dear to buy a victory.
He whose brave fire gave heat to all the rest,
That dealt his spirit in t' each English breast,
From whose divided virtues you may take
So many captains out, and fully make
Them each accomplish'd with those parts, the which,
Jointly, did his well-furnish'd soul enrich.
Not rashly valiant, nor yet fearful wise,
His flame had counsel, and his fury, eyes.
Not struck in courage at the drum's proud beat,
Or made fierce only by the trumpet's heat--
When e'en pale hearts above their pitch do fly,
And, for a while do mad it valiantly.
His rage was tempered well, no fear could daunt
His reason, his cold blood was valiant.
Alas! these vulgar praises injure thee;
Which now a poet would as plenteously
Give some brag-soldier, one that knew no more
Than the fine scabbard and the scarf he wore.
Fathers shall tell their children [this] was he,
(And they hereafter to posterity,)
Rank'd with those forces scourged France of old,
Burrough's and Talbot's[BQ] names together told.
J. EARLES.
FOOTNOTES:
[BP] For an account of the unsuccessful expedition to the Isle of Re,
under the command of the Duke of Buckingham, see Carte's _History of
England_, vol. iv. page 176, folio, _Lond_. 1755. Sir John Burroughs, a
general of considerable renown, who possessed the chief confidence of the
Duke, fell in an endeavour to reconnoitre the works of the enemy, Aug.
1627.
[BQ] Sir John Talbot, first earl of Shrewsbury, of whom see Collins'
_Peerage_, iii. 9. Holinshed, Rapin, Carte, &c.
No. V.
ON THE DEATH OF THE EARL OF PEMBROKE[BR].
[_From the same MS._]
Come, Pembroke lives! Oh! do not fright our ears
With the destroying truth! first raise our fears
And say he is not well: that will suffice
To force a river from the public eyes,
Or, if he must be dead, oh! let the news
Speak in astonish'd whispers: let it use
Some phrase without a voice, and be so told,
As if the labouring sense griev'd to unfold
Its doubtfull woe. Could not the public zeal
Conquer the Fates, and save your's? Did the dart
Of death, without a preface, pierce your heart?
Welcome, sad weeds--but he that mourns for thee,
Must bring an eye that can weep elegy.
A look that would save blacks: whose heavy grace
Chides mirth, and bears a funeral in his face.
Whose sighs are with such feeling sorrows blown,
That all the air he draws returns a groan.
Thou needst no gilded tomb--thy memory,
Is marble to itself--the bravery
Of jem or rich enamel is mis-spent--
Thy noble corpse is its own monument!
Mr. EARLES, Merton.
FOOTNOTES:
[BR] William, third Earl of Pembroke, son of Henry, Earl of Pembroke, and
Mary, sister to Sir Philip Sidney, was the elder brother of Earle's
patron, and Chancellor of Oxford. He died at Baynard's castle, April 10,
1630.
No. VI.
ON MR. BEAUMONT.
WRITTEN THIRTY YEARS SINCE, PRESENTLY AFTER HIS DEATH.
[_From "Comedies and Tragedies written by Francis Beaumont and John
Fletcher, Gentlemen" folio. London. 1647._]
Beaumont lies here: And where now shall we have
A muse like his to sigh upon his grave?
Ah! none to weep this with a worthy tear,
But he that cannot, _Beaumont_ that lies here.
Who now shall pay thy tomb with such a verse
As thou that lady's didst, fair _Rutland's_ herse.
A monument that will then lasting be,
When all her marble is more dust than she.
In thee all's lost: a sudden dearth and want
Hath seiz'd on wit, good epitaphs are scant.
We dare not write thy elegy, whilst each fears
He ne'er shall match that copy of thy tears.
Scarce in an age a poet, and yet he
Scarce live the third part of his age to see,
But quickly taken off and only known,
Is in a minute shut as soon as shown.
Why should weak Nature tire herself in vain
In such a piece, to dash it straight again?
Why should she take such work beyond her skill,
Which, when she cannot perfect, she must kill?
Alas! what is't to temper slime and mire?
But Nature's puzzled when she works in fire.
Great brains (like brightest glass) crack straight, while those
Of stone or wood hold out, and fear not blows;
And we their ancient hoary heads can see
Whose wit was never their mortality.
_Beaumont_ dies young, so _Sidney_ did before,
There was not poetry he could live to more,
He could not grow up higher, I scarce know
If th' art itself unto that pitch could grow,
Were't not in thee that hadst arriv'd the height
Of all that wit could reach, or nature might.
O when I read those excellent things of thine,
Such strength, such sweetness couched in ev'ry line,
Such life of fancy, such high choice of brain,
Nought of the vulgar wit or borrow'd strain,
Such passion, such expressions meet my eye,
Such wit untainted with obscenity,
And these so unaffectedly exprest,
All in a language purely flowing drest,
And all so born within thyself, thine own,
So new, so fresh, so nothing trod upon:
I grieve not now that old _Menander's_ vein
Is ruin'd to survive in thee again;
Such, in his time, was he of the same piece,
The smooth, even, nat'ral wit and love of Greece.
Those few sententious fragments shew more worth,
Than all the poets Athens e'er brought forth;
And I am sorry we have lost those hours
On them, whose quickness comes far short of ours,
And dwell not more on thee, whose ev'ry page
May be a pattern for their scene and stage.
I will not yield thy works so mean a praise;
More pure, more chaste, more sainted than are plays:
Nor with that dull supineness to be read,
To pass a fire, or laugh an hour in bed.
How do the Muses suffer every where,
Taken in such mouth's censure, in such ears,
That 'twixt a whiff, a line or two rehearse,
And with their rheume together spaul a verse?
This all a poem's leisure after play,
Drink, or tobacco, it may keep the day:
Whilst ev'n their very idleness they think
Is lost in these, that lose their time in drink.
Pity then dull we, we that better know,
Will a more serious hour on thee bestow.
Why should not _Beaumont_ in the morning please,
As well as _Plautus_, _Aristophanes_?
Who, if my pen may as my thoughts be free,
Were scurril wits and buffoons both to thee;
Yet these our learned of severest brow
Will deign to look on, and to note them too,
That will defy our own, 'tis English stuff,
And th' author is not rotten long enough,
Alas! what phlegm are they compar'd to thee,
In thy _Philaster_, and _Maid's-Tragedy_?
Where's such a humour as thy _Bessus_? pray
Let them put all their _Thrasoes_ in one play,
He shall out-bid them; their conceit was poor,
All in a circle of a bawd or whore;
A coz'ning dance; take the fool away
And not a good jest extant in a play.
Yet these are wits, because they'r old, and now
Being Greek and Latin, they are learning too:
But those their own times were content t'allow
A thirsty fame, and thine is lowest now.
But thou shalt live, and, when thy name is grown
Six ages older, shall be better known,
When th' art of _Chaucer's_ standing in the tomb,
Thou shalt not share, but take up all his room.
JOHN EARLE.
No. VII.
DEDICATION TO THE LATIN TRANSLATION
OF THE
[Greek: Eikon Basilike].
"Serenissimo et Potentissimo Monarchae, Carolo Secundo. Dei Gratia Magnae
Britanniae, Franciae et Hiberniae Regi, Fidei Defensori, &c.
Serenissime Rex,
Prodeat jam sub tuis auspiciis illa patris tui gloriosissimi imago, illa
qua magis ad Dei similitudinem, quam qua Rex aut homo accedit. Prodeat
vero eo colore peregrino, quo facta omnibus conspectior fiat publica. Ita
enim tu voluisti, ut sic lingua omnium communi orbi traderem, in qua
utinam feliciorem tibi operam navare licuisset, ut illam nativam
elegantiam, illam vim verborum et lumina, illam admirabilem sermonis
structuram exprimerem. Quod cum fieri (fortasse nec a peritissimis) a me
certe non possit, praestat interim ut cum aliqua venustatis injuria magnam
partem Europae alloquatur, quam intra paucos suae gentis clausa apud caeteros
omnes conticescat. Sunt enim hic velut quaedam Dei magnalia quae spargi
expedit humano generi, et in omnium linguis exaudiri: id pro mea facultate
curavi, ut si non sensa tanti authoris ornate, at perspicue et fide
traderem, imo nec ab ipsa dictione et phrasi (quantum Latini idiomatis
ratio permittit) vel minimum recederem. Sacri enim codicis religiosum esse
decet interpretem: et certe proxime ab illo sacro et adorando codice, (qui
in has comparationes non cadit,) spera non me audacem futurum, si dixero
nullum inter caeteros mortalium, vel autore vel argumento illustriorem, vel
in quo viva magis pietas et eximie Christiana spiratur.
Habet vero sanctitas regia nescio quid ex fortunae suae majestate sublimius
quiddain et augustius, et quae imperium magis obtinet in mentes hominum, et
reverentia majore accipitur: quare et his maxime instrumentis usus est
Deus, qui illam partem sacrae paginae ad solennem Dei cultum pertinentem,
psalmos scilicet, et hymnos: caeteraque ejusmodi perpetuis ecclesiae usibus
inservitura, transmitterent hominibus, et auctoritatem quandam
conciliarent. Quid quod libentius etiam arripiunt homines sic objectam et
traditam pietatem. Quod et libro huic evenit, et erit magis eventurum, quo
jam multo diffusior plures sui capaces invenerit.
Magnum erat profecto sic meditari, sic scribere; multo majus sic vivere,
sic mori: ut sit haec pene nimia dictu pietas exemplo illius superata. Scit
haec illa orbis pars miserrima jam et contaminatissima. Utinam hanc
maturius intellexissent virtutem, quam jam sero laudant, et admirantur
amissam, nec illa opus fuisset dira fornace, qua tam eximia regis pietas
exploraretur, ex qua nos tantum miseri facti sumus, ille omnium
felicissimus; cujus illa pars vitae novissima et aerumnosissima et supremus
dies, (in quo hominibus, et angelis spectaculum factus stetit animo
excelso et interrito, summum fidei, constantiae, patientiae exemplar,
superior malis suis, et tota simul conjesta inferni malitia) omnes omnium
triumphos et quicquid est humanae gloriae, susuperavit. Nihil egistis O
quot estis, hominum! (sed nolo libro sanctissimo quicquam tetrius praefari,
nec qaos ille inter preces nominat, maledicere) nihil, inquam, egistis hoc
parricidio, nisi quod famam illius et immortalitatem cum aeterno vestro
probro et scelere conjunxistis. Nemo unquam ab orbe condito tot veris
omnium lacrymis, tot sinceris laudibus celebratus est. Nulli unquam
principum in secundis agenti illos fictos plausus vel metus dedit, vel
adulatio vendidit, quam hic verissimos expressere fuga, carcer, theatrum
et illa omnium funestissima securis, qua obstupe, fecit hostes moriens et
caesus triumphavit.
Tu interim (Rex augustissime) vera et viva patris effigies, (cujus inter
summas erat felicitates humanas, et in adversis solatium te genuisse, in
quo superstite mori non potest) inflammeris maxime hoc mortis illius
exemplo, non tam in vindictae cupidinem, (in quem alii te extimulent, non
ego) quam in heroicae virtutis, et constantiae zelum: hanc vero primum adeas
quam nulla vis tibi invito eripiet, haereditariam pietatem; et quo es in
tuos omnes affectu maxime philostorgo, hunc librum eodem tecum genitore
satum amplectere; dic sapientiae, soror mea es, et prudentiam affinem voca;
hanc tu consule, hanc frequens meditare, hanc imbibe penitus, et in animam
tuam transfunde. Vides in te omnium conjectos oculos, in te omnium bonorum
spes sitas, ex te omnium vitas pendere, quas jamdiu multi taedio
projecissent, nisi ut essent quas tibi impenderent. Magnum onus incumbit,
magna urget procella, magna expectatio, major omnium, quam quae unquam
superius, virtutum necessitas: an sit regnum amplius in Britannia futurum,
an religio, an homines, an Deus, ex tua virtute, tua fortuna dependet:
immo, sola potius ex Deo fortuna; cujus opem quo magis hic necessariam
agnoscis, praesentaneam requiris, eo magis magisque, (quod jam facis) omni
pietatis officio promerearis: et illa quae in te large sparsit bonitatis,
prudentiae, temperantiae, justitiae, et omnis regiae virtutis semina foveas,
augeas, et in fructum matures, ut tibi Deus placatus et propitius, quod
detraxit patri tuo felicitatis humanae, tibi adjiciat, et omnes illius
aerumnas conduplicatis in te beneficiis compenset, et appelleris ille
restaurator, quem te unice optant omnes et sperant futurum, et
ardentissimis precibus expetit.
Majestatis tuae humillimus devotissimusque subditus et sacellanus,
JO. EARLES.
No. VIII.
INSCRIPTION ON DR. PETER HEYLIN'S[BS] MONUMENT IN WESTMINSTER-ABBEY.
[_Written by Dr. Earle, then Dean of Westminster._]
Depositum Mortale
Petri Heylyn, S. Th. D.
Hujus Ecclesiae Prebendarii et Subdecani,
Viri plane memorabilis,
Egregiis dotibus instructissimi,
Ingenio acri et foecundo,
Judicio subacto,
Memoria ad prodigium tenaci,
Cui adjunxit incredibilem in studiis patientiam
Quae cessantibus oculis non cessarunt.
Scripsit varia et plurima,
Quae jam manibus hominum teruntur;
Et argumentis non vulgaribus
Stylo non vulgari suffecit.
Et Majestatis Regiae assertor
Nec florentis magis utriusque
Quam afflictae,
Idemque perduellium et scismaticae factionis
Impugnator acerrimus.
Contemptor invidiae
Et animo infracto
Plura ejusmodi meditanti
Mors indixit silentium:
Ut sileatur
Efficere non potest.
Obiit Anno AEtatis 63, et 8 die Maii, A. D. 1662.
Possuit hoc illi maestissima conjux.
FOOTNOTES:
[BS] Peter Heylin was born at Burford, in Oxfordshire, Nov. 29, 1599 and
received the rudiments of his education at the free school in that place,
from whence he removed to Harthall, and afterwards obtained a fellowship
at Magdalen College, Oxford. By the interposition of Bishop Laud, to whom
he was recommended by Lord Danvers, he was presented first to the rectory
of Hemingford, in Huntingdonshire, then to a prebend of Westminster, and
lastly to the rectory of Houghton in the Spring, in the diocese of Durham,
which latter he exchanged for Alresford, in Hampshire. In 1633 he
proceeded D. D. and in 1638, became rector of South Warnborough,
Hampshire, by exchange with Mr. Atkinson, of St. John's College, for
Islip, in Oxfordshire. In 1640 he was chosen clerk of the convocation for
Westminster, and in 1642 followed the king to Oxford. After the death of
Charles, he lost all his property, and removing with his family from place
to place, subsisted by the exercise of his pen till the Restoration, when
he regained his livings, and was made sub-dean of Westminster. His
constancy and exertions were supposed by many to merit a higher reward,
from a government, in whose defence he had sacrificed every prospect; but
the warmth of his temper, and his violence in dispute, were such as
rendered his promotion to a higher dignity in the church impolitic in the
opinion of the ministers. He died May 8, 1662, and was interred in
Westminster-abbey, under his own stall. A list of his numerous
publications, as well as a character of him, may be found in Wood's
_Athenae Oxonienses_, ii. 275.
No. IX.
CORRESPONDENCE BETWEEN DR. EARLE AND MR. BAXTER.
[_See Kennet's Register, folio, Lond. 1723, page 713._]
MR. BAXTER TO DR. EARLE.
"REVEREND SIR,
"By the great favour of my lord chancellor's
reprehension, I came to understand how long a time I
have suffered in my reputation with my superiors by your
misunderstanding me, and misinforming others; as if when
I was to preach before the king, I had scornfully
refused the tippet as a toy; when, as the Searcher and
Judge of Hearts doth know, that I had no such thought or
word. I was so ignorant in those matters as to think
that a tippet had been a proper ensign of a doctor of
divinity, and I verily thought that you offered it me as
such: and I had so much pride as to be somewhat ashamed
when you offered it me, that I must tell you my want of
such degrees; and therefore gave you no answer to your
first offer, but to your second was forced to say, "It
belongeth not to me, Sir." And I said not to you any
more; nor had any other thought in my heart than with
some shame to tell you that I had no degrees, imagining
I should have offended others, and made myself the
laughter or scorn of many, if I should have used that
which did not belong to me. For I must profess that I
had no more scruple to wear a tippet than a gown, or any
comely garment. Sir, though this be one of the smallest
of all the mistakes which of late have turned to my
wrong, and I must confess that my ignorance gave you the
occasion, and I am far from imputing it to any ill will
in you, having frequently heard, that in charity, and
gentleness, and peaceableness of mind you are very
eminent; yet because I must not contemn my estimation
with my superiors, I humbly crave that favour and
justice of you, (which I am confident you will readily
grant me,) as to acquaint those with the truth of this
business, whom, upon mistake, you have misinformed,
whereby in relieving the innocence of your brother, you
will do a work of charity and justice, and therefore not
displeasing unto God, and will much oblige,
Sir,
Your humble servant,
RICHARD BAXTER.
_June 20, 1662._
_P. S._ I have the more need of your justice in this
case, because my distance denieth me access to those
that have received these misreports, and because any
public vindication of myself, whatever is said of me, is
taken as an unsufferable crime, and therefore I am
utterly incapable of vindicating my innocency, or
remedying their mistakes.
"To the reverend and much honoured Dr. Earles,
Dean of Westminster, &c. These."
DR EARLE, IN REPLY.
_Hampton-Court, June 23._
"SIR,
[Sidenote: O that they were all such.--_Note by Mr.
Baxter._]