twentieth year, that he joined the standard of the illustrious Gustavus Adolphus, and was present at three battles and five sieges, besides lesser engagements, within the space of six months.

On his return, he employed his time and expended his fortune among the wits of his age, to whom he was recommended not only by generous and social habits, but by a solid sense in argument and conversation far beyond what might be expected from his years and apparent lightness of disposition. Among his principal associates we find Lord Falkland, Davenant, Ben Jonson, Digby, Carew, Sir Toby Matthews, and the "ever-memorable" Hales of Eton, to whom he addresses a lively invitation to come to town. His plays, Aglaura, Brennoralt, The Goblins, and an unfinished piece entitled The Sad One, added considerably to his fame, although they have not been able to perpetuate it. The first only was printed in his lifetime. All his plays, we are told, were acted with applause, and he spared no expense in costly dresses and decorations.

While thus seemingly devoted to pleasure only, the unfortunate aspect of public affairs roused him to a sense of duty, and induced him to offer his services, and devote his life and fortune, to the cause of royalty. How justly he could contemplate the unfortunate dispute between the court and nation, appears in his letter to Mr. Germain (afterwards Lord Albemarle); a composition almost unrivalled in that age for elegance of style and depth of observation. It was, however, too much the practice with those who made voluntary offers of soldiers, to equip them in an expensive and useless manner. Suckling, who was magnificent in all his expenses, was not to be outdone in an article which he had studied more than became a soldier, and which he might suppose would afford unquestionable proof of his attachment to the royal cause; and having been permitted to raise a troop of horse, consisting of a hundred, he equipped them so richly that they are said to have cost him 12,000l.

This exposed him to some degree of ridicule; a weapon which the republicans often wielded with great dexterity, and which in this instance was sharpened by the misconduct of his gaudy soldiers. The particulars of this affair are not recorded; but it appears that in 1639, the royal army, of which his troop formed a part, was defeated by the Scotch, and that Sir John's men behaved remarkably ill. All this is possible, without any imputation on the courage of their commander; but it afforded his enemies an opportunity of turning the expedition into telling ridicule.

This unhappy affair is said by Lloyd to have contributed to shorten his days; but Oldys attributes his death to another cause. Lord Oxford informed Öldys, on the authority of Dean Chetwood, who said he had it from Lord Roscommon, that Sir John Suckling, on his way to France, was robbed of a casket of gold and jewels by his valet, who gave him poison, and besides stuck the blade of a penknife into his boot in such a manner, that Sir John was disabled from pursuing the villain, and was wounded incurably in the heel. Dr. Warton, in a note to his essay on Pope, relates the story somewhat differently. "Sir John Suckling was robbed by his valet-de-chambre; the moment he discovered it, he clapped on his boots in a passionate hurry, and perceived not a large rusty nail that was concealed at the bottom,

which pierced his heel, and brought on mortification." May 7, 1641, in the thirty-second year of his age.

He died

As a poet, he was one of those who wrote for amusement, and was not stimulated by ambition or anxious for fame. His pieces were sent loose about the world; and not having been collected until after his death, they are probably less correct than he left them. Many of his verses are as rugged and unharmonious as those of Donne, but his songs and ballads are elegant and graceful. He was particularly happy and original in expressing the feelings of artificial love, disdain, or disappointment. The Session of the Poets, the Lines to a Rival, The Honest Lover, and the Ballad upon a Wedding, are sufficient to entitle him to the honours of poetry. His prose writings are, perhaps, calculated to raise a still higher opinion of his talents. His letters, with a dash of gallantry more free than modern times will admit, are shrewd in observation, and often elegant in style. That addressed to Mr. Germain has already been noticed; and his Account of Religion by Reason is remarkable for soundness of argument and purity of expression, far exceeding the controversial writings of that age.

CLEMENT BARKSDALE.

(1609-1687.)

Clement Barksdale was born at Winchcombe, in Gloucestershire, November 1609. From the free grammar-school of Abingdon, Berks, he was entered as servitor of Merton College, Oxford, in Lent term, 1625, but soon translated himself to Gloucester Hall, where he took his degree in arts, received ordination, and in 1637 supplied the place of chaplain of Lincoln College, in the church of All Saints. Being called from thence the same year, he was made master of the free school at Hereford, and soon after vicar of All-Hallows in that city. When the garrison of Hereford was surprised by the parliamentary forces in 1646, he was rescued out of the danger and placed at Sudeley, where he resumed his ministerial functions, and afterwards sheltered at Hawling in Cotswold, where he undertook a private school with success. After the Restoration, he was settled by royal gift in the parsonage of Naunton, near Hawling, and Stone-onthe-Wold, in Gloucestershire. These he retained till his death, in 1687. His publications were very numerous, though few of them continue to be regarded, unless it be his Memorials of Worthy Persons and Remembrances of excellent Men, which are chiefly compilations. Wood says he " was a great pretender to poetry; but this does not appear. We know him in this way chiefly as the writer of Nympha Libethris, or the Cotswold Muse; presenting some extempore verses to the imitation of young scholars. In four parts." 1651. The numerous poems in this volume, all very short, are each dedicated to some different person.

RICHARD CRASHAW.

(Circa 1610-1650.)

Richard Crashaw was the son of the Rev. William Crashaw, a divine of some note in his day, and preacher at the Temple Church, London. He was born in London, but in what year is uncertain. In his infancy Sir Henry Yelverton and Sir Randolph Carew undertook the charge of his education, and afterwards procured him to be placed in the Charterhouse on the foundation, where he improved in an extraordinary degree under Brooks, a very celebrated master. He was thence admitted of Pembroke Hall, March 1632, and took his bachelor's degree in the same college in 1634. He then removed to Peter House, of which he was a fellow in 1637, and took his master's degree in 1638. In 1634 he published a volume of Latin poems, mostly of the devotional kind, dedicated to Benjamin Lang, Master of Pembroke Hall. This contained the well-known line, which has sometimes been ascribed to Dryden and others, on the miracle of turning water into wine:

"Nympha pudica Deum vidit, et erubuit."

"The modest water saw its God, and blushed."

In 1641 he took degrees at Oxford. At what time he was admitted into holy orders is uncertain; but he soon became a popular preacher, full of energy and enthusiasm. In 1644, when the parliamentary army expelled those members of the University who refused to take the covenant, Crashaw was among the number; and being unable to contemplate with resignation or indifference the ruins of the church-establishment, he went over to France, where his sufferings, and their peculiar influence on his mind, prepared him to embrace the Roman Catholic religion. It is certain that soon after his arrival in France, he embraced the religion of the country with a sincerity which may be respected while it is pitied, but which has rather uncharitably been imputed to motives of interest. He seems to have thought, with Dr. Johnson, that "to be of no church was dangerous," and that the Church of England he had witnessed in ruins. If in this Crashaw did what was wrong, he did what was not uncommon in his time. In 1646 Cowley found Crashaw in France in great distress, and introduced him to the patronage of Charles the First's queen, who gave him letters of recommendation to Italy. There he became secretary to one of the cardinals at Rome, and was made canon in the church of Loretto, where he died of a fever soon after this last promotion, about the year 1650. Cowley's elegant and affectionate lines on the occasion are well known. Hayley remarks, that "fine as they are, Cowley has sometimes fallen into the principal defect of the poet whom he is praising. He now and then speaks of sacred things with a vulgar and ludicrous familiarity of language, by which (to use a happy expression of Dr. Johnson's) 'readers far short of sanctity may be offended in the present age, when devotion, though perhaps not more fervent, is more delicate.' Let us add, that if the poetical character of Crashaw seem not to answer this glowing panegyric, yet in

his higher character of saint he appears to have had the purest title to this affectionate eulogy.”

It appears by a passage in Selden's Table-talk, that Crashaw had at one time an intention of writing against the stage, and that Selden succeeded in diverting him from his purpose.

Crashaw's poems were first published in 1646, under the title of 1. Steps to the Temple; because, says the Oxford antiquary, “he led his life in the temple of God, in St. Mary's church, near to his college. There, as we learn from the preface to these poems, he lodged under Tertullian's roof of angels. There he made his nest more gladly than David's swallow near the house of God; where, like a primitive Saint, he offered more prayers in the night than others usually offer in the day. There he penned the said poems called Steps to the Temple, for happy souls to climb to heaven by." 2. The Delights of the Muses. 3. Sacred Poems, presented to the Countess of Denbigh. Of these, many republications within a short period, and that period not very favourable to poetry, sufficiently mark the estimation in which this devotional enthusiast was held.

His poems are of the school which produced Herbert and Quarles, and Herbert was his model.

A portion of Pope's observations on Crashaw's poetry deserves a place here, not as being in all respects applicable to that writer, but as forming an excellent character of a class of minor poets of the seventeenth century.

"I take this poet (Crashaw) to have writ like a gentleman,—that is, at leisure hours, and more to keep out of idleness than to establish a reputation; so that nothing regular or just can be expected of him. All that regards design, form, fable (which is the soul of poetry), all that concerns exactness or consent of parts (which is the body), will probably be wanting; only pretty conceptions, fine metaphors, glittering expressions, and something of a neat cast of verse (which are properly the dress-gems or loose ornaments of poetry), may be found in these verses. This is, indeed, the case of most other poetical writers of miscellanies; nor can it well be otherwise, since no man can be a true poet who writes for diversion. These authors should be considered as versifiers and witty men, rather than as poets; and under this head only will fall the thoughts, the expression, and the numbers. These are only the pleasing part of poetry, which may be judged of at view, and comprehended all at once. And (to express myself like a painter) their colouring entertains the sight, but the lines and life of the picture are not to be inspected too narrowly."

Pope enumerates among Crashaw's best pieces, the Paraphrase on Psalm xxiii., the Verses on Lessius, Epitaph on Mr. Ashton, Wishes to his supposed Mistress, and the Dies Ira. Dr. Warton points out the obligations of Pope and Roscommon to Crashaw. Mr. Hayley, after specifying some of Pope's imitations of our author, conjectures that the Elegies on St. Alexis suggested to him the idea of his Eloisa; but, adds this biographer, "if Pope borrowed any thing from Crashaw in this article, it was only as the sun borrows from the earth, when drawing from thence a mere vapour, he makes it the delight of every eye, by giving it all the tender and gorgeous colouring of heaven."

Some of Crashaw's translations are esteemed superior to his original poetry; and that of the Sospetto d'Herode, from Marino, is executed with Miltonic grace and spirit. It has been regretted that he translated only the first book of a poem by which Milton condescended to profit in his immortal epic.

WILLIAM CARTWRIGHT.

(1611-1643.)

William Cartwright was born at Northway, near Tewkesbury, Gloucestershire, Sept. 1611; the son of a man who, having dissipated a fair inheritance, was at last reduced to keep an inn at Cirencester. Our poet received part of his education under Mr. William Top, master of the free grammar-school at Cirencester; and was sent thence to Westminster School, where he completed his education under Mr. Lambert Osbaldiston. In 1628 he was chosen a student of Christ Church, Oxford, where he took his degrees of B. A. and M.A. (the latter in 1635); and afterwards entering into holy orders, became, as Wood expresses it, "the most florid and seraphical preacher in the University." In Oct. 1642, Bishop Duppa gave him the place of succentor in the church of Salisbury; and on the 12th of April, 1643, he was admitted junior proctor of the University. He died the 29th of November following, of a malignant fever, universally lamented by all who knew him, even by his sovereign, who showed him particular marks of his respect. He was buried at the upper end of the south aisle, adjoining to the choir of the cathedral of Christ Church. "He was," says Langbaine, extremely remarkable both for his outward and inward endowments, his body being as handsome as his soul. He was an expert linguist; understanding not only Greek and Latin, but French and Italian, as perfectly as his mother tongue. He was an excellent orator as well as an admirable poet; a quality which Cicero, with all his pains, could not attain to. Nor was Aristotle less known to him than Cicero and Virgil; and those who heard his metaphysical lectures gave him the preference to all his predecessors, the present Bishop of Lincoln (Dr. Barlow) excepted. His sermons were as much admired as his other composures; and one fitly applied to our author that saying of Aristotle concerning Æschron the poet, "that he could not tell what schron could not do."

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Ben Jonson said of him, with some passion, "My son Cartwright writes all like a man," and Dr. Fell, Bishop of Oxford, gave him this character, " Cartwright was the utmost man could come to."

Besides a sermon, and some Greek and Latin poems, he was the author of four plays, one only of which, we believe, was published in his lifetime; viz.

1. The Royal Slave: a tragi-comedy. Presented to the King and Queen by the students of Christchurch, Oxford, August 30, 1637. Presented since to both their Majesties, at Hampton Court, by the King's servants. 1640.

This play, in which the celebrated Dr. Busby performed a part, gave so much satisfaction to their Majesties, that it was by their orders performed at