gables and plain windows, and is but a story high. In front are some old trees, and a convenient porch to the door, in which to sit and look forth upon the road, a few paces in advance of it. The front is of plaster, but the windows are modernized, and there are other alterations which the exigencies of tenancy have made necessary since Marvel's days.

The dwelling was evidently inhabited; the curtains in the deep windows as white as they were when we visited it some years previous to the visit concerning

which we now write; and the garden as neat as when in those days we asked permission to see the house, and were answered by an elderly servant, who took in our message, and an old gentleman came into the hall, invited us in, and presented us to his wife, a lady of more than middle age, and of that species of beauty depending upon expression, which it is not in the power of time to wither, because it is of the spirit rather than the flesh; and we also remembered a green parrot, in a fine cage, that talked a great deal, and was the only thing

which seemed out of place in the house. We had been treated with much courtesy; and emboldened by the memory of that kindness, we now ascended the stone steps, unlatched the little gate, and knocked.

Again we were received courteously and kindly by the lady we had formerly seen; and again she blandly offered to show us the house. We went up a little winding stair, and into several neat, clean bedrooms, where everything was so old-fashioned, that you could fancy Andrew Marvel himself was still its master.

to say, the patriots of those times were not like the patriots now; that then, they acted for their country-now, they talk about it! Alas! the days are passed when you could tell an Englishman from every other man, even by his gait, keeping the middle of the road, and straight on, as one who knew himself, and made others know him. I am sure a party of Roundheads, in their sober coats, high hats, and heavy boots, would have walked up Highgate-hill to visit Master Andrew Marvel with a different air from the young men of our own time-or of their own time, I should say-for my time is past, and yours is passing."

"Look out here," said the old lady; "here's a view! They say this was Andrew Marvel's writing closet when he wrote sense; but when he wrote poetry, That was quite true; but there is no he used to sit below in his garden. I have reason, we thought, why we should not heard there is a private way under the look cheerfully toward the future, and pray road to Cromwell House, opposite; but that it may be a bright world for others, surely that could not be necessary. So if not for ourselves; the greater our engood a man would not want to work in the joyment in the contemplation of the hapdark; for he was a true lover of his coun- piness of our fellow-creatures, the nearer try, and a brave man. My husband used we approach God.

It was too damp for the old lady to venture into the garden; and sweet and gentle as she was, both in mind and manner, we were glad to be alone. How pretty and peaceful the house looks from this spot! The snowdrops were quite up, and the yellow and purple tips of the crocuses bursting through the ground in all directions. This, then, was the garden the poet loved so well, and to which he alludes so charmingly in his poem, where the nymph complains of the death of her fawn:

"I have a garden of my own,
But so with roses overgrown,
And lilies, that you would it guess
To be a little wilderness."

The garden seems in nothing changed;
in fact, the entire appearance of the place
is what it was in those glorious days when
inhabited by the truest genius and the
most unflinching patriot that ever sprang
from the sterling stuff that Englishmen
were made of in those wonder-working
times. The genius of Andrew Marvel
was as varied as it was remarkable; not
only was he a tender and exquisite poet,
but entitled to stand facile princeps as an
incorruptible patriot, the best of contro-
versialists, and the leading prose wit of
England. We have always considered his
as the first of the " sprightly runnings"
of that brilliant stream of wit, which will
carry with it to the latest posterity the
names of Swift, Steele, and Addison.
Before Marvel's time, to be witty was to
be strained, forced, and conceited; from
him-whose memory consecrates that
cottage-wit came sparkling forth, un-
touched by baser matter. It was worthy
of him-its main feature was an open
clearness. Detraction or jealousy cast no
stain upon it; he turned aside, in the
midst of an exalted panegyric of Oliver
Cromwell, to say the finest things that
ever were said of Charles I.

The patriot was a son of Mr. Andrew Marvel, minister and schoolmaster of Kingston-upon-Hull, where he was born in 1620; his father was also the lecturer of Trinity Church in that town, and was celebrated as a learned and pious man. The son's abilities at an early age were remarkable; and his progress so great, that at the age of thirteen he was entered as a student of Trinity College, Cambridge; and it is said that the corporation of his natal town furnished him with the means of entering the college and prosecuting his

studies there. His shrewd and inquiring mind attracted the attention of some of the Jesuit emissaries who were at this time lurking about the universities, and sparing no pains to make proselytes. Marvel entered into disputations with them, and ultimately fell so far into their power, that he consented to abandon the university, and follow one of them to London. Like many other clever youths, he was inattentive to the mere drudgery of university attendance, and had been reprimanded in consequence; this, and the news of his escape from college, reached his father's ears at Hull. That good and anxious parent followed him to London, and after a considerable search, at last met with him in a bookseller's shop; he argued with his son as a prudent and sensible man should do, and prevailed on him to retrace his steps and return with him to college, where he applied to his studies with such good-will and continued assiduity, that he obtained the degree of Bachelor of Arts in 1638. His father lived to see the fruits of his wise advice, but was only spared thus long; for he was unfortunately drowned in crossing the Humber, as he was attending the daughter of an intimate female friend, who, by this event becoming childless, sent for young Marvel, and, by way of making all the return in her power, added considerably to his fortune.

This accession of wealth gave him an opportunity of traveling; and he journeyed through Holland, France, and Italy. While at Rome he wrote the first of those satirical poems which obtained him so much celebrity. It was a satire on an English priest there, a wretched poetaster named Flecknoe. From an early period of life Marvel appears to have despised conceit, or impertinence, and he found another chance to exhibit his powers of satire in the person of an ecclesiastic of Paris, one Joseph de Maniban, an abbot, who pretended to understand the characters of those he had never seen, and to prognosticate their good or bad fortune, from an inspection of their handwriting. Marvel addressed a poem to him, which, if it did not effectually silence his pretensions, at all events exposed them fully to the thinking portions of the community.

Beneath Italian skies his immortal friendship with Milton seems to have commenced; it was of rapid growth, but was firmly established. They were, in many

ways, kindred spirits, and their hopes for the after destinies of England were alike. | In 1653 Marvel returned to England, and during the eventful years that followed we can find no record of his strong and earnest thoughts, as they worked upward into the arena of public life. One glorious fact we know, and all who honor virtue must feel its force-that in an age when wealth was never wanting to the unscrupulous, Marvel, a member of the popular and successful party, continued POOR. Many of those years he is certain to have passed

64 Under the destiny severe

Of Fairfax, and the starry Vere-" in the humble capacity of tutor of languages to their daughters. It was most likely during this period that he inhabited the cottage at Highgate, opposite to the house in which lived part of the family of Cromwell, a house upon which we shall remark presently. In 1657 he was introduce by Milton to Bradshaw. The precise

words of the introduction ran thus:

“I present to you Mr. Marvel, laying aside those jealousies and that emulation which mine own condition might suggest to me, by bringing in such a coadjutor." His connection with the State took place in 1657, when he became assistant secretary with Milton in the service of the Protector. "I never had," says Marvel, "any, not the remotest relation to public matters, nor correspondence with the persons then predominant, until the year 1657."

After he had been some time fellowsecretary with Milton, even the thicksighted burgesses of Hull perceived the

merits of their townsman, and sent him as

their representative into the House of Commons. We can imagine the delight he felt at escaping from the crowded and stormy Commons to breath the invigorating air of his favorite hill; to enjoy the society of his former pupils, now his friends; and to gather, in

a garden of his own," the flowers that had solaced his leisure hours when he was comparatively unknown. But Cromwell died, Charles returned, and Marvel's energies sprung into arms at acts which, in accordance with his principles, he considered base, and derogatory to his country. His whole efforts were directed to the preservation of civil and religious liberty.

It was but a short time previous to the Restoration that Marvel had been chosen by his native town to sit as its representative in Parliament. The session began at Westminster in April, 1660, and he acquitted himself so honorably, that he was again chosen for the one which began in May, 1661. Whether under Cromwell or Charles, he acted with such thorough honesty of purpose, and gave such satisfaction to his constituents, that they allowed him a handsome pension all the time he continued to represent them, which was to the day of his death. This was probably the last borough in England that paid a representative. He seldom spoke in Parliament, but had much influence with the members of both Houses; the spirited Earl of Devonshire called him friend, and Prince

with his tutor."

Rupert particularly paid the greatest regard to his counsels; and whenever he voted according to the sentiments of Marvel, which he often did, it used to be said, by the opposite party, that "he had been Such certainly was the intimacy between the Prince and Marvel, that when he was obliged to abscond, to avoid falling a sacrifice to the indignation of those enemies among the governing party whom his satirical pen had irritated, the Prince frequently went to see him, disguised as a private person.

The noted Doctor Samuel Parker published Bishop Bramhall's work, setting forth the rights of kings over the consciences of their subjects; and then came forth Marvel's witty and sarcastic poem, "The Rehearsal Transposed." And yet how brightly did the generosity of his noble nature shine forth at this very time, when he forsook his own wit in that very poem, to praise the wit of Butler, his rival and political enemy. Fortune seems about this period to have dealt hardly with him. Even while his political satires rang through the very halls of the pampered and impure Charles, when they were roared forth in every tavern, shouted in the public streets, and attracted the most envied attention throughout England, their author was obliged to exchange the free air, apt type of the freedom which he loved, for a lodging in a court off the Strand, where, enduring unutterable temptations, flattered and threatened, he more than realized the stories of Roman virtue.

The poet Mason has made Marvel the hero of his "Ode to Independence," and