Much less could'st have it from the purer fire ;

The plot is complicated and obscure, and the characOur heat exhales no vapour from coarse sense,

ters are deficient in individuality. It must be read, Such as are hopes, or fears, or fond desire :

like the Faery Queen, for its romantic descriptions, Our mutual love itself did recompense.

and its occasional felicity of language. The versiThou hast no correspondence had in heaven,

fication is that of the heroic couplet, varied, like And th' elemental world, thou see'st, is free.

Milton's Lycidas, by breaks and pauses in the middle Whence hadst thou, then, this, talking monster ? even of the line. From hell, a harbour fit for it and thee. Curst be th' officious tongue that did address Thec to her ears, to ruin my content :

[The Witch's Care.] May it one minute taste such happiness, Deserving lost unpitied it lament !

Her cell was hewn out of the inarble rock, I must forbear her sight, and so repay

By more than human art; she need not knock ; In grief, those hours' joy short'ned to a dream; The door stood always open, large and wide, Each minute I will lengthen to a day,

Grown o'er with woolly moss on either side, And in one year outlive Methusalem.

And interwove with ivy's flattering twines,

Through which the carbuncle and diamond shines, JOIN CHALKHILL.

Not set by Art, but there by Nature sown

At the world's birth, so star-like bright they shone. A pastoral romance, entitled Thealma and Clear - | They sery'd instead of tapers, to give light chus, was published by Izaak Walton in 1683, with | To the dark entry, where perpetual night, a title-page stating it to have been written long | Friend to black deeds, and sire of ignorance, since by JOHN CHALKHILL, Esq., an acquaintant Shuts out all knowledge, lest her eye by chance

and friend of Edmund Spenser.' Walton tells us of Might bring to light her follies : in they went, | the author, that he was in his time a man generally The ground was strew'd with flowers, whose sweet scent, known, and as well beloved; for he was humble and Mix'd with the choice perfumes from India brought, obliging in his behaviour; a gentleman, a scholar, Intoxicates his brain, and quickly caught very innocent and prudent; and, indeed, his whole His credulous sense ; the walls were gilt, and get life was useful, quiet, and virtuous.' • Thealma and With precious stones, and all the roof was fret Clearchus' was reprinted by Mr Singer, who exWith a gold vine, whose straggling branches spread pressed an opinion that, as Walton had been silent All o'er the arch ; the swelling grapes were red; upon the life of Chalkhill, he might be altogether a This, Art had made of rubies, clusterd so, fictitious personage, and the poem be actually the To the quick’st eye they more than secm'd to grow ; composition of Walton himself. A critic in the About the walls lascivious pictures hung, Retrospective Review,* after investigating the cir- Such as were of loose Orid sometimes sung. cumstances, and comparing the Thealma with the On either side a crew of dwarfish elves acknowledged productions of Walton, comes to the Held waxen tapers, taller than themselves : same conclusion, Sir Jolin Hawkins, the editor of Yet so well-shap'd unto their little stature, Walton, seeks to overturn the liypothesis of Singer, So angel-like in face, so sweet in feature; by the following statement :- Unfortunately, John Their rich attire so diff’ring ; yet so well Chalkhill's tomb of black marble is still to be seen Becoming her that wore it, none could tell on the walls of Winchester cathedral, by which it Which was the fairest, which the handsomest deck'd, appears he died in May 1679, at the age of eighty. Or which of them desire would soon'st affect. Walton's preface speaks of him as dead in May After a low salute, they all 'gan sing, 1678 ; but as the book was not published till 1683, And circle in the stranger in a ring. when Walton was ninety years old, it is probably an Orandra to her charms was stepp'd aside, crror of memory. The tomb in Winchester cannot Leaving her guest half won and wanton-ey'l. be that of the author of Thealma, unless Walton He had forgot his herb : cunning delight committed a further error in styling Chalkhill an

Had so bewitch'd his ears, and bleard his sight, • acquaintant and friend' of Spenser. Spenser died And captivated all his senses so, in 1599, the very year in which John Chalkhill, in- | That he was not himself : nor did he know terred in Winchester cathedral, must have been born. | What place he was in, or how he came there,

should be happy to think that the Thealma was But greedily he feeds his eye and ear | the composition of Walton, thus adding another

With what would ruin him. laurel to his venerable brow; but the internal evi. dence seems to us to be wholly against such a sup

Next unto his view position. The poetry is of a cast far too high for She represents a banquet, usher'd in the muse of Izaak, which dwelt only by the side of By such a shape, as she was sure would win trouting streams, and among quiet meadows. The

His appetite to taste; so like she was nomme de guerre of Chalkhill must also have been an

| To his Clarinda, both in shape and face, old one with Walton, if he wrote Thealma; for, thirty

So voic'd, so habited, of the same gait years before its publication, he had inserted in his

And comely gesture ; on her brow in state Complete Angler' two songs, signed .Jo. Chalkhill.?

Sat such a princely majesty, as he The disguise is altogether very unlike Izaak Walton,

Had noted in Clarinda ; save that she then ninety years of age, and remarkable for his un

Had a more wanton eye, that here and there assuming worth, probity, and piety. We have no

Roll'd up and down, not settling any where. doubt, therefore, that Thealma is a genuine poem of

| Down on the ground she falls his hands to kiss,

And with her tears bedews it; cold as ice the days of Charles or James I. The scene of this

He felt her lips, that yet inflam'd him so, pastoral is laid in Arcadia, and the author, like the

That he was all on fire the truth to know, ancient poets, describes the golden age and all its

Whether she was the same she did appear, charms, which were succeeded by an age of iron, on

Or whether some fantastic form it were, Introduction of ambition, aVarice, and tyranny: Fashion'd in his imagination * Retrospective Review, vol. iv., page 230. The article ap. By his still working thoughts ; so fix'd upon 'pears to have been written by Sir Egerton Brydges, who con- His lov'd Clarinda, that his fancy strove, tributed largely to that work.

| Even with her shadow, to express his love.

137

the introduction of ambi

ing his education at Oxford, Cartwright entered [The Priesters of Diana.]

into holy orders. He was a zealous royalist, and | Within a little silent grove hard by,

was imprisoned by the parliamentary forces when L'pon a small ascent he might espy

they arrived in Oxford in 1642. In 1643, he was A stately chapel, richly gilt without,

chosen junior proctor of the university, and was also Beset with shady sycamores about:

reader in metaphysics. At this time, the poet is And ever and anon he might well hear

said to have studied sixteen hours a day! Towards A sound of music steal in at his ear

the close of the same year, Cartwright caught a As the wind gave it being :-80 sweet an air

malignant fever, called the camp disease, then preWould strike a syren mute.

valent at Oxford, and died December 23, 1643. The

king, who was then at Oxford, went into mourning A hundred virgins there he might espy

for Cartwright's death; and when his works were Prostrate before a marble deity,

published in 1651, no less than fifty copies of enWhich, by its portraiture, appear’d to be

comiastic verses were prefixed to them by the wits The image of Diana :-on their knee

and scholars of the time. It is difficult to conceive, They tender'd their devotions: with sweet airs, from the perusal of Cartwright's poems, why he Off"ring the incense of their praise and prayers.

should have obtained such extraordinary applause Their garments all alike ; beneath their paps

and reputation. His pieces are mostly short, occaBuckled together with a silver claps;

sional productions, addresses to ladies and noblemen, And cross their snowy silken robes, they wore

or to his brother poets, Fletcher and Jonson, or An azure scarf, with stars embroider'd o'er.

slight amatory effusions not distinguished for eleTheir hair in curious tresses was knit up,

gance or fancy. His youthful virtues, his learning, Crown'd with a silver crescent on the top.

loyalty, and admiration of genius, seem to have A silver bow their left hand held ; their right, mainly contributed to his popularity, and his premaFor their defence, held a sharp-headed flight,

ture death would renew and deepen the impression Drawn from their 'broider'd quiver, neatly tied of his worth and talents. Cartwright must have In silken cords, and fasten'd to their side.

cultivated poetry in his youth: he was only twenty- il Under their vestments, something short before, six when Ben Jonson died, and the compliment White buskins, lac'd with ribanding, they wore. quoted above seems to prove that he had then It was a catching sight for a young eye,

been busy with his pen. He mourned the loss of That love had fir'd before he might espy

his poetical father in one of his best effusions, in One, whom the rest had sphere-like circled round, which he thus eulogises Jonson's dramatic powers:Whose head was with a golden chaplet crown'd. He could not see her face, only his ear

But thou still puts true passion on; dost write Was blest with the sweet words that came from her.

With the same courage that tried captains fight;
Giv'st the right blush and colour unto things;

Low without creeping, high without loss of winys; [The Votaress of Diana.]

Smooth yet not weak, and, by a thorough care,

Big without swelling, without painting fair.
- Clarinda came at last
With all her train, who, as along she pass'd
Thorough the inward court, did make a lane,

To a Lady Veiled.
Opening their ranks, and closing them again
As she went forward, with obsequious gesture, So Love appear'd, when, breaking out his way
Doing their reverence. Her upward vesture

From the dark chaos, he first shed the day;
Was of blue silk, glistering with stars of gold, Newly awak'd out of the bud, so shows
Girt to her waist by serpents, that enfold

The half seen, half hid glory of the rose,
And wrap themselves together, so well wrought As you do through your veils; and I may swear,
And fashion d to the life, one would have thought Viewing you so, that beauty doth bide there.
They had been real. Underneath she wore

So Truth lay under fables, that the eye A coat of silver tinsel, short before,

Might reverence the mystery, not descry; And fring'd about with gold : white buskins hide Light being so proportion'd, that no more The naked of her leg ; they were loose tied

Was seen, but what might cause men to adore : With azure ribands. on whose knots were seen

Thus is your dress so order'd, so contrived, Most costly gems, fit only for a queen.

As 'tis but only poetry revived. Her hair bound up like to a coronet,

Such doubtful light had sacred groves, where rods With diamonds, rubies, and rich sapphires set;

And twigs at last did shoot up into gods; And on the top a silver crescent plac'd,

Where, then, a shade darkeneth the beauteous face, And all the lustre by such beauty grac'd,

May I not pay a reference to the place!
As her reflection made them seem more fair ;

So, under water, glimmering stars appear,
One would have thought Diana's self were there; As those (but nearer stars) your eyes do here;
For in her hand a silver bow she held,

So deities darkened sit, that we may find
And at her back there hung a quiver fill'd

A better way to see them in our mind.
With turtle-feather'd arrows.

No bold Ixion, then, be here allow'd,
Where Juno dares herself be in the cloud.

Methinks the first age comes again, and we
WILLIAM CARTWRIGHT.

See a retrieval of simplicity.

Thus looks the country virgin, whose brown hue WILLIAM CARTWRIGHT (1611-1643) was one of Hoods her, and makes her show even veil'd as you. Ben Jonson's adopted sons of the muses, and of his Blest mean, that checks our hope, and spurs our fear, works Jonson remarked_My son Cartwright writes Whiles all doth not lie hid, nor all appear : all like a man.' Cartwright was a favourite with O fear ye no assaults from bolder men ; his contemporaries, who loved him living, and When they assail, be this your armour then. deplored his early death. This poet was the son of A silken helmet may defend those parts, an innkeeper at Cirencester, who had squandered Where softer kisses are the only darts ! away a patrimonial estate. In 1638, after complet