Skip to main content

Full text of "John Donne, sometime dean of St. Paul's, A.D. 1621-1631"

See other formats 


of 

EDITED  BY  H,  C.  BEECHIXG,  M.A. 


JOHN   DONNE 


of 


EDITED  BY  H.  C.  BEECHING,  M.A. 
Crown  8vo,  cloth  extra,  with  Portrait,  3s.  6d. 

UNDER  the  above  title  MESSRS.  METHUEN  are  publishing  a  series 
of  short  biographies  of  the  most  prominent  leaders  of  religious  life 
and  thought.  The  following  are  ready  : — 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

JOHN  WESLEY 

BISHOP  WILBERFORCE 

CHARLES  SIMEON 

CARDINAL  MANNING 

THOMAS  CHALMERS 

LANCELOT  ANDREWES 

WILLIAM  LAUD 

JOHN  KEBLE 

AUGUSTINE  OF  CANTERBURY 

JOHN  KNOX 

JOHN  HOWE 

THOMAS  KEN 

GEORGE  FOX 

JOHN  DONNE 


In  Preparation. 


MARTIN  LUTHER 
THOMAS  CRANMER 
HUGH  LATIMER 
JOHN  CALVIN 
JOSEPH  BUTLER 
FRANCOIS  FENELON 
C.  H.  SPURGEON 


K.  H.  Hutton. 
J.  H.  Overtoil. 
G.   W.  Danicll. 
H.  C.  G.  Moule. 
A.  W.  Hutton. 
Mrs.  Oliphant. 
R.  L.  Ottley. 

W.  H.  Hutton. 

W.  Lock. 

E.  L.  Cutts. 
Florence  A.  MacCunn. 
R.  F.  Norton. 

F.  A.  Clarke. 
Thomas  HodgTcin. 
Augustus  Jessopp. 


Owen  Edwards. 
A.  J.  Mason. 
A.  J.  Carlyle. 
W.  A.  B.  Coolidge. 
H.  Rashdall. 
Viscount  St.  Gyres. 
J.  Clifford. 


Other  volumes  will  be  announced  in  due  course. 


u'af  for  L'vutn,  ^:rcrwrHMirt£,ancfwit  tn&lJTmc 

J  •""  —  ''       •*  y-  f  <*• 

count  ^fncir  0  otacn  *4affi  our  twaf  not  tnnc  . 

/•*        A  c,  ^. 

.•/-   I'carcj,   fo  mucn   rchna 
•  /^    —  ' 


_  *    y 

.  Ifnrth,  cr  /^/r;  *?/  /V;^*  ptav  mind 

Jnouar  ,  notfunq   £ut  rlic  ~ 

'&,£#*    Vaycs" 
•  .  "  fmbfcmc)  wnicn  aeairu 
-  •  -\oi'c;  ffut  rnc/crt  retrfi  Swnet,Z?  Jcares  for  jiffs  '. 

er.**!}  .jtulprl'.  .  ~\Z- 


JOHN    DONNE 

SOMETIME    DEAN    OF    ST.    PAUL'S 

A.D.    1621-1631 


BY 

AUGUSTUS    JESSOPP,    D.D. 

RECTOR  OF  SCARNING 


WITH  TWO  PORTRAITS 


METHUEN   &   CO. 

36  ESSEX   STREET,  W.C. 

LONDON 

1897 


PR 
22  W 


TO 
MY  GIFTED  AND  MUCH  VALUED  FRIEND 

HENRY  WILLETT 

I     OFFER     THIS     LITTLE     VOLUME 

A  TRIBUTE   OF   LOYALTY  AND 

HIGH   REGARD 


PREFACE 

IT  is  fifty  years  since,  as  an  undergraduate  at  Cam 
bridge,  I  projected  and  began  to  make  collections  for 
a  complete  edition  of  the  works  of  Dr.  Donne. 

In  those  days  there  was  a  great  revival  of  the 
study  of  our  seventeenth-century  divinity,  the  result 
of  the  great  Oxford  Movement.  Young  men  were 
told  that  the  great  teachers  of  that  period  were  the 
safest  and  the  wisest  guides  to  follow.  Certainly  we 
knew  none  better.  The  Textual  Criticism  of  the  New 
Testament  was  then  in  its  infancy,  and  the  New 
Theology  was  not  yet  born. 

Perhaps  it  was  just  as  well  that  publishers  shrank 
from  embarking  in  so  ambitious  a  venture  as  I  had 
contemplated ;  and  soon  circumstances  intervened 
which  took  from  me  "  the  dream  of  doing  and  the 
other  dream  of  done." 

In  1855,  however,  I  issued  a  reprint  of  Donne's 
little-known  Essays  in  Divinity,  with  a  brief  account 
of  the  author's  life.  The  critics  said  that  the  volume 
was  absurdly  overloaded  with  foolish  notes  and  an 
unnecessary  display  of  learning.  I  think  the  critics 
were  right.  When  young  men  are  in  the  happy 


viii  PREFACE 

twenties,  they  are  apt  to  "  show  off,"  especially  if 
they  are  solitary  students ;  and  I  confess  that  to  this 
day,  when  I  have  occasion  to  look  into  the  small  pages 
of  that  little  bantling  of  mine,  I  feel  as  Mr.  Pen- 
dennis  felt  when  recurring  to  one  of  his  early  reviews 
— nothing  astonished  him  so  much  as  the  erudition 
which  he  found  he  had  amassed  in  his  first  attempts 
in  criticism. 

Since  those  days  I  have  never  quite  given  up  my 
old  interest  in  the  life  and  works  of  Dr.  Donne.  The 
design  of  publishing  a  complete  edition  has  long  since 
been  abandoned ;  but  the  hope  of  issuing  the  life  and 
letters  of  the  great  Dean  I  still  clung  to,  till  the  con 
viction  forced  itself  upon  me  that  there  was  one  who 
was  better  qualified  for  such  a  task  than  I  could  ever 
hope  to  be. 

I  have  never  been  able  to  feel  much  enthusiasm  for 
Donne  as  a  poet;  and  it  is  as  a  poet  that  Donne's 
fame  has  chiefly  come  down  to  us.  Who  was  I  that 
I  should  undertake  to  deal  with  the  life  of  the  man 
whose  poetry  I  had  not  the  power  of  appreciating  at 
its  worth  ?  There  must  be  some  deficiency,  some 
obliquity,  in  my  own  mind.  It  was  only  slowly  and 
reluctantly  that  I  was  brought  to  see  that  such  a 
work  as  I  had  hoped  to  do,  only  Mr.  Edmund  Gosse 
was  fitted  to  undertake.  There  is  no  man  in  England 
who  has  written  so  exquisitely  on  Donne  as  he,  or 
shown  such  subtile  sympathy  with  his  poetic  genius. 
It  is  to  him,  accordingly,  that  I  resign  that  delightful 


PREFACE  ix 

and  honourable  task  which  I  once  hoped  to  accomplish 
myself.  It  is  from  him  that  any  adequate  and  elabor 
ate  biography  is  to  be  looked  for. 

In  the  meantime,  and  while  we  are  waiting  for  some 
thing  better,  I  have  been  glad  to  draw  up  the  following 
sketch,  which  I  hope  will  be  found  trustworthy  as  far 
as  it  goes.  I  have  dealt  with  Donne  as  one  of  the 
great  leaders  of  religion  in  his  time ;  it  is  from  this 
point  of  view  that  the  volume  should  be  read. 

There  are  two  biographies  in  literature  that  can 
never  be  superseded :  the  Life  of  Agricola  by  Tacitus 
is  one,  Izaak  Walton's  Life  of  Donne  is  the  other. 
Every  incident  which  Tacitus  mentions  in  the  Agricola 
is  probably  narrated  with  strict  accuracy :  the  same 
cannot  be  said  of  Walton's  work.  Tacitus  was  by 
nature  and  training  a  historian ;  Walton  was  a  hero- 
worshipper,  who  could  not  help  idealising  his  heroes. 
The  age  in  which  he  lived  was  comparatively  careless 
about  unadorned  historic  fact.  Devout  people  had  not 
yet  left  off  reading  the  lives  of  the  saints  for  edification, 
and  still  expected  a  certain  measure  of  panegyric  at 
the  hands  of  biographers.  It  is  not  to  be  wondered 
at  if  Walton's  Donne  should  be  full  of  mistakes  in 
matters  of  detail.  But  it  is  a  matchless  work  of  art, 
which  if  you  try  to  mend  you  can  only  spoil.  To 
retouch  it,  to  correct  it,  to  edit  it  (as  the  phrase  is), 
would  be  to  smother  it  with  learned  dust  and  ashes. 
In  our  time  we  have  substituted  photography  for 


x  PREFACE 

portraiture ;  and  so  much  more  is  known  of  Donne's 
life  now  than  could  have  been  known  to  Walton,  that 
a  new  Life,  setting  forth  the  results  of  recent  research, 
seems  to  be  required. 

If  no  authorities  are  cited  for  the  new  facts  that 
have  been  brought  forward,  that  is  no  fault  of  mine. 
I  am  told — and  I  suspect  it  is  true — that  the  gener 
ality  of  readers  would  rather  be  without  them.  In 
literature  as  in  the  ordinary  affairs  of  life  we  must 
be  content  to  trust  one  another.  If  a  man  tries  to 
cheat  his  neighbours  by  imposing  upon  their  credulity, 
he  will  not  long  escape  being  found  out.  Of  course, 
to  err  is  human ;  but,  for  myself,  I  would  not,  for  all 
that  this  world  could  give,  pass  into  that  other  world — 
the  world  of  spirits  blest — fearing  to  meet  my  great 
teacher  and  master  and  friend,  Dr.  John  Donne,  as  I 
should  fear  to  meet  him  if  consciously  I  had  borne 
false  witness  here — against  him  or  for  him. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 

CHAP.  PAGE 

INTRODUCTION      ......          1 

I.  EARLY  LIFE        .  .  ...          8 

APPENDIX — MARRIAGE  LETTERS  .  .  .29 

II.  NOSCITUR  A  Socus         .....        39 

III.  STEPS  TO  THE  ALTAR     .....        59 

IV.  A  BUNDLE  OF  LETTERS  .  .  .  .92 
V.  LINCOLN'S  INN  DAYS      .....      109 

VI.  THE  DEAN          ......      131 

VII.  DONNE  AT  ST.  DUNSTAN'S         ....      153 

VIII.  A  YEAR  OF  GLOOM         .  .  .  .  .183 

IX.  LIFE'S  EVENING  AND  THE  SUNSET        .  .  .      196 

APPENDIX  A — PEDIGREE  ....      223 

APPENDIX  B— DONNE'S  CHILDREN        .  .  .      224 

APPENDIX  C— DONNE'S  WILL    .  .  .  .226 

INDEX  .      233 


THE  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 


INTKODUCTION 

WHEN  it  is  said  that  "  great  men  are  the  product  of 
their  age,"  what  is  meant  to  be  conveyed  by  the 
phrase  is  that  every  man  who  plays  a  conspicuous 
part  in  the  history  of  his  own  country  or  of  the 
world — whether  it  be  in  politics,  literature,  or  religion 
— must  needs  be  influenced  by  his  environment. 

But  this  is  more  or  less  true  of  every  man,  and 
not  only  of  the  most  gifted  and  the  most  famous. 
We  cannot  hope  to  estimate  rightly  the  life-story  of 
either  the  obscure  or  the  most  eminent  in  their  genera 
tion,  till  we  know  something  of  the  days  in  which 
they  lived,  the  events  in  which  they  took  part,  the 
people  with  whom  they  were  brought  into  contact, 
or  the  influences  that  were  exercised  upon  them 
during  their  career. 

It  is  especially  necessary  that  we  should  know 
something  of  these  factors  when  we  are  setting  our 
selves  to  the  serious  study  of  a  life  which  has  come 
down  to  us  as  an  exemplar  life  from  an  age  and  a  state 
of  society  that  has  passed  away.  For  in  every  age 
the  greatest  are  they  who  assimilate  most  readily  and 
most  largely  all  those  elements  of  intellectual  and 


2  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

spiritual  nutrition  which  contribute  towards  the 
growth  and  building  up  of  noble  characters,  but 
which  lower  natures  take  little  heed  of,  neglect  and 
run  their  dull  course  without  regarding.  Small  men 
remain  small  in  the  best  times  or  the  worst ;  the 
great  leaders  of  mankind  more  than  keep  pace  with 
the  resistless  wheels  of  the  chariot  of  progress,  because 
they  themselves  are  the  charioteers. 

All  this  is  exemplified  with  curious  emphasis  in 
the  life  of  the  man  of  genius  who  has  been  called  the 
Poet  Preacher,  Dr.  John  Donne,  the  great  Dean  of 
St.  Paul's. 

On  his  father's  side  he  was  sprung  from  an  ancient 
Welsh  stock, — a  "  Knightly  Family,"  as  the  old  writers 
designated  such  landowners  as  could  boast  of  a 
succession  of  belted  knights  among  their  ancestors, — 
the  Dwnns  of  Dwynn  in  Eadnorshire.  Of  this  house, 
John  Donne  the  elder  appears  to  have  been  a 
younger  son,  and,  according  to  the  very  common 
practice  of  those  times,  he  was  early  sent  to  London, 
apprenticed  to  a  London  merchant,  and  in  due  course 
was  admitted  to  the  freedom  of  the  city,  and  enrolled 
in  the  ancient  Guild  of  Ironmongers.  He  exhibited 
a  great  capacity  for  business,  rapidly  succeeded  as  a 
merchant,  and  had  already  realised  a  considerable 
fortune,  when  he  died,  while  still  young,  in  January 
1576. 

On  his  mother's  side,  Dr.  Donne  was  descended 
from  the  family  of  Sir  Thomas  More,  whose  judicial 
murder,  when  he  was  Lord  Chancellor  of  England,  is 
only  too  well  known  to  us  all. 

1.  He  died  for  conscience'  sake  upon  the  scaffold 
in  1536. 


INTRODUCTION  3 

2.  Elizabeth,   a   sister   of    Sir    Thomas  More,  had 
married  John  Eastall,  one  of  our  early  printers  and 
a  barrister  of  Lincoln's  Inn.      He  too  suffered  much 
for  his  vehement  opposition  to  the  Eeformation ;  he 
is  said  to  have  witnessed  the  barbarous  execution  of 
his   brother-in-law,  and  he  himself   appears  to  have 
died  in  prison  that  same  year.     He  too  a  sufferer  for 
conscience'  sake. 

3.  Margaret  Griggs,  another  inmate  of  the  house 
of  Sir  Thomas  More,  and  a  kinswoman  and  adopted 
daughter  of  the   illustrious    Chancellor,    became    the 
wife  of  Dr.  John  Clement  about  the  year  1530.     She 
died  an  exile  for  her  faith,  at  Malines  in   1570,  and 
her  husband,  also  an  exile  for  conscience'  sake,  survived 
her  two  years,  he   too  dying  in  the   foreign   land  a 
confessor  for  the  faith  for  which  he  suffered. 

4.  Winifred,  the  daughter  of  these  two  last-named 
persons,  married   William   Eastall,  the  son   of   John 
Eastall  mentioned  above,  who  was  Sir  Thomas  More's 
brother-in-law.     William  Eastall  became  one  of  the 
Judges  of  the  Common  Pleas.      He  too,  under   the 
pressure  of  the  Elizabethan  laws  enforcing  conformity 
upon  all,  abjured  the  realm  for   the  second  time   in 
1563.      He  ended  his  days  at  Louvain  in  1565,  and 
was  buried  there  beside  Winifred,  his  wife,  who  had 
died  there  ten  years  before.      They  were  both  exiles 
in  the  foreign  land  for  conscience'  sake,  as  so  many  of 
their  kindred  had  been  before  them  and  after  them. 

5.  Elizabeth,  the  daughter  of  William  Eastall,  the 
judge,  and  Winifred,  his  wife,  married  John  Heywood, 
the  epigrammatist.     John  Heywood  narrowly  escaped 
being  hung  by  Henry  vin.,  was  high  in  favour  under 
Queen  Mary,  but  at  the  accession  of  Queen  Elizabeth 


4  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

he  felt  himself  compelled  to  retire  to  Malines,  where 
he  too  died  an  exile.  There  was  no  place  for  men  of 
his  opinions  in  his  native  land. 

6.  John    Hey  wood    had     by    his    wife    Elizabeth 
(Eastall)  three  children — two   sons   and  a  daughter. 
The  sons  were  Jasper  and  Ellis  Heywood,  two  of  the 
most  staunch  and  aggressive  supporters  of  the  Eoman 
creed  and   ritual   of   their  time,  and  two  of  the  first 
Englishmen  admitted  to  the  Society  of  Jesus.     They 
too  were  banished  the  realm  and  died  in  exile.     Let 
us  not  grudge  them,  too,  the  credit  of  having  died  far 
away  from  home  for  conscience'  sake. 

7.  The   sister  of   these   two  eminent  brothers  was 
the  mother  of  Dr.  Donne.     She  was  notorious  as  a 
"  stubborn  Papist "  all  her  life.     She  is  said  to  have 
been  seriously  despoiled  of  her  substance  for  her  non 
conformity,  though  she  lived  long  enough  to  see  the 
cruel  laws  of  the  previous  reign  greatly  relaxed  by 
the  more  tolerant  lenity  of  James  I.     But  as  she  had 
lived,  so  she  died  in  conscientious  communion  with 
the  Church  of  Eome. 

8.  To  this  long  and  miserable  catalogue  of  sufferers 
for  their  faith,  sufferers  to  whom  we  cannot  deny  the 
merit  of  sincerity  and  a  certain  measure  of  heroism 

—though  their  beliefs  were  not  as  ours  are,  and 
though  we  may  assert  with  firm  insistence  that  they 
were  on  the  wrong  side,  the  side  of  error — one  more 
name  must  be  added. 

In  May  1593  a  Eoman  priest  named  William 
Harrington  was  arrested  in  Thavies  Inn — one  of  the 
Inns  of  Law  in  Holborn — at  the  chambers  of  Donne's 
younger  brother,  Henry,  who  thereupon  was  com 
mitted  to  the  Clink  Prison  for  the  crime  of  concealing 


INTRODUCTION  5 

the  proscribed  Seminarist.  A  few  weeks  later  young 
Henry  Donne  (he  was  hardly  nineteen)  caught  jail 
fever,  and  died  in  the  prison. 

Thus  it  appears  that,  during  four  generations,  at 
least  five  blood  relations  of  Donne  had  suffered 
cruelly  in  their  persons  or  their  estates  for  what 
they  believed  to  be  the  true  faith  of  a  Christian. 
Well  might  he  say,  in  his  preface  to  the  Pseudo 
Martyr,  written  in  1610, "  No  family  (which  is  not  of 
far  larger  extent  and  greater  branches)  hath  endured 
and  suffered  more  in  their  persons  and  fortunes  for 
obeying  the  teachers  of  Eoman  doctrine."  ..."  I  had 
"a  larger  work  to  do  than  many  other  men,"  he 
adds,  "  for  I  was  first  to  blot  out  certain  impressions 
of  the  Eoman  religion  and  to  wrestle  both  against  the 
examples  and  against  the  reasons,  by  which  some 
hold  was  taken,  and  some  anticipations  early  laid 
upon  my  conscience,  both  by  persons  who  by  nature 
had  a  power  and  superiority  over  my  will,  and  others 
who,  by  their  learning  and  good  life,  seemed  to  me 
justly  to  claim  an  interest,  for  the  guiding  and 
rectifying  of  mine  understanding  in  these  matters." 

Three  years  before  John  Donne  was  born,  the  Bull 
of  Pope  Pius  v.,  proclaiming  the  excommunication  of 
Queen  Elizabeth,  was  nailed  to  the  door  of  the  Bishop 
of  London's  Palace  during  the  night  of  the  15th 
May  1570.  Next  year  the  Legislature  answered 
this  challenge  by  making  it  penal  for  any  priest  of  the 
Eoman  communion  to  absolve  or  reconcile  any  of  Her 
Majesty's  subjects,  or  exercise  any  priestly  functions 
in  the  realm.  On  the  face  of  these  enactments,  it 
was  no  longer  possible  for  any  subjects  of  the  Queen 
to  halt  between  two  opinions  in  matters  of  religion. 


6  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

Everybody's  hand  was  forced,  so  to  speak;  everyone 
had  to  take  his  stand  on  the  pope's  side  as  a 
"  Catholic,"  or  on  the  queen's  side  as  a  "  Heretic," 
or  Anglican,  which  in  those  days  was  declared  to 
mean  the  same  thing.  Keligious  toleration  in  the 
sixteenth  century  was  hardly  dreamt  of  as  a  political 
possibility,  and  the  tactics  of  the  popes  and  their 
more  fiery  and  zealous  advisers  all  went  in  the 
direction  of  making  freedom  of  thought  and  freedom 
of  opinion  impossible.  People  had  not  yet  learnt  to 
think  for  themselves ;  for  generations  they  had  been 
kept  in  leading  strings ;  and  during  the  first  twenty 
years  of  Elizabeth's  reign  the  great  majority  of 
educated  Englishmen  were  accustomed  to  and  were 
more  or  less  attached  to  the  ancient  ritual,  and 
would  have  been  glad  to  see  it  restored  with  its  old 
pomp  and  splendour. 

Meanwhile,  the  course  of  events  at  home,  and 
more  especially  abroad,  were  very  powerfully  in 
fluencing  the  feelings  and  opinions  and  prejudices  of 
the  great  bulk  of  the  nation,  arousing  in  men's  minds 
a  sturdier  and  more  passionate  patriotism,  an  in 
creasing  hatred  of  French  cruelty,  Spanish  ferocity, 
Italian  guile ;  awakening  a  spirit  of  adventure  and  a 
desire  to  travel  into  distant  lands,  while  the  growth  of 
our  trade  and  commerce  had  made  the  lust  of  wealth 
become  more  absorbing  and  restless  than  it  had  been 
among  us  probably  since  the  fourteenth  century. 

We  have  only  to  remember  that  in  the  year  1572 
the  Dutch  Republic  was  founded,  Sir  Francis  Drake 
sailed  to  Panama,  and  then  first  "stared  at  the 
Pacific."  In  that  year,  too,  the  atrocious  Massacre  of 
St.  Bartholomew's  Day  shocked  and  horrified  the  world, 


INTRODUCTION  7 

and  the  only  remaining  English  duke,  Thomas  Howard, 
suffered  upon  the  scaffold  for  what  was  commonly 
believed  to  be  an  attempt  at  rebellion — fomented  by 
the  pope,  and  suggested  by  the  King  of  Spain.  It 
was  an  Annus  Mirabilis  indeed,  the  year  before  John 
Donne  was  born. 


CHAPTER  I 

EARLY   LIFE 

JOHN  DONNE  was  born  in  the  parish  of  St.  Nicholas 
Olave,  London,  some  time  in  the  year  1573. 

His  father,  John  Donne  the  elder,  served  his 
apprenticeship  to  Mr.  James  Harvey,  afterwards  Sir 
James,  and  Alderman  of  London.  Mr.  Donne  was 
himself  admitted  to  the  freedom  of  the  City  some  time 
in  the  reign  of  Queen  Mary,  and  in  1559  he  was 
managing  the  business  of  a  rich  widow,  Mrs.  Anne  or 
Agnes  Lewen,  being  at  that  time  a  member  of  the 
Ironmongers'  Company.  Her  husband,  Thomas  Lewen, 
had  died  in  1557,  and  died  childless.  By  his  will, 
dated  20th  April  1555,  he  bequeathed  all  his  property 
in  London  and  Bucks,  which  was  very  considerable, 
to  his  widow  for  her  life,  and  after  her  death  he 
directed  that  it  should  pass  to  the  Master,  Warden, 
and  Company  of  "  the  mystery  or  occupation  "  of  the 
Ironmongers  of  the  city  of  London  and  their  successors, 
to  hold  the  same  until  such  time  as  a  new  monastery 
be  erected  at  Sawtrey,  in  the  county  of  Huntingdon, 
of  the  same  order  of  monks  as  were  then  in  the  old 
monastery  before  its  suppression,  charged  with  the 
maintenance  of  a  mass  priest  in  the  Church  of  St. 
Nicholas  aforesaid,  to  pray  and  preach  therein,  and 
prepare  other  services  as  set  out.  .  .  .  The  said 


EARLY  LIFE  9 

master  and  wardens  are  further  enjoined  to  pay 
yearly  to  the  Friars  Observants  within  the  realm  of 
England  the  sum  of  five  pounds ;  and  a  like  sum  to 
two  poor  scholars,  one  to  be  of  Oxford  and  the 
other  at  Cambridge,  towards  their  maintenance.  .  .  . 
Immediately  after  the  rebuilding  of  a  monastery  at 
Sawtrey,  the  said  master  and  wardens  are  to  pay  to 
the  abbot  or  prior  the  money  previously  devoted  to 
the  mass  priest  .  .  .  and  shall  cause  a  mass  daily  to 
be  said,  and  four  sermons  yearly  to  be  preached, 
within  the  said  monastery  for  the  good  of  his  soul. 

As  far  as  I  know,  this  is  the  first  and  last 
important  bequest  made  after  the  plunder  of  the 
monasteries  by  Henry  vm.  for  the  restoration  of  a 
suppressed  religious  house ;  and  as  the  widow  did 
not  die  till  the  26th  October  1562,  when  Queen 
Elizabeth  had  been  on  the  throne  nearly  four  years. 
Alderman  Lewen's  intentions,  so  far  as  the  rebuilding 
of  this  Cistercian  abbey  was  concerned,  were  never 
carried  into  effect,  and  the  bulk  of  the  property  is 
still  held,  I  believe,  by  the  Ironmongers'  Company, 
subject  only  to  the  charges  for  maintaining  the  two 
scholars  at  Oxford  and  Cambridge  down  to  the 
present  time. 

Mrs.  Lewen  made  her  own  will  in  Januaryl559-60, 
appointing  her  servant,  John  Donne,  now  free  of  the  said 
company,  "  one  of  her  executors,"  and  she  bequeathed 
to  him  some  very  substantial  legacies,  including  the 
"  great  messuage,  with  a  garden  attached,"  in  which  he 
resided  at  the  time  of  his  death,  and  where  it  appears 
that  all  his  children  were  born.  The  house  was 
destroyed  during  the  fire  of  London  in  1666. 

Mr.  Donne  served  the  office  of  warden  to  the  Com- 


10  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

pany  in  1574  ;  but  while  still  in  the  prime  of  life  he 
died  early  in  1576,  leaving  his  widow  with  a  large 
fortune,  and  an  ample  provision  for  each  of  his  six 
children.  Three  of  these  children  died  in  infancy. 
The  shares  of  these  three  thereupon  went  to  increase 
the  portions  of  the  two  surviving  brothers.  A  sister, 
who  received  her  portion,  lived  on  till  the  year  1616, 
as  we  shall  hear  later  on. 

By  the  untimely  death  of  young  Henry  Donne,  a 
few  weeks  before  he  came  of  age,  all  the  accumulated 
wealth  intended  to  be  divided  among  five  devolved 
upon  the  surviving  son,  John,  before  he  had  completed 
his  twenty-third  year. 

The  two  boys  were  brought  up  under  a  private 
tutor  in  their  mother's  house,  and  were  educated  with 
great  care ;  but  they  were  strictly  trained  according 
to  the  proscribed  tenets  of  the  Church  of  Eome.  As 
children  it  was  inevitable  that  they  should  be  greatly 
influenced  by  their  uncle,  Jasper  Heywood,  the  Jesuit 
Father,  who,  from  1581  till  1584,  "was  esteemed 
the  Provincial  of  the  English  Jesuits,"  and  gave  him 
self  the  airs  of  a  legate  from  the  apostolic  see,  even 
going  so  far  as  to  summon  a  Provincial  Council,  which 
resulted  in  working  much  mischief,  and  eventually 
occasioned  the  banishment  of  Father  Heywood  him 
self,  together  with  that  of  some  seventy  other  priests, 
whom  it  was  not  thought  advisable  to  deal  with 
according  to  the  full  rigour  of  the  law.  Father  Hey 
wood  was  a  prisoner  in  the  Tower  of  London  during 
the  greater  part  of  1584,  and  by  some  special  favour, 
which  remains  unexplained,  "  he  was  permitted  to 
receive  visits  from  his  sister,  who  was  able  to  bestow 
upon  him  some  care  and  nursing."  That  sister  was 


EAELY  LIFE  11 

Donne's  mother,  and  it  is  fair  to  conjecture  that  during 
some  of  those  visits  she  may  have  been  attended  by 
her  son,  already  then  a  boy  of  conspicuous  promise, 
"  with  a  good  command  both  of  the  French  and  Latin 
tongue."  It  was  probably,  too,  at  the  suggestion  and 
advice  of  their  astute  and  very  learned  uncle  (himself 
at  one  time  a  Fellow  of  All  Souls  College)  that  the 
two  brothers,  John  and  Henry  Donne,  the  one  in  his 
twelfth,  the  other  in  his  eleventh  year,  were  entered 
at  Hart  Hall,  in  the  University  of  Oxford,  on  the  23rd 
October  1584 — two  or  three  months  before  Father 
Heywood  was  sent  out  of  the  country,  never  to  return. 

It  seems  to  have  been  part  of  Jasper  Heywood's 
policy  to  induce  the  Catholic  gentry  to  send  their 
sons  to  the  English  universities  as  early  as  possible, 
that  is,  as  soon  as  they  could  be  admitted  to  matri 
culate.  The  object  was  to  give  the  lads  the  advantage 
of  a  university  training  and  familiarity  with  English 
academic  life  before  the  oath  of  allegiance  could  be 
administered  to  them.  That  oath  had  been  worded 
so  as  to  be  especially  offensive  to  the  Eomanists ;  but 
it  was  not  exacted  from  any  before  the  age  of  sixteen. 
Accordingly,  between  1581  and  1584,  eighteen  of 
these  boys  under  fourteen  were  matriculated  at 
Oxford,  and  among  them  were  the  two  brothers  with 
whom  we  are  concerned. 

Six  months  before  Donne  came  into  residence,  Sir 
Henry  Wotton,  then  a  youth  of  fifteen,  had  come  up 
from  Winchester,  and  entered  at  New  College ;  but, 
either  because  there  was  no  room  for  him  there,  or 
because  he  preferred  the  society  elsewhere,  he  removed 
to  Hart  Hall,  and  thus  the  lifelong  friendship  between 
him  and  Donne  began.  Neither  Wotton  nor  Donne 


12  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

appear  to  have  taken  a  degree  at  Oxford.  Wotton 
certainly,  and  Donne  almost  as  certainly,  left  Oxford, 
and  spent  the  next  few  years  in  foreign  travel,  each 
probably  with  the  view  of  acquiring  that  knowledge  of 
foreign  languages  in  which  they  became  proficient, 
and  so  fitting  themselves  for  the  diplomatic  service 
(as  we  should  say  nowadays)  of  which  Wotton  became 
a  distinguished  ornament,  and  in  which  Donne  again 
and  again  endeavoured,  but  fruitlessly,  to  find  a  career. 

During  these  years  of  travel  he  disappears  from  our 
view,  but  turns  up  again  in  1592,  when  on  the  6th 
May  he  entered  at  Lincoln's  Inn,  occupying  the  same 
chambers  with  Christopher  Brooke  —  a  prominent 
member  of  a  remarkable  band  of  poets  and  men  of 
letters,  the  intellectual  leaders  of  this  brilliant  period 
of  English  literature. 

It  seems  that  a  select  society,  which  numbered 
among  its  members  almost  all  the  most  gifted  wits  who 
were  the  ornaments  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  court,  used 
to  assemble  at  the  Mermaid  Tavern  in  Bread  Street, 
on  the  first  Friday  in  every  month,  to  enjoy  a  con 
vivial  meeting.  The  gatherings  continued  to  be  held 
for  several  years,  and  there  are  frequent  allusions  to 
the  proceedings  of  this  famous  club  in  the  light  litera 
ture  of  the  time.  At  the  Mermaid  there  were  wont 
to  assemble  such  men  as  John  Selden,  Inigo  Jones, 
Michael  Drayton,  John  Hoskins,  Ben  Jonson,  and 
many  another,  illustrious  as  poets,  artists,  or  scholars, 
and  others  who  rose  to  eminence  as  lawyers,  or  played 
no  mean  part  in  the  politics  of  the  country.  Shake 
speare  himself  was  a  member  of  the  club,  and  fre 
quently  attended  the  meetings ;  there  Donne  appears 
to  have  formed  some  of  the  friendships  which  lasted 


EARLY  LIFE  13 

through  his  life.  In  Francis  Beaumont's  well-known 
letter  to  Ben  Jonson,  the  poet  writes  as  follows  of 
these  meetings : — 

"  What  things  have  we  seen 

Done  at  the  Mermaid !  heard  words  that  have  been 
So  nimble  and  so  full  of  subtle  flame, 
As  if  that  everyone  from  whence  they  came 
Had  meant  to  put  his  whole  wit  in  a  jest, 
And  had  resolved  to  live  a  fool  the  rest 
Of  his  dull  life ;  then  when  there  hath  been  thrown 
Wit  able  enough  to  justify  the  town 
For  three  days  past ;  with  that  might  warrant  be 
For  the  whole  city  to  talk  foolishly 
Till  that  were  cancelled." 

Fuller's  famous  description  of  the  "  wit  combats " 
between  Shakespeare  and  Ben  Jonson 1  need  hardly 
be  quoted  here. 

Donne  soon  gained  for  himself  a  wide  reputation, 
and,  while  pursuing  his  legal  studies  at  Lincoln's  Inn, 
he  became  a  literary  celebrity  in  London.  His  grace 
ful  person,2  vivacity  of  conversation,  and  many  accom 
plishments  secured  for  him  the  entree  at  the  houses  of 
the  nobility  and  a  recognised  position  among  the  cele 
brities  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  court.  He  was  conspicu 
ous  as  a  young  man  of  fortune  who  spent  his  money 
freely,  and  mixed  on  equal  terms  with  the  courtiers, 
and  probably  had  the  character  of  being  richer  than 
he  was. 

The  tragical  end  of  his  brother  Henry  could  not 

1  Worthies  of  Warwickshire  under  Shakespeare. 

2  ' '  Dr.  Donne,  ...  a  laureate  wit ;  neither  was  it  impossible  that 
a  vulgar  soul  should  dwell  in  such  promising  features." — Racket's 
Life  of  the  Lord  Keeper  Williams,  §  74. 


14  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

but  have  been  a  great  shock  to  him,  but  even  that 
calamity  resulted  in  a  material  addition  to  his 
patrimony.  On  the  other  hand,  his  close  connection 
with  the  proscribed  Kecusants  acted  to  some  extent 
to  his  discredit,  and  we  know  that  at  the  time  of  his 
marriage  he  lay  under  some  suspicion  of  being  still 
tainted  with  sympathy  with  the  Eomanists  and  of 
being  less  than  loyal  towards  the  Anglican  creed  and 
ritual.  He  himself  strongly  protested  against  these 
insinuations,  but  they  were  repeated  nevertheless,  and 
doubtless  they  stood  in  the  way  of  his  advancement 
at  this  period. 

Walton  says  that  "  about  his  nineteenth  year  "  Donne 
"  began  seriously  to  survey  and  consider  the  body  of 
divinity  as  it  was  then  controverted  between  the 
Reformed  and  the  Eoman  Church.  .  .  .  Being  to 
undertake  this  search,  he  believed  the  Cardinal 
Bellarmine  to  be  the  best  defender  of  the  Eoman 
cause,  and  therefore  betook  himself  to  the  examina 
tion  of  his  reasons.  The  cause  was  weighty ;  and 
wilful  delays  had  been  inexcusable  both  towards  God 
and  his  own  conscience ;  he  therefore  proceeded  in 
this  search  with  all  moderate  haste,  and  about  the 
twentieth  year  of  his  age  did  show  the  Dean  of 
Gloucester  (Dr.  Anthony  Eudde)  all  the  Cardinal's 
works  marked  with  many  weighty  observations  under 
his  own  hand ;  which  works  were  bequeathed  by  him 
at  his  death,  as  a  legacy  to  a  most  dear  friend." l 

The  disastrous  termination  of  the  last  expedition 

1  "\Valion  was  careless  in  his  chronology,  and  he  has  antedated  this 
period  of  study  by  at  least  two  years.  It  is  certain  that  Donne's  study 
of  Bellarmine  extended  no  further,  at  this  time,  than  to  the  reading  of 


EARLY  LIFE  15 

to  the  West  Indies  and  the  Spanish  Main  in  1595, 
under  Drake  and  Hawkins,  and  the  continued 
rumours  of  plots  against  the  queen's  life,  which  were 
believed  to  have  had  their  origin  at  the  court  of 
Philip  II.,  led  to  the  conviction,  which  was  very 
widely  prevalent  in  England,  that  some  blow  should 
be  struck  at  Spain,  which  might  cripple  her  commerce, 
and  be  delivered  nearer  home  than  on  the  other  side 
of  the  Atlantic.  A  secret  expedition  on  a  large  scale 
was  organised  accordingly ;  and  a  fleet  of  a  hundred 
and  fifty  sail,  with  twenty-two  Dutch  ships  and  seven 
thousand  soldiers,  set  out  in  June  1596,  with  Lord 
Howard  of  Emngham  as  Lord  High  Admiral,  and 
Eobert,  Earl  of  Essex,  then  in  his  twenty-ninth  year, 
as  General  of  the  land  forces.  The  admiral's  flag 
was  hoisted  on  board  the  Ark,  Sir  George  Carew 
commanded  the  Mary  Eose,  Sir  Francis  Vere  the 
Rainbow,  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  the  Warspite,  Sir 
Robert  Southwell  the  Lion. 

Not  since  the  coming  of  the  "  Great  Armada," 
eight  years  before,  had  such  enthusiasm  been  aroused 
among  the  nobility,  or  so  splendid  a  gathering  been 
seen  of  young  men  of  family  eager  to  gain  experi 
ence  in  war,  and,  if  it  might  be  so,  distinction  in 
fighting  the  Spaniard.  The  Lord  Admiral  was  the 
veteran  hero  who  had  commanded  the  fleet  in  1588. 
He  was  sailing  in  the  very  ship  on  board  which  he 


the  famous  three  volumes  entitled  Disputationes  de 
adversus  hujus  temporis  Hcereticos,  which  were  published  in  Lyons  in 
1593,  and  it  is  probable  that  he  was  moved  to  throw  himself  into  the 
study  of  controversial  divinity,  not  only  by  the  appearance  of  this 
memorable  work,  which  created  a  great  sensation  over  all  Europe,  but 
by  the  profound  impression  which  his  brother's  death  must  have 
produced  upon  his  mind. 


16  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

had  dashed  into  the  middle  of  the  Armada  off 
Portland  on  the  22nd  July:  he  was  now  sixty  years  old. 
Sir  Eobert  Southwell  had  married  a  daughter  of  Lord 
Howard  of  Effingham,  and  had  been  rear-admiral  under 
his  father-in-law  in  the  memorable  year  of  victory. 
George  Carew  had  served  for  years  in  Ireland,  and  was 
now  Lieut. -General  of  the  Ordnance.  Sir  Francis 
Vere  had  fought  under  Leicester  in  the  Low  Countries, 
though  his  chief  laurels  were  yet  to  win.  Sir  Walter 
Raleigh,  twelve  years  before,  had  crossed  the  Atlantic, 
and  founded  the  settlement  of  Virginia ;  he  too  had 
been  one  of  the  heroes  of  the  '88  ;  but  his  ship, 
the  Warspite — a  vessel  of  eight  hundred  tons — had 
been  launched  only  three  months  before  this  new 
expedition  set  sail.  Under  leaders  such  as  these,  it 
was  no  wonder  that  every  youth  of  spirit  was  burning 
with  the  desire  to  take  part  in  the  adventure. 
Knights  and  gentlemen,  with  their  followers  amount 
ing  to  nine  hundred  in  number,  were  glad  to  serve  as 
volunteers,  and  among  the  first  who  offered  himself 
was  young  Donne.  We  are  told  that  "  he  waited 
upon  the  Earl  of  Essex,"  and  was  at  once  accepted.  It 
may  be  that  he  had  already  received  an  introduction  to 
the  great  man,  whose  younger  brother,  Walter  Devereux, 
had  entered  at  Christ  Church  a  term  before  he 
himself  had  matriculated  at  Hart  Hall,  and  who 
probably  had  been  among  his  Oxford  friends. 

Among  the  other  chivalrous  spirits  on  board  the 
admiral's  ship  in  the  Cadiz  expedition,  not  the  least 
conspicuous  of  Donne's  shipmates  were  young  Thomas 
Egerton  and  Francis  Wooley  of  Pyrford  in  Surrey, 
respectively  the  son  and  stepson  of  Sir  Thomas 
Egerton,  afterwards  Lord  Ellesmere,  who  had  been 


EARLY  LIFE  17 

made  Keeper  of  the  Great  Seal  and  Lord  High 
Chancellor  a  month  before  the  fleet  set  sail.  Between 
these  young  men  and  Donne  it  was  inevitable  that  a 
friendship  should  spring  up  which  stood  the  latter  in 
good  stead. 

The  Cadiz  voyage  had  so  brilliant  a  termination 
that  it  led  to  the  fitting  out  of  another  expedition 
next  year,  which  proved  a  disastrous  failure.  Donne, 
we  are  told,  "  was  an  eye-witness  of  those  happy 
and  unhappy  employments  " ;  he  does  not  appear  to 
have  distinguished  himself  in  the  fighting,  but  the 
Lord  Keeper's  son  was  among  those  who  were  knighted 
for  their  gallantry.  The  fleet  got  back  in  October 
1597,  and  immediately  on  his  return  to  England 
Donne  was  appointed  secretary  to  the  Lord  Keeper, 
"  by  the  favour  which  your  good  son's  love  to  me 
obtained,"  he  says,  when  writing  to  his  patron  four 
years  later.  The  secretaryship  to  the  most  exalted 
functionary  in  the  realm  was  a  position  which  any 
young  man  might  have  been  proud  to  attain  to  in  his 
twenty-third  year,  and  a  position,  too,  which  afforded  a 
prospect  of  "  some  more  weighty  employment  in  the 
state ;  for  which  his  lordship  did  often  protest  he 
thought  him  very  fit." 

Donne's  foot  was  now  upon  the  ladder ;  a  great 
career  was  before  him.  Living  "in  that  fierce  light 
which  beats  about  a  throne,"  he  was  brought  into  close 
relations  with  the  most  illustrious  personages  in  the 
realm, — admitted  to  familiar  and  confidential  inter 
course  with  the  great  ones  who  were  making  history, — 
and  winning  the  notice  and  admiration  of  people  of 
wealth  and  high  station,  who  proved  themselves  in  the 
af tertime  ready  and  eager  to  promote  his  advancement. 


18  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

The  young  man,  among  his  other  gifts,  had  the  great 
advantage  of  being  able  to  do  with  very  little  sleep. 
He  could  read  all  night  and  be  gay  and  wakeful  and 
alert  all  day.  He  threw  himself  into  the  amusements 
and  frivolities  of  the  court  with  all  the  glee  of  youth, 
but  never  so  as  to  interfere  with  his  duties.  The 
favourite  of  fortune,  he  was  too  the  favourite  of  the 
fortunate — the  envy  of  some,  he  was  the  darling  of 
more.  Those  of  his  contemporaries  who  knew  him 
intimately  speak  of  him  at  all  times  as  if  there  was 
none  like  him ;  the  charm  of  his  person  and  manners 
were  irresistible.  He  must  have  had  much  love  to  give, 
or  he  could  never  have  had  so  much  bestowed  upon  him. 
During  these  four  years  Donne's  reputation  as  a 
poet  and  wit  was  steadily  increasing.  In  the  later 
years  of  Elizabeth's  reign  there  was  a  great  deal  of 
literary  activity,  which  was  rather  in  danger  of  de 
generating  into  frivolity  and  affectation  than  rising  to 
seriousness.  People  were  happy  and  gay,  and  their 
gaiety  expressed  itself  in  playfulness  of  style — in 
songs  and  epigrams,  in  eccentricities  of  manner,  in 
far-fetched  metaphors  and  odd  fancies.  There  was  a 
continual  striving  for  effect — a  taste  for  the  fantastic, 
which  by  no  means  discouraged  obscurity  in  diction, 
when  the  substance  was  often  subordinated  to  the  form, 
and  the  thought  wrapped  up  in  verbiage,  which  some 
times  rather  concealed  than  expressed  it  in  harmonious 
language.  Donne,  in  his  earlier  writings,  may  be  said 
to  have  fallen  into  the  sins  of  his  time.  He  wrote 
much  in  verse  —  sonnets,  lyrics,  love-songs,  elegies, 
and  satires.  In  prose  he  threw  off  what  he  called  his 
"  paradoxes  "  and  problems — short  essays,  each  con 
taining  some  odd  fancy  or  whimsical  theory  ;  as,  "  That 


EARLY  LIFE  19 

Nature  is  our  worst  Guide/'  "  That  all  things  kill 
Themselves"  "  Why  doth  not  Gold  soil  the  Fingers  ?  " 
or  "  Why  do  Women  delight  much  in  Feathers  ? " 
Ben  Jonson,  though  he  admired  his  cleverness,  was 
more  than  ordinarily  severe  upon  him  for  his  rugged- 
ness.  Why  should  subtlety  of  thought  excuse  neglect 
of  rhythm  ?  Nevertheless,  the  young  poet  became 
the  rage,  and  his  writings  were  widely  circulated. 
It  was  not  the  fashion  to  print  such  trifles ;  they  were 
handed  about  in  manuscript,  discussed  at  the  ordinaries, 
read  out  in  clubs  and  coteries — the  writers  looking  for 
their  reward  in  the  shape  of  favours  from  those  to 
whom  they  were  first  presented  or  addressed,  and  not 
infrequently  in  the  shape  of  actual  pecuniary  honor 
arium.  Very  few  of  Donne's  poems  of  this  period 
were  published  during  his  lifetime,  and  many  which 
are  attributed  to  him  and  were  issued  under  his  name 
never  came  from  his  hand.  The  carelessness  with 
which  they  were  tossed  into  the  lap  of  the  public  by 
his  unworthy  son  has  rendered  it  almost  a  hopeless 
task  to  distinguish  between  what  is  spurious  and  what 
is  genuine.  Taking  them,  however,  as  we  find  them, 
—if  we  except  some  few  exquisite  passages,  which 
will  be  remembered  and  quoted  as  long  as  our 
language  and  literature  live, — it  is  difficult  to  believe 
that  these  earlier  poems  were  not  loved  for  the  poet's 
sake  rather  than  the  poet  for  the  sake  of  his  verse. 

Meanwhile,  though  Donne  was  giving  out  a  great 
deal,  he  was  taking  in  a  great  deal  more.  He  him 
self  confesses  to  "  an  hydroptic  immoderate  desire  of 
human-learning,"  which,  in  one  of  his  poems,  he  calls 
the  "  sacred  hunger  of  science."  He  was  so  large 
a  buyer  of  books  that  their  cost  made  no  inconsider- 


20  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

able  drain  upon  his  estate ;  and  his  reading  embraced 
an  extraordinary  range  of  learning,  which  his  com 
mand  of  foreign  languages  and  his  great  versatility 
tempted  him  to  widen.  He  read  with  his  pen  in  his 
hand;  annotating,  digesting,  commenting.  Nothing 
came  amiss :  scholastic  theology  and  casuistry,  civil 
and  common  law,  history,  poetry,  philosophy,  even 
medicine ;  and  all  these  subjects  studied  not  only  in 
the  language  of  the  learned,  but  in  the  vernacular  of 
France,  Italy,  and  Spain. 

About  the  time  that  Donne  had  set  sail  on  the 
Cadiz  voyage  in  1596,  the  Lord  Keeper  Egerton  had 
married,  as  his  second  wife,  Elizabeth,  the  widow  of 
Sir  John  Wooley  of  Pyrford  in  Surrey,  a  sister  of  Sir 
George  More  of  Losely,  in  the  same  county.  Sir 
George  was  lieutenant  of  the  town — a  proud  and 
ambitious  man,  pompous,  choleric,  and  fond  of  making 
speeches,  which  he  did  very  badly.  He  had  at  this 
time  an  unmarried  daughter,  a  young  lady  now  in  her 
sixteenth  year,  whom  it  appears  her  aunt,  Lady  Eger 
ton,  on  removing  to  York  House,  took  with  her  as  a 
companion.  Her  son,  Francis  Wooley,  seems  also  to 
have  resided  with  his  stepfather,  and  the  two  young 
people  may  reasonably  be  supposed  to  have  been 
intended  for  one  another,  according  to  the  match 
making  custom  of  the  time.  But  it  seems  they  grew 
up  rather  as  brother  and  sister ;  and  however  desir 
able  an  alliance  between  the  heir  of  Pyrford  and  the 
daughter  of  Sir  George  More  might  have  appeared 
to  the  latter,  such  an  arrangement  was  probably  never 
seriously  entertained  by  the  young  man  himself. 
Meanwhile,  Ann  More  and  Donne  were  necessarily 
thrown  much  together.  The  young  lady  developed 


EAKLY  LIFE  21 

rapidly,  and  in  her  budding  womanhood  she  had 
constantly  at  her  side  the  poet  secretary,  just  ten 
years  her  senior,  in  the  bloom  and  beauty  of  his 
youth,  the  peerless  universal  genius,  whom  to  look  at 
and  to  listen  to  was  to  love.  What  else  could  follow 
but  that  between  the  two  an  absorbing  passion  should 
spring  up  ?  which  soon  got  the  mastery  of  both  one 
and  the  other,  till  considerations  of  prudence,  even  of 
duty,  exercised  over  them  no  restraining  force.  How 
ever  much  Sir  George  More  may  have  expected  that 
Sir  Francis  Wooley  would  sooner  or  later  marry  his 
daughter, — though  the  marriage  of  first  cousins  was  at 
this  time  looked  upon  as  almost  more  than  undesir 
able, — yet,  as  I  have  said,  the  young  man  had  no 
thought  of  marriage.  He  went  up  to  Oxford  and 
took  his  degree  in  the  spring  of  1599;  set  up  an 
establishment  at  Pyrford  shortly  after ;  and  in  October 
1601,  young  as  he  was,  he  entered  Parliament  as 
member  for  the  borough  of  Haslemere.  He  died  un- 
wedded  in  1610. 

Meanwhile,  a  great  sorrow  fell  upon  the  Lord 
Keeper's  family.  Donne's  other  close  friend  in  the 
Cadiz  voyage,  Sir  Thomas  Egerton,  the  Lord  Keeper's 
eldest  son,  was  killed  in  Ireland  in  August  1599; 
and  five  months  later,  January  1600,  Lady  Egerton 
herself  was  carried  to  her  grave.  Over  the  great 
house  a  gloom  had  come.  From  one  passage  in  an 
early  letter  of  Donne's  to  Sir  George  More,  it  looks 
as  if  his  daughter  Ann  still  continued  for  a  while  to 
reside  at  York  House,  probably  till  the  Lord  Keeper 
married  his  third  wife,  at  the  close  of  the  year  1601. 
If  this  were  so,  Sir  George  had  really  no  one  to 
blame  so  much  as  himself  for  the  culpable  imprudence 


22  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

of  leaving  a  young  girl — by  this  time  a  young  woman 
of  eighteen — in  daily  and  hourly  communication  with 
a  susceptible  young  man  of  extraordinary  personal 
attraction  and  many  great  gifts,  and  occupying  a 
position  which  quite  justified  him  in  dreaming  of  a 
noble  alliance.  But  when  rumours  and  whisperings 
of  what  was  going  on  came  to  Sir  George's  ears — 
all  too  late — the  fond  and  ambitious  father  was 
greatly  incensed.  He  appears  to  have  behaved  with 
insulting  contempt  to  young  Donne,  treating  the  pro 
posal  of  any  marriage  between  the  lovers  as  a  thing 
not  to  be  heard  of.  He  sent  for  his  daughter  to 
Losely,  and  forbade  all  intercourse  between  the  two. 
Things,  however,  had  gone  too  far.  It  was  impossible 
to  prevent  all  intercourse  between  the  young  people. 
The  secretary  must  be  in  constant  attendance  upon 
the  Lord  Keeper,  the  Chancellor  of  the  Garter  could 
not  keep  his  daughter  away  from  all  court  entertain 
ments.  The  lovers,  even  without  intending  it,  would 
be  thrown  together  from  time  to  time ;  and  in  more 
than  one  of  his  poems,  Donne  makes  mention  of  their 
secret  interviews.  If  we  may  take  the  fourth  elegy 
as  a  recital  of  facts,  we  must  infer  that  Sir  George 
More  had  distinctly  refused  to  sanction  any  marriage, 
and  that  he  had  threatened  to  disinherit  his  daughter 
if  she  and  young  Donne  were  seen  together. 

When  the  Parliament  met  in  October  1601,  Sir 
George  was  compelled  to  be  much  in  London,  and  his 
daughter  was  with  him.  The  dissolution  took  place 
on  the  19th  December;  and  in  the  natural  course  of 
things  such  meetings  as  had  been  contrived  would 
come  to  an  end  when  Sir  George  and  his  family 
returned  for  the  winter  to  Losely.  The  lovers  could 


EARLY  LIFE  23 

bear  it  no  longer.  First,  they  plighted  their  troth  to 
one  another  in  a  solemn  contract,  and,  as  it  seems,  in 
the  presence  of  witnesses ;  and  almost  immediately 
afterwards  they  were  married.  Then  they  separated, 
the  bride  returning  to  her  father's  house. 

Perhaps  what  helped  to  precipitate  matters  was  the 
fear  lest  the  young  lady  might  be  compelled  against 
her  will  to  marry  some  more  eligible  suitor.  Such 
an  arrangement  was  not  uncommon  at  this  time,  when 
a  daughter's  hand  was  assumed  to  be  almost  absolutely 
at  the  disposal  of  her  father,  who  could  give  her  to 
whom  he  pleased. 

The  clandestine  marriage  could  not  be  kept  secret 
for  long.  Where  it  was  celebrated  we  are  not  told. 
Only  two  witnesses  are  known  to  have  been  present : 
Christopher  Brooke,  the  rising  young  barrister,  who 
shared  Donne's  chambers  with  him  in  Lincoln's  Inn, 
gave  the  bride  away,  and  his  brother  Samuel  Brooke, 
destined  to  become  eventually  Master  of  Trinity 
College,  Cambridge,  performed  the  marriage  ceremony. 

A  double  offence  had  been  committed  by  the  parties 
concerned.  First,  an  offence  against  the  Canon  Law 
in  marrying  a  girl  without  the  consent  of  her  father ; 
and  secondly,  the  civil  offence  against  the  Common 
Law.1  It  was  a  very  serious  business.  It  became 
plain  that  a  disclosure  must  be  made ;  the  only 
question  remaining  was — who  should  act  as  mediator 
between  the  bridegroom  and  his  father-in-law  ? 

On  the  last  day  of  January  or  on  the  first  of 
February  1602,  Henry  Percy,  Earl  of  Northumber 
land,  one  of  the  wealthiest  and  most  powerful  noblemen 

1  See  Treatise  oil  the  Laws  relating  to  Infants,  by  W.  Macpherson 
of  the  Inner  Temple,  London,  1847. 


24  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

in  England,  undertook  the  delicate  office ;  the  tidings 
brought  immeasurable  provocation  and  dismay  to  Sir 
George  More  ;  he  was  furious,  there  were  no  bounds 
to  his  expressions  of  indignation ;  he  would  never  be 
reconciled  to  his  daughter,  never  forgive  the  perfidious 
husband  who  had  beguiled  her ;  he  would  set  the  law 
in  its  utmost  rigour  to  bring  down  vengeance  upon  all 
concerned  in  the  nefarious  business,  nor  would  he  hear 
of  excuse,  palliation,  or  pardon.  On  the  2nd  February, 
Donne,  who  seems  to  have  been  suffering  from 
one  of  his  serious  attacks  of  illness,  addressed  a  letter 
to  Sir  George  from  his  chambers  in  the  Savoy,  giving 
a  full  account  of  the  business,  making  a  very  humble 
confession  of  his  fault,  but  beseeching  his  father-in- 
law  "  so  to  deal  in  it  as  the  persuasions  of  nature, 
reason,  wisdom,  and  Christianity  shall  inform  you,  and 
to  accept  the  words  of  one  whom  you  may  now  raise 
or  scatter,  which  are,  that  as  my  love  is  directed  un 
changeably  upon  her,  so  all  my  labours  shall  concur 
to  her  contentment  and  to  show  my  humble  obedience 
to  youself." 

So  far  from  this  letter  producing  any  good  effect, 
nothing  would  serve  but  that  the  law  should  be  set 
in  motion  without  delay.  Donne  was  committed  to 
the  Fleet  Prison,  Christopher  Brooke  was  sent  to  the 
Marshalsea,  and  his  brother  to  some  other  place  of 
confinement.  But  what  was  worst  of  all  was,  that 
Sir  George  had  peremptorily  demanded  that  the  Lord 
Keeper  should  dismiss  his  secretary ;  and  dismissed  he 
was.  Meanwhile,  the  young  bride  was  kept  in  strict 
confinement  in  her  father's  house  at  Losely,  suffering 
acutely  from  anxiety  and  grief  ;  her  husband,  who  was 
now  lying  very  ill  in  his  chambers,  was  forbidden  to 


EARLY  LIFE  25 

communicate  with  her,  and  she  was  not  spared  the 
hearing  of  certain  abominable  stories  circulated  and 
repeated  to  her  husband's  discredit.  Matters  mended 
very  slowly.  The  pair  were  kept  separate  till  the 
High  Commission  Court  should  adjudicate  upon  the 
cause  that  had  been  brought  before  it,  and  in  the 
meanwhile  Donne  was  thrown  entirely  upon  his  own 
resources  and  put  to  a  great  deal  of  expense  in  various 
ways.  Little  by  little,  however,  Sir  George  More  got 
to  see  the  necessity  of  making  the  best  of  a  bad 
business.  He  began  to  relent  when  he  found  that 
his  son-in-law  was  not  a  mere  adventurer  in  debt  and 
with  little  or  no  fortune,  as  he  had  been  represented 
to  be.  But  such  was  the  state  of  the  law  at  this 
time,  so  complicated  by  precedents  and  entanglements, 
that  it  was  not  till  the  27th  April  1602  that  the 
marriage  was  confirmed  by  the  Ecclesiastical  Court, 
and  the  pair  were  allowed  to  come  together.  By  this 
time  Sir  George  More  had  repented  of  his  folly  and 
obstinacy,  and  had  got  to  see  that  Donne  was  not  so 
unworthy  of  his  daughter's  hand  as  he  had  assumed 
him  to  be,  in  the  first  violence  of  his  exasperation ; 
and  he  even  went  so  far  as  to  ask  the  Lord  Keeper 
to  reinstate  his  late  secretary  in  his  office.  It  was, 
however,  one  thing  for  the  Lord  Keeper  to  dismiss 
his  secretary  at  the  instance  of  his  importunate  and 
choleric  brother-in-law,  and  quite  another  to  reappoint 
him  when  that  brother-in-law  had  come  to  his  senses 
and  to  a  better  mind.  Lord  Egerton  replied  with 
much  dignity  that  he  had  "  parted  with  a  friend  and 
such  a  secretary  as  was  fitter  to  serve  a  king  than  a 
subject,  yet  that,  though  he  was  unfeignedly  sorry  for 
what  he  had  done,  it  was  inconsistent  with  his  place 


26  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

and  credit  to  discharge   and  readmit  servants  at  the 
request  of  passionate  petitioners." 

Donne  had  won  his  wife,  but  the  question  now  was 
how  he  should  maintain  her  ?  Sir  George,  though 
professing  to  be  reconciled  to  the  marriage,  still  refused 
to  give  his  daughter  any  marriage  portion,  or  make 
any  settlement  upon  her ;  and  it  seems  that  he 
continued  obdurate  for  a  year  or  so,  probably  till  the 
birth  of  the  first  child,  early  in  1603.  Then  he 
agreed  to  make  an  allowance  equivalent  to  about 
£500  a  year  of  our  money.  With  this,  and  the 
remains  of  Donne's  own  fortune,  which  evidently  was 
by  no  means  all  spent,  the  young  couple  could  hardly 
be  considered  in  very  straitened  circumstances,  even 
though  they  had  been  brought  up  in  affluence.  At 
this  point,  however,  a  friend  intervened  with  sub 
stantial  assistance.  As  the  Lord  Keeper's  son  had 
been  the  means  of  introducing  Donne  to  his  father 
and  of  getting  for  him  his  place  as  secretary,  so  now 
his  stepson  came  forward  nobly  and  showed  his 
regard  for  his  former  companion-in-arms.  Mr.  Francis 
Wooley  was  not  only  the  Lord  Chancellor's  stepson, 
but  he  was  the  nephew  of  Sir  George  More.  Mr. 
Wooley  had  inherited  at  the  death  of  his  father,  Sir 
John,  Latin  Secretary  to  Queen  Elizabeth  and  one  of  the 
Privy  Council,  a  splendid  estate  at  Pyrford  in  Surrey, 
about  six  miles  from  Guildford.  The  mansion  was  a 
very  magnificent  one,  surrounded  by  a  large  park  well 
stocked  with  deer,  and  twice  during  her  reign  Queen 
Elizabeth  had  been  sumptuously  entertained  there. 
Young  Francis  Wooley  was  still  under  age  at  the  time 
of  Donne's  marriage,  but,  on  the  decree  being  pro 
nounced,  and  the  bride  having  been  restored  to  her 


EAELY  LIFE  27 

husband,  Mr.  Wooley  at  once  offered  the  young  couple 
an  asylum  at  Pyrford,  and  here  they  were  invited  to 
make  their  home.  The  invitation  was  accepted,  and 
at  Pyrford,  Donne,  his  wife,  and  at  least  one  child, 
remained  for  the  next  year  or  two.  It  is  almost 
certain  that  they  were  living  here  at  the  death  of 
Queen  Elizabeth,  on  the  24th  March  1603,  and  that 
they  were  still  residing  with  Sir  Francis  (who  was 
knighted  at  the  Charter  House  on  the  llth  May) 
when  James  I.  paid  a  state  visit  to  his  mansion  on 
the  10th  August,  passing  on  next  day  to  Sir  George 
More's  famous  seat  at  Losely.  At  the  new  court 
there  were  many  changes  going  on,  and  a  new  chance 
of  a  career  was  offered  to  an  accomplished  young  man 
with  many  friends ;  but  it  was  absolutely  necessary 
that  an  aspirant  for  court  favour  should  be  in  constant 
attendance,  and  Donne's  friends  strongly  urged  upon 
him  the  advisability  of  removing  to  London.  He  saw 
the  prudence  of  the  advice,  and  early  in  1605  he  hired 
a  house  at  Micham  in  Surrey,  then  a  favourite  place  of 
residence  for  Londoners  of  large  means  and  position. 
Sir  Nicholas  Throckmorton  Carew,  who  had  married 
another  daughter  of  Sir  George  More,  was  Lord  of 
the  Manor  of  Micham ;  Sir  Thomas  Grymes,  another 
brother-in-law,  lived  hard  by  at  Camberwell ;  and 
Sir  Julius  Caesar,  Master  of  the  Eolls,  and  a  great 
friend  of  Donne's,  had  a  splendid  house  in  the  parish, 
where  Queen  Elizabeth  had  been  entertained  in 
September  1598.  Thus  Donne  was  among  his  friends 
and  connections.  At  Micham  he  continued  to  reside 
for  at  least  five  years ;  during  which  time  five  of  his 
children  were  born,  four  of  whose  names  are  to  be 
found  in  the  register  of  baptisms  of  the  parish.  Mean- 


28  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

while,  he  had  taken  a  lodging  for  himself  in  the 
Strand  that  he  might  be  near  Whitehall.  He  was 
warmly  welcomed  by  his  old  friends  and  by  many  of 
the  nobility  and  people  of  influence  and  position,  who 
hoped  to  further  the  young  man's  interest,  while,  as 
the  fashion  was,  they  acted  the  part  of  patrons  by 
giving  him  from  time  to  time  substantial  assistance. 
But  as  for  any  preferment,  none  came. 

"He  waited,  and  learned  waiting  .  .  . 
Spending  youth  in  splendid  lacquey  work, 
And  famished  with  the  emptiness  of  hope." 


APPENDIX  TO  CHAPTEE  I 

MARRIAGE    LETTERS 

IN  no  department  of  literature  is  the  diversity  of 
the  style  and  language  of  the  writers  of  the  nineteenth 
and  of  the  seventeenth  century  more  strongly  marked 
than  in  the  letters  of  courtesy  and  friendship  of  the 
two  periods  respectively.  Even  the  most  cordial 
and  affectionate  letters  of  the  earlier  time  appear  to 
us  so  stilted  and  artificial  that  we  find  it  hard  to 
believe  the  writers  were  sincere  in  their  expressions, 
or  were  not  playing  a  part.  The  obscurity  and  the 
pedantry,  as  they  appear  to  us,  are  irritating  to 
modern  readers.  We  cannot  understand  why  men 
should  have  wrapped  up  their  meaning  in  such 
involved  sentences,  or  been  content  to  say  what  they 
had  to  say  in  language  so  obscure  and  so  unrhythmi 
cal.  Yet,  long  before  Donne  had  made  for  himself 
a  reputation  as  a  theologian  and  preacher,  he  had  got 
to  be  regarded  as  one  of  the  great  letter- writers  of  his 
time.  There  is,  even  now,  a  curious  fascination  about 
his  letters  for  those  who  have  once  become  in  touch 
and  sympathy  with  the  writer ;  but,  as  Donne  can 
never  be  the  poet  of  the  many,  so  as  a  letter-writer,  I 
think,  he  can  be  attractive  at  first  reading  only  to  the 
few.  Nevertheless,  I  think  it  only  fair  to  him,  at 
this  point  in  his  biography,  to  give  the  reader  some 

29 


30  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

example  of  his  epistolary  style,  and  in  doing  so  I 
have  thought  fit  to  furnish  a  brief  selection  from  such 
of  his  letters  as  are  more  or  less  autobiographical,  and 
the  rather,  because  several  of  these  are  known  but  to 
few,  and  are  only  accessible  in  volumes  which  are 
scarce  or  rarely  met  with  in  private  libraries. 

The  earliest  letters  of  Donne's  which  have  come 
down  to  us  are  those  which  give  us  some  curious 
information  regarding  his  marriage.  The  first  was 
evidently  the  letter  which  gave  the  earliest  intelligence 
to  Sir  George  More  of  what  had  happened  six  weeks 
before,  and  was  not  improbably  delivered  by  the  Earl 
of  Northumberland.  Donne  seems  to  have  been  very 
ill  at  the  time  he  sent  the  letter,  but  this  did  not 
prevent  his  being  at  once  thrown  into  the  Fleet 
Prison.  From  thence  he  was  removed  to  the  Marshal- 
sea  a  fortnight  later,  and  set  at  liberty  upon  his  own 
recognisances  a  few  days  later.  These  letters  were 
first  published  in  1835,  and  have  never  been  reprinted 
till  now. 


[JOHN  DONNE  to  SIR  GEORGE  MORE  of  Losely 
House,  Surrey,  2nd  February   1602.] 

"  Sin, — If  a  very  respective  fear  of  your  displeasure, 
and  a  doubt  that  my  lord  (whom  I  know,  out  of 
your  worthiness,  to  love  you  much)  would  be  so 
compassionate  with  you  as  to  add  his  anger  to  yours, 
did  not  so  much  increase  my  sickness  as  that  I 
cannot  stir,  I  had  taken  the  boldness  to  have  done 
the  office  of  this  letter  by  waiting  upon  you  myself 
to  have  given  you  truth  and  clearness  of  this  matter 


MARRIAGE  LETTERS  31 

between  your  daughter  and  me,  and  to  show  you 
plainly  the  limits  of  our  fault,  by  which  I  know  you 
will  proportion  the  punishment. 

"  So  long  since  as  her  being  at  York  House  this 
had  foundation,  and  so  much  then  of  promise  and 
contract  built  upon  it  as,  without  violence  to  con 
science,  might  not  be  shaken. 

"  At  her  lying  in  town  this  Parliament,  I  found 
means  to  see  her  twice  or  thrice.  We  both  knew 
the  obligation  that  lay  upon  us,  and  we  adventured 
equally ;  and  about  three  weeks  before  Christmas  we 
married.  And  as  at  the  doing  there  were  not  used 
above  five  persons,  of  which  I  protest  to  you  by  my 
salvation,  there  was  not  one  that  had  any  dependence 
or  relation  to  you,  so  in  all  the  passage  of  it  did  I 
forbear  to  use  any  such  person,  who  by  furtherance 
of  it  might  violate  any  trust  or  duty  towards  you. 

"  The  reasons  why  I  did  not  foreacquaint  you  with 
it  (to  deal  with  the  same  plainness  I  have  used)  were 
these : — I  knew  my  present  estate  less  than  fit  for 
her.  I  knew  (yet  I  knew  not  why)  that  I  stood 
not  right  in  your  opinion.  I  knew  that  to  have 
given  any  intimation  of  it  had  been  to  impossibilitate 
the  whole  matter.  And  then,  having  these  honest 
purposes  in  our  hearts  and  these  fetters  in  our 
consciences,  methinks  we  should  be  pardoned,  if  our 
fault  be  but  this,  that  we  did  not,  by  forerevealing  of 
it,  consent  to  our  hindrance  and  torment. 

"  Sir,  I  acknowledge  my  fault  to  be  so  great,  as  I 
dare  scarce  offer  any  other  prayer  to  you  in  mine 
own  behalf  than  this,  to  believe  that  I  neither  had 
dishonest  end  nor  means.  But  for  her,  whom  I 
tender  much  more  than  my  fortunes  or  life  (else  I 


32  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

would,  I  might  neither  joy  in  this  life  nor  enjoy  the 
next),  I  humbly  beg  of  you  that  she  may  not,  to  her 
danger,  feel  the  terror  of  your  sudden  anger. 

"  I  know  this  letter  shall  find  you  full  of  passion  ; 
but  I  know  no  passion  can  alter  your  reason  and 
wisdom,  to  which  I  adventure  to  commend  these 
particulars ;  that  it  is  irremediably  done ;  that  if  you 
incense,  my  lord,  you  destroy  her  and  me ;  that  it  is 
easy  to  give  us  happiness,  and  that  my  endeavours 
and  industry,  if  it  please  you  to  prosper  them,  may 
soon  make  me  somewhat  worthier  of  her. 

"  If  any  take  the  advantage  of  your  displeasure 
against  me,  and  fill  you  with  ill  thoughts  of  me,  my 
comfort  is  that  you  know  that  faith  and  thanks  are 
due  to  them  only  that  speak  when  their  informations 
might  do  good.  .  .  . 

"  Sir,  I  have  truly  told  you  this  matter,  and  I 
humbly  beseech  you  so  to  deal  in  it  as  the  persuasions 
of  nature,  reason,  wisdom,  and  Christianity  shall 
inform  you ;  and  to  accept  the  vows  of  one  whom  you 
may  now  raise  or  scatter — which  are,  that  as  my 
love  is  directed  unchangeably  upon  her,  so  all  my., 
labours  shall  concur  to  her  contentment,  and  to 
show  my  humble  obedience  to  yourself. 

"  Yours  in  all  duty  and  humbleness, 

"J.  DONNE. 

"  From  my  lodging  ly  the  Savoy, 
2nd  February  1601-2. 

"  To  the  Right  Worshipful  SIR  GEORGE  MORE,  KT." 


[The  next  letter,  it  will  be  observed,  was  written 
ten    days   later   from   the    Fleet   Prison,   into   which 


MARRIAGE  LETTERS  33 

Donne  was  thrown,  immediately  after  the  secret  of 
the  marriage  was  disclosed.] 

II. 

[JOHN  DONNE  to  the  Lord  Keeper, 
SIR  THOMAS  EGERTON.] 

"  To  excuse  my  offence,  or  so  much  to  resist  the 
just  punishment  for  it,  as  to  move  your  lordship  to 
withdraw  it,  I  thought  till  now  were  to  aggravate  my 
fault.  But  since  it  hath  pleased  God  to  join  with  you 
in  punishing  thereof  with  increasing  my  sickness,  and 
yet  that  He  gives  me  now  audience  by  prayer,  it 
emboldeneth  me  also  to  address  my  humble  request 
to  your  lordship,  that  you  would  admit  into  your 
favourable  consideration  how  far  my  intentions 
were  from  doing  dishonour  to  your  lordship's  house, 
and  how  unable  I  am  to  escape  utter  and  present 
destruction,  if  your  lordship  judge  only  of  effect  and 
deed. 

"  My  services  never  had  so  much  worth  in  them  as 
to  deserve  the  favours  wherewith  they  were  paid ;  but 
they  had  always  so  much  honesty  as  that  only  this 
hath  stained  them.  Your  justice  hath  been  merciful 
in  making  me  know  my  offence,  and  it  hath  much 
profited  me  that  I  am  dejected,  since  then  I  am  so 
entirely  yours  that  even  your  disfavours  have  wrought 
good  upon  me.  I  humbly  beseech  you  that  all  my 
good  may  proceed  from  your  lordship,  and  that  since 
Sir  George  More,  whom  I  leave  no  humble  way 
unsought  to  regain,  refers  all  to  your  lordship,  you 
would  be  pleased  to  lessen  that  correction  which  your 
just  wisdom  hath  destined  for  me,  and  so  to  pity  my 
3 


34  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

sickness  and  other  misery  as  shall  best  agree  with 
your  honourable  disposition. 

"  Almighty  God  accompany  all  your  lordship's  pur 
poses,  and  bless  you  and  yours  with  many  good  days. 

"  Your  lordship's  most  dejected  and  poor  servant, 

"JOHN  DONNE. 

"FLEET,  12  Febr.  1601-2." 

The  following  letter  has  only  very  recently  come 
into  my  hands,  and  has  never  yet  been  printed.  It 
shows  that  Donne  at  the  date  on  which  it  was  written 
quite  expected  that  his  offence  would  be  condoned, 
and  that  his  dismissal  from  the  secretaryship  would 
be  revoked.  Lord  Ellesmere's  refusal  to  reconsider 
the  sentence  he  had  passed  evidently  burst  upon 
Donne  as  a  thunderclap.  On  the  23rd  of  February 
he  was  evidently  in  high  spirits,  and  believed  that  he 
would  be  reinstated  in  his  office.  Before  a  week  had 
passed  he  quite  realised  that  he  was  a  ruined  man. 

This  letter  has  been  long  in  the  possession  of  Miss 
Alicia  Donne,  of  Chester.  It  bears  the  evidence  of 
having  been  carelessly  copied  by  some  sixteenth-century 
scribe,  who  was  not  very  familiar  with  Donne's  hand. 
I  copy  it  with  all  its  errors,  retaining  the  spelling. 
It  was  evidently  addressed  to  Sir  Henry  Goodere  of 
Poles  worth : — 

in. 

"  SIR, — Of  myselfe  (who,  if  honesty  were  precious, 
were  worth  the  talking  of)  let  me  say  a  little.  The 
Commissioners  by  Imprisoning  the  witnesses  and  ex 
communicating  all  us  have  implicitie  [sic]  instified  our 
Marriage.  Sir  George  will,  as  I  heare,  keepe  her  till 


MARRIAGE  LETTERS  35 

I  send  for  her :  and  let  her  remayne  there  yett,  his 
good  nature  and  her  Sorrow  will  worke  somethinge. 
I  have  liberty  to  ride  abrode  and  feele  not  much  of 
an  Imprisonment.  For  my  retorne  to  my  L :  and  Sir 
George  his  pacification,  you  know  my  meanes,  and 
therefore  my  hopes.  Of  Ostend,  it  is  said  there 
hath  been  a  new  blow  given  .  losses  of  men  somwhat 
equall,  but  the  Enemy  hath  recovered  a  trench  which 
Sir  Fr  [Yere]  :  had  held  out  of  the  Towne.  The  states 
have  honored  him  by  publishing  an  Edict  with  sharpe 
punishment  to  any  that  speke  dishonorably  of  his 
party  with  the  Arch  D :  If  the  Emperor  were  dead 
before  you  went,  perchance  he  is  buryed  by  this  time. 
I  hope  sombody  els  hath  had  the  yll  luck  to  tell  you 
first,  that  the  yonge  Bedford  is  dead.  The  K :  of 
Spaine  intends  to  spend  this  Somer  in  Italy.  And 
there  I  thinke  by  that  tyme  wil  be  our  Lords  of  Pem 
broke,  Wylloughby,  and  Worster.  The  Lo :  Deputy 
hath  cut  off  some  of  Tyrrels  now  lately  but  no  greate 
number.  I  send  this  Letter  to  aske  the  way  to  Poles- 
worth  :  If  I  heare  it  finde  it  [sic],  I  shall  cost  you  halfe 
an  houre  a  weeke  to  reade  the  rest.  I  heare  nothing 
of  your  Warrant  from  Mr.  Andrew  Lee.  Take  my  love 
and  honesty  into  the  good  opinion,  and  comend  my 
poore  unworthie  thanks  and  service  to  your  good  Lady  : 

"23d  Febr:  1601[-2]:  from  my  chamber  at  Mr. 
Haines  his  house  by  the  Savoye  (for  this  Language 
your  supscriptions  use). 

"  Your  true  certeyne  frind,  Jo  :  DONNE  : " 


Just  a  week  after  this  letter  was  despatched,  the 
outlook  had  entirely  changed.     Hitherto  Donne  had 


36  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

hardly  realised  the  seriousness  of  the  crisis,  but  the 
Lord  Keeper  strongly  resented  the  outrage  done  by 
his  secretary  in  entering  into  an  engagement  to 
marry  Sir  George  More's  daughter  whilst  she  was 
actually  an  inmate  at  York  House.  Sir  George  was 
prepared  to  make  the  best  of  the  business.  The 
Lord  Keeper  would  not  condone  it.  He  was  in 
exorable,  and  Donne  was  dismissed  with  disgrace 
from  a  position  which  he  was  eminently  qualified 
to  fill,  and  was  turned  loose  upon  the  world,  to 
begin  life  anew  with  a  stain  upon  his  name.  The 
following  pathetic  letter  of  remonstrance  produced 
no  effect.  It  shows  that  the  writer  understood  only 
too  well  that  his  career  was  spoilt,  and  that  he 
had  nothing  to  do  but  to  submit  to  the  inevitable 
consequences  of  his  serious  misconduct. 

IV. 

[DONNE  to  Sir  THOMAS  EGEKTON.] 

"  That  offence,  which  was  to  God  in  this  matter, 
His  mercy  hath  assured  my  conscience  is  pardoned. 

"  The  Commissioners  who  minister  His  anger  and 
mercy  incline  also  to  remit  it.1 

"  Sir  George  More,  of  whose  learning  and  wisdom  I 
have  good  knowledge,  and  therefore  good  hope  of  his 
moderation,  hath  said  upon  his  last  going  that  he  was 
so  far  from  being  any  cause  or  mover  of  any  punish 
ment  or  disgrace,  that  if  it  fitted  his  reputation  he 
would  be  a  suitor  to  your  lordship  for  my  restoring. 

1  The  allusion  is  to  the  special  Commissioners  who  were  appointed 
to  report  and  adjudicate  upon  the  validity  of  the  marriage,  and  the 
offence  committed  by  the  parties  concerned. 


MARRIAGE  LETTERS  37 

All  these  irons  are  knocked  off,  yet  I  perish  in  as 
heavy  fetters  as  ever  whilst  I  languish  under  your 
lordship's  anger. 

"  How  soon  my  history  is  despatched  !  I  was  care 
fully  and  honestly  bred;  enjoyed  an  indifferent  fortune; 
I  had  (and  I  had  understanding  enough  to  value  it)  the 
sweetness  and  security  of  a  freedom  and  independency, 
without  marking  out  to  my  hopes  any  place  of  profit. 
I  had  a  desire  to  be  your  lordship's  servant,  by  the 
favour  which  your  good  son's  love  to  me  obtained.  I 
was  four  years  your  lordship's  secretary,  not  dishonest 
nor  greedy.  The  sickness  of  which  I  died  is  that  I 
began  in  your  lordship's  house  this  love.  When  I 
shall  be  buried  I  know  not.  It  is  late  now  for  me 
...  to  begin  that  course  which  some  years  past  I 
purposed  to  travel,1  though  I  could  now  do  it  not 
much  disadvantageously.  But  I  have  some  bridle 
upon  me  now  more  than  then  by  my  marriage  '  of 
this  gentlewoman ;  in  providing  for  whom  I  can  and 
will  show  myself  very  honest,  though  not  so  fortunate. 

"  To  seek  preferment  here  with  any  but  your  lord 
ship  were  a  madness.  Every  great  man  to  whom  I 
shall  address  any  such  suit  will  silently  dispute  the 
case,  and  say, '  Would  any  Lord  Keeper  so  disgraciously 
have  imprisoned  him  and  flung  him  away  if  he  had 
not  done  some  other  great  fault  of  which  we  hear 
not  ? '  So  that  to  the  burden  of  my  true  weaknesses 
I  shall  have  this  addition  of  a  very  prejudicial  sus 
picion  that  I  am  worse  than  I  hope  your  lordship 
doth  think  me,  or  would  that  the  world  should  think. 
I  have  therefore  no  way  before  me,  but  must  turn 

1  Referring  to  his  earlier  intention  of  adopting  the  profession  of  the 
law. 


38  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

back  to  your  lordship, — who  knows  that  redemption 
was  no  less  a  work  than  creation. 

"  I  know  my  fault  so  well,  and  so  will  acknowledge 
it,  that  I  protest  I  have  not  so  much  as  inwardly 
grudged  or  startled  at  the  punishment.  I  know  your 
lordship's  disposition  so  well,  as  though  in  course 
of  justice  it  be  of  proof  against  clamours  of  offenders, 
yet  it  is  not  strong  enough  to  resist  itself,  and  I 
know  itself  naturally  inclines  it  to  pity.  I  know 
mine  own  necessity,  out  of  which  I  humbly  beg 
your  lordship  will  so  much  intender  your  heart 
towards  me,  as  to  give  me  leave  to  come  into  your 
presence.  Affliction,  misery,  and  destruction  are  not 
there ;  and  everywhere  else  where  I  am  they  are. 

"  Your  lordship's  most  poor  and  most  penitent 
servant, 

"J.  DONNE. 

"1  Martii  1601[-2]. 

"  To  the  Eight  Honourable  my  very  good  Lord  and 
Master,  SIR  THOMAS  EGERTON,  Knight,  Lord 
Keeper  of  the  Great  Seal  of  England." 


CHAPTER  II 

NOSCITUR  A  SOCIIS 
DONNE  AND  HIS  FRIENDS 

WE  have  seen  that  the  messenger  who  undertook  to 
carry  the  news  of  Donne's  marriage  to  Sir  George 
More  was  the  Earl  of  Northumberland,  at  that  time 
one  of  the  most  conspicuous  noblemen  in  England. 
The  earl  was  a  very  munificent  personage  and  a 
liberal  patron  of  men  of  genius,  especially  such  as 
shared  his  own  enthusiasm  for  mathematical  studies. 
Indeed,  from  his  constant  companionship  with  John 
Dee,  the  mathematician  and  visionary,  and  Thomas 
Harriott,  the  astronomer,  the  earl  got  to  be  known  by 
the  name  of  Harry  the  Wizard,  and  he  was  believed 
by  the  multitude  to  be  a  practiser  of  the  black  art. 
How  this  unfortunate  nobleman  became  accused  of 
complicity  in  the  Gunpowder  Plot,  how  he  was  cruelly 
plundered,  heavily  fined,  and  kept  a  prisoner  for  more 
than  fifteen  years  in  the  Tower,  while  Sir  Walter 
Raleigh  was  suffering  from  his  long  imprisonment  in 
another  part  of  the  same  grim  fortress,  and  "  taking 
exercise  upon  the  leads,"  may  be  read  in  our  ordinary 
handbooks  of  English  history.  During  their  long 
incarceration,  these  two  illustrious  victims  of  shameful 
oppression  were  allowed  in  each  case  to  receive  visitors 

39 


40  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

pretty  freely,  and  the  earl  still  managed  to  keep  up 
some  little  hospitality,  and  was  surrounded  by  scholars 
and  men  of  bright  intellect,  who  interested  him  in  the 
inquiries  and  discoveries  that  were  going  on  outside. 
That  young  John  Donne  was  one  of  those  who  found 
his  way  into  the  presence  of  his  noble  friend  during 
his  captivity  we  cannot  doubt.  At  anyrate,  some 
months  after  his  release  from  the  Tower  in  1621,  we 
find  Donne  dining  with  him  at  Sion  House,  where 
Northumberland  then  resided.  It  would  be  difficult 
to  believe  that  the  friendly  intercourse  which  had 
been  so  close  in  1600  would  have  been  renewed  after 
twenty  years,  unless  cordial  relations  had  been  kept 
up  between  the  two  friends  in  the  meantime. 

In  October  1600 — less  than  a  year  after  the  death 
of  his  second  wife,  who  it  will  be  remembered  was  Sir 
George  More's  sister — the  Lord  Keeper  took  to  himself 
a  third  wife  ;  and  this  time  the  alliance  was  a  splendid 
one.  The  lady  whom  he  married  was  Alice,  daughter 
of  Sir  John  Spencer  of  Althorpe,  widow  of  Ferdinand, 
fifth  Earl  of  Derby,  to  whom  she  had  borne  three 
daughters,  co-heiresses  to  a  great  inheritance.  These 
daughters  became  members  of  the  Lord  Keeper's 
family,  and  took  up  their  residence  at  York  House. 
The  second,  Frances,  was  promptly  married  to  the 
Lord  Keeper's  son,  subsequently  Earl  of  Bridgewater ; 
the  eldest,  Ann,  became  the  wife  of  Grey  Brydges, 
fifth  Baron  Chandos  of  Sudely,  celebrated  even  in 
that  prodigal  age  for  the  profuseness  of  his  hospitali 
ties,  and  called  the  "King  of  the  Cotswolds";  the  third, 
Elizabeth,  three  weeks  after  Donne's  marriage,  and 
before  the  secret  had  been  made  known,  became  the 
wife  of  Henry  Hastings,  fifth  Earl  of  Huntingdon, 


DONNE  AND  HIS  FRIENDS  41 

neither  bride  nor  bridegroom  having  yet  completed  their 
fifteenth  year.  It  is  significant  that,  so  far  from 
Donne's  relations  with  the  Countess  of  Derby  and  her 
daughters  having  become  in  any  way  weakened,  or  their 
affection  and  admiration  for  him  forfeited  by  his 
marriage,  they  all  continued  among  his  devoted  friends 
to  the  end  of  their  respective  lives,  Lady  Huntingdon 
especially  being  a  frequent  correspondent,  and  always 
delighting  in  his  society. 

Lady  Huntingdon  grew  to  be  one  of  the  leaders  of 
fashion  at  the  court  of  James  I.,  and  her  salons  were 
frequented  by  men  of  letters  and  conversationalists, 
who  always  found  a  cordial  welcome. 

There  were  many  others  among  the  nobility  and 
courtiers  with  whom  Donne's  duties  as  secretary  to 
the  Lord  Keeper  brought  him  from  time  to  time  into 
confidential  intimacy.  When  Kichard  Herbert,  Esq., 
of  Montgomery  Castle,  died  in  1596,  leaving  Edward 
Herbert,  afterwards  Lord  Herbert  of  Cherbury,  as  his 
heir,  Sir  George  More  managed  to  procure  for  himself 
the  guardianship  of  the  precocious  lad,  then  a  gentle 
man  commoner  at  University  College,  Oxford,  and  in 
his  fifteenth  year.  In  1599  he  married.  A  little 
later  his  mother,  Magdalen  Herbert,  took  a  house  in 
Oxford,  and  settled  there  with  her  large  young  family. 
During  this  period  Donne  was  apparently  sent  down 
by  the  Lord  Keeper  on  some  matters  of  business, 
probably  connected  with  Sir  George  More's  guardian 
ship.  It  was  Donne's  first  introduction  to  Mrs. 
Herbert,  and  his  first  introduction,  too,  to  her  son, 
George  Herbert,  who  at  this  time  was  a  boy  of  seven 
or  eight  years  old.  The  visit  was  the  beginning  of  a 
lifelong  friendship  with  the  Herberts — a  friendship 


42  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

which  grew  and  strengthened  and  continued  till  the 
end  of  Donne's  life.  He  corresponded  frequently 
with  Lord  Herbert  of  Cherbury,  bequeathed  a  ring 
with  one  of  the  famous  anchor  seals  to  George  Herbert, 
then  in  residence  at  Bemerton ;  and  in  1627  he 
preached  what  may  perhaps  be  called  his  most 
pathetic  and  most  eloquent  sermon  at  the  funeral  of 
Magdalen  Herbert,  who,  by  her  second  marriage,  had 
become  Lady  Danvers.  It  was  probably  through  Sir 
Edward  Herbert  that  Donne  became  acquainted  with 
Sir  Thomas  Lucy,  grandson  of  Shakespeare's  Justice 
Shallow,  a  gentleman  of  literary  tastes  and  possessing 
a  large  library.  To  him  Donne  addressed,  as  early  as 
1607,  one  of  his  most  thoughtful  and  elaborate  letters. 
Donne's  great  patron  and  admirer  at  this  earlier 
period  of  his  life,  however,  was  Lucy,  Countess  of 
Bedford,  whom  her  contemporaries  called  "  The 
friend  of  the  Muses."  She  was  the  daughter  of  Sir 
John  Harrington  of  Exton,  the  most  considerable 
magnate  in  the  county  of  Rutland.  Sir  John  claimed 
descent  from  the  Bruces,  and  the  claim  was  allowed 
by  James  I.,  who  was  never  slow  to  receive  into  favour 
those  whom  he  considered  to  have  royal  blood  in 
their  veins.  His  daughter  Lucy  was  married  in 
1594  to  Edward  Russell,  third  Earl  of  Bedford;  the 
bride  was  in  her  teens,  the  bridegroom  in  his  twentieth 
year.  He  had  succeeded  to  the  earldom  at  the  death 
of  his  grandfather  in  1585,  and  appears  to  have  been 
a  man  of  no  particular  force  of  character ;  he  was  of 
weakly  constitution  and  retired  habits,  was  paralysed 
before  he  was  thirty,  and  was  quite  content  that  his 
countess  should  play  her  part  in  the  gaieties  of  the 
court,  while  he  lived  retired  at  Moor  Park  or  Chenies, 


DONNE  AND  HIS  FRIENDS  43 

The  Countess  of  Bedford  was  one  of  the  most  lovely 
and  gifted  ladies  of  her  time.  Her  ambition,  above 
all  things,  was  to  be  considered  a  patron  of  literature 
and  literary  men.  The  gardens  at  her  house  at 
Twickenham,  where  she  kept  up  her  hospitalities  on 
a  sumptuous  scale,  were  famous  for  the  assemblies  of 
poets,  wits,  and  whoever  else  happened  to  be  the 
intellectual  celebrities  of  the  hour.  She  herself 
wrote  verses — sometimes  exchanging  her  own  effusions 
with  those  of  her  guests  who  had  presented  her  with 
a  song  or  a  sonnet.  She  exacted  from  her  favourites 
the  frequent  homage  of  their  offerings  in  letters  and 
poems.  She  delighted  in  startling  subjects  of  con 
versation,  which  others  might  take  part  in ;  her 
entertainments  were  veritable  intellectual  feasts,  at 
which  she  presided  as  mistress  of  the  board.  Grace 
ful  and  highly  cultured,  rich  and  lavish  in  her  bounty, 
with  a  refined  taste  in  art  and  literature,  and  always 
on  the  watch  to  attract  men  of  genius  to  her  side,  it 
was  not  long  before  Donne  found  himself  among  the 
regular  attendants  at  her  court, — for  at  Twickenham 
the  semblance  of  a  court  was  kept  up  as  if  the 
Countess  of  Bedford  had  been  a  royal  personage. 

Lady  Bedford  appears  to  have  taken  up  young 
Donne  before  his  marriage, — how  soon  it  is  impossible  to 
say.  Her  father's  sister  was  the  wife  of  Francis,  Lord 
Hastings,  and  it  was  their  son  Henry,  Earl  of  Hunt 
ingdon,  who  married  Elizabeth,  the  Lord  Keeper's  step 
daughter  and  ward,  of  whom  we  have  already  spoken. 
Thus  Lady  Huntingdon  and  Lady  Bedford  were  first 
cousins.  This  may  perhaps  have  brought  the  young 
secretary  under  the  personal  notice  of  her  ladyship;  but 
so  fashionable  a  man  of  letters  as  Donne  had  by  this  time 


44  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

become  was  not  likely  to  escape  the  fascinations  of  the 
great  lady,  with  her  enthusiasm  for  literature,  her 
eagerness  to  excel,  her  love  of  patronising  notorieties, 
and  her  craving  for  admiration  from  those  whose 
homage  redounded  to  her  glory.  Donne  soon  became 
a  constant  guest  at  Twickenham,  and,  more  than  that, 
a  dear  friend  and  frequent  correspondent  of  Lady 
Bedford.  Unhappily,  when  the  collection  of  Donne's 
letters  was  published  by  his  worthless  son  in  1654, 
her  ladyship  had  been  dead  more  than  twenty  years ; 
and  her  representatives  were  not  likely  to  surrender 
to  a  profligate  like  the  younger  Donne  the  familiar 
and  playful  notes  which  had  been  addressed  to  the 
great  lady  in  the  gay  and  happy  springtime  of  her 
married  life.  But  as  two  of  these  early  letters  are 
good  specimens  of  the  epistolary  style  of  the  times, — 
so  unlike  our  modern  manner  of  expressing  our  senti 
ments,  and  so  free  from  the  slovenliness  and  careless 
hurry  of  our  nineteenth-century  correspondence, — I 
give  them  here  as  I  find  them.  They  were  both 
written  from  Micham  in  1607  or  1608. 

To  the  COUNTESS  OF  BEDFOED. 

"  MADAM, — Amongst  many  other  dignities  which 
this  letter  hath  by  being  received  and  seen  by  you,  it 
is  not  the  least,  that  it  was  prophesied  of  before  it  was 
born ;  for  your  brother  told  you  in  his  letter,  that  I 
had  written:  he  did  me  much  honour  both  in  advancing 
my  truth  so  far  as  to  call  a  promise  an  act  already 
done ;  and  to  provide  me  a  means  of  doing  him  a 
service  in  this  act,  which  is  but  doing  right  to  myself: 
for  by  this  performance  of  mine  own  word  I  have  also 


DONNE  AND  HIS  FRIENDS  45 

justified  that  part  of  his  letter  which  concerned  me : 
and  it  had  been  a  double  guiltiness  in  me  to  have  made 
him  guilty  towards  you.  It  makes  no  difference  that 
this  came  not  the  same  day,  nor  bears  the  same  date 
as  his :  for  though  in  inheritances  and  worldly  posses 
sions  we  consider  the  dates  of  evidences,  yet  in  letters, 
by  which  we  deliver  over  our  affections  and  assurances 
of  friendship,  and  the  best  faculties  of  our  souls,  times 
and  days  cannot  have  interest  nor  be  considerable, 
because  that  which  passes  by  them  is  eternal,  and  out 
of  the  measure  of  time. 

"  Because  therefore  it  is  the  office  of  this  letter  to 
convey  my  best  wishes  and  all  the  effects  of  a  noble 
love  unto  you  (which  are  the  best  fruits  that  so  poor 
a  soil,  as  my  poor  soul  is,  can  produce),  you  may  be 
pleased  to  allow  the  letter  thus  much  of  the  soul's 
privilege,  as  to  exempt  it  from  straitness  of  hours,  or 
any  measure  of  times,  and  so  believe  it  came  then. 
And  for  my  part,  I  shall  make  it  so  like  my  soul,  that 
as  the  affection  of  which  it  is  the  messenger,  begun  in 
me  without  my  knowing  when,  any  more  than  I  know 
when  my  soul  began :  so  it  shall  continue  as  long  as  that. 

"  Your  most  affectionate  friend  and  servant, 

"J.  D." 

To  the  same. 

"HAPPIEST  AND  WORTHIEST  LADY, — Ido  not  remember 
that  ever  I  have  seen  a  petition  in  verse ;  I  would  not 
therefore  be  singular,  nor  add  these  to  your  other 
papers.  I  have  yet  adventured  so  near  as  to  make  a 
petition  for  verse,  it  is  for  those  your  ladyship  did  me 
the  honour  [to  show]  me  in  Twickenham  garden,  except 
you  repent  your  making,  and  have  mended  your 


46  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

judgment,  by  thinking  worse,  that  is,  better,  because 
juster  of  their  subject.  They  must  needs  be  an 
excellent  exercise  of  your  wit,  which  speak  so  well  of 
so  ill :  I  humbly  beg  them  of  your  ladyship,  with  two 
such  promises,  as  to  any  other  of  your  compositions 
were  threatenings :  that  I  will  not  show  them,  and 
that  I  will  not  believe  them :  and  nothing  should  be 
so  used  that  comes  from  your  brain  or  breast.  If  I 
should  confesse  a  fault  in  the  boldness  of  asking  them, 
or  make  a  fault  by  doing  it  in  a  longer  letter,  your 
ladyship  might  use  your  style  and  old  fashion  of  the 
court  towards  me  and  pay  with  a  pardon.  Here, 
therefore,  I  humbly  kiss  your  ladyship's  fair  learned 
hands,  and  wish  you  good  wishes  and  speedy  grants. 
"Your  ladyship's  servant, 

"J.  DONNE." 

Donne  continued  to  correspond  with  Lady  Bedford 
for  many  years ;  some  of  his  best  poetry  was  addressed 
to  her ;  she  generously  helped  him  with  money  more 
than  once  or  twice  when  he  needed  it  most.  She 
stood  as  sponsor  to  one  of  his  children,  to  whom  she 
gave  her  own  name.1  When  Bridget,  Lady  Markham, 
her  ladyship's  cousin,  died  in  May  1609,  Donne  wrote 
one  of  his  best  elegies  upon  the  deceased ;  two  months 
later  he  wrote  no  less  than  three  poems  on  Miss 
Cecilia  Bulstrode,  one  of  the  ladies-in-waiting  to  Queen 
Anne,  who  had  fallen  sick  and  died  in  Lady  Bedford's 
house  at  an  early  age.  It  is  probably  that  this  was 
the  occasion  on  which  Lady  Bedford  was  so  affected 
by  the  poet's  sympathy  that  she  paid  his  debts  in 

1  Lucy,   Donne's  second  daughter,   was  baptized  at  Hicham   8th 
August  1608. 


DONNE  AND  HIS  FRIENDS  47 

acknowledgment  of  her  gratitude.  Some  years  later 
another  sorrow  came  upon  her.  In  August  1613 
her  father,  Lord  Harrington,  died  at  Worms ;  and  in 
the  following  February  her  brother,  the  second  lord, 
died  of  the  smallpox  at  Kew,  leaving  no  heirs-male. 
Donne  was  evidently  much  moved  by  the  loss  his 
friend  had  sustained,  and  made  use  of  the  opportunity 
to  write  what  he  calls  "  Obsequies  on  the  Lord  Har 
rington."  Of  course  the  poem  was  meant  for  Lady 
Bedford's  eye.  It  is  addressed  to  her  dead  brother ; 
and  in  view  of  the  writer  having  by  this  time  signified 
his  intention  of  shortly  taking  holy  orders,  he  closes  with 
a  kind  of  promise  that  he  would  write  no  more  verse — 

"Do  not,  fair  soul,  this  sacrifice  refuse, 
That  in  thy  grave  I  do  inter  my  muse  ; 
Which  by  my  grief — great  as  thy  worth — being  cast 
Behind  hand,  yet  hath  spoke,  and  spoke  her  last." 

Lady  Bedford  had  first  known  Donne  in  his  bright 
and  joyous  youth  ;  he  was  a  trifler  then  and  a  courtier, 
whom  it  was  hard  to  look  upon  as  anything  more ; 
she  had  not  learned  to  see  the  real  earnestness 
that  lay  below  the  surface,  and  could  not  at  first, 
when  she  herself  was  beginning  to  feel  sobered  and 
saddened  by  her  sorrow,  bring  herself  to  approve  of 
her  poet  friend  entering  upon  the  ministry  of  Christ's 
Church :  for  a  little,  a  very  little  while,  something 
approaching  to  a  cloud  gathered  over  their  friendship, 
but  it  soon  passed  off.  Her  ladyship  learnt  to  see 
that  in  those  early  years  she  had  not  fathomed  the 
depths  of  that  noble  nature :  she  lived  to  understand 
how  worthy,  and  more  than  worthy,  her  friend  was  of 
all  the  confidence  and  affection  she  had  bestowed  upon 
him.  The  last  occasion  on  which  we  hear  of  the  two 


48  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

meeting  was  in  May  1619.  Lady  Bedford  was  re 
turning  from  Heidelberg,  where  she  had  been  very 
seriously  ill.  Donne  was  himself  on  his  way  to 
Germany.  Lady  Bedford  was  at  Antwerp,  and  she  was 
lying  in  a  darkened  room  suffering  from  some  affec 
tion  of  the  eyes.  They  parted — she  to  be  met  on  her 
arrival  in  London  by  a  great  crowd,  who  turned  out  to 
welcome  her  on  her  recovery  ;  he  to  present  himself  at 
the  court  of  Elizabeth  of  Bohemia  at  Heidelberg,  and  to 
preach  a  memorable  sermon,  which  has  been  preserved. 

After  this  Lady  Bedford  lived  comparatively  a 
retired  life  at  Moor  Park  in  Hertfordshire,  where 
her  gardens  became  even  more  celebrated  than  those 
at  Twickenham. 

As  late  as  1622  Donne '  was  still  corresponding 
with  her.  Her  own  letters  from  this  time — and 
many  have  been  preserved — exhibit  an  increasing 
seriousness  of  tone.  She  felt  acutely  the  loss  of 
relatives  and  friends,  and  latterly  she  suffered  much 
from  gout  and  other  ailments. 

But  of  all  Donne's  intimate  associates  who  attached 
themselves  to  him  in  his  years  of  struggle  and  dis 
appointment,  and  who  continued  through  life  to  feel 
the  irresistible  attractiveness  of  his  sweet  and  affec 
tionate  nature, — the  one  man  who  found  the  way  to  his 
fullest  confidencej  the  man  from  whom  he  had  no 
secrets,  and  to  whom  he  wrote  with  entire  sympathy 
and  without  reserve,  was  Sir  Henry  Goodere  of 
Polesworth  in  Warwickshire. 

St.  Edith's  Abbey  at  Polesworth  was  a  house  of 
Benedictine  nuns,  which  enjoyed  an  unusually  good 
reputation  when  it  was  suppressed  by  the  creatures  of 
Henry  vm.  in  1539.  In  the  scramble  that  ensued, 


DONNE  AND  HIS  FKIENDS  49 

when  the  lands  of  the  monasteries  carne  into  the 
market,  the  estates  of  this  abbey  were  handed  over  to 
one  Francis  Goodere  of  London,  G-ent.,  who  appears 
to  have  been  a  successful  merchant  in  search  of  good 
investments.  He  acquired  extensive  estates  in  War 
wickshire  ;  but — as  was  so  often  observed  in  the  case 
of  the  rich  capitalists  who  bought  up  the  lands  of  the 
monasteries — in  the  next  generation  there  was  only 
a  single  heir-male,  upon  whom  all  the  property  of  his 
father  and  brother  (the  sons  of  the  original  Francis 
Goodere)  was  entailed  on  condition  that  he  married 
his  uncle's  daughter,  and  so  kept  the  estates  in  the 
family.  This  was  our  Sir  Henry  Goodere,  who  seems 
to  have  been  knighted  at  the  close  of  Queen  Eliza 
beth's  reign,  and  on  the  accession  of  James  I.  obtained 
the  honorary  appointment  of  a  Gentleman  of  the 
Privy  Chamber.  He  never  rose  to  any  higher 
position,  though  he  was  a  courtier  for  many  years, 
and  joined  in  all  the  gaieties  and  extravagant  amuse 
ments  of  the  court,  to  the  serious  damage  of  his 
fortune,  in  so  much  that  he  appears  to  have  died 
insolvent.  Sir  Henry  was  a  gentleman  of  many 
accomplishments,  with  cultivated  tastes,  and  of  a 
poetic  temperament ;  he  had  a  large  and  apparently 
well-chosen  library ;  but  his  almost  romantic  devotion 
to  his  friend  has  won  for  him  an  immortality  which 
he  could  not  otherwise  have  achieved.  Donne's 
letters  to  him,  numbering  between  forty  and  fifty, 
form  the  most  precious  portion  of  a  correspondence 
which  will  always  be  regarded  as  a  chapter  in  English 
literature  we  could  ill  spare,  and  which  brings  us  into 
touch  with  the  modes  of  thought,  the  subtile  question 
ings,  and  the  true  sentiments  and  beliefs  of  a  time 
4 


50  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

when  England  was  in  the  transition  period  between 
the  despotism  of  the  Tudors  and  the  social  and  political 
revolution  that  was  coming. 

As  the  collection  of  Donne's  Letters  to  Several  Persons 
of  Honour,  which  were  published  in  quarto  in  1654, 
are  not  now  easily  procurable,  I  think  it  well  to 
give  here  some  few  specimens  of  the  letters  to  Sir 
Henry  Goodere,  which  may  serve  as  examples  of  the 
curiously  stilted  style  in  which  correspondence  was 
carried  on  three  centuries  ago,  and  at  the  same  time 
furnish  some  insight  into  the  inner  life  of  one  who 
for  many  years  was  face  to  face  with  difficulties  of 
various  kinds,  such  as  weaker  men  would  have  sunk 
under,  but  which,  in  Donne's  case,  became,  under  God, 
only  steps  in  the  building  up  of  his  character.  He 
bore  his  training  bravely  ;  he  learned  his  lessons  wisely ; 
as  he  grew  in  depth  of  knowledge  and  breadth  of 
view,  "  he  gathered  strength — at  last  he  beat  his 
music  out." 

It  was  not  only  among  the  nobility  and  the 
courtiers  that  Donne's  irresistible  attractiveness  won 
him  friends  who  stood  by  him,  and  were  glad  to  enjoy 
his  society.  Among  the  great  lawyers  who  were 
already  in  the  first  rank  of  the  profession,  or  who 
were  sure  to  attain  eminence,  Donne  had  early  been 
recognised  as  a  young  man  of  supreme  ability,  and 
as  likely  to  make  a  great  reputation.  Among 
these  were  Sir  George  Kingsmill,  after  whom,  I  con 
jecture,  that  Donne's  second  son  George  was  named. 
He  had  married  Lady  Bedford's  cousin,  the  mother  of 
Henry,  Earl  of  Huntingdon.  Sir  George,  who  was  a 
Judge  of  the  Court  of  Common  Pleas,  died  in  1606, 


DONNE  AND  HIS  FRIENDS  51 

but  his  lady  continued  on  intimate  terms  with  the 
poet  through  life,  and  appears  among  his  correspondents. 
Sir  Julius  Caesar  has  already  been  mentioned.  He 
became  eventually  Master  of  the  Kolls ;  his  extra 
ordinary  generosity  is  noticed  by  Weldon,  and  his 
house  at  Micham  was  Donne's  frequent  resort.  Others 
of  his  familiars  at  this  period  were  William  Hakewill, 
an  extremely  learned  barrister,  Solicitor-General  to 
Queen  Anne  of  Denmark ;  Eichard  Martin,  afterwards 
Eecorder  of  London  ;  and  Sir  William  Jones,  eventually 
a  Judge  of  the  King's  Bench,  with  many  another  whom 
we  may  pass  over. 

But  if  the  wits  and  the  courtiers,  the  nobility,  and 
the  luminaries  of  the  law  courts  all  agreed  in  their 
high  opinion  of  the  young  poet  and  courtier,  there  were 
some,  too,  among  the  prominent  divines  and  theo 
logians  who  even  thus  early  had  begun  to  recognise 
that  this  universal  genius  had  the  making  in  him  of 
a  formidable  controversialist,  and  whose  counsel  and 
suggestions  even  in  matters  theological  were  worth 
asking  and  worth  attending  to.  Foremost  among 
these  were  Bishop  Andrewes  and  Bishop  Morton. 

Andrewes  was,  at  the  time  of  Donne's  marriage, 
Eector  of  St.  Giles's,  Cripplegate,  and  a  Prebendary  of 
St.  Paul's  ;  he  was  already  a  frequent  preacher  in 
London,  and  was  noted  for  his  ascetic  life  and 
excessive  devotion  to  study.  Donne  was  his  junior 
by  nearly  twenty  years,  but  this  did  not  prevent  the 
elder  man  conceiving  a  cordial  feeling  of  regard  for 
the  younger  ;  and  a  friendship  sprang  up  between  them 
which  was  honourable  to  both.  Once,  we  learn, 
Andrewes  borrowed  a  book  from  Donne,  which  by 
an  accident  fell  into  the  hands  of  some  children  in  the 


52  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

house  where  he  was  staying.  The  urchins  proceeded 
to  tear  out  some  leaves  of  the  volume,  and,  as  a  new 
copy  was  not  easily  procurable,  Andrewes  wrote  out 
the  torn  pages  with  his  own  hand,  and  sent  the  book 
back  to  its  owner  with  the  damaged  portion  replaced 
in  manuscript.  The  letter  and  Latin  verses  which 
Donne  sent  to  the  future  bishop  acknowledging  the 
return  of  his  book  have  survived  ;  but  what  would  not 
we  give  for  that  precious  volume  if  we  could  handle  it 
ourselves  ? 

The  intimacy  with  Bishop  Morton  must  have  begun 
very  soon  after  the  death  of  Queen  Elizabeth.  Morton 
was  ten  years  Donne's  senior,  and,  though  now  nearly 
forty  years  of  age,  he  had  as  yet  published  nothing. 
Nevertheless,  he  had  earned  for  himself  a  reputation 
for  learning  and  scholarship  at  Cambridge ;  and  when 
he  returned  from  a  year's  sojourn  on  the  Continent,  in 
1603,  he  was  well  prepared  to  engage  in  the  polemics 
of  the  time,  if  any  opportunity  should  arise.  It  was 
not  long  in  coming.  The  death  of  Queen  Elizabeth 
had  given  new  hopes  to  the  Ultramontane  zealots  in 
England,  and  the  Komanists  began  to  give  themselves 
the  airs  of  superiors  who  were  entitled  to  instruct  the 
Anglican  divines  and  let  the  world  see  how  defenceless 
the  position  of  the  Church  of  England  was  when 
exposed  to  the  attacks  of  the  trained  logicians  of  the 
Jesuit  colleges  and  the  great  luminaries  of  the  new 
theology. 

It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  the  controversialists 
on  the  other  side  of  the  channel  should  have  made 
the  mistake  of  deeming  that  the  Anglican  theology 
at  this  time  had  no  champions  qualified  to  stand 
forth  as  its  defenders.  Since  the  death  of  Bishop 


DONNE  AND  HIS  FRIENDS  53 

Jewel,  in  1575,  absolutely  the  only  representative  of 
theological  learning  in  England  who  held  any 
important  Church  preferment  was  Nowell,  Dean  of 
St.  Paul's ;  he  was  now  nearly  one  hundred  years  old, 
and  had  published  his  famous  Catechism  at  the 
beginning  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  reign.  Among  the 
Puritan  clergy  there  were  many  who  were  laborious 
preachers  and  diligent  students  of  the  Scriptures  ; 
but  they  and  their  Anglican  opponents  were  wasting 
their  strength  in  wrangling  about  the  ceremonies  and 
in  curious  questions  regarding  matters  transcendental 
which  profit  not,  for  they  are  vain.  One  has  only 
to  run  an  eye  down  the  pages  of  Le  Neve,  and 
note  the  names  of  those  who  were  members  of  the 
cathedral  chapters  up  and  down  the  land,  to  under 
stand  the  way  in  which  ecclesiastical  patronage  was 
prostituted  during  the  thirty  years  or  so  before  the 
accession  of  James  i.  In  the  Cathedral  Church  of 
Canterbury  during  those  thirty  years  not  a  single 
Englishman  can  be  found  among  the  deans,  arch 
deacons,  or  prebendaries,  who  had  the  least  claim  to  be 
considered  a  theologian.  The  one  only  member  of 
the  Chapter  of  Canterbury  during  the  barren  period 
who  had  any  reputation  for  learning  was  Saravia,  a 
foreigner,  who  held  his  stall  from  1595  to  1602. 
At  York,  with  its  thirty-four  prebendal  stalls,  there  is 
not  a  man  who  can  be  pointed  to  of  whom  anything  is 
known  that  is  worth  recording.  Controversial  theology 
in  the  Church  of  England  seemed  to  be  dead.  To 
the  outside  world,  to  the  English  Jesuits,  with  Kobert 
Parsons  as  their  Coryphaeus,  it  might  well  have 
seemed  that  all  the  intellect  of  the  country  was 
devoting  itself  to  mere  literary  trifling.  The  time 


54  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

had  come  once  more  to  show  the  people  that  their 
leaders  were  blind  guides,  by  whom  they  had  been  led 
astray.  When  James  i.  showed  that  he  was  by  no 
means  inclined  to  throw  himself  into  the  arms  of  the 
Koman  faction,  and  when  the  detestable  Gunpowder 
Plot  forced  the  Government  to  resort  to  strong 
measures  in  self-defence,  the  Eoman  polemics  began 
their  campaign  through  the  printing-press ;  but  the 
gauntlet  was  no  sooner  thrown  down  than,  no  doubt 
to  the  astonishment  of  those  who  had  delivered  their 
attack,  the  challenge  was  taken  up  by  a  band  of 
scholars  armed  at  all  points,  though  their  names  had 
hardly  been  heard  of  outside  the  limited  circle  in 
which  they  had  hitherto  moved.  Richard  Hooker 
was  dead;  he  had  published  in  1597  his  fifth  book  of 
the  immortal  Ecclesiastical  Polity,  and  dedicated  it  to 
the  Primate.  What  did  Whitgift  care  for  such  as  he  ? 
Hooker  had  been  hunted  out  of  the  Mastership  of  the 
Temple,  and  sent  to  rock  the  cradle  and  watch  his 
sheep  at  Bishopbourne,  a  short  walk  from  Canterbury. 
There  Saravia  seems  to  have  been  his  only  friend. 
Some  few  bewailed  him,  and  in  their  hearts  cried 
"  Shame " ;  but  they  held  their  peace  when  it  was 
the  time  for  silence.  Donne  read  and  absorbed 
Hooker's  great  work,  especially  the  first  book, — 
utilised  it,  made  it  his  own,  and  reproduced  it  in  his 
Biatlmnatos, — but  he  never  so  much  as  mentioned 
Hooker's  name. 

And  yet  there  was  a  school  of  theology  growing  up 
in  the  two  universities,  which  was  destined  by  and  by 
to  send  forth  the  glorious  band  of  Anglican  divines 
who  should  prove  themselves  more  than  a  match  for 
all  the  Roman  gladiators.  At  Oxford  there  was 


DONNE  AND  HIS  FEIENDS  55 

bitter  dissension,  almost  before  the  queen  had  died, 
between  Eobert  Abbot,  afterwards  Bishop  of  Salisbury, 
and  Laud,  then  proctor  of  the  university.  The  one  a 
stubborn  Calvinist,  and  exceedingly  learned  ;  the  other 
the  intrepid  Eeformer,  who  claimed  that  the  Church 
of  England  should  in  ritual  and  discipline  be  brought 
back  to  what  she  had  been  in  her  better  days :  so 
only  could  she  hope  to  deal  with  the  sophistries  and 
corruptions  of  Borne.  At  Cambridge  the  influence  of 
Perkins,  the  able  and  earnest  Calvinist,  had  been  an 
immeasurable  force  in  awakening  spiritual  life  in  the 
university ;  but  it  was  Andrewes  to  whom  the 
divinity  students  came  in  crowds  to  take  down  his 
catechetical  lectures  at  Pembroke,  of  which  he  was 
tutor.  Meanwhile,  at  St.  John's  College  the  study  of 
divinity  was  being  pursued  by  the  great  majority  of 
Fellows  with  so  much  eagerness  that  the  college  had 
almost  become  a  theological  seminary.  When 
James  I.  came  to  the  throne  three  of  the  bishops 
were  St.  John's  men ;  and  during  the  next  twenty 
years  no  less  than  eight  more  Johnians  were  raised 
to  the  Episcopate.  They  were  the  very  best  appoint 
ments  the  king  made  during  his  reign ;  they  were 
all  men  of  conspicuous  learning  and  high  character, 
such  as  the  Church  of  England  had  not  known 
for  many  a  long  day.  Of  these  eight  Dr.  Morton 
was  one,  though  he  had  to  wait  some  years  for 
his  promotion.  The  revival  of  interest  in  theology, 
and  the  hitherto  unheard-of  care  and  discretion  in 
exercising  church  patronage,  soon  brought  the  ablest 
men  to  the  front ;  and  the  stimulus  given  to  the  study 
of  divinity,  which  Donne  alludes  to  in  one  of  his 
Problems,  made  theology  fashionable  among  all  classes. 


56  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

Men  dragged  their  religion  into  all  they  talked  and 
all  they  wrote  about,  it  gave  a  tinge  to  all  their 
lighter  utterances  in  prose  or  verse.  If  this  was  not 
all  gain,  at  anyrate  it  was  not  all  loss. 

The  necessity  of  taking  strong  measures  against 
the  Popish  Recusants,  as  they  were  called,  who  refused 
on  conscientious  grounds  to  take  the  new  oath  of 
allegiance,  brought  out  a  number  of  protests  more  or 
less  offensive  from  the  Eoman  party.  It  was  judged 
necessary  to  meet  these  books  and  pamphlets  with 
prompt  rejoinders.  Dr.  Morton  threw  himself  into 
the  fray  with  a  vigour  and  readiness  which  made  his 
services  peculiarly  valuable.  It  is  impossible  here  to 
enter  into  the  literary  history  of  the  controversies  of 
the  time.  In  three  years,  at  least  six  books,  or  pam 
phlets,  some  in  English,  some  in  Latin,  appeared, 
having  Dr.  Morton's  name  on  the  title,  all  overflowing 
with  learning,  and  all  dealing  heavy  blows  at  Parsons 
and  his  friends.  They  never  could  have  been  written 
by  one  man  single-handed.  It  was  notorious  that 
the  Eoman  disputants  helped  one  another  in  their 
attacks.  It  was  plain  that  there  must  be  co-operation 
among  the  Anglicans  to  foil  their  assailants.  Morton 
found  in  Donne  a  most  able  and  willing  coadjutor. 
For  years  the  younger  man  had  been  sedulously  and 
thoughtfully  studying  the  points  in  dispute  between 
the  Church  of  England  and  the  Papacy ;  he  had  been 
buying  books  largely  and  reading  them  closely, 
annotating  and  abstracting,  as  Walton  expresses  it; 
"  cribrating  and  re-cribrating  and  post-cribrating,"  as 
he  himself  says.  All  this  accumulation  of  learned 
lore,  written  in  the  small  and  beautiful  hand  which 
never  varies,  and  with  all  the  references  minutely  set 


DONNE  AND  HIS  FRIENDS  57 

down  on  the  margin  of  his  manuscripts,  where  a  blot 
or  a  correction  is  a  thing  unknown,  was  accessible 
and  ready  for  use  at  any  moment.  Even  if  we  had 
not  been  told  that  he  gave  Morton  constant  and 
valuable  help,  a  comparison  of  the  authorities  quoted 
and  referred  to  in  Morton's  Catholic  Appeal,  with  those 
set  down  in  Donne's  Pseudo  Martyr,  would  have 
convinced  a  careful  reader  of  the  fact.  The  curious 
and  out-of-the-way  books  cited  in  both  works  are 
very  numerous,  and  not  to  be  found  elsewhere. 

As  the  two  worked  on,  the  king  with  his  very 
considerable  theological  training — pedantry  you  may 
call  it  if  you  will — could  not  but  be  interested  in 
their  task.  James  formed  a  strong  opinion  that  this 
gifted  young  scholar  had  a  vocation,  but  his  view  of 
what  that  vocation  was  was  not  Donne's  view.  It 
seems  that  the  king  had  expressed  his  opinion  very 
early,  that  the  young  courtier  must  stick  to  divinity 
and  give  up  his  ambition  to  rise  in  the  diplomatic 
service.  In  June  1607  Morton  got  his  first  pre 
ferment  ;  he  was  offered,  and  accepted,  the  Deanery  of 
Gloucester.  Nine  years  before  this,  George,  Earl  of 
Huntingdon,  had  procured  for  him  the  living  of  Long 
Mars  ton  in  Yorkshire,  a  benefice  of  some  value. 
Morton  immediately  sent  for  his  friend,  and  then  and 
there  offered  to  resign  the  living  if  Donne  could  but 
bring  himself  to  take  holy  orders,  as  he  advised  him 
in  all  seriousness  and  affection  to  do.  The  interview 
is  beautifully  described  by  Walton ;  but  what  Morton 
advised  was  not  yet  to  be.  At  the  end  of  three  days, 
which  had  been  given  him  to  consider  the  proposal, 
Donne  gratefully  but  firmly  declined ;  his  conscience 
he  would  not  tamper  with ;  and  to  enter  the  ministry 


58  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

of  Christ's  Church  only  for  the  hope  of  gain, — that  he 
could  not,  and  would  not,  bring  himself  to  do.  It 
might  be  the  call  of  man,  it  was  not  the  call  of  God. 
So  Morton  went  to  his  deanery,  and  Donne  went 
back  to  the  little  home  at  Micham,  and  continued  his 
attendance  at  the  court,  resisting  and  rebelling  against 
that  gracious  leading  of  God's  providence,  which  in 
the  end  bore  him  along  the  road  that  he  was  so 
eminently  fitted  to  travel. 


CHAPTEK   III 

STEPS   TO   THE   ALTAR 

DONNE  ceased  to  reside  with  Sir  Francis  Wooley 
some  time  in  1605.  There  were  more  reasons  than 
one  for  this  removal.  Not  only  was  the  distance 
from  London  a  serious  inconvenience  to  a  young 
courtier  on  the  look-out  for  preferment,  but  Donne's 
family  was  increasing  upon  him ;  two  children  had 
already  been  born,  and  a  third  was  on  the  way.  In 
February  1605  he  received  an  invitation  to  travel 
abroad  with  three  gentlemen  of  large  means,  who 
were  starting  on  a  Continental  tour,  and  who  needed 
some  one  to  act  as  their  interpreter  and  give  them 
the  benefit  of  his  experience.  The  party  held  a 
licence  for  a  three-years'  absence,  and  took  servants 
and  horse  with  them.  Unfortunately,  we  know 
nothing  more  about  this  journey ;  but  we  do  know 
that,  whatever  happened  to  his  companions,  Donne 
was  at  home  again  in  1606,  and,  with  his  wife  and 
children,  living  at  Micham.  The  house  in  which  he 
continued  to  reside  for  the  next  three  or  four  years 
was  still  standing  in  1840,  and  was  then  known  as 
"  Donne's  House."  It  belonged  then  to  the  Simpson 
family,  and  it  was  pulled  down  some  few  years  later. 
The  illustration  on  the  opposite  page  is  a  reproduc 
tion  of  a  sketch  by  my  lamented  friend,  the  late 

59 


60  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

Mr.  Richard  Simpson,  author  of  the  Life  of  Edmund 
Campion,  who  as  a  boy  often  played  in  the  garden, 
and  who  was  taught  to  believe  that  some  of  the 
trees  then  standing  had  been  planted  during  Donne's 
tenancy. 

On  his  return  from  this  short  absence  he  found  him 
self  without  any  employment,  and  his  comparatively 
small  income  compelled  him  to  look  about  for  some 
means  of  adding  to  his  resources.  His  friends  came 
round  him,  and  did  for  him  what  they  could ;  and, 
according  to  the  fashion  of  the  time,  he  set  himself 
to  seek  for  new  patrons  by  placing  his  pen  at  the 
disposal  of  those  whose  vanity  or  ambition  called 
for  such  literary  assistance  as  he  could  give.  Mean 
while,  he  was  pursuing  his  reading  with  ceaseless 
industry.  There  had  been  a  time  when  he  had 
devoted  himself  very  earnestly  to  the  study  of  the 
law,  for  he  had  originally  intended  to  adopt  the  legal 
profession ;  but  during  his  four  years  as  secretary 
to  the  Lord  Keeper  his  thoughts  and  pursuits  had 
necessarily  been  turned  in  another  direction ;  and  he 
now  threw  himself  more  than  ever  before  into  historic 
theology  and  casuistry.  His  early  training,  under  the 
eye  of  his  Jesuit  uncle,  had  doubtless  cultivated  and 
stimulated  the  natural  subtlety  of  his  intellect.  He 
could  never  be  satisfied  with  a  superficial  treatment 
of  any  subject,  or  take  his  opinions  upon  trust 
without  patient  scrutiny.  He  was  one  of  those  men 
who  always  find  it  hard  to  "  run  in  harness " ;  a 
man  of  original  genius ;  in  fact,  who  must  needs  take 
his  own  course  in  dealing  with  any  question  that 
presented  itself,  and  who  found  himself  always  going 
to  the  root  of  things,  and  was  almost  morbidly  rest- 


STEPS  TO  THE  ALTAR  61 

less  and  ill -at -ease  till  he  had  discovered  some 
solution  of  his  own  for  such  difficulties  as  perplexed 
him.  It  was  irksome  and  distasteful  to  him  to  follow 
the  beaten  track  and  tread  in  the  footsteps  of  others, 
leaving  himself  simply  to  follow  where  they  led. 

It  is  significant  that  during  these  Micham  days  we 
still  find  him  occasionally  distributing  those  Problems 
of  which  —  perhaps  fortunately  —  only  a  few  have 
survived.  They  have,  indeed,  a  certain  interest  for  us, 
in  that  they  reflect  the  working  of  the  writer's  mind 
at  this  time.  They  show  him  to  us,  not  so  much 
inclined  to  scepticism  as  feeling  his  way  towards 
some  positive  basis  of  truth.  Seeking  for  certainties 
and  finding  none,  he  is  in  the  stage  when  any  system 
of  philosophy  does  not  satisfy  the  intellect — the  stage 
when  an  inquirer  tends  to  become  a  mere  eclectic, 
always  inquiring,  always  seeing  objections,  always 
surprising  others  with  unexpected  doubts  and  diffi 
culties,  always  prone  to  provoke  and  irritate  shallow 
minds  with  what  seem  to  them  mere  intellectual 
quibbles  and  paradoxes. 

In  one  of  his  letters  he  mentions  that  he  had  been 
engaged  upon  a  small  collection  of  Cases  of  Conscience 
— exercises,  that  is,  in  casuistry ;  a  branch  of  ethical 
theology  to  which  our  English  divines  have  so  seldom 
given  their  attention,  and  which,  indeed,  since  Jeremy 
Taylor  wrote  his  Ductor  Dulitantium,  none  of  them 
have  busied  themselves  with,  though  that,  too,  may 
come  up  again  some  day.  These  "  cases  "  have  never 
seen  the  light,  and  are  not  likely  to  be  recovered  now. 
During  these  Micham  days  there  is  a  tone  of 
mournfulness  in  his  letters,  attributable  far  less  to 
any  mere  lack  of  means  than  to  that  intellectual 


62  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

depression  inseparable  from  excessive  strain  upon  the 
powers  of  brain  and  heart.  He  read  late  into  the 
night ;  he  wrote  sometimes  "  in  the  noise  of  three 
gamesome  children,"  with  his  wife  by  his  side.  He 
speaks  of  his  "  thin  little  house,"  as  if  there  could  be 
no  quiet  in  it;  but  he  had  a  very  large  collection  of 
books,  and  he  found  no  difficulty  in  borrowing  largely 
from  others. 

Of  course  there  would  come,  under  such  circum 
stances,  to  the  student,  overwrought  and  never  en 
joying  robust  health,  moods  of  depression,  weariness, 
despondency ;  and  at  the  worst,  the  old  thought  would 
intrude  itself  upon  him :  "  Were  it  not  better  not  to 
be?" 

That  the  temptation  to  put  an  end  to  his  own 
life  ever  presented  itself  to  Donne  in  the  form  of  a 
possible  course  of  action — much  less  as  a  deliberate 
purpose  to  which  his  will  inclined  —  must  always 
appear  incredible  to  any  who  have  learned  to  know 
the  man,  and  to  appreciate  the  true  nobility  of  his 
character.  Yet,  as  a  question  for  casuists,  it  still 
remained  to  be  discussed  as  it  never  had  been  even 
by  the  most  adventurous  of  the  schoolmen,  whether 
suicide,  under  no  conceivable  circumstances,  could 
become  excusable  or  cease  to  be  accounted  in  foro 
conscientice,  an  unpardonable  sin  and  crime. 

Donne  set  himself  to  deal  with  this  the  greatest 
and  most  hazardous  of  all  cases  of  conscience.  The 
very  novelty  of  the  subject  was  doubtless  to  him  its 
chief  fascination.  He  attacked  it  from  the  point  of 
view  of  an  idealist,  and  an  idealist  only.  When  he 
had  brought  the  inquiry  to  a  close  it  had  grown  into 
a  volume,  bristling  with  references  to  an  immense 


STEPS  TO  THE  ALTAR  63 

number  of  authors  whose  works  he  had  consulted — 
not  only  consulted,  but  read,  and  weighed,  and 
pondered.  He  called  the  book,  BiatJianatos :  A 
Declaration  of  that  Paradox  or  Thesis,  that  Self- 
homicide  is  not  so  naturally  sin  that  it  may  never  be 
otherwise.  The  work  was  written  between  1606 
and  1608,  and  for  some  years  was  kept  under  lock 
and  key,  and  appears  to  have  been  shown  to  very  few 
even  of  his  closest  friends.  It  was  not  till  his 
setting  out  to  Germany  in  1619  that  he  sent  one 
copy,  in  his  own  handwriting,  to  Sir  Edward  Herbert 
(afterwards  Lord  Herbert  of  Cherbury),1  and  another 
to  Sir  Eobert  Carr,  afterwards  Earl  of  Ancrum.  A 
third  copy  fell  into  the  hands  of  his  eldest  son,  John, 
who,  disregarding  his  father's  wishes,  and  with  charac 
teristic  brutality,  made  merchandise  of  it,  and  caused 
it  to  be  published  in  4to  in  1644. 

Donne  sent  the  manuscript  of  the  Biathanatos  to 
Sir  Eobert  Carr,  with  the  following  letter : — 

"...  Besides  the  poems,  of  which  you  took  a 
promise,  I  send  you  another  book,  to  which  there  be 
longs  this  history :  it  was  written  by  me  many  years 
since;  and  because  it  is  upon  a  misinterpretable  subject, 
I  have  always  gone  so  near  suppressing  it  as  that  it  is 
only  not  burnt.  No  hand  hath  passed  upon  it  to  copy 
it,  nor  many  eyes  to  read  it ;  only  to  some  particular 
friends  in  both  universities  then  when  I  writ  it  I 
did  communicate  it;  and  I  remember  I  had  their 
answer,  that  certainly  there  was  a  false  thread  in  it, 
but  not  easily  found.  Keep  it,  I  pray,  with  the  same 
jealousy.  Let  any  that  your  discretion  admits  to  the 

1  Lord  Herbert,  in  1642,  presented  this  copy  to  the  Bodleian  Library, 
where  it  still  remains. 


64  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

sight  of  it  know  the  date  of  it,  and  that  it  is  a  book 
written  by  Jack  Donne,  and  not  by  Dr.  Donne. 
Preserve  it  for  me  if  I  live,  and  if  I  die  I  only  forbid 
it  the  press  and  the  fire.  Publish  it  not,  but  yet  burn 
it  not ;  and  between  those  do  what  you  will  with  it." 
The  Biathanatos  is  the  most  carefully  constructed 
and  closely  reasoned  of  all  Donne's  writings,  and 
exhibits  an  extraordinary  width  and  variety  of  curious 
learning.  That  it  should  ever  be  an  attractive  book 
is  hardly  to  be  expected ;  on  the  other  hand,  the 
thesis  is  so  cautiously  handled  and  so  delicately,  that 
the  reading  of  the  book  could  hurt  no  one.  It  is  a 
literary  curiosity — a  tour  de  force  unique  in  English 
literature,  a  survival  of  the  old  dialectic  disputations, 
carried  on  strictly  according  to  the  rules  of  syllogistic 
reason,  which  the  mediaeval  schoolmen  loved  so  well. 

Just  about  the  time  that  this  book  was  written, 
Donne  was  brought  into  that  close  intimacy  with  Dr. 
Morton  which  led  to  the  offer  being  made  him  of  the 
living  of  Long  Marston.  It  is  difficult  to  believe  that 
Morton's  proposal  to  resign  this  benefice,  on  his  re 
ceiving  the  Deanery  of  Gloucester,  could  have  been 
made  without  the  cognisance  of  the  king.  I  incline 
to  think,  indeed,  that  it  was  made  at  His  Majesty's 
suggestion.  As  we  have  seen,  it  was  gratefully 
declined. 

If  we  may  trust  to  Walton  for  the  date  of  this 
incident,  it  was  not  many  days  after  its  occurrence 
that  Donne  was  exerting  himself  to  obtain  an  ap 
pointment,  not  in  the  king's  household,  but  in  that  of 
Queen  Anne  of  Denmark.  The  queen's  secretary  was 
u.  certain  William  Fowler,  whose  only  qualification  for 


STEPS  TO  THE  ALTAR  65 

the  office  which  he  held  was  that  he  was  a  good 
linguist.  A  knowledge  of  European  languages  was 
essential  for  the  management  of  the  queen's  corre 
spondence.  Mr.  Fowler  had  received  his  appointment 
immediately  on  the  king's  coming  into  England,  and 
lad  now  held  it  for  four  years.  From  what  we  know 
of  the  man,  he  can  hardly  have  had  an  agreeable  berth 
in  the  household,  for  he  was  a  fantastic  coxcomb,  and 

likely  person  to  be  the  object  of  a  good  deal  of 
ridicule.  Fowler,  however,  had  no  serious  thought  of 
resigning  without  making  terms  with  his  successor ; 
and  he  appears  to  have  made  an  extravagant  demand 
as  a  condition  of  his  vacating  his  post.  The  negotia 
tion  fell  through. 

During  the  next  year  or  two,  Donne  made  many  other 
unsuccessful  attempts  to  get  employment  under  the 
crown.  At  one  time  he  hoped  to  obtain  the  post  of  Secre 
tary  for  Ireland ;  at  another  he  had  some  hope  of  being 
sent  on  an  embassy  to  Venice  or  the  Low  Countries ; 
once  he  even  thought  of  applying  for  an  appointment 
in  the  colony  of  Virginia.  It  was  all  in  vain  ;  one,  and 
only  one,  road  to  advancement  was  open  to  him.  The 
king  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  all  the  solicitations  of  his 
friends.  If  not  Church  preferment,  then  none  at  all. 

As  the  years  went  by,  and  the  controversies  between 
the  faction  of  the  Eoman  recusants,  who  stubbornly 
refused  to  take  the  Oath  of  Allegiance  on  the  one  side, 
and  the  supporters  of  royal  supremacy  in  Church  and 
State  on  the  other,  were  become  more  and  more  acri 
monious  ;  while,  too,  everybody — learned  and  simple 
-was  talking  theology,  and  the  perpetual  sermons  of 
the  court  preachers  were  being  attended  by  the  king 
5 


68  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

and  the  nobility,  and  being  discussed  and  criticised 
without  reserve ;  and  while  everybody  was  asking 
when  the  new  translation  of  the  Bible  would  be 
finished,  and  what  changes  would  be  introduced, 
Donne  must  have  gradually  got  to  see  that  it  could 
only  be  a  question  of  time  when  he  would  be  obliged 
to  give  way ;  his  scruples  must  have  been  slowly 
getting  overborne  by  the  remorseless  logic  of  facts. 

As  early  as  1607  he  had  expressed  very  frankly  to 
a  friend — probably  Sir  Henry  Goodere,  who  himself,  as 
it  seems,  was  troubled  by  some  doubts  and  perplexities 
of  his  own — what  his  religious  position  was : — 

"  You  know  I  never  fettered  nor  imprisoned  the 
word  religion ;  not  straightening  it  friarly,  Ad  religi- 
ones  factitias  (as  the  Eomans  call  well  their  orders  of 
religion),  not  immuring  it  in  a  Eome,  or  a  Wittenberg, 
or  a  Geneva ;  they  are  all  virtual  beams  of  one  sun, 
and  wheresoever  they  find  clay  hearts,  they  harden 
them,  and  moulder  them  into  dust ;  and  they  entender 
and  mollify  waxen.  They  are  not  so  contrary  as  the 
north  and  south  poles ;  and  that  they  are  connatural 
pieces  of  one  circle.  Eeligion  is  Christianity,  which 
being  too  spiritual  to  be  seen  by  us,  doth  therefore 
take  an  apparent  body  of  good  life  and  works,  so 
salvation  requires  an  honest  Christian.  These  are  the 
two  elements,  and  he  which  is  elemented  from  these 
hath  the  complexion  of  a  good  man,  and  a  fit  friend. 
The  diseases  are,  too  much  intention  into  indiscreet 
zeal,  and  too  much  remissness  and  negligence  by  giving 
scandal :  for  our  condition  and  state  in  this,  is  as 
infirm  as  in  our  bodies ;  where  physicians  consider 
only  two  degrees ;  sickness,  and  neutrality ;  for  there 


STEPS  TO  THE  ALTAR  67 

is  no  health  in  us.  This,  sir,  I  used  to  say  to  you, 
rather  to  have  so  good  a  witness  and  corrector  of  my 
meditations,  than  to  advise  ;  and  yet  to  do  that  too, 
since  it  is  pardonable  in  a  friend :  not  to  slack  you 
towards  those  friends  which  are  religious  in  other 
clothes  than  we  (for  amid  mtia  si  feras  facis  tua,  is 
true  of  such  faults) ;  but  to  keep  you  awake  against 
such  as  the  place  where  you  must  live  will  often 
obtrude,  which  are  not  only  naked,  without  any 
fashion  of  such  garments,  but  have  neither  the  body 
of  religion,  which  is  moral  honesty  and  sociable  faith 
fulness,  nor  the  soul,  Christianity.  I  know  not  how 
this  paper  escaped  last  week,  which  I  send  now ;  I 
was  so  sure  that  I  enwrapped  it  then,  that  I  should 
be  so  still,  but  that  I  had  but  one  copy ;  forgive  it  as 
you  used  to  do.  From  Micham  in  as  much  haste, 
and  with  as  ill  pen  and  ink,  as  the  letter  can  excuse 
me  of ;  but  with  the  last  and  the  next  week's  heart 
and  affection. — Yours,  very  truly  and  affectionately, 

"  J.  DONNE." 

This  is  the  language  of  one  whose  leanings  were  all 
towards  a  large  and  fearless  toleration,  but  for  such 
toleration  the  times  were  not  ready ;  the  writer  was 
clearly  a  man  before  his  age. 

Meanwhile,  the  aggressive  tone  of  the  English 
Jesuits,  and  their  fierce  attacks  upon  the  king  and 
his  policy,  made  it  increasingly  difficult  for  the  Angli 
can  divines  to  maintain  a  pacific  attitude.  Eobert 
Parsons  was  forcing  the  hands  of  his  own  party  and 
of  the  loyalists  at  the  same  moment.  The  provocation 
became  ever  greater  and  greater,  and  a  feeling  of 
bitter  hostility  was  growing  up,  not  against  the  con- 


68  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

scientious  refusers  of  the  Oath  of  Allegiance,  which 
James  I.  in  sheer  self-defence  had  been  compelled  to 
enforce,  but  against  the  Jesuit  wing  of  the  great 
Ultramontane  army,  whose  champions  disdained  to 
accept  mere  toleration,  and  would  hear  of  nothing 
short  of  supremacy. 

Half  angrily,  half  contemptuously,  Donne  at  this 
time  wrote  off  his  rather  fierce  little  diatribe,  entitled 
"  Ignatius  his  Conclave  or  his  Inthronisation  in  a  late 
Election  in  Hell ;  wherein  many  things  are  mingled 
by  way  of  satire,  concerning — (1)  the  Disposition  of 
Jesuits;  (2)  the  Creation  of  a  New  Hell;  (3)  the 
Establishing  of  a  Church  in  the  Moon."  The  tractate 
was  a  jeu  d 'esprit,  not  in  very  good  taste,  and  modelled 
upon  Seneca's  Ludus  de  Morte  Claudii,  and  was  origin 
ally  written  in  Latin,  though  an  English  version  was 
made  for  the  unlearned,  and  printed  at  the  same  time. 
The  date  of  composition  can  hardly  be  later  than 
1608.  More  than  one  issue  of  it  appeared  from  time 
to  time,  and  there  is  reason  to  suspect  that  the 
earliest  editions  were  pirated.  Though  the  bookling 
has  little  merit,  it  possesses  a  certain  interest  as  an 
indication  of  the  way  in  which  Donne's  feeling  against 
the  Komanists  became  gradually  stronger,  and  his 
position  as  an  Anglican  getting  more  and  more  clearly 
defined  and  intelligible  as  the  years  ran  on. 

The  sequence  of  events  in  Donne's  life  between 
1606  and  1610  is  difficult  to  make  out  with  any 
certainty ;  but  we  know  that  he  was  on  intimate 
terms  with  Sir  Francis  Bacon  during  this  period,  and 
apparently  employed  by  that  illustrious  man  to 
revise  some  of  his  books  before  they  received  their 
final  corrections.  It  was  through  Bacon,  too.  as  he 


STEPS  TO  THE  ALTAE  69 

tells  us  in  one  of  his  letters,  that  Donne  was  first 
introduced  to  James  Hay,  afterwards  Earl  of  Carlisle. 

Lord  Hay  was  for  some  years  the  reigning  favourite 
at  the  court  of  King  James,  and  he  soon  conceived 
a  strong  regard,  which  eventually  developed  into  an 
affectionate  friendship,  for  Donne.  Hay,  we  learn, 
"  took  him  into  his  service ; "  by  which  we  are  to 
understand  that  he  became  the  great  man's  private 
secretary,  with  an  assured  income,  and  the  duty  of 
attending  his  patron  at  court.  Hay  was  at  this  time 
Master  of  the  Wardrobe,  and  this  office  necessitated  his 
being  frequently  in  the  royal  presence ;  and  where  he 
went,  there  his  secretary  was  in  attendance  upon  his 
patron.  So  it  came  about  that  Donne  would  be 
called  upon  to  take  his  part  in  those  symposia,  of 
which  Bishop  Hacket  gives  us  the  following  curious 
account : — 

"  His  Majesty's  table  for  the  most  part  at  times  of 
repast  was  (as  Constantino's  court,  ecclesice  instar)  a 
little  university  compassed  with  learned  men  of  all 
professions,  and  His  Majesty  in  the  midst  of  them 
.  .  .  a  living  library,  furnished  at  all  hands  to  reply, 
answer,  object,  resolve,  discourse,  explain,  according  to 
several  occasions,  emergent  upon  fact,  or  accidental 
upon  speech." 

In  other  words,  the  discussions  during  meals  were 
kept  up  with  interest  and  animation ;  and  when  an 
opinion  was  asked  it  had  to  be  given  on  the  spur  of 
the  moment.  The  scholars  and  divines  in  waiting 
were  liable  at  any  moment  to  be  subject  to  a  severe 
viva  voce  examination,  were  called  upon  to  give  chapter 
and  verse  for  all  they  asserted,  and  to  produce  on  the 
instant  all  they  knew.  It  was  in  consequence  of  a 


70  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

remark  thrown  out  at  one  of  these  discussions  that 
Donne  received  a  command  from  the  king  to  set 
down  in  writing  the  suggestions  and  arguments  which 
he  had  brought  forward  on  the  never-ending  question 
of  the  Oath  of  Allegiance.  His  way  of  putting  the 
case  had  struck  James  I.  as  especially  original  and 
likely  to  prove  effective  against  the  Eoman  contro 
versialists. 

Walton  assures  us  that  in  six  weeks  the  royal 
commands  had  been  obeyed ;  and  in  the  spring  of 
1610  The  Pscudo  Martyr  appeared,  a  quarto  volume 
of  nearly  four  hundred  pages.  The  work  was  almost 
immediately  recognised  as  the  most  solid  and  masterly 
contribution  to  the  literature  of  a  discussion  which 
had  already  been  taken  part  in  by  the  ablest  and 
most  famous  divines  of  the  Church  of  England. 

The  view  which  Donne  had  set  himself  to  support 
was : — "  That  no  pretence  of  conversion  at  first ; 
assistance  in  the  conquest ;  or  acceptation  of  any 
surrender  from  any  of  our  kings, — can  give  the  pope 
any  more  right  over  the  kingdom  of  England,  than 
over  any  other  free  state  whatsoever."  Further, 
that  the  punishments  incurred^by  those  who  refuse  to 
obey  the  laws  of  the  realm,  and  the  sufferings  they 
bring  upon  themselves  by  their  disobedience  to  those 
laws  under  whose  protection  they  live,  can  never 
entitle  them  to  be  called  martyrs ;  for  "  the  refusal  of 
the  Oath  of  Allegiance  doth  corrupt  and  vitiate  the 
integrity  of  the  whole  act,  and  despoils  them  of  the 
interest  and  title  to  martyrdom." 

The  controversy,  with  all  its  subtleties,  has  long 
ceased  to  have  any  but  a  historic  interest ;  but  even 
in  our  own  days  it  is  impossible  to  read  Donne's 


STEPS  TO  THE  ALTAE  71 

Advertisement  to  the  Reader  and  the  introductory  preface 
without  being  profoundly  touched  by  the  allusions  to 
the  author's  early  difficulties  on  the  one  hand,  and  by 
the  solemn  tone  of  sad  expostulation  with  those 
against  whom  he  is  writing  on  the  other.  Throughout 
the  whole  volume  there  is  a  self-restraint  and  dignity 
in  carrying  on  the  argument  which  are  in  marked 
contrast  to  the  methods  of  discussion  almost  univer 
sally  prevalent  among  the  disputants  on  the  one  side 
or  the  other  who  had  hitherto  taken  part  in  the 
controversies  of  the  day. 

At  the  close  of  the  preface,  Donne  breaks  forth  into 
the  following  earnest  and  beautiful  appeal  to  those 
with  whom  he  had  been  arguing. 

"  I  call  to  witness  against  you  those  whose 
testimony  God  Himself  hath  accepted. — Speak  then 
and  testify — 0  you  glorious  and  triumphant  army  of 
martyrs,  who  enjoy  now  a  permanent  triumph  in 
heaven,  which  knew  the  voice  of  your  Shepherd,  and 
stayed  till  He  called,  and  went  then  with  all  alacrity: 
Is  then  any  man  received  into  your  blessed  legion  by 
title  of  such  a  death  as  sedition,  scandal,  or  any 
human  respect  occasioned  ?  Oh  no  !  For  they  which 
are  in  possession  of  that  crown  are  such  as  have 
washed  their  garments,  not  in  their  own  blood  only  (for 
so  they  might  still  remain  red  and  stained),  but  in  the 
blood  of  the  Lamb  which  changes  them  to  white.  .  .  . 
That  which  Christian  religion  hath  added  to  old 
philosophy — which  was  to  do  no  wrong — is  in  this 
point  no  more  than  this,  to  keep  our  mind  in  an 
habitual  preparation  to  suffer  wrong,  but  not  to  urge 
and  provoke  and  importune  affliction  so  much  as  to 
make  those  punishments  just,  which  otherwise  had 


72  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

been  wrongfully  inflicted  upon  us.  We  are  not  sent 
into  this  world  to  suffer  but  to  do,  and  to  perform  the 
offices  of  society  required  by  our  several  callings.  .  .  . 
Thus  much  I  was  willing  to  premit,  to  awaken  you,  if 
it  please  you  to  hear  it,  to  a  just  love  of  your  own 
safety,  of  the  peace  of  your  country,  of  the  honour  and 
reputation  of  your  countrymen,  and  of  the  integrity 
of  that  which  you  call  the  Catholic  cause  and  to 
acquaint  you  so  far  with  my  disposition  and  temper  as 
that  you  need  not  be  afraid  to  read  my  poor  writings, 
who  join  you  with  mine  own  soul  in  my  prayers,  that 
your  obedience  here  may  prepare  your  admission  into 
the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  and  that  by  the  same 
obedience,  your  clays  may  be  long  in  the  land  which  the 
Lord  your  God  hath  given  you" 

The  Pseudo  Martyr  was  received  with  profound 
appreciation  by  the  Anglican  theologians  of  the  time : 
scholars  and  men  of  learning  could  not  but  admire 
the  originality  of  the  writer,  who  had  struck  out  a  new 
line  of  argument  and  taken  up  a  position  from  which 
he  could  not  be  dislodged.  The  Jesuits  abroad  at  one 
time  had  intended  to  answer  the  book ;  but  the  truth 
is,  it  was  unanswerable,  and  to  pass  it  by  in  silence  or 
with  a  depreciating  sneer  was  deemed  the  safer  course. 
The  University  of  Oxford,  however,  in  recognition  of  the 
author's  conspicuous  ability  and  learning,  by  decree  of 
convocation  conferred  upon  him  the  honorary  degree  of 
M.  A.  [1 8th  April  1610];  the  words  of  the  grace  setting 
forth  that  "  it  was  for  the  credit  of  the  university  that 
such  men  as  he  who  had  deserved  so  well  of  the  Church 
and  State  should  be  distinguished  by  academic 
honours." 

When    the    Pseudo   Martyr   was    presented    in    its 


STEPS  TO  THE  ALTAR  73 

completeness  to  the  king,  once  again  he  pressed  upon 
Donne  his  advice  that  he  should  take  holy  orders.  This 
time  there  could  be  no  mistaking  the  significance  of 
the  counsel  given — it  almost  amounted  to  a  royal 
command.  Even  so  he  could  not  bring  himself  to 
obey.  He  was  haunted  by  morbid  scruples  ;  he  could 
not  trust  himself ;  he  shrank  from  the  thought  that  men 
would  attribute  to  him  base  and  unworthy  motives. 

He  had  formed  so  high  an  ideal  of  the  standard 
which  the  "  priest  to  the  temple,"  as  George  Herbert 
styled  it,  should  attain  to,  that  he  could  not  bring 
himself  to  embrace  a  life  to  which  as  yet  he  felt 
no  inner  call.  What  form  his  answer  to  the  king 
took  we  shall  never  know ;  but  that  he  excused 
himself  on  the  ground  of  his  unfitness  for  the 
ministry  is  certain.  For  the  present  there  was  an  end 
of  the  matter. 

Another  year  passed  away.  Lord  Hay,  with  the 
shrewdness  that  characterised  him,  had  become 
convinced  that  he  could  do  nothing  for  his  friend  as 
long  as  he  obstinately  refused  to  enter  upon  the 
only  career  which  the  king  had  marked  out  for  him, 
and  the  less  so  when  it  was  evident  that  a  new 
favourite  was  now  all-powerful  at  court  and  his  own 
personal  influence  was  on  the  wane.  Kobert  Carr — a 
kinsman  of  Donne's  friend  of  the  same  name,  who 
became  Earl  of  Ancrum  in  1633  —  was  created 
Viscount  Eochester  on  the  25th  March  1611,  being 
the  first  Scotchman  promoted  to  a  seat  in  the  English 
House  of  Lords.  He  was  now  the  most  influential 
personage  with  the  king — not  excepting  even  Lord 
Salisbury,  whose  health  was  declining.  Lord  Hay  saw 
plainly  that  if  Donne  could  commend  himself  to 


74  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

the  king's  bosom  friend  there  might  still  be  a 
chance  of  promotion  somewhere.  But  how  to  proceed 
was  the  question.  Two  letters  in  Tobie  Matthew's 
collection  give  us  a  clue  to  what  happened.  It  looks 
as  if  the  king  was  displeased  with  Donne  for  his 
refusal  to  follow  the  advice  tendered  so  emphatically. 
To  surrender  at  last  would  be  flattering  to  James,  but 
to  make  Rochester  the  channel  of  communicating  to 
the  king  his  submission  would  be  a  piece  of  delicate 
flattery  to  the  favourite.  Accordingly,  some  time 
during  the  summer  of  1611,  Donne  addressed  a  letter 
to  the  great  man,  enclosing  it  in  another  to  Lord  Hay. 
The  tenor  of  both  letters  is  the  same — that  to  Lord 
Rochester  begins  as  follows  : — 

"  MY  LORD, — I  may  justly  fear  that  your  lordship 
hath  never  heard  of  the  name  which  lies  at  the 
bottom  of  this  letter,  nor  could  I  come  to  the  boldness 
of  presenting  it  now  without  another  boldness  of 
putting  his  lordship  who  now  delivers  it  to  that  office. 
Yet  I  have  (or  flatter  myself  to  have)  just  excuses  of 
this  and  just  ground  of  that  ambition.  For  having 
obeyed  at  last,  after  much  debatement  within  me,  the 
inspiration  (as  I  hope)  of  the  spirit  of  God,  and 
resolved  to  make  my  profession  divinity,  I  make 
account  that  I  do  but  tell  your  lordship  what  God 
hath  told  me,  which  is,  that  it  is  in  this  course,  if  in 
any,  that  my  service  may  be  of  use  to  this  Church 
and  State. 

"  Since,  then,  your  lordship's  virtues  have  made  you 
so  near  the  head  in  the  one  and  so  religious  a  member 
of  the  other,  I  came  to  this  courage  of  thrusting 
myself  thus  into  your  lordship's  presence,  both  in 


STEPS  TO  THE  ALTAR  75 

respect  that  I  was  an  independent  and  disobliged 
man  towards  any  other  person  in  this  State,  and 
delivered  over  now  (in  my  resolution)  to  be  a  house 
hold  servant  of  God." 

It  is  obvious  that  this  letter  was  meant  to  be 
laid  before  the  king  as  an  intimation  that  the  writer 
had  at  last  made  up  his  rnind  to  be  ordained.  Never 
theless,  I  find  it  impossible  to  resist  the  conviction 
that  Eochester,  so  far  from  encouraging  Donne  to 
carry  out  his  purpose,  actually  suppressed  the  letter, 
took  him  at  once  into  his  service,  treated  him  with 
great  liberality,  and  held  out  distinct  hopes  that  he 
would  yet  be  able  to  procure  for  him  some  valuable 
post  at  court.  In  other  letters  to  the  same  nobleman, 
Donne,  during  the  next  year  or  so,  again  and  again 
speaks  of  the  obligations  which  he  was  under  to  his 
new  patron,  reminding  him  that  he  had  inspired  new 
hopes  into  him,  telling  him  that  there  was  this  or 
that  post  likely  to  be  vacant,  which  he  desired  to 
obtain,  and  excusing  himself  for  asking  for  it  on  the 
ground  that  Eochester  had  encouraged  him  to  apply 
for  such  preferment  as  he  might  desire  to  obtain. 
Eochester  had  evidently  counted  upon  his  influence 
with  the  king  to  save  Donne  from  taking  orders  at 
all.  But  the  king  had  made  up  his  mind,  and  not 
even  the  favourite  could  induce  him  to  change  it. 
Meanwhile,  Donne  was  unsettled,  anxious,  and  the 
eternal  want  of  pence  was  harassing  him.  Hope 
deferred  was  making  his  heart  sick. 

Just  about  this  time  another  circumstance  occurred 
which  helped  to  turn  him  from  the  purpose  hehad  formed 
of  dedicating  himself  to  the  ministry  of  the  Church. 


76  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

At  the  close  of  the  year  1610  the  only  child  of  Sir 
Eobert  Drury  of  Haws  ted  in  Suffolk,  one  of  the  richest 
men  in  England,  had  died,  in  her  sixteenth  year,  to  the 
deep  sorrow  of  her  parents,  who  appeared  inconsol 
able  at  their  loss.  Up  to  this  time  Donne  had  known 
little  or  nothing  of  Sir  Robert,  and  had  never  seen  the 
young  lady ;  but,  touched  by  the  grief  of  the  parents, 
and  probably  at  the  suggestion  of  some  friend,  he  set 
himself  to  write  an  elegy  upon  the  departed.  She 
had  been  dead  a  year  when  the  poem  was  presented 
to  Sir  Eobert ;  and  it  was  apparently  printed  at  his 
expense.  It  was  entitled  "  The  First  Anniversary : 
An  Anatomy  of  the  World,  wherein,  by  occasion  of 
the  Untimely  Death  of  Mistress  Elizabeth  Drury,  the 
Frailty  and  the  Decay  of  this  whole  World  is  repre 
sented."  The  poem  is  written  in  a  style  of  extrava 
gant  panegyric,  but  it  evidently  gave  unqualified 
pleasure  to  those  for  whom  it  was  intended.  No 
doubt  Donne  was  handsomely  rewarded  for  his  work ; 
but  when,  a  little  later,  he  offered  to  Sir  Eobert  (who 
was  a  very  vain  man,  and  very  greedy  for  notoriety) 
"  The  Second  Anniversary,"  there  was  no  bounds  to 
his  gratitude.  Nothing  was  too  much  for  him  to  do 
to  reward  the  court  poet  for  his  services.  "  The 
First  Anniversary "  appears  to  have  attracted 
not  much  notice.  It  was  otherwise  with  the 
second,  which  appears  to  have  been  received  with 
some  adverse  criticism.  In  a  letter  to  Sir  Henry 
Goodere,  Donne  thus  replies  to  some  of  their  stric 
tures  : — 

"  I  doubt  not  but  they  will  soon  give  over  that  part 
of  that  indictment  which  is  that  I  have  said  so  much ; 
for  nobody  can  imagine  that  I,  who  never  saw  her, 


STEPS  TO  THE  ALTAK  77 

could  have  any  other  purpose  in  that,  than  that,  when 
I  had  received  so  very  good  testimony  of  her  worthi 
ness,  and  was  gone  down  to  print  verses,  it  became 
me  to  say,  not  what  I  was  sure  was  just  truth,  but 
the  best  that  I  could  conceive ;  for  that  had  been  a 
new  weakness  in  me  to  have  praised  anybody  in 
printed  verses  that  had  not  been  capable  of  the  best 
praise  that  I  could  give." 

Meanwhile,  Sir  Eobert  Drury,  hearing  that  the  poet's 
family  had  by  this  time  outgrown  the  accommodation 
of  the  little  Micham  house,  and  that  he  was  too 
straitened  in  his  means  to  take  a  larger  one,  gener 
ously  offered  to  give  Donne,  with  his  wife  and  children, 
an  asylum  in  Drury  House,  a  magnificent  mansion, 
lying  just  outside  the  city,  and  to  the  north-west  of 
Temple  Bar.  There,  for  the  next  three  or  four  years, 
he  continued  to  reside  as  his  home.  I  suspect  the 
change  unsettled  him ;  that  at  Drury  House  he  was 
less  his  own  master  than  he  had  been  heretofore, 
and  that  quiet  retirement  was  difficult  and  often 
impossible.  In  point  of  fact,  one  of  the  first  claims 
that  his  new  friend  made  upon  him  was  that  he 
should  accompany  himself  and  Lady  Drury  on  a 
foreign  tour,  on  which  the  party  set  out  in  December 
1611.  It  was  then  that  Donne  wrote  the  exquisite 
stanzas  which  he  entitled  "  The  Malediction,"  perhaps 
the  best  known  of  all  his  poems. 

"A  VALEDICTION,  FORBIDDING  TO  MOURN. 

"As  virtuous  men  pass  mildly  away, 
And  whisper  to  their  souls  to  go, 
Whilst  some  of  their  sad  friends  do  say, 
'Now  his  breath  goes,'  and  some  say,  'No,' 


78  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

"So  let  us  melt,  and  make  no  noise, 

No  tear-floods  nor  sigh-tempests  move. 
'Twere  profanation  of  our  joys 
To  tell  the  laity  our  love. 

"Moving  of  th'  earth  brings  harms  and  fears, 

Men  reckon  what  it  did  and  meant ; 
But  trepidations  of  the  spheres, 
Tho'  greater  far,  are  innocent. 

"Dull  sublunary  lovers'  love — 

Whose  soul  is  sense — cannot  admit 
Absence,  because  that  doth  remove 
Those  things  which  elemented  it. 

"But  we,  by  a  love  so  far  refined, 

That  ourselves  know  not  what  it  is, 
Inter-assured  of  the  mind, 
Care  less  hands,  eyes,  or  lips  to  miss. 

"Our  two  souls,  therefore,  which  are  one, — 

Though  I  must  go, —endure  not  yet 
A  breach,  but  an  expansion, 
Like  gold  to  airy  thinness  beat. 

"If  we  be  two,— we  are  two — so 

As  stiff  twin  compasses  are  two, 
Thy  soul,  the  fix'd  foot,  makes  no  show 
To  move,  but  does,  if  the  other  do. 

"And  though  thine  in  the  centre  sit, 

Yet,  when  my  other  far  does  roam, 
Thine  leans  and  hearkens  after  it, 
And  grows  erect  as  mine  comes  home. 

"  Such  wilt  thou  be  to  me,  who  must, 
Like  th'  other  foot,  obliquely  run  : 
Thy  firmness  makes  my  circle  just, 
And  makes  me  end  where  I  begun." 

The  travellers  crossed  the  Channel  to  Dieppe,  passed 
through  Amiens,  and  thence  to  Paris,  where  Donne 


STEPS  TO  THE  ALTAR  79 

fell  seriously  ill ;  and  it  seems  that  at  this  time  the 
incident  occurred  which  Isaak  Walton  has  so  graphi 
cally  described,  and  which  can  only  be  read  in  his  own 
words : — 

"  At  this  time  of  Mr.  Donne's  and  his  wife's  living 
in  Sir  Eobert's  house,  the  Lord  Hay  was,  by  King 
James,  sent  upon  a  glorious  embassy  to  the  then  French 
king,  Henry  the  Fourth;  and  Sir  Eobert  put  on  a 
sudden  resolution  to  accompany  him  to  the  French 
court,  and  to  be  present  at  his  audience  there.  And 
Sir  Eobert  put  on  a  sudden  resolution  to  solicit  Mr. 
Donne  to  be  his  companion  in  that  journey.  And 
this  desire  was  suddenly  made  known  to  his  wife, 
who  was  then  with  child,  and  otherwise  under  so 
dangerous  a  habit  of  body  as  to  her  health,  that  she 
professed  an  unwillingness  to  allow  him  any  absence 
from  her,  saying,  '  Her  divining  soul  boded  her  some 
ill  in  his  absence/  and  therefore  desired  him  not  to 
leave  her.  This  made  Mr.  Donne  lay  aside  all 
thoughts  of  the  journey,  and  really  to  resolve  against 
it.  But  Sir  Eobert  became  restless  in  his  persuasions 
for  it,  and  Mr.  Donne  was  so  generous  as  to  think  he 
had  sold  his  liberty  when  he  received  so  many 
charitable  kindnesses  from  him,  and  told  his  wife  so ; 
who  did  therefore,  with  an  unwilling  willingness,  give 
a  faint  consent  to  the  journey,  which  was  proposed  to 
be  but  for  two  months ;  for  about  that  time  they 
determined  their  return.  Within  a  few  days  after 
this  resolve,  the  ambassador,  Sir  Eobert,  and  Mr. 
Donne,  left  London,  and  were  the  twelfth  day  got 
all  safe  to  Paris.  Two  days  after  their  arrival  there, 
Mr.  Donne  was  left  alone  in  that  room  in  which  Sir 
Eobert  and  he  and  some  other  friends  had  dined  to- 


80  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

gether.  To  this  place  Sir  Kobert  returned  within 
half  an  hour ;  and  as  he  left,  so  he  found,  Mr.  Donne 
alone,  but  in  such  an  ecstasy,  and  so  altered  as  to  his 
looks,  as  amazed  Sir  Eobert  to  behold  him;  insomuch 
that  he  earnestly  desired  Mr.  Donne  to  declare  what 
had  befallen  him  in  the  short  time  of  his  absence. 
To  which  Mr.  Donne  was  not  able  to  make  a  present 
answer ;  but,  after  a  long  and  perplexed  pause,  did  at 
last  say :  '  I  have  seen  a  dreadful  vision  since  I  saw 
you;  I  have  seen  my  dear  wife  pass  twice  by  me 
through  this  room,  with  her  hair  hanging  about  her 
shoulders,  and  a  dead  child  in  her  arms :  this  I  have 
seen  since  I  saw  you/  To  which  Sir  Eobert  replied, 
'  Sure,  sir,  you  have  slept  since  I  saw  you ;  and  this 
is  the  result  of  some  melancholy  dream,  which  I  desire 
you  to  forget,  for  you  are  now  awake.'  To  which  Mr. 
Donne's  reply  was :  '  I  cannot  be  surer  that  I  now 
live  than  that  I  have  not  slept  since  I  saw  you ;  and 
am  as  sure  that  at  her  second  appearing  she  stopped 
and  looked  me  in  the  face  and  vanished.'  Eest  and 
sleep  had  not  altered  Mr.  Donne's  opinion  the  next 
day ;  for  he  then  affirmed  this  vision  with  a  more 
deliberate  and  so  confirmed  a  confidence  that  he  in 
clined  Sir  Eobert  to  a  faint  belief  that  the  vision  was 
true.  It  is  truly  said  that  desire  and  doubt  have  no 
rest,  and  it  proved  so  with  Sir  Eobert ;  for  he  im 
mediately  sent  a  servant  to  Drury  House,  with  a 
charge  to  hasten  back  and  bring  him  word  whether 
Mrs.  Donne  were  alive,  arid,  if  alive,  in  what  condition 
she  was  as  to  her  health.  The  twelfth  day  the 
messenger  returned  with  this  account :  that  he  found 
and  left  Mrs.  Donne  very  sad  and  sick  in  her  bed ; 
and  that,  after  a  long  and  dangerous  labour,  she  had 


STEPS  TO  THE  ALTAR  81 

been  delivered  of  a  dead  child.  And,  upon  examina 
tion,  the  abortion  proved  to  be  the  same  day  and 
about  the  very  hour  that  Mr.  Donne  affirmed  he  saw 
her  pass  by  him  in  his  chamber. 

"  This  is  a  relation  that  will  beget  some  wonder, 
and  it  well  may ;  for  most  of  our  world  are  at  present 
possessed  with  an  opinion  that  visions  and  miracles 
are  ceased.  And,  though  it  is  most  certain  that  two 
lutes,  being  both  strung  and  tuned  to  an  equal  pitch, 
and  then  one  played  upon,  the  other  that  is  not 
touched  being  laid  upon  a  table  at  a  fit  distance,  will, 
like  an  echo  to  a  trumpet,  warble  a  faint  audible  har 
mony  in  answer  to  the  same  tune,  yet  many  will  not 
believe  there  is  any  such  thing  as  a  sympathy  of  souls ; 
and  I  am  well  pleased  that  every  reader  do  enjoy  his 
own  opinion." 

The  foreign  tour  came  to  an  end  in  August 
1612,  and  Donne,  on  his  return  to  England,  found 
Lord  Eochester  in  greater  favour  with  the  king 
than  ever.  Lord  Salisbury  had  died  on  the  24th 
May,  and  Eochester  had  virtually  succeeded  him 
to  his  post  as  secretary.  The  great  addition 
to  the  work  thus  thrown  upon  the  new  minister  (as 
we  may  venture  to  call  him)  made  him  perhaps 
more  difficult  of  approach ;  for,  shortly  after  his  return 
from  abroad,  Donne  found  it  necessary  to  write  the 
following  pathetic  letter  : — 

To  the  LORD  OF  SOMERSET. 

"  It  is  now  somewhat  more  than  a  year  since  I  took 
the    boldness    to    make    my    purpose    of    professing 
divinity    known    to    your    lordship,   as    to  a  person, 
6 


82  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

whom  God  had  made  so  great  an  instrument  of  His 
providence  in  this  kingdom,  as  that  nothing  in  it 
should  be  done  without  your  knowledge,  your  lord 
ship  exercised  upon  me  then  many  of  your  virtues, 
for  besides,  that  by  your  bounty  I  have  lived  ever 
since,  it  hath  been  through  your  lordship's  advice, 
and  inspiration  of  new  hopes  into  me,  that  I  have 
lived  cheerfully.  By  this  time,  perchance,  your  lord 
ship  may  have  discerned  that  the  malignity  of  my  ill- 
fortune  may  infect  your  good,  and  that  by  some 
impressions  in  your  lordship,  I  may  be  incapable  of 
the  favours  which  your  lordship  had  purposed  to  me. 
...  I  humbly,  therefore,  beg  of  your  lordship  that, 
after  you  shall  have  been  pleased  to  admit  into  your 
memory,  that  I  am  now  a  year  older,  broken  with 
some  sickness,  and  in  the  same  degree  of  honesty  as 
I  was,  your  lordship  will  afford  me  one  command 
ment,  and  bid  me  either  hope  for  this  business 
in  your  lordship's  hand,  or  else  pursue  my  first 
purpose,  or  abandon  all,  for  as  I  cannot  live  with 
out  your  favour  so  I  cannot  die  without  your  leave ; 
because  even  by  dying,  I  should  steal  from  you  one, 
who  is,  by  his  own  devotions  and  your  purchase,  your 
lordship's  most  humble  and  thankful  servant." 

Beading  between  the  lines,  it  is  evident  that 
Kochester  had  made  more  than  one  attempt  to  serve 
his  friend  during  the  past  year,  but  without  success 
— the  king  was  inexorable.  Donne  himself  saw  now 
that  it  was  in  vain  to  resist  the  Divine  leading,  and 
that  he  must  return  to  the  resolve  from  which  he 
had  been  diverted,  only  to  find  more  disappointment. 
This  time  he  would  not  swerve. 


STEPS  TO  THE  ALTAR  83 

And  yet  even  now  he  found  it  impossible  to  break 
away  from  his  surroundings.  In  spite  of  himself  he 
was  compelled  to  play  the  part  of  courtier,  and  to  do 
the  work  of  a  court  poet  at  the  bidding  of  his 
patrons.  From  the  moment  when  he  had  made  up 
his  mind  to  give  himself  up  to  the  higher  life  and 
the  service  of  the  Church  of  Christ  in  the  sanctuary, 
the  hollowness  of  this  wretched  routine  of  amuse 
ment,  and  ceremony,  and  pomps,  and  vanities  must 
have  fretted  his  soul  with  a  continual  sense  of  empti 
ness.  What  a  purposeless  life  he  was  leading !  The 
world  was  just  using  him  for  its  own  ends,  and  what 
was  he  gaining  by  it  all  ?  God  schools  some  men  in 
one  way,  and  some  in  another.  Donne  had  to  endure 
a  very,  very  hard  schooling.  The  closer  we  follow  his 
career  at  this  time,  the  sadder  and  more  pitiful  does 
it  appear  to  a  thoughtful  reader. 

On  the  6th  November  of  this  year  [1612]  Prince 
Henry,  the  heir  to  the  crown,  died  in  his  nineteenth 
year,  after  a  short  illness,  to  the  sincere  grief  of  the 
nation  at  large.  He  was  buried  in  Westminster 
Abbey ;  and,  among  other  tributes  to  his  memory, 
Donne  wrote  an  "  Elegy  upon  the  Untimely 
Death  of  the  Incomparable  Prince  of  Wales."  It 
is  not  a  successful  performance,  and  among  the 
least  readable  of  his  poems  that  have  been  pre 
served. 

Two  months  later  the  Princess  Elizabeth,  the 
king's  only  daughter,  was  married  to  the  Elector 
Frederick.  Again  Donne  appears  to  have  been 
ordered  to  write  the  "  Epithalamium."  The  marriage 
was  celebrated  on  the  15th  February  1613,  and  the 
poet  makes  the  most  of  the  day,  being  St.  Valentine's 


84  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

Day.       The  beautiful  opening  stanza  sounds  like  an 
echo  of  Chaucer — 

"  Hail,  Bishop  Valentine — whose  day  this  is  ! 

All  the  air  is  thy  Diocese, 
And  all  the  chirping  choristers 
And  other  birds  are  thy  parishioners. 

Thou  marriest,  every  year, 
The  lyrick  lark  and  the  grave  whispering  dove ; 

The  sparrow  that  neglects  his  life  for  love, 
The  household  bird  with  the  red  stomacher  ; 
Thou  mak'st  the  blackbird  speed  as  soon 

As  doth  the  goldfinch  or  the  halcyon ; 

The  husband  cock  looks  out,  and  straight  is  sped, 
And  meets  his  wife,  which  brings  her  feather  bed. 
This  day  more  cheerfully  than  ever  shine  (!) 
This  day,  which  might  inflame  thyself,  Old  Valentine  ! " 

Two  months  later  we  find  him  paying  a  visit  to 
Sir  Edward  Herbert  at  Montgomery  Castle.1 

On  the  3rd  August  he  was  at  home  again,  for  on 
that  day  a  son,  Nicholas,  was  baptized  at  St.  Clement's 
in  the  Strand.  The  remaining  months  of  this  year 
were  rendered  for  ever  memorable  by  the  bad  business 
of  the  divorce  of  Eobert,  Earl  of  Essex  (afterwards 
General  of  the  Parliamentary  army),  from  his  wife 
Frances,  daughter  of  Thomas  Howard,  Earl  of  Suffolk, 
and  her  subsequent  marriage  to  Lord  Kochester  on 
the  26th  December.  Eochester  was  created  Earl  of 
Somerset  three  days  before,  that  he  might  be  placed 
in  the  same  rank  with  his  wife's  relations — the 
Howards.2 

1  Hist.  MSS.  com.  Rutland  MSS.,  vol.  ix.  p.  6. 

2  The  hideous  exposure  which  followed  less  than  two  years  later 
has  cast  a  dreadful  glare  upon  this  shocking  episode  ;  but  no  suspicion 
of  what  came  to  light  afterwards  seems  to  have  been  entertained  by 
anyone  at  the  time.     It  is  only  fair  to  add  that,  while  no  one  doubts 


STEPS  TO  THE  ALTAR  85 

Again  Donne  was  called  upon  to  write  the  marriage 
song ;  it  is  a  poor  performance,  and  does  him  little 
credit.  The  wedding  was  celebrated  at  Whitehall : 
Montagu,  Bishop  of  Bath  and  Wells,  performed  the 
ceremony ;  Dr.  Mountaine,  Dean  of  Westminster, 
preached  the  sermon ;  the  bride's  father  gave  her 
away ;  the  king  and  queen,  with  the  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury,  were  present  on  the  occasion.  But  Donne 
himself  was  not  there ;  he  had  been  struck  down 
by  a  very  serious  illness,  apparently  of  a  typhoid 
character.  In  one  of  his  letters  at  this  time  he 
describes  himself  as  "more  than  half  blind." 

He  had  scarcely  recovered  from  this  severe  attack 
when  the  death  of  Lady  Bedford's  brother  (2nd  Feb. 
1614)  induced  him  once  more  to  court  the  muse. 
This  time  it  was  no  task  work,  but  an  offering  of 
sympathetic  regret  at  the  loss  of  one  he  had  loved, 
besides  being  an  attempt  to  console  the  noble  lady 
who  had  befriended  him  so  long.  In  the  concluding 
lines  of  this  elegy,  as  we  have  seen  (chap.  ii.  p.  47), 
Donne  pledged  himself  to  write  no  more  verse. 

After  the  Somerset  marriage  we  hear  no  more  of 
any  attempts  to  get  State  preferment.  It  is  clear  that 
Donne  had  by  this  time  ceased  to  desire  it ;  his  mind 
was  fully  made  up  to  embrace  the  sacred  calling. 
When  it  became  known  that  he  had  finally  resolved 
to  follow  the  king's  original  suggestion,  his  friends 
were  unanimous  in  expressing  their  approval ;  and 
among  them  his  old  master,  the  Lord  Keeper 

that  Lady  Essex  had  compassed  the  death  of  Sir  Thomas  Overbury, 
the  evidence  against  Somerset  broke  down;  and,  by  the  general  verdict 
of  legal  experts,  he  stands  acquitted  of  any  knowledge  of  or  complicity 
in  the  crime. 


86  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

Egerton  (now  Lord  Ellesmere)  was  foremost  in  sending 
him  kind  assurances  of  his  goodwill,  and  expressing 
for  him  his  strong  regard.  Donne  was  much  touched 
by  this  and  other  such  evidences  of  sympathy  and 
encouragement  as  came  to  him.  In  a  letter  to 
Sir  Henry  Wotton  (?),  who  was  then  at  Venice,  he 
hints,  somewhat  obscurely,  that  he  had  some  hope  of 
paying  his  old  friend  a  visit — there  was  now  small 
reason  why  he  should  not  do  so,  and  it  might  help 
him  to  recover  his  shattered  health.  Then  he  adds  a 
significant  announcement :  "  But  I  must  tell  you  in 
the  meantime  that  I  have  lately  been  in  a  long  con 
ference  with  a  neighbour,  and  old  friend  of  mine,  who 
was  a  companion  to  me  in  my  first  studies ;  and  now 
he  will  needs  be  giving  me  counsel.  And  touching 
the  course  which  he  advises  me,  I  am  not  only  of 
opinion  that  it  is  best,  but  I  had  long  since  in  mine 
own  judgment  resolved  upon  it.  ...  Believe  me,  I 
do  not  cast  into  the  account  of  my  years,  these  last 
five  which  I  have  lived  [no]  otherwise  than  as  nights 
slept  out,  which  are  indeed  a  part  of  time — which  the 
body  steals  from  the  mind,  rather  than  a  part  of  life, 
which  cannot  live  but  it  must  feel  itself  alive.  God 
Almighty  awake  me !  And  in  the  meantime  I  think 
that  even  this  sleep  I  am  in,  is  but  a  troubled  one. 
I  have  not  forgotten  that  in  a  letter  of  yours  you 
asked  me  once,  whether  we  should  be  fine  gentlemen 
still  ?  In  English,  as  I  took  it,  whether  still  idlers, 
without  aims  or  ends  ?  My  mark  is  chosen,  which  I 
would  be  infinitely  glad  might  be  also  yours,  as  I  am 
yours." 

The    friend    here    alluded    to    is    Dr.   John   King, 
Bishop   of    London,   who  had    been   chaplain   to  the 


STEPS  TO  THE  ALTAK  87 

Lord  Keeper  when  Donne  was  his  secretary.  It  is 
noticeable  that  Sir  Henry  Wotton,  when  at  the  end 
of  his  brilliant  career  as  a  diplomatist  he  became 
Provost  of  Eton,  was  himself  ordained. 

During  the  last  eight  or  ten  months  of  this  year 
1614  Donne  was  evidently  living  with  his  family  at 
Drury  House ;  he  had  given  up  his  attendance  at 
court,  and  was  turning  all  his  thoughts  and  all  his 
studies  in  one  direction.  In  his  case  there  should  be 
no  lack  of  devout  and  earnest  preparation  for  the  new 
career  upon  which  he  was  about  to  embark.  It  was 
during  this  time  that  he  wrote  those  Essays  in 
Divinity  which  his  son  published  in  1651.  "They 
were  printed,"  we  are  told,  "  from  an  exact  copy 
under  the  author's  own  hand,  and  were  the  voluntary 
sacrifices  of  several  hours  when  he  had  many  debates 
betwixt  God  and  himself  whether  he  were  worthy 
and  competently  learned  to  enter  into  holy  orders. 
They  are  now  published  both  to  testify  his  modest 
valuation  of  himself,  and  to  show  his  great  abilities ; 
and  they  may  serve  to  inform  them  in  many  holy 
curiosities." 

The  little  12mo  volume  of  224  pages  is  now 
extremely  rare.  No  second  edition  appeared  till  the 
present  writer  reissued  it,  with  a  brief  biographical 
preface  and  some  editorial  notes,  in  1855.  This 
edition,  too,  has  long  been  out  of  print,  and  is  now 
seldom  to  be  met  with.  It  must  be  confessed  that 
the  bookling  is  rather  a  literary  curiosity  than  any 
thing  else.  The  essays  were  evidently  never  meant 
for  publication.  They  are  recorded  soliloquies  in 
which  the  writer  sets  himself  to  deal  with  perplexities 
and  difficulties  which  presented  themselves  to  his 


88  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

own  mind  while  giving  himself  to  a  critical  study  of 
Holy  Scripture.  They  read  like  entries  in  a  diary,  in 
which  one  question  after  another  is  stated  with  only 
a  short  hint  or  suggestion  of  the  direction  in  which 
inquiry  might  be  pursued,  but  there  is  no  attempt 
at  exhaustive  treatment,  little  method,  and  little  of 
that  close  and  severe  reasoning  that  appears  in  the 
Biathanatos  or  the  Pseudo  Martyr.  Perhaps  the  best 
impression  that  could  be  conveyed  of  the  little  volume 
would  be  to  call  it  a  fragmentary  collection  of  religious 
exercises  interspersed  with  devotions  written  down 
from  time  to  time  with  a  view  to  utilise  suggestions 
and  illustrations  hereafter  in  the  pulpit  when  his 
work  as  a  preacher  should  begin.  The  style  is  not 
ornate  or  finished,  the  thoughts  are  often  expressed 
in  language  involved  and  rugged,  as  if  the  writer  were 
content  with  setting  down  a  hint  for  himself  and  there 
leaving  it.  The  prayers  are  the  outpourings  of  a 
heart  that  was  laying  itself  open  to  the  Heavenly 
Father,  and  had  no  fear  that  he  could  be  misunder 
stood  nor  miss  acceptance,  though  he  should  wrap  up 
his  spiritual  yearnings  in  words  that  were  too  weak 
in  the  expression  of  his  aspiration. 

I  incline  to  believe  that  many  of  Donne's  religious 
poems  were  written  during  this  period.  Though  he  had 
promised  Lady  Bedford,  after  the  death  of  her  brother, 
that  he  would  write  no  more  verse,  he  kept  that 
promise  doubtless  in  the  spirit,  but  not  in  the  letter ; 
but  there  was  no  reason  why  he  should  not  collect  his 
poems  in  a  volume  before  he  was  ordained,  and  so 
protect  himself  from  that  which  was  not  only  likely 
to  happen,  but  which  actually  did  happen,  later  on, 
when  many  fugitive  pieces  were  attributed  to  him, 


STEPS  TO  THE  ALTAR  89 

which  he  certainly  never  could  have  penned.  For 
several  years  past  his  name  had  been  associated  with 
verses  more  or  less  frivolous ;  he  had  written  Satires, 
Elegies,  Songs,  and  Sonnets,  which  had  passed  from 
hand  to  hand  among  the  courtiers  and  men  of  letters 
— and  some  few  of  them  were  not  such  as  he  would 
wish  to  be  read  and  dwelt  on  by  the  pure  and 
innocent.  If  they  were  ever  to  be  printed,  let  them 
be  printed  while  he  was  still  a  layman,  not  pirated 
to  his  discredit  when  he  should  have  begun  to  exercise 
the  high  calling  of  a  priest  of  Christ's  Church. 

Poetry  in  those  days  was  not  generally  accepted 
as  the  legitimate  language  in  which  the  soul  might 
pour  forth  its  nobler  thoughts — its  longings,  its  holier 
sorrows  and  regrets.  George  Herbert  was  now  little 
more  than  at  the  beginning  of  his  university  career, 
and  for  many  years  after  Donne's  ordination  was 
going  through  a  very  similar  experience  to  that 
which  had  kept  the  elder  man  so  long  hanging  about 
the  court.  A  poet  was  under  some  suspicion  of  being 
a  "  worldling,"  just  as  in  our  own  days  a  clergyman 
with  any  reputation  for  culture  or  learning  outside 
the  domain  of  homiletics  or  theology  is  too  generally 
assumed  to  be  at  best  half-hearted  in  his  ministerial 
life.  Be  it  as  it  may,  Donne  thought  it  became  him 
now  to  break  with  the  old  life  and  all  its  lighter 
pursuits  and  amusements,  and  from  this  time  he 
allowed  himself  none  of  that  joyous  relaxation  which 
the  writing  of  poetry  might  have  afforded  him.  So, 
before  he  finally  turned  his  back  upon  the  old  ways 
and  habits,  he  was  induced  to  print  at  his  own  expense 
a  little  volume  of  poems,  which  he  appears  to  have 
given  away  to  some  favoured  few  among  his  most 


90  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

valued  friends.  Of  this  he  writes  to  Sir  Henry 
Goodere  on  the  14th  December  1614. 

"  One  thing  now  I  must  tell  you ;  but  so  softly  that 
I  am  loth  to  hear  myself,  and  so  softly  that  if  that 
good  lady  (Lady  Bedford)  were  in  the  room  with  you 
and  this  letter,  she  might  not  hear.  It  is  that  I  am 
brought  to  a  necessity  of  printing  my  poems,  and 
addressing  them  to  my  Lord  Chamberlain.  This  I 
mean  to  do  forthwith ;  not  for  much  public  view,  but 
at  mine  own  cost  a  few  copies.  ...  I  must  do  this  as 
a  valediction  to  the  world  before  I  take  orders  .  .  .  and 
I  would  be  just  to  my  written  words  to  Lord  Har 
rington  to  write  nothing  after  that." 

Of  this  privately  printed  volume  not  a  single  copy 
is  known  to  exist ;  it  has  absolutely  disappeared. 
The  fact  is  the  more  to  be  regretted,  because,  when  a 
collected  edition  of  his  works  was  published  by  his 
son  in  1633,  no  attempt  was  made  to  place  them  in 
chronological  order,  and  it  becomes  a  matter  of  great 
difficulty  to  assign  even  an  approximate  date  to  those 
which  are  the  worthiest  of  our  admiration.  In  the 
later  years  of  his  life  Donne  certainly  did  think  fit  to 
change  his  resolve  of  writing  no  more  verse,  and  it 
may  be  that  at  that  time  the  influence  of  George 
Herbert  was  upon  him,  and  that  he  had  seen  and 
read  in  MS.  some  of  those  beautiful  poems,  which  the 
saintly  Nicholas  Ferrar,  as  Herbert's  executor,  issued 
immediately  after  Herbert's  death  at  Bemerton,  and 
just  two  years  after  Donne  himself  had  passed  away. 

Little  more  than  a  month  after  the  printing  of  the 
poems,  and  almost  certainly  on  the  Feast  of  the 
Conversion  of  St.  Paul — 25th  January  1615 — a  day 


STEPS  TO  THE  ALTAR  91 

which  thereafter  he  always  kept  as  a  day  of  special 
memories,  Donne  was  ordained  by  his  old  friend, 
Dr.  John  King,  Bishop  of  London,  though  where 
the  ordination  was  held  we  have  not  been  told,  nor 
does  it  seem  likely  that  it  will  ever  be  discovered. 
In  February  it  was  rumoured  that  he  had  been 
appointed  chaplain  to  the  king.  In  point  of  fact,  he 
did  not  actually  receive  this  appointment  till  nearly  a 
year  later.  On  the  14th  March  he  received,  during 
the  royal  progress  at  Cambridge,  the  degree  of  Doctor 
of  Divinity  from  the  university,  not,  however,  without 
some  protest  from  some  members  of  the  Theological 
Faculty,  who  did  not  approve  that  an  Oxford  man 
should  be  forced  upon  them  for  the  highest  academic 
distinction  which  the  university  could  confer.  It 
was  on  this  occasion  that  his  friend,  Lord  Hay,  pre 
sented  him  with  his  doctor's  robes. 


CHAPTER  IV 

A   BUNDLE   OF   LETTERS 

A  COLLECTION  of  letters  of  Dr.  Donne  was  issued  in  a 
4to  volume  by  his  son  John,  in  1654,  that  is,  twenty- 
three  years  after  his  death.  It  was,  as  far  as  I 
know,  the  first  collection  of  private  letters  ever 
published  in  England.  The  appearance  of  the  volume, 
which  had  a  large  sale,  was  due  to  the  high  reputation 
which,  during  his  lifetime,  Donne  had  earned  as  a 
letter-writer.  He  was  so  much  the  representative 
man  of  letters  of  his  time  that  his  contemporaries 
valued  and  admired  everything  he  wrote :  for  them, 
even  his  lighter  writings  had  a  peculiar  charm  which 
it  is  difficult  for  us  to  understand.  Nevertheless, 
these  letters  tell  us  so  much  that  he  only  could  tell, 
— and  could  only  tell  in  his  own  way, — they  give  us 
such  a  curious  insight  into  fashions  and  ways  of 
living,  and  the  tone  of  feeling  among  the  upper 
classes  of  society  during  the  reign  of  James  I.,  and 
they  tell  us  so  much,  too,  about  the  private  life 
of  the  writer  himself,  and  of  the  difficulties 
through  which  he  passed,  and  the  subtile  question 
ings  which  helped  him  to  "  beat  his  music  out,"  that 
it  would  be  an  injustice  to  him  if  a  selection  from 
his  early  correspondence  did  not  form  a  part  of  this 
biography. 


A  BUNDLE  OF  LETTEKS  93 

Donne's  letters,  of  which  about  a  hundred  and  sixty 
have  come  down  to  us,  have  never  yet  been  edited 
with  any  care. 

Those  which  are  here  printed,  were  written,  with 
one  single  exception,  before  his  ordination.  I  have 
arranged  them  in  chronological  order,  by  the  help  of 
such  internal  evidence  as  they  severally  afford.  Donne 
was  a  little  uncertain  in  dating  his  letters ;  at  any- 
rate,  among  those  which  his  son  printed,  only  a 
fraction  are  fully  dated,  and  this  must  make  it 
difficult  to  determine  even  the  year  to  which  any 
one  of  them  is  to  be  referred.  Happily,  our  sources 
for  the  history  of  the  reign  of  James  i.  are  very 
numerous ;  and  if  a  letter  deals  at  all  with  con 
temporary  events,  a  clue  is  rarely  wanting. 


[DONNE  to  SIR  HENRY  GooDERE.]1 

"  SIR,  —  Though  you  escape  my  lifting  up  of  your 
latch  by  removing,  you  cannot  my  letters  ;  yet  of  this 
letter  I  do  not  much  accuse  myself,  for  I  serve  your 
commandment  in  it,  for  it  is  only  to  convey  to  you 
this  paper  opposed  to  those,  with  which  you  trusted 
me.  It  is,  I  cannot  say  the  weightiest,  but  truly  the 
saddest  lucubration  and  night's  passage  that  ever  I 
had.  For  it  exercised  those  hours,  which  —  with 
extreme  danger  of  her,  whom  I  should  hardly  have 
abstained  from  recompensing  for  her  company  in  this 
world,  with  accompanying  her  out  of  it  —  increased 
my  poor  family  with  a  son.  Though  her  anguish, 


date  is  January  1607.     The  son  named  is  Francis,  baptized 
at  Hicham  on  the  8th  of  that  month. 


94  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

and  my  fears,  and  hopes,  seem  divers  and  wild 
distractions  from  this  small  business  of  your  papers, 
yet  because  they  all  narrowed  themselves,  and  met 
in  via  regia,  which  is  the  consideration  of  ourselves 
and  God,  I  thought  it  time  not  unfit  for  this  dispatch. 
Thus  much  more  than  needed  I  have  told  you,  whilst 
my  fire  was  lighting  at  Tricombs,  10  o'clock. 
"  Yours  ever  entirely, 

"  J.  DONNE." 

ii. 

To  the  same. 

"  SIR, — In  the  history  or  style  of  friendship,  which 
is  best  written  both  in  deeds  and  words,  a  letter 
which  is  of  a  mixed  nature,  and  hath  something  of 
both,  is  a  mixed  parenthesis :  it  may  be  left  out, 
yet  it  contributes,  thought  not  to  the  being,  yet  to 
the  verdure,  and  freshness  thereof.  Letters  have 
truly  the  same  office,  as  oaths.  As  these  amongst 
light  and  empty  men,  are  but  fillings,  and  pauses, 
and  interjections ;  but  with  weightier,  they  are  sad 
attestations ;  so  are  letters,  to  some  compliment,  and 
obligation  to  others.  For  mine,  as  I  never  authorised 
my  servant  to  lie  in  my  behalf  (for  if  it  were 
officious  in  him,  it  might  be  worse  in  me),  so  I  allow 
my  letters  much  less  that  civil  dishonesty,  both 
because  they  go  from  me  more  considerately,  and 
because  they  are  permanent;  for  in  them  I  may 
speak  to  you  in  your  chamber  a  year  hence,  before 
I  know  not  whom,  and  not  hear  myself.  They  shall 
therefore  ever  keep  the  sincerity  and  intemerateness 
of  the  fountain,  whence  they  are  derived.  And  as 


A  BUNDLE  OF  LETTERS  95 

wheresoever  these  leaves  fall,  the  root  is  in  my  heart, 
so  shall  they,  as  that  sucks  good  affections  towards 
you  there,  have  ever  true  impressions  thereof.  Thus 
much  information  is  in  very  leaves,  that  they  can 
tell  what  the  tree  is,  and  these  can  tell  you  I  am  a 
friend,  and  an  honest  man.  Of  what  general  use, 
the  fruit  should  speak,  and  I  have  none :  and  of 
what  particular  profit  to  you,  your  application  and 
experimenting  should  tell  you,  and  you  can  make 
none  of  such  a  nothing ;  yet  even  of  barren  sycamores, 
such  as  I,  there  were  use,  if  either  any  light  flashings, 
or  scorching  vehemencies,  or  sudden  showers  made 
you  need  so  shadowy  an  example  or  remembrancer. 
But  (sir)  your  fortune  and  mind  do  you  this  happy 
injury,  that  they  make  all  kinds  of  fruits  useless  unto 
you ;  therefore  I  have  placed  my  love  wisely  where 
I  need  communicate  nothing.  All  this,  though  per 
chance  you  read  it  not  till  Michaelmas,  was  told  you 
at  Micham,  15th  August,  1607." 

in. 

To  the  same. 

"  SIR, — This  letter  hath  more  merit,  than  one  of 
more  diligence,  for  I  wrote  it  in  my  bed,  and  with 
much  pain.  I  have  occasion  to  sit  late  some  nights 
in  my  study  (which  your  books  make  a  pretty 
library),  and  now  I  find  that  that  room  hath  a 
wholesome  emblematic  use :  for  having  under  it  a 
vault,  I  make  that  promise  me,  that  I  shall  die 
reading,  since  my  book  and  a  grave  are  so  near. 
But  it  hath  another  as  unwholesome,  that  by  raw 
vapours  rising  from  thence  (for  I  can  impute  it  to 


96  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

nothing  else),  I  have  contracted  a  sickness  which  I 
cannot  name  nor  describe.  For  it  hath  so  much  of 
a  continual  cramp,  that  wrests  the  sinews,  so  much 
of  a  tetane,  that  it  withdraws  and  pulls  the  mouth, 
and  so  much  of  the  gout  (which  they  whose  counsel 
I  use,  say  it  is),  that  it  is  not  like  to  be  cured, 
though  I  am  too  hasty  in  three  days  to  pronounce  it. 
If  it  be  the  gout,  I  am  miserable ;  for  that  affects 
dangerous  parts,  as  my  neck  and  breast,  and  (I  think 
fearfully)  my  stomach,  but  it  will  not  kill  me  yet ;  I 
shall  be  in  this  world,  like  a  porter  in  a  great  house, 
ever  nearest  the  door,  but  seldomest  abroad :  I  shall 
have  many  things  to  make  me  weary,  and  yet  not 
get  leave  to  be  gone.  If  I  go,  I  will  provide  by  my 
best  means  that  you  suffer  not  for  me,  in  your  bonds. 
The  estate  which  I  should  leave  behind  me  of  any 
estimation,  is  my  poor  fame  in  the  memory  of  my 
friends,  and  therefore  I  would  be  curious  of  it,  and 
provide  that  they  repent  not  to  have  loved  me. 
Since  my  imprisonment  in  my  bed,  I  have  made  a 
meditation  in  verse,  which  I  call  a  "  Litany " ;  the 
word  you  know  imports  no  other  than  supplication, 
but  all  churches  have  one  form  of  supplication,  by 
that  name.  Amongst  ancient  annals,  I  mean  some 
eight  hundred  years,  I  have  met  two  Litanies  in 
Latin  verse,  which  gave  me  not  the  reason  of  my 
meditations,  for  in  good  faith  I  thought  not  upon 
them  then,  but  they  give  me  a  defence,  if  any  man, 
to  a  layman,  and  a  private,  impute  it  as  a  fault,  to 
take  such  divine  and  public  names,  to  his  own  little 
thoughts.  The  first  of  these  was  made  by  Eatpetus, 
a  monk  of  Suevia ;  and  the  other  by  St.  Notker,  of 
whom  I  will  give  you  this  note  by  the  way,  that  he 


A  BUNDLE  OF  LETTERS  97 

is  a  private  saint,  for  a  few  parishes ;  they  were  both 
but  monks,  and  the  Litanies  poor  and  barbarous 
enough ;  yet  Pope  Nicholas  v.  valued  their  devotion 
so  much,  that  he  canonised  both  their  poems,  and 
commanded  them  for  public  service  in  their  churches : 
mine  is  for  lesser  chapels,  which  are  my  friends,  and 
though  a  copy  of  it  were  due  to  you,  now,  yet  I  am 
so  unable  to  serve  myself  with  writing  it  for  you  at 
this  time  (being  some  thirty  staves  of  nine  lines), 
that  I  must  entreat  you  to  take  a  promise  that  you 
shall  have  the  first,  for  a  testimony  of  that  duty 
which  I  owe  to  your  love,  and  to  myself,  who  am 
bound  to  cherish  it  by  my  best  offices.  That  by 
which  it  will  deserve  best  acceptation,  is,  that  neither 
the  Eoman  Church  need  call  it  defective,  because  it 
abhors  not  the  particular  mention  of  the  blessed 
triumphers  in  heaven ;  nor  the  Eeformed  can  dis 
creetly  accuse  it  of  attributing  more  than  a  rectified 
devotion  ought  to  do.  The  day  before  I  lay  down, 
I  was  at  London,  where  I  delivered  your  letter  to 
Sir  Edward  Conway,  and  received  another  for  you, 
with  the  copy  of  my  book,  of  which  it  is  impossible 
for  me  to  give  you  a  copy  so  soon,  for  it  is  not  of 
much  less  than  three  hundred  pages.  If  I  die,  it 
shall  come  to  you  in  that  fashion  that  your  letter 
desires  it.  If  I  warm  again  (as  I  have  often  seen 
such  beggars  as  my  indisposition  is,  end  themselves 
soon,  and  the  patient  as  soon),  you  and  I  shall  speak 
together  of  that,  before  it  be  too  late  to  serve  you  in 
that  commandment.  At  this  time  I  only  assure  you, 
that  I  have  not  appointed  it  upon  any  person,  nor 
ever  purposed  to  print  it :  which  latter  perchance 
you  thought,  and  grounded  your  request  thereupon. 
7 


98  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

A  gentleman  that  visited  me  yesterday,  told  me  that 
our  Church  hath  lost  Mr.  Hugh  Broughton,  who  is 
gone  to  the  Eoman  side.  I  have  known  before,  that 
Serarius  the  Jesuit,  was  an  instrument  from  Cardinal 
Baronius  to  draw  him  to  Kome,  to  accept  a  stipend, 
only  to  serve  the  Christian  Churches  in  controversies 
with  the  Jews,  without  endangering  himself  to  change 
of  his  persuasion  in  particular  deductions  between 
these  Christian  Churches,  or  being  inquired  of,  or 
tempted  thereunto.  And  I  hope  he  is  no  otherwise 
departed  from  us.  If  he  be,  we  shall  not  escape 
scandal  in  it ;  because,  though  he  be  a  man  of  many 
distempers,  yet  when  he  shall  come  to  eat  assured 
bread,  and  to  be  removed  from  partialities — to  which 
want  drove  him,  to  make  himself  a  reputation  and 
raise  up  favourers — you  shall  see  in  that  course  of 
opposing  the  Jews,  he  will  produce  worthy  things : 
and  our  Church  will  perchance  blush  to  have  lost  a 
soldier  fit  for  that  great  battle ;  and  to  cherish  only 
those  single  duellisms,  between  Kome  and  England, 
or  that  more  single,  and  almost  self -homicide,  between 
the  unconformed  ministers,  and  bishops.  Sir,  you 
would  pity  me  if  you  saw  me  write,  and  therefore 
will  pardon  me  if  I  write  no  more :  my  pain  hath 
drawn  my  head  so  much  awry,  and  holds  it  so,  that 
mine  eye  cannot  follow  mine  hand :  I  receive  you 
therefore  into  my  prayers,  with  mine  own  weary 
soul,  and  commend  myself  to  yours.  I  doubt  not 
but  next  week  I  shall  be  good  news  to  you,  for  I 
have  mending  or  dying  on  my  side,  which  is  two  to 
one.  If  I  continue  thus,  I  shall  have  comfort  in 
this,  that  my  blessed  Saviour  exercising  His  justice 
upon  my  two  worldly  parts,  my  fortune,  and  body, 


A  BUNDLE  OF  LETTERS  99 

reserves  all  His  mercy  for  that  which  best  tastes  it, 
and  most  needs  it,  my  soul.  I  profess  to  you  truly, 
that  my  lothness  to  give  over  now,  seems  to  myself 
an  ill  sign  that  I  shall  write  no  more. 

"  Your  poor  friend,  and  God's  poor  patient, 

"  J.  DONNE." 

The  mention  of  Hugh  Bronghton,  as  having  "  gone 
to  the  Koman  side,"  fixes  the  date  of  this  letter. 
Broughton,  of  whom  a  fair  account  is  given  in  the  , 
Dictionary  of  National  Biography,  never  had  any 
dream  of  "  going  to  the  Eoman  side " ;  but  he  left 
England  in  1607,  and  returned  only  to  die  in  1611. 
The  letter  is  interesting  as  showing  that,  however  ill 
he  may  have  been,  it  was  Donne's  practice  to  write 
on  his  sickbed.  The  book  referred  to  can  be  none 
other  than  the  Biathanatos. 

IV. 

A.  V.  MERCED.1 

"  SIR, — I  write  not  to  you  out  of  my  poor  library, 
where  to  cast  mine  eye  upon  good  authors  kindles  or 
refreshes  sometimes  meditations  not  unfit  to  com 
municate  to  near  friends ;  nor  from  the  high  way, 
where  I  am  contracted,  and  inverted  into  myself ; 
which  are  my  two  ordinary  forges  of  letters  to  you, 
but  I  write  from  the  fireside  of  my  parlour,  and  in 
the  noise  of  three  gamesome  children ;  and  by  the 
side  of  her,  whom  because  I  have  transplanted  into 
a  wretched  fortune,  I  must  labour  to  disguise  that 

1A  vuestra  merced,  a  Spanish  compliment  signifying,  to  your 
worship,  or  your  grace. 


100  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

from  her  by  all  such  honest  devices,  as  giving  her  my 
company  and  discourse,  therefore  I  steal  from  her, 
all  the  time  which  I  give  this  letter,  and  it  is  there 
fore  that  I  take  so  short  a  list,  and  gallop  so  fast 
over  it.  I  have  not  been  out  of  my  house  since  I 
received  your  packet.  As  I  have  much  quenched 
my  senses  and  disused  my  body  from  pleasure,  and 
so  tried  how  I  can  endure  to  be  mine  own  grave,  so 
I  try  now  how  I  can  suffer  a  prison.  And  since  it 
is  but  to  build  one  wall  more  about  our  soul,  she  is 
still  in  her  own  centre  how  many  circumferences  soever 
fortune  or  our  own  perverseness  cast  about  her.  I 
would  I  could  as  well  entreat  her  to  go  out,  as  she 
knows  whither  to  go.  But  if  I  melt  into  a  melan 
choly  whilst  I  write,  I  shall  be  taken  in  the  manner : 
and  I  sit  by  one  too  tender  towards  these  impressions, 
and  it  is  so  much  our  duty,  to  avoid  all  occasions  of 
giving  them  sad  apprehensions,  as  St.  Hierome  accuses 
Adam  of  no  other  fault  in  eating  the  apple,  but  that 
he  did  it  Ne  contristaretur  delicias  suas.  I  am  not 
careful  what  I  write,  because  the  enclosed  letters 
may  dignify  this  ill-favoured  bark,  and  they  need  not 
grudge  so  coarse  a  countenance  because  they  are  now 
to  accompany  themselves;  my  man  fetched  them, 
and  therefore  I  can  say  no  more  of  them  than 
themselves  say ;  Mistress  Meautys  entreated  me  by 
her  letter  to  hasten  hers,  as  I  think,  for  by  my  troth 
I  cannot  read  it.  My  lady  was  dispatching  in  so 
much  haste  for  Twickenham,  as  she  gave  no  word  to 
a  letter  which  I  sent  with  yours ;  of  Sir  Thomas 
Bartlet,  I  can  say  nothing,  nor  of  the  plague,  though 
your  letter  bid  me :  but  that  he  diminishes,  the 
other  increases,  but  in  what  proportion  I  am  not 


A  BUNDLE  OF  LETTERS  101 

clear.  To  them  at  Hammersmith,  and  Mrs.  Herbert 
I  will  do  your  command.  If  I  have  been  good  in 
hope,  or  can  promise  any  little  offices  in  the  future, 
probably  it  is  comfortable,  for  I  am  the  worst  present 
man  in  the  world ;  yet  the  instant,  though  it  be 
nothing,  joins  times  together,  and  therefore  this 
unprofitableness,  since  I  have  been,  and  will  still 
endeavour  to  be  so,  shall  not  interrupt  me  now  from 
being 

"  Your  servant  and  lover, 

"  J.  DONNE." 

Mistress  Meautys  is  Jane,  daughter  of  Hercules 
Meautys,  Esq.,  of  West  Ham,  County  Essex.  She  was 
one  of  the  young  ladies  who  "  waited  on "  Lady 
Bedford.  She  married  Sir  William  Cornwallis  of 
Brome,  County  Suffolk,  in  1608. 

v. 

To  the  same. 

"  SIR, — Though  my  friendship  be  good  for  nothing 
else,  it  may  give  you  the  profit  of  a  tentation,  or  of 
an  affliction :  it  may  excuse  your  patience ;  and 
though  it  cannot  allure  it  shall  importune  you. 
Though  I  know  you  have  many  worthy  friends  of  all 
ranks,  yet  I  add  something,  since  I  which  am  of  none, 
would  fain  be  your  friend  too.  There  is  some  of  the 
honour  and  some  of  the  degree  of  a  creation,  to  make 
a  friendship  of  nothing.  Yet,  not  to  annihilate  myself 
utterly  (for  though  it  seem  humbleness,  yet  it  is  a 
work  of  as  much  almightiness  to  bring  a  thing  to 
nothing,  as  from  nothing),  though  I  be  not  of  the 


102  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

best  stuff  for  friendship,  which  men  of  warm  and 
durable  fortunes  only  are,  I  cannot  say  that  I  am 
not  of  the  best  fashion,  if  truth  and  honesty  be  that ; 
which  I  must  ever  exercise,  towards  you,  because  I 
learned  it  of  you :  for  the  conversation  with  worthy 
men  and  of  good  example  though  it  sow  not  virtue 
in  us,  yet  produceth  and  ripeneth  it.  Your  man's 
haste,  and  mine  to  Micham,  cuts  off  this  letter  here, 
yet,  as  in  little  patterns  torn  from  a  whole  piece,  this 
may  tell  you  what  all  I  am.  Though  by  taking  me 
before  my  day  (which  I  accounted  Tuesday)  I  make 
short  payment  of  this  duty  of  letters,  yet  I  have  a 
little  comfort  in  this,  that  you  see  me  hereby  willing 
to  pay  those  debts  which  I  can,  before  my  time. 
"  Your  affectionate  friend, 

"  J.  DONNE. 

"First  Saturday  in  March  1607  [i.e.  7th  March  1608.] 
"  You  forgot  to  send  me  the  Apology ;  and  many 
times,  I  think  it  an  injury  to  remember  one  of  a 
promise,  lest  it  confess  a  distrust.  But  of  the  book, 
by  occasion  of  reading  the  Dean's  answer  to  it,  I 
have  sometimes  some  want." 

The  book  mentioned  is  Brerely's  The  Protestant 
Apologie  for  the  Roman  Church  ;  the  real  author  of 
which  work  was  Lawrence  Anderton,  S.J.  The  book 
was  published  in  London  in  1606.  Dr.  Morton's 
answer  to  Brerely  was  presented  to  James  I.  on  the 
27th  October  1609.  It  is  clear,  from  this  letter, 
that  Donne  was  at  this  time  "  reading  " — i.e.  revising, 
correcting  and  suggesting — for  Morton's  Catholic  Appeale, 
which  was  at  this  time  being  prepared  for  the  press ; 
"  the  Dean  "  is,  of  course,  Dr.  Morton. 


A  BUNDLE  OF  LETTERS  103 

VI. 

To  the  same. 

"  SIB, — To  you  that  are  not  easily  scandalized, 
and  in  whom,  I  hope,  neither  my  religion  nor 
morality  can  suffer,  I  dare  write  my  opinion  of  that 
book  in  whose  bowels  you  left  me.  It  hath  re 
freshed,  and  given  new  justice  to  my  ordinary 
complaint,  that  the  divines  of  these  times,  are  become 
mere  advocates,  as  though  religion  were  a  temporal 
inheritance ;  they  plead  for  it  with  all  sophistications, 
and  illusions,  and  forgeries,  and  herein  are  they 
likest  advocates,  that  though  they  be  feed  by  the  way 
with  dignities,  and  other  recompenses,  yet  that  for 
which  they  plead  is  none  of  theirs.  They  write  for 
religion,  without  it.  In  the  main  point  in  question, 
I  think  truly  there  is  "a  perplexity  (as  far  as  I  see 
yet),  and  both  sides  may  be  in  justice  and  innocence  ; 
and  the  wounds  which  they  inflict  upon  the  adverse 
part,  are  all  se  defendendo :  for,  clearly,  our  state 
cannot  be  safe  without  the  oath ;  since  they  profess, 
that  clergymen,  though  traitors,  are  no  subjects,  and 
that  all  the  rest  may  be  none  to-morrow.  And,  as 
clearly,  the  supremacy  which  the  Eoman  Church 
pretends,  were  diminished,  if  it  were  limited  ;  and  will 
as  ill  abide  that,  or  disputation,  as  the  prerogative 
of  temporal  kings,  who  being  the  only  judges  of  their 
prerogative,  why  may  not  Eoinan  bishops  (so  en 
lightened  as  they  are  presumed  by  them)  be  good 
witnesses  of  their  own  supremacy,  which  is  now  so 
much  impugned  ?  But  for  this  particular  author,  I 
looked  for  more  prudence,  and  human  wisdom  in  him, 


104  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

in  avoiding  all  miscitings,  or  misinterpretings,  because 
at  this  time,  the  watch  is  set,  and  everybody's  hammer 
is  upon  that  anvil ;  and  to  dare  offend  in  that  kind 
now  is,  for  a  thief  to  leave  the  covert,  and  meet  a 
strong  hue  and  cry  in  the  teeth :  and  yet  truly  this 
man  is  extremely  obnoxious  in  that  kind ;  for,  though 
he  have  answered  many  things  fully  (as  no  book  ever 
gave  more  advantage  than  that  which  he  undertook), 
and  abound  in  delicate  applications,  and  ornaments, 
from  the  divine  and  profane  authors,  yet  being  chiefly 
conversant  about  two  points,  he  prevaricates  in  both. 
For,  for  the  matter,  which  is  the  first,  he  refers  it 
entirely,  and  namely,  to  that  which  Dr.  Morton  hath 
said  therein  before,  and  so  leaves  it  roundly :  and  for 
the  person  (which  is  the  second)  upon  whom  he 
amasses  as  many  opprobries,  as  any  other  could 
deserve,  he  pronounceth,  that  he  will  account  any 
answer  from  his  adversary,  slander,  except  he  do  (as 
he  hath  done)  draw  whatsoever  he  saith  of  him,  from 
authors  of  the  same  religion,  and  in  print :  and  so,  he 
having  made  use  of  all  the  quodlibetaries  and  imputa 
tions  against  the  other,  cannot  be  obnoxious  himself 
in  that  kind,  and  so  hath  provided  safely.  It  were 
no  service  to  you,  to  send  you  my  notes  upon  the 
book,  because  they  are  sandy,  and  incoherent  rags, 
for  my  memory,  not  for  your  judgment;  and  to 
extend  them  to  an  easiness,  and  perspicuity,  would 
make  them  a  pamphlet,  not  a  letter.  I  will  therefore 
defer  them  till  I  see  you  ;  and  in  the  meantime,  I 
will  adventure  to  say  to  you,  without  inserting  one 
unnecessary  word,  that  the  book  is  full  of  falsifications 
in  words  and  in  sense,  and  of  falsehoods  in  matter  of 
fact,  and  of  inconsequent  and  unscholarlike  arguings, 


A  BUNDLE  OF  LETTERS  105 

and  of  relinquishing  the  king,  in  many  points  of 
defence,  and  of  contradiction  of  himself,  and  of 
dangerous  and  suspected  doctrine  in  divinity,  and  of 
silly  ridiculous  triflings,  and  of  extreme  flatteries,  and 
of  neglecting  better  and  more  obvious  answers,  and 
of  letting  slip  some  enormous  advantages  which  the 
other  gave,  and  he  spies  not.  I  know  (as  I  begun) 
I  speak  to  you  who  cannot  be  scandalized,  and  that 
neither  measure  religion  (as  it  is  now  called)  by  unity, 
nor  suspect  unity,  for  these  interruptions.  Sir,  not 
only  a  mathematic  point,  which  is  the  most  indivisible 
and  unique  thing  which  art  can  present,  flows  into 
every  line  which  is  derived  from  the  centre,  but  our 
soul  which  is  but  one,  hath  swallowed  up  a  negative, 
and  feeling  soul ;  which  was  in  the  body  before  it 
came,  and  exercises  those  faculties  yet ;  and  God 
Himself,  who  only  is  one,  seems  to  have  been  eternally 
delighted,  with  a  disunion  of  persons.  They  whose 
active  function  it  is,  must  endeavour  this  unity  in 
religion :  and  we  at  our  lay  altars  (which  are  our 
tables,  or  bedside,  or  stools,  wheresoever  we  dare 
prostrate  ourselves  to  God  in  prayer)  must  beg  it  of 
Him  :  but  we  must  take  heed  of  making  misconclusions 
upon  the  want  of  it :  for,  whether  the  mayor  and 
alderman  fall  out  (as  with  us  and  the  Puritans ; 
bishops  against  priests),  or  the  commoners'  voices 
differ  who  is  mayor,  and  who  alderman,  or  what  their 
jurisdiction  (as  with  the  Bishop  of  Eome,  or  whoso 
ever),  yet  it  is  still  one  corporation. 

"  Your  very  affectionate  servant  and  lover, 
"  Micham,  Thursday,  late.  "  J.  DONNE." 

"  Never  leave  the  remembrance  of  my  poor  service 
unmentioned  when  you  see  the  good  lady." 


106  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

The  severe  and  trenchant  criticism  in  this  letter 
was  provoked  by  Bishop  William  Barlow's  Answer  to 
a  Catholike  Englishman,  dedicated  to  James  I.,  and 
published  in  a  4 to  volume  of  370  pages,  in  1609. 
It  is  a  wretched  performance  ;  but  Barlow  had,  all  his 
life  through,  some  very  zealous  friends,  and  he  must 
have  had  some  popular  talents. 

VII. 

To  Yourself. 

"  SIK, — All  your  other  letters,  which  came  to  me 
by  more  hazardous  ways,  had  therefore  much  merit 
in  them ;  but  for  your  letter  by  Mr.  Pory,  it  was  but 
a  little  degree  of  favour,  because  the  messenger  was 
so  obvious,  and  so  certain,  that  you  could  not  choose 
but  write  by  him.  But  since  he  brought  me  as  much 
letter  as  all  the  rest,  I  must  accept  that,  as  well  as 
the  rest. 

"  By  this  time,  Mr.  Garret,  when  you  know  in  your 
conscience  that  you  have  sent  no  letter,  you  begin  to 
look  upon  the  superscription,  and  doubt  that  you 
have  broken  up  some  other  body's  letter :  but  whose 
soever  it  were  is  must  speak  the  same  language,  for  I 
have  heard  from  nobody. 

"  Sir,  if  there  be  a  proclamation  in  England  against 
writing  to  me,  yet  since  it  is  thereby  become  a  matter 
of  state,  you  might  have  told  Mr.  Pory  so.  And  you 
might  have  told  him,  what  became  of  Sir  Thomas 
Lucy's  letter,  in  iny  first  packet  (for  any  letter  to  him 
makes  any  paper  a  packet,  and  any  piece  of  single 
money  a  medal),  and  what  became  of  my  Lady 
Kingsmel's  in  my  second,  and  of  hers  in  my  third 


A  BUNDLE  OF  LETTERS  107 

whom    I  will   not   name  to  you  in  hope   that   it   is 
perished,  and  you  lost  the  honour  of  giving  it. 

"  Sir,  mine  own  desire  of  being  your  servant,  hath 
sealed  me  a  patent  of  that  place  during  my  life,  and 
therefore  it  shall  not  be  in  the  power  of  your  for 
bidding  (to  which  your  stiff  silence  amounts)  to  make 
me  leave  being 

"  Your  very  affectionate  servant, 

"  J.  DONNE." 

This  letter  was  written  to  George  Gerrard,  second 
son  of  Sir  William  Gerrard  [Garrard  or  Garret]  of 
Dorney,  County  Bucks.  He  was  an  early  and  life 
long  friend  of  Donne's,  and  became  Master  of  the 
Charterhouse. 

Donne  was  at  this  time  abroad  with  Sir  Robert 
Drury,  and  looking  for  letters  from  his  friends. 
None,  it  seems,  had  reached  him.  Mr.  Pory  was  a 
king's  messenger  who  went  to  and  fro  with  despatches. 
Sir  Thomas  Lucy  was  the  son  and  heir  of  Sir  Thomas 
Lucy  of  Charlcote,  whose  deer  Shakespeare  is  said  to 
have  had  to  do  with.  He  had  travelled  with  Lord 
Herbert  of  Cherbury  in  1608—9,  and  was  a  close 
friend  of  Donne's. 

VIII. 

To  the  Honourable  Knight,  SIR  EGBERT  CARR, 
Gentleman  of  His  Highnesses  Bedchamber. 

"  SIR, — I  have  always  your  leave  to  use  my  liberty, 
but  now  I  must  use  my  bondage.  Which  is  my 
necesssity  of  obeying  a  precontract  laid  upon  me. 
I  go  to-morrow  to  Camberwell,  a  mile  beyond  South- 


108  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

wark.  But  from  this  town  goes  with  me  my  brother 
Sir  Thomas  Grymes  and  his  lady,  and  I  with  them. 
There  we  dine  well  enough  I  warrant  you,  with  his 
father-in-law,  Sir  Thomas  Hunt.  If  I  keep  my  whole 
promise,  I  shall  preach  both  forenoon  and  afternoon. 
But  1  will  obey  your  commandments  for  my  return. 
If  you  cannot  be  there  by  ten,  do  not  put  yourself 
upon  the  way :  for,  sir,  you  have  done  me  more 
honour,  than  I  can  be  worthy  of,  in  missing  me  so 
diligently.  I  can  hope  to  hear  Mr.  Moulin  again : 
or  ruminate  what  I  have  heretofore  heard.  The  only 
miss  that  I  shall  have  is  of  the  honour  of  waiting  upon 
you ;  which  is  somewhat  recompensed,  if  thereby  you 
take  occasion  of  not  putting  yourself  to  that  pain,  to 
be  more  assured  of  the  inabilities  of 

"  Your  unworthy  servant, 

"  J.  DONNE." 

Internal  evidence  shows  this  letter  to  have  been 
written  within  six  months  after  Donne's  ordination. 
Peter  du  Moulin,  the  French  divine,  preached  before 
James  I.  on  the  6th  June  1615.  He  had  been 
invited  to  England  by  the  king,  but  his  stay  was 
short.  Sir  Thomas  Hunt  of  Foulsham,  Norfolk, 
married,  as  his  second  wife,  Jane,  mother  of  Sir 
Thomas  Grymes  of  Camberwell.  He  himself  died  in 
January  1617.  Donne  was  evidently  engaged  to 
preach  twice  at  Camberwell. 


CHAPTER  V 

LINCOLN'S  INN  DAYS 

IZAAK  WALTON  tells  us  that  Donne  preached  his  first 
sermon  in  the  parish  church  of  Paddington,  then  a 
village  on  the  outskirts  of  London.  The  living  was 
a  "  perpetual  curacy "  in  the  gift  of  the  Bishop  of 
London,  and  the  incumbent  was  one  Griffen  Edwards, 
of  whom  little  is  known.  He  had  held  Paddington 
with  the  curacy  of  Marylebone  since  1598,  and  con 
tinued  to  hold  them  till  1640.  We  can  well  believe 
that  he  was  glad  to  offer  his  pulpit  to  one  who  was 
already  famous  and  marked  out  for  high  preferment. 
The  little  church,  though  it  had  an  east  window  filled 
with  stained  glass,  in  which  a  figure  of  St.  Catherine 
occupied  the  most  conspicuous  place,  must  have  been 
already  in  a  condition  of  decay,  and  about  sixty  years 
later, — in  1678, — being  old  and  ruinous,  it  was  pulled 
down  and  rebuilt  at  the  cost  of  Sir  Joseph — Lord 
Mayor  of  London  in  1675 — and  his  brother,  Mr. 
Daniel  Shelton,  the  lessee  of  the  manor  of  Padding 
ton.  What  the  subject  of  Donne's  sermon  was  we 
are  not  told. 

The  earliest  dated  sermon  which  has  come  down  to 
us  was  preached  before  Queen  Anne  of  Denmark  at 
Greenwich,  on  the  30th  April.  The  queen  was  at 
this  time  spending  large  sums  of  money  upon  this  her 

109 


110  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

favourite  residence,  under  the  direction  and  advice  of 
Inigo  Jones,  and  had  gone  there  from  Somerset  House, 
afterwards  better  known  as  Denmark  House,  which 
was  her  town  residence.  Here,  just  a  week  previously, 
Villiers  had  been  knighted  by  the  king,  after  being 
made  a  Gentleman  of  the  Bedchamber.  Lord  Somer 
set  was  playing  his  cards  very  badly,  and  his  influence 
with  James  was  almost  gone.  Villiers  had  entirely 
supplanted  him.  And  though  he  was  now  only  in  his 
twenty-third  year,  he  was  rising  every  day  in  his  royal 
master's  favour,  and  treated  by  that  master  rather  as 
a  son  than  as  a  subject.  The  text  of  Donne's  sermon 
on  this  occasion  was  taken  from  Isaiah  lii.  3  :  "  Thus 
saith  the  Lord,  Ye  have  sold  yourselves  for  nought ;  and 
ye  shall  be  redeemed  without  money!'  Donne  seems  to 
have  set  himself  in  his  sermon  to  lift  up  his  voice 
against  the  portentous  extravagance  of  his  time.  Sel 
dom  in  our  history  has  there  been  more  reckless  squan 
derings  and  senseless  profusion  than  in  the  days  of 
James  I.  Donne's  warm  friend,  Lord  Hay,  was  conspic 
uous  for  the  unmeasured  waste  of  his  large  resources, 
and  the  mischievous  example  which  he  set  of  costly 
entertainments  and  magnificent  display.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  fashion  of  leaving  money  and  lands 
for  charitable  uses — after  having  gone  out  since  the 
spoliation  of  the  monasteries  for  well-nigh  a  century- 
had  now  begun  to  revive,  and  was  soon  to  be  signalised 
by  such  foundations  as  that  of  the  Charterhouse  by 
Sutton,  and  of  Dulwich  College  by  Allen.  It  is 
worthy  of  notice  how  Donne  so  early  in  his  career 
sets  himself  to  deal  with  this  subject. 

"  God  can  raise  up  children  out  of  the  stones  of 
the  street/'  he  says,  "  and  therefore  He  might  be  as 


LINCOLN'S  INN  DAYS  in 

liberal  as  He  would  of  His  people,  and  suffer  them  to 
be  sold  for  old  shoes.  But  Christ  will  not  sell  His 
birthright  for  a  mess  of  pottage,  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  for  the  dole  at  a  funeral.  Heaven  is  not  to 
be  had  in  exchange  for  an  hospital,  or  a  chantry,  or  a 
college  erected  in  thy  last  will ;  it  is  not  only  the 
selling  of  all  we  have,  that  must  buy  that  pearl,  which 
represents  the  kingdom  of  heaven;  the  giving  of  all 
that  we  have  to  the  poor,  at  our  death,  will  not  do  it ; 
the  pearl  must  be  sought,  and  found  before,  in  an 
even  and  constant  course  of  sanctification ;  we  must 
be  thrifty  all  our  life,  or  we  shall  be  too  poor  for  that 
purchase." 

How  the  preacher  was  listened  to  we  are  not  told : 
the  probability  is  that  the  man  who  so  lately  had 
been  conspicuous  among  the  courtiers  as  a  wit  and 
man  of  letters  would  hardly  be  accepted  thus  early  as 
a  pulpit  orator  with  a  message  from  God.  Curiosity 
must  have  been  uppermost  in  the  minds  of  his  hearers, 
and  the  thought,  "  Is  Saul  also  among  the  prophets  ? " 
He  had  to  win  confidence  and  respect,  and  it  seems 
that  he  did  not  take  the  town  by  storm. 

During  the  year  which  passed  after  his  ordination 
we  hear  little  or  nothing  of  his  movements.  Walton's 
assertion  that  he  received  the  offer  of  fourteen  bene 
fices  during  this  short  period  is  quite  incredible,  and 
the  other  assertion  that  immediately  after  his  ordina 
tion  the  king  made  him  his  chaplain  is  certainly 
untrue. 

More  than  a  year  later  he  writes  to  Lord  Hay, 
begging  him  to  use  his  influence  to  obtain  this  dis 
tinction  for  him. 

It  seems  clear  that  James,  after  obtaining  for  him 


112  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNF, 

the  doctor's  degree  at  Cambridge,  had  not  thought  fit 
to  do  anything  more  for  him  until  he  had  had  some 
probation  and  shown  himself  qualified  for  preferment. 
Donne  was  saddened,  and  entreated  Lord  Hay  "  to 
take  some  time  to  move  His  Majesty  before  he  go  out 
of  town,  that  I  may  be  his  servant,  which  request 
...  I  hope  you  shall  not  find  difficult  nor  unreason 
able."  The  application  was  made  accordingly,  and  on 
the  21st  April  1616  we  find  Donne  preaching  at 
Whitehall  just  at  the  time  when  the  horrible  revela 
tions  connected  with  the  murder  of  Sir  Thomas  Over- 
bury  were  being  discussed  by  everyone  and  were  the 
subject  of  common  talk.  The  sermon  on  Eccles.  viii. 
11 — "Because  sentence  against  an  evil  work  is  not  exe 
cuted  speedily,  therefore  the  heart  of  the  sons  of  men  is  fully 
set  in  them  to  do  evil " — contains  some  fine  passages 
which  the  congregation  can  hardly  have  helped  apply 
ing  to  the  dreadful  circumstances  uppermost  in  the 
minds  of  all ;  and  the  text  itself  must  have  come  upon 
them  with  a  profound  suggestiveness  and  significance. 

A  little  after  this,  Donne  was  presented  to  the 
living  of  Keystone  in  Hunts,  and  in  July  he  became 
rector  of  the  valuable  benefice  of  Sevenoaks  in  Kent. 
At  neither  of  these  places  did  he  ever  reside  for  more 
than  a  few  weeks  at  a  time,  though  he  held  the  first 
till  1622,  and  the  other  to  the  end  of  his  life. 

In  those  days  the  holder  of  a  benefice  was  considered 
to  have  done  his  duty  to  the  parish  from  which  he 
derived  his  income,  if  he  took  due  care  that  the 
ordinary  ministrations  of  divine  service  in  the 
sanctuary  were  adequately  provided  for,  and  the 
parsonage  occupied  by  a  curate  who  ministered  to  the 
necessities  and  spiritual  wants  of  the  people.  There 


LINCOLN'S  INN  DAYS  na 

was  no  feeling  against  a  man  of  learning  and  eminence 
holding  two  or  more  livings  in  plurality.  It  was 
thought  better  that  a  clergyman  of  great  gifts  should 
be  supported  out  of  the  surplus  income  of  a  rich 
benefice,  and  allowed  to  exercise  his  talents  in  a 
sphere  which  needed  his  personal  presence  and  in 
fluence,  rather  than  that  he  should  be  buried  in  a 
country  village  where  he  would  be  likely  to  live  and 
die  forgotten  and  unknown. 

In  the  autumn  of  this  year  (1616)  another  piece 
of  preferment  was  offered  to  and  accepted  by  Donne. 
The  Preachership  of  Lincoln's  Inn,  then  regarded  as 
one  of  the  most  important  positions  which  a  clergy 
man  could  hold  in  London,  fell  vacant  by  the  death 
of  Dr.  Thomas  Holloway,  Fellow  of  Balliol,  who  had 
held  it  since  1611.  Donne  had  many  friends  among 
the  Benchers,  not  the  least  zealous  being  Christopher 
Brooke,  who  had  got  himself  into  trouble  by  being 
present  at  Donne's  marriage.  By  an  order  of  the 
Masters  of  the  Bench,  dated  24th  October  1616,  it 
was  resolved  that  "  Mr.  Doctor  Donne  is  at  this 
council  chosen  to  be  Divinity  Eeader  of  this  house, 
.  .  .  and  is  to  preach  every  Sabbath  day  in  the  term, 
both  forenoon  and  afternoon,  and  once  before  and 
after  every  term,  and  on  the  grand  days  every  fore 
noon,  and  on  the  reading  times."  The  post  was  no 
sinecure ;  it  involved  the  preaching  of  about  fifty 
sermons  every  year  to  a  highly-educated  and  critical 
audience.  "  And  now,"  says  Walton,  "  his  life  was  as 
a  shining  light  among  his  old  friends ;  now  he  gave 
ocular  testimony  of  the  strictness  and  regularity  of  it ; 
now  he  might  say,  as  St.  Paul  adviseth  the  Corinthians, 
'  Be  ye  followers  of  me,  as  I  follow  Christ,  and  walk  as 
8 


114  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

ye  have  me  for  an  example]  not  the  example  of  a  busy 
body,  but  of  a  contemplative,  a  harmless,  a  humble, 
and  a  holy  life  and  conversation." 

To  Donne  the  appointment  was  in  every  way  a 
desirable  one  ;  "  for,  besides  fair  lodgings  that  were  set 
apart  and  newly  furnished  for  him  with  all  necessaries, 
other  courtesies  were  also  daily  added,  indeed,  so 
many  and  so  freely,  as  if  they  meant  their  gratitude 
should  exceed  his  merits, — he  preaching  faithfully  and 
constantly  to  them,  and  they  liberally  rewarding  him." 

After  long  years  of  waiting  and  difficulty,  prosperity 
had  come  at  last.  He  was  now  in  his  forty-third 
year,  and,  if  his  income  was  not  too  large,  it  was,  at 
anyrate,  sufficient  for  his  necessities,  and  his  time  of 
anxiety  was  at  an  end. 

While  Donne  had  been  living  for  the  last  sixteen 
years  the  anxious  and  worrying  life  of  a  man  whose 
income  could  never  be  made  to  square  with  his 
necessary  expenditure,  his  mother,  who  had  been  left 
in  affluence  at  her  first  husband's  death,  in  1575,  had 
herself  experienced  great  vicissitudes  of  fortune. 

We  know  very  little  about  her  during  those  years  ; 
there  is  no  doubt  that  she  was  a  zealous  and  profuse 
supporter  of  the  seminary  priests  and  Jesuit  fathers, 
and  that  she  was  noted  as  a  liberal  contributor  to  the 
necessities  of  those  who,  like  herself,  were  determined 
adherents  of  the  "  Catholic "  persuasion.  A  lady, 
whose  portion  bequeathed  by  her  first  husband  was 
considerable,  was  not  likely  to  remain  long  a  widow. 
It  is  true  she  had  six  children,  but  they  too  were  all 
provided  for,  and  she  can  hardly  have  been  thirty 
years  old  when  her  first  husband  died.  The  books  of 
the  Ironmongers'  Company  show  that  all  her  children 


LINCOLN'S  INN  DAYS  115 

died  under  age  except  the  future  Dean  of  St.  Paul's, 
and  a  daughter,  Anne,  who  in  1586  married  Avery 
Copeley,  one  of  a  Yorkshire  family — all  of  whom  were 
staunch  Eomanists,  and  many  of  them  suffered  for 
their  religious  opinions.  In  1594  Anne  married,  as 
her  second  husband,  William  Lyly  of  London,  gentle 
man,  of  whom  I  have  discovered  nothing.  She 
appears  to  have  died  about  1616.  Her  mother  had 
by  this  time  changed  her  name,  at  least  once,  since 
her  first  widowhood,1  and  had,  as  we  must  infer  from 
her  son's  letter  addressed  to  her  in  her  hour  of  sorrow 
and  bereavement,  spent  all  her  own  fortune. 

The  following  letter  acquires  a  peculiar  interest  and 
pathos  when  it  is  remembered  that  something  like 
estrangement  between  mother  and  son  must  in 
evitably  have  arisen  in  consequence  of  the  decided 
line  which  Donne  had  taken  in  the  religious  dis 
cussions  of  the  time,  and  the  consequent  cleavage  that 
had  ensued  in  what  had  been  common  ground  for 
mother  and  son  in  earlier  days. 

Though  this  letter  is  undated,  it  is  certain  that  it 
was  written  before  the  15th  August  1617,  when 
Donne  lost  his  wife. 


DR.  DONNE  to  his  MOTHER,  comforting  her  after  the 
death  of  her  daughter. 

"MY   MOST  DEAR   MOTHER, — When  I   consider    so 
much  of  your  life,  as  can  fall  within  my  memory  and 

1  My  lamented  friend,  the  late  T.  R.  O'fllahertie,  professed  to  have 
discovered  a  second  and  third  marriage  of  Donne's  mother — the  second 
to  one  Simmonds,  the  third  to  a  Mr.  Rainsford.  He  could  tell  me 
nothing  about  either  of  them. 


116  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

observation,  I  find  it  to  have  been  a  sea,  under  a 
continual  tempest,  where  one  wave  hath  ever  over 
taken  another.  Our  most  wise  and  blessed  Saviour 
chooseth  what  way  it  pleaseth  Him,  to  conduct  those 
which  He  loves  to  His  haven  and  eternal  rest.  The 
way  which  He  hath  chosen  for  you  is  strait,  stormy, 
obscure,  and  full  of  sad  apparitions  of  death  and  wants, 
and  sundry  discomforts ;  and  it  hath  pleased  Him, 
that  one  discomfort  should  still  succeed,  and  touch 
another,  that  He  might  leave  you  no  leisure,  by  any 
pleasure  or  abundance,  to  stay  or  step  out  of  that  way, 
or  almost  to  take  breath  in  that  way  by  which  He 
hath  determined  to  bring  you  home,  which  is  His 
glorious  kingdom.  One  of  the  most  certain  marks 
and  assurances,  that  all  these  are  His  works,  and  to 
that  good  end  is  your  inward  feeling  and  apprehension 
of  them  a  patience  in  them.  As  long  as  the  Spirit 
of  God  distils  and  dews  His  cheerfulness  upon  your 
heart ;  as  long  as  He  instructs  your  understanding  to 
interpret  His  mercies  and  His  judgments  aright ;  so 
long  your  comfort  must  needs  be  as  much  greater  than 
others  as  your  afflictions  are  greater  than  theirs.  The 
happiness  which  God  afforded  to  your  first  young 
time ;  which  was  the  love  and  care  of  my  most  dear 
and  provident  father,  whose  soul,  I  hope  hath  long 
since  enjoyed  the  sight  of  our  blessed  Saviour,  and  had 
compassion  of  all  our  miseries  in  the  world,  God 
removed  from  you  quickly,  and  hath  since  taken 
from  you  all  the  comfort  that  that  marriage  produced. 
All  those  children  (for  whose  maintenance  his  industry 
provided,  and  for  whose  education  you  were  so  care 
fully  and  so  chargeably  diligent)  He  hath  now  taken 
from  you.  All  that  wealth  which  he  left,  God  hath 


LINCOLN'S  INN  DAYS  117 

suffered  to  be  gone  from  us  all ;  so  that  God  hath 
seemed  to  repent,  that  He  allowed  any  part  of  your  life 
any  earthly  happiness ;  that  He  might  keep  your  soul 
in  continual  exercise,  and  longing,  and  assurance  of 
corning  immediately  to  Him.  I  hope  therefore,  my 
most  dear  mother,  that  your  experience  of  the 
calamities  of  this  life,  your  continual  acquaintance  with 
the  visitations  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  which  gives  better 
inward  comforts,  than  the  world  can  outward  discom 
forts,  your  wisdom  to  distinguish  the  value  of  this 
world  from  the  next,  and  your  religious  fear  of 
offending  our  merciful  God  by  repining  at  anything 
which  He  doeth,  will  preserve  you  from  any  inordinate 
and  dangerous  sorrow  for  the  loss  of  my  most  beloved 
sister.  For  my  part,  which  am  only  left  now  to  do 
the  office  of  a  child,  though  the  poorness  of  my 
fortune,  and  the  greatness  of  my  charge,  hath  not 
suffered  me  to  express  my  duty  towards  you,  as  became 
me ;  yet  I  protest  to  you  before  Almighty  God  and  His 
angels  and  saints  in  heaven,  that  I  do,  and  ever  shall, 
esteem  myself  to  be  as  strongly  bound  to  look  to  you 
and  provide  for  your  relief,  as  for  my  own  poor  wife 
and  children.  For  whatsoever  I  shall  be  able  to  do 
I  acknowledge  to  be  a  debt  to  you  from  whom  I  had 
that  education,  which  must  make  my  fortune.  This  I 
speak  not  as  though  I  feared  my  father  Bainsford's 
care  of  you,  or  his  means  to  provide  for  you  ;  for  he 
hath  been  with  me,  and  I  perceive  in  him  a  loving  and 
industrious  care  to  give  you  contentment,  so,  I  see  in 
his  business  a  happy  and  considerable  forwardness. 
In  the  meantime,  good  mother,  take  heed  that  no 
sorrow  nor  dejection  in  your  heart  interrupt  or 
disappoint  God's  purpose  in  you ;  His  purpose  is  to 


118  LIFE  OF   JOHN  DONNE 

remove  out  of  your  heart  all  such  love  of  this  world's 
happiness  as  might  put  Him  out  of  possession  of  it. 
He  will  have  you  entirely,  and  as  God  is  comfort 
enough,  so  He  is  inheritance  enough.  Join  with  God 
and  make  His  visitations  and  afflictions  as  He  intended 
them,  mercies  and  comforts.  And  for  God's  sake 
pardon  those  negligences  which  I  have  heretofore  used 
towards  you ;  and  assist  me  with  your  blessing  to  me, 
and  all  mine ;  and  with  your  prayers  to  our  blessed 
Saviour,  that  thereby  both  my  mind  and  fortune  may 
be  apt  to  do  all  my  duties,  especially  those  that  belong 
to  you. 

"  God,  whose  omnipotent  strength  can  change  the 
nature  of  anything  by  His  raising-spirit  of  comfort, 
make  your  poverty  riches,  your  afflictions  pleasure,  and 
all  the  gall  and  wormwood  of  your  life  honey  and 
manna  to  your  taste  which  He  hath  wrought  when 
soever  you  are  willing  to  have  it  so.  Which,  because  I 
cannot  doubt  in  you,  I  will  forbear  more  lines  at  this 
time,  and  most  humbly  deliver  myself  over  to  your 
devotions  and  good  opinion  of  me,  which  I  desire  no 
longer  to  live  than  I  may  have." 

Only  fourteen  sermons  preached  at  Lincoln's  Inn 
have  come  down  to  us.  They  were  probably  those 
which  Donne  himself  prepared  for  the  press  before  his 
death,  thinking  them  such  as  were  worth  preserving 
and  handing  down  to  posterity. 

Donne  was  no  mere  rhetorician — he  practised  none 

\    .   of  those  arts  which  charm  the  multitude.      Even  at 

\  |\  St.  Dunstan's,  in  his  fully-written  sermons,  he  seems 

,[.<  to  be  always  addressing  himself  to  men  of  thought, 

refinement,  and  culture.     These  were  the  men  among 


LINCOLN'S  INN  DAYS  119 

whom  he  had  lived  from  his  boyhood ;  he  knew  them 
well,  their  weaknesses,  their  temptations,  their  vices, 
their  regrets,  their  rivalries,  their  ambitions ;  he  had 
lived  in  sympathy  with  those  who  had  been  dis 
appointed,  and  those  who  had  gone  astray,  and  those 
who  had  the  battle  to  fight  in  the  upper  walks  of 
social  life,  and  he  knew  that  among  them  too  there 
were  souls  saddened  by  a  sense  of  sin,  troubled  by 
doubts  and  questionings,  finding  it  very  hard  to  be 
pure  and  true ;  and  yet  there  were  among  them  many 
who  were  stretching  forth  lame  hands  of  faith,  and 
seeking  after  a  closer  walk  with  God  in  circumstances 
from  which  they  could  not  hope  to  escape,  and  under 
the  pressure  of  which  to  live  the  higher  life  was 
very,  very  hard.  It  was  to  these,  and  such  as  these, 
that  Donne's  earlier  sermons  are  addressed ;  he  never 
tried  to  preach  down  to  his  congregation — the  greatest 
of  all  mistakes  for  any  man  to  make  who  hopes  to 
raise  others.  Sometimes,  but  not  often,  Donne 
rather  falls  into  the  other  extreme  of  seeming  to 
apologise  for  taking  too  high  a  stand.  But  at  Lincoln's 
Inn  he  is  always  direct,  outspoken,  fearless,  and  his 
words  must  have  come  home  to  many  who  heard  him. 
Take  the  following  as  a  specimen  of  his  most  familiar 
manner : — 

"  I  am  not  all  here.  I  am  here  now  preaching  upon 
this  text ;  and  I  am  at  home  in  my  library  consider 
ing  whether  St.  Gregory,  or  St.  Hierome,  have  said  best 
of  this  text  before.  I  am  here  speaking  to  you,  and 
yet  I  consider  by  the  way,  in  the  same  instant  what 
it  is  likely  you  will  say  to  one  another,  when  I  have 
done.  You  are  not  all  here  neither,  you  are  here  now, 
hearing  me,  and  yet  you  are  thinking  that  you  have 


120  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

heard  a  better  sermon,  somewhere  else  on  this  text 
before.  You  are  here,  and  yet  you  think  you  could 
have  heard  some  other  doctrine  of  downright  predesti 
nation,  and  reprobation  roundly  delivered  somewhere 
else  with  more  edification  to  you.  You  are  here,  and 
you  remember  yourselves  that  now  ye  think  of  it,  this 
had  been  the  fittest  time — now  when  everybody  else  is 
at  church,  to  have  made  such  and  such  a  private  visit, 
and  because  you  would  be  there  you  are  there." 

Here  is  another  characteristic  passage — 

"  The  whole  need  not  a  physician,  but  the  sick  do. 
If  you  mistake  yourself  to  be  well,  or  think  you  have 
physic  enough  at  home,  knowledge  enough,  divinity 
enough,  to  save  you  without  us,  you  need  no  physician, 
that  is  a  physician  can  do  you  no  good,  but  then  is 
this  God's  physic,  and  God's  physician  welcome  unto 
you  if  you  become  to  a  remorseful  sense,  and  to  an 
humble  and  penitent  acknowledgment  that  you  are 
sick,  and  that  there  is  no  soundness  in  your  flesh 
because  of  His  anger,  nor  any  rest  in  your  bones, 
because  of  your  sins,  till  you  turn  upon  Him  in  whom 
this  anger  is  appeased,  and  in  whom  these  sins  are 
forgiven,  the  Son  of  His  love,  the  Son  of  His  right 
hand,  at  His  right  hand  Christ  Jesus." 

The  following  affords  a  good  example  of  Donne's 
more  conversational  style  : — 

"  But  whilst  we  are  in  the  consideration  of  this 
arch,  this  roof  of  separation,  between  God  and  us,  by 
sin,  there  may  be  use  in  imparting  to  you  an  observa 
tion,  a  passage  of  mine  own. 

"  Lying  at  Aix,  at  Aquisgrane,  a  well-known  town  in 
Germany,  and  fixing  there  some  time  for  the  benefit  of 


LINCOLN'S  INN  DAYS  121 

those  baths,  I  found  myself  in  a  house  which  was  divided 
into  many  families,  and  indeed  so  large  as  it  might 
have  been  a  little  parish,  or  at  least  a  great  limb  of  a 
great  one ;  but  it  was  of  no  parish,  for  when  I  asked 
who  lay  over  my  head,  they  told  me  a  family  of  Ana 
baptists.  And  who  over  theirs  ?  Another  family  of 
Anabaptists ;  and  another  family  of  Anabaptists  over 
theirs,  and  the  whole  house  was  a  nest  of  these  boxes, 
several  artificers,  all  Anabaptists.  I  asked  in  what 
room  they  met  for  the  exercise  of  their  religion,  I 
was  told  they  never  met,  for  though  they  were  all 
Anabaptists,  yet  for  some  collateral  differences,  they 
detested  one  another,  and  though  many  of  them  were 
near  in  blood  and  alliance  to  one  another,  yet  the 
son  would  excommunicate  the  father  in  the  room 
above  him,  and  the  nephew  the  uncle.  As  St.  John 
is  said  to  have  quitted  that  bath  into  which  Cerinthus 
the  heretic  came,  so  did  I  this  house.  I  remember 
that  Hezekiah  in  his  sickness  turned  himself  in  his 
bed  to  pray  to  that  wall  that  looked  to  Jerusalem, 
and  that  Daniel  in  Babylon,  when  he  prayed  in  his 
chamber,  opened  those  windows  that  looked  towards 
Jerusalem ;  for  in  the  first  dedication  of  the  temple 
at  Jerusalem  there  is  a  promise  annexed  to  the 
prayers  made  towards  the  temple,  and  I  began  to 
think  how  many  roofs,  how  many  floors  of  separation, 
were  made  between  God  and  my  prayers  in  that 
house.  And  such  is  this  multiplicity  of  sins  which 
we  consider  to  be  got  over  us  as  a  roof,  as  an  arch ; 
many  arches,  many  roofs ;  for  though  these  habitual 
sins  be  so  of  kin,  as  that  they  grow  from  one 
another,  and  yet  for  all  this  kindred  excommunicate 
one  another  (for  covetousness  will  not  be  in  the  same 


122  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

room  with  prodigality),  yet  it  is  but  going  up  another 
stair,  and  there  is  the  other  Anabaptist ;  it  is  but 
living  a  few  years  and  then  the  prodigal  becomes 
covetous.  All  the  way  they  separate  us  from  God  as 
a  roof,  as  an  arch,  and  then  an  arch  will  bear  any 
weight,  an  habitual  sin  got  over  our  head  as  an  arch 
will  stand  under  any  sickness,  any  dishonour,  any  judg 
ment  of  God,  and  never  sink  towards  any  humiliation." 

It  was  not  long  after  his  appointment  to  the 
Eeadership  at  Lincoln's  Inn  that  Donne's  sermons 
began  to  attract  notice,  and  he  soon  became  recognised 
as  a  great  preacher. 

When  James  i.  started  on  his  memorable  "  Pro 
gress"  to  Scotland  on  the  15th  March  1617,  he 
appears  to  have  ordered  that  Donne  should  preach 
at  Paul's  Cross  on  the  24th  March,  the  anniversary 
of  his  coming  to  the  crown.  There  was  a  great 
gathering  of  "  the  Lords  of  the  Council  and  other 
honourable  persons,"  including  the  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury  (Abbot),  Lord  Bacon  (who  had  been 
recently  made  Lord  Keeper),  the  Lord  Privy  Seal, 
secretary  Winwood,  and  "  divers  other  great  men," 
including  Donne's  fast  friend,  Sir  Julius  Caesar,  Master 
of  the  Eolls,  and  Lord  Hay.  It  was  Donne's  first 
appearance  in  the  famous  metropolitan  pulpit,  and 
he  showed  himself  worthy  of  the  occasion.  One  who 
was  present  writes  that  "  Dr.  Donne  made  them  a 
dainty  sermon  upon  Proverbs  xxii.  11:  'He  that  lovetli 
pureness  of  heart,  for  the  grace  of  his  lips  the  "king 
shall  "be  his  friend ; '  and  was  exceedingly  liked  generally 
(i.e.  by  all),  the  rather  that  he  did  Queen  Elizabeth 
right,  and  held  himself  close  to  the  text  without 
flattering  the  time  too  much."  "  The  dainty  sermon  " 


LINCOLN'S  INN  DAYS  123 

scarcely  expresses  adequately  the  real  loftiness  of 
tone  and  earnestness  which  characterise  it.  It  must 
have  taken  more  than  an  hour  to  deliver,  for  it  is 
very  long.  Here  is  the  passage  concerning  Queen 
Elizabeth  referred  to — a  passage  which,  in  that  age  of 
adulation  when  courtiers  were  shy  of  doing  honour  to 
the  great  queen,  must  have  seemed  to  many  almost 
an  instance  of  audacious  outspokenness. 

"In  the  death  of  that  queen,  unmatchable,  inimit 
able  in  her  sex,  we  were  all  under  one  common  flood 
and  depth  of  tears  ...  Of  her  we  may  say,  nihil 
liumile  aut  abjedum  cogitamt  quid  novit  de  se  semper 
loquendum.  She  Jcneiv  the  world  would  talk  of  her 
after  her  death,  and  therefore  she  did  such  things  all 
her  life  as  were  worthy  to  be  talked  of.  Of  her 
glorious  successor  and  our  gracious  sovereign  we  may 
say  it  would  have  troubled  any  king  but  him  to 
have  come  in  succession  and  in  comparison  with  such 
a  queen." 

Donne  was  now  a  prosperous  man ;  but  during  this 
year,  1C  17,  and  less  than  three  years  after  his  ordina 
tion,  a  great  sorrow  came  upon  him.  His  much-loved 
wife  died  on  the  15th  August,  seven  days  after  the 
birth  of  her  twelfth  child.  She  was  in  her  thirty- 
sixth  year,  Donne  in  his  forty-fourth, — of  her  children 
seven  survived  her.  In  the  first  agony  of  his  grief  he 
gave  his  children  an  assurance  that  he  would  never 
marry  again,  and  this  when  his  eldest  child  was  only 
fourteen  and  his  youngest  an  infant  in  arms.  The 
promise  was  a  rash  one.  It  would  perhaps  have  been 
better  for  him,  and  better  for  them,  if  it  had  never 
been  made. 

Mrs.   Donne    was    buried    in    St,    Clement   Danes 


124  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

Church,  where  a  monument  was  erected  in  the  chancel 
to  her  memory,  with  an  elaborate  inscription  which 
her  husband  himself  composed.  The  old  church  has 
been  rebuilt,  and  the  monument  has  long  since 
perished ;  the  inscription  has  been  preserved  by  the 
accident  that  Donne  submitted  it  for  approval  to  Sir 
George  More,  and  it  is  still  to  be  found  among  the 
muniments  at  Losely. 

The  story  that  Donne  preached  a  funeral  sermon 
upon  his  wife  in  St.  Clement's  Church,  upon  the  text, 
Lamentations  iii.  1,  is  a  fable.  He  did  preach  a 
beautiful  sermon  upon  this  text  some  ten  years  later, 
which  is  to  be  found  among  his  printed  works,  but  it 
is  nothing  like  a  funeral  sermon,  and  it  was  preached 
at  St.  Dunstan's  Church,  to  which  he  was  only  in 
stituted  in  1623. 

During  the  next  two  years  we  find  Donne  frequently 
preaching  at  Whitehall,  besides  diligently  attending 
to  his  duties  at  Lincoln's  Inn.  On  the  28th  March 
1619,  being  Easter  Day,  he  was  called  upon  to  preach 
before  the  Lords  at  a  time  of  great  public  anxiety. 
Queen  Anne  of  Denmark  had  died  on  the  first  of  the 
month,  and  James  L,  after  taking  his  leave  of  his 
consort,  had  gone  to  Newmarket.  Here  he  had  him 
self  fallen  seriously  ill,  and  on  the  day  when  Donne 
preached  at  Whitehall  he  was  reported  to  be 
"  dangerously  sick."  It  was  not  until  the  middle  of 
April  that  the  Bishop  of  London  preached  at  St. 
Paul's,  to  give  thanks  for  the  king's  recovery. 

Just  eight  days  before  Donne  preached  to  the 
Lords  at  Whitehall,  the  Emperor  Matthias  died  sud 
denly  on  the  20th  March  1619.  He  had  become 


LINCOLN'S  INN  DAYS  125 

King  of  Bohemia,  after  the  enforced  resignation  of  the 
crown  by  his  incompetent  brother,  Eudolph  II.,  in 
May  1611;  and  on  the  death  of  that  same  brother, 
eight  months  later,  20th  January  1612,  he  was 
elected  to  succeed  him  as  emperor.  Neither  of  the 
brothers  had  any  legitimate  offspring,  and,  in  view  of 
what  might  happen  after  his  decease,  Matthias  so 
ordered  it  that  his  kinsman,  the  Archduke  Ferdinand 
of  Styria,  should  succeed  to  the  crown  of  Bohemia,  the, 
States  consenting  to  the  arrangement  in  June  1617,  he 
himself  still  retaining  the  imperial  crown. 

The  Bohemian  nobility,  a  powerful  oligarchical 
body,  were  vehemently  Protestant.  Ferdinand,  the 
new  king,  was  an  uncompromising  and  bigoted 
Catholic.  Before  a  year  had  passed,  Bohemia  was  in 
open  revolt,  the  country  and  its  people  were  suffering 
the  horrors  of  war  when  the  Emperor  Matthias  died. 
The  crisis  was  a  very  great  one.  Could  nothing  be 
done  to  make  peace  between  Ferdinand  and  his  Bohe 
mian  subjects  ?  A  proposal  came  to  James  I.  that 
he  should  act  as  arbitrator  between  the  belligerents. 
Nothing  loth,  the  king  ordered  Lord  Hay,  now  Earl  of 
Boncaster,  to  proceed  to  Germany  as  his  Ambassador 
Extraordinary,  with  instructions  which  were  of  the 
vaguest  kind.  "And  by  special  command  of  His 
Majesty,  Dr.  Donne  was  appointed  to  assist  and  attend 
that  employment  to  the  Princes  of  the  Union."  1 

Ostensibly,  Donne  went  as  his  noble  friend's  chap 
lain,  and  before  he  set  out  upon  his  travels  he  preached 

1  The  German  Princes  at  this  time  were  divided  by  their  religious 
differences  into  two  hostile  parties— the  Catholic  League,  of  which 
Ferdinand  was  the  head,  and  the  Protestant  Union,  under  Frederick 
the  Elector  Palatine  as  president. 


126  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

what  he  calls  "  a  sermon  of  valediction  at  my  going 
into  Germany,"  at  Lincoln's  Inn,  on  the  text,  "  Ee- 
member  now  thy  Creator  in  the  days  of  thy  youth  " 
(Eccles.  xii.  1),  in  which  the  preacher  closed  with  the 
following  beautiful  and  pathetic  exordium  : — 

"  Now  to  make  up  a  circle,  by  returning  to  our  first 
word,  remember:  as  we  remember  God,  so  for  His 
sake,  let  us  remember  one  another.  In  my  long 
absence,  and  far  distance  from  hence,  remember  me, 
as  I  shall  do  you  .  .  .  remember  my  labours  and 
endeavours,  at  least  my  desire,  to  make  sure  your 
salvation.  And  I  shall  remember  your  religious 
cheerfulness  in  hearing  the  word,  and  your  christianly 
respect  towards  all  them  that  bring  that  word  unto 
you,  and  towards  myself  in  particular  far  above  my 
merit.  And  so  as  your  eyes  that  stay  here,  and  mine 
that  must  be  far  off,  for  all  that  distance  shall  meet 
every  morning,  in  looking  upon  that  same  sun,  and 
meet  every  night,  in  looking  upon  the  same  moon ;  so 
our  hearts  may  meet  morning  and  evening  in  that 
God,  which  sees  and  hears  everywhere ;  that  you  may 
come  thither  to  Him  with  your  prayers,  that  I  (if  I 
may  be  of  use  for  His  glory,  and  your  edification  in  this 
place)  may  be  restored  to  you  again ;  and  may  come 
to  Him  with  my  prayer,  that  what  Paul  soever  plant 
amongst  you,  or  what  Apollos  soever  water,  God  Him 
self  will  give  the  increase :  that  if  I  never  meet  you 
again  till  we  have  all  passed  the  gate  of  death,  yet  in 
the  gates  of  heaven,  I  may  meet  you  all,  and  there  say 
to  my  Saviour  and  your  Saviour,  that  which  He  said  to 
His  Father  and  our  Father,  Of  those  whom  tliou  hast 
given  me,  have  I  not  lost  one.  Remember  me  thus,  you 
that  stay  in  this  kingdom  of  peace,  where  no  sword  is 


LINCOLN'S  INN  DAYS  127 

drawn,  but  the  sword  of  justice,  as  I  shall  remember 
you  in  those  kingdoms,  where  ambition  on  one  side, 
and  a  necessary  defence  from  unjust  persecution  on 
the  other  side  hath  drawn  many  swords  ;  and  Christ 
Jesus  remember  us  all  in  His  kingdom  .  .  .  where  we 
shall  be  all  soldiers  of  one  army,  the  Lord  of  hosts, 
and  children  of  one  choir,  the  God  of  harmony  and 
consent ;  where  all  clients  shall  retain  but  one  coun 
sellor,  our  advocate  Christ  Jesus ;  .  .  .  where  we  shall 
end,  and  yet  begin  but  then ;  where  we  shall  have 
continual  rest,  and  yet  never  grow  lazy;  where  we 
shall  be  stronger  to  resist,  and  yet  have  no  enemy ; 
where  we  shall  live  and  never  die,  where  we  shall 
meet  and  never  part." 

The  sermon  was  preached  on  the  18th  of  April, 
and  on  the  12th  May  Doncaster  and  his  retinue  set 
out  on  their  journey,  and  arrived  early  in  June  at 
Heidelberg,  the  palace  of  the  Elector  Palatine  Frede 
rick  and  his  wife  Elizabeth,  daughter  of  James  i. 
Six  years  before  this  these  two  illustrious  personages 
had  been  married  at  Whitehall,  and  Donne  had  written 
the  marriage  song;1  they  were  both  nearly  of  the  same 
age,  each  being  now  twenty-two  years  old.  Since 
that  brilliant  wedding-day,  in  February  1613,  their 
lives  had  been  passed  in  one  continual  round  of  gaiety 
and  amusement.  The  young  Palsgrave,  as  he  was 
usually  called  in  England,  had  learned  very  little : 
dreaming  of  greatness,  he  had  not  been  preparing 
himself  to  achieve  it.  A  young  man  of  restless  ambi 
tion  far  beyond  his  ability,  he  was  certain  to  prove  a 
failure  in  the  day  of  trial ;  and  that  day  was  very  near 
at  hand.  During  those  six  years  Donne  had  greatly 

1  Sec  p.  83. 


128  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

changed  and  greatly  grown ;  the  young  princess  may 
have  remembered  him  as  a  courtier  high  in  favour 
with  the  nobility,  writing  verses  to  order,  graceful  and 
gay,  whom  her  royal  father  had  pressed  to  enter  into 
the  Christian  ministry,  and  had  obeyed  only  when  all 
other  avenues  to  advancement  had  been  barred.  She 
found  him  now  a  profoundly  serious  and  earnest 
divine,  who  already  had  come  to  be  regarded  as  one 
of  the  greatest  preachers  of  his  time.  He  had  not 
been  many  days  at  Heidelberg  before  he  was  invited 
to  preach  before  the  Prince  and  Princess  Palatine. 

The  Princess  Elizabeth  appears  to  have  been  greatly 
struck  by  the  sermons  (for  there  were  two,  though 
only  one  has  been  preserved),  and  from  this  time  con 
ceived  a  high  regard  for  Donne,  and,  in  a  letter  which 
she  wrote  to  him  four  years  later,  she  says,  "  The  hear 
ing  of  you  deliver,  as  you  call  them,  the  messages  of 
God  unto  me  ...  truly  I  never  did  but  with  delight, 
and  I  hope  some  measure  of  edification." 

The  stay  at  Heidelberg  was  short.  Doncaster  soon 
began  to  suspect  that  his  mission  to  Germany  was 
not  likely  to  be  successful.  Ferdinand  was  chosen 
emperor  on  the  18th  of  August,  and  had  hardly 
heard  of  his  election  before  the  amazing  intelligence 
reached  him  that,  two  days  before,  the  Bohemian 
magnates  had  solemnly  deposed  him  from  being  king, 
and  had  offered  his  crown  to  Frederick,  the  Palsgrave. 

Frederick  hesitated  for  about  a  month  before  accept 
ing  the  kingdom.  At  last  he  assented,  and  in  October 
he  set  out  for  Prague  for  his  coronation,  which,  alas  ! 
was  but  the  beginning  of  his  humiliation,  and  all  the 
long  horrors  of  the  Thirty  Years'  War.  Doncaster's 
wanderings  during  the  next  five  months  are  difficult  to 


LINCOLN  S  INN  DAYS  129 

follow,  but  on  the  19th  December  he  was  at  the 
Hague,  where  the  States  General  presented  Donne  with 
the  gold  medal  that  had  been  struck  as  a  memorial 
of  the  famous  and  futile  Synod  of  Dort,  which  had 
recently  dispersed. 

At  the  Hague,  Donne  (apparently  with  but  short 
warning)  was  called  upon  to  preach  before  the  Court 
and  the  States  General  that  sermon  which  he  ex 
panded  into  two  during  his  last  illness. 

Lord  Doncaster  returned  to  England  with  his 
retinue  during  the  first  week  of  1620.  Donne  had 
derived  much  benefit  from  his  eight  months'  absence, 
and  during  the  spring  he  preached  more  than  once  at 
Whitehall ;  his  ordinary  duties  at  Lincoln's  Inn  being 
resumed  as  before  his  absence.  We  know  very  little 
of  his  movements  during  this  year,  1621,  except  that 
in  the  summer  he  was  disappointed  of  the  Deanery  of 
Salisbury,  which  had  fallen  vacant,  and  which  he  had 
expected  would  be  offered  to  him.  He  had  to  wait 
a  little  longer  before  receiving  any  substantial  pre 
ferment. 

On  the  26th  of  August  1621,  Cotton,  Bishop  of 
Exeter,  died,  and  a  month  later  Valentine  Carey,  Dean 
of  St.  Paul's,  was  elected  to  succeed  him. 

Then  it  seems  "  the  king  sent  to  Dr.  Donne  and 
appointed  him  to  attend  him  at  dinner  the  next  day. 
When  His  Majesty  was  sat  down,  before  he  had  eat 
any  meat,  he  said,  after  his  pleasant  manner,  '  Dr. 
Donne,  I  have  invited  you  to  dinner ;  and,  though 
you  sit  not  down  with  me,  yet  I  will  carve  to  you  of 
a  dish  that  I  know  you  love  well ;  for,  knowing  you 
love  London,  I  do  therefore  make  you  Dean  of  St. 
Paul's ;  and.  when  I  have  dined,  then  do  you  take 
9 


130  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

your  beloved  dish  home  to  your  study,  say  grace  there 
to  yourself,  and  much  good  may  it  do  you.' " 

He  did  not  actually  enter  upon  his  office  till  the 
27th  November,  as,  in  consequence  of  the  delay  which 
occurred  in  the  consecration  of  the  Bishop  of  Exeter, 
the  deanery  did  not  technically  fall  into  the  hands  of 
the  king  till  the  20th  of  the  month.  There  is  no 
reason  to  believe  that  Donne  expected  or  wished  to 
be  raised  to  the  Episcopate.  Probably,  he  had  now 
gained  the  one  piece  of  preferment  in  the  Church  of 
England  that  he  would  have  chosen  if  the  choice  had 
been  left  to  himself.  The  deanery  stood  in  the  south 
of  the  present  cathedral,  with  its  frontage  towards 
the  north,  and  its  back  gates  opening  upon  Carter 
Lane.  There  was  a  gatehouse  and  porter's  lodge  at 
either  entrance,  and  a  spacious  grass-plot  on  the  east 
side.  There  was  a  private  chapel  annexed  to  the 
house  and  flanking  the  grass-plot  on  the  southern 
side;  this  chapel  the  new  dean  at  once  set  himself  to 
repair  and  beautify.  The  expense  of  furnishing  and 
getting  into  so  large  a  mansion  was  considerable ;  and 
it  is  not  surprising  that  Donne,  at  the  end  of  his  first 
year,  wrote  to  his  friend  Sir  Henry  Goodere,  "  I  had 
locked  myself,  sealed  and  secured  myself,  against  all 
possibilities  of  falling  into  new  debts,  and,  in  good 
faith,  this  year  hath  thrown  me  £400  lower  than 
when  I  entered  this  house."  Nevertheless,  the  very 
first  occasion  after  receiving  his  preferment,  when  Sir 
George  More  offered  to  pay  the  quarterly  sum  which 
he  had  agreed  to  allow  him,  Donne  refused  to  accept 
it,  and  then  and  there  gave  him  a  release  from  the 
obligation  by  which  he  was  bound. 


CHAPTEK  VI 

THE  DEAN 

DURING  the  seven  years  that  passed  after  Donne  had 
been  admitted  to  holy  orders,  it  cannot  be  said  that 
he  had  made  much  way  in  his  profession.  A  couple 
of  benefices  given  to  him  by  personal  friends — the  I 
Preachership  at  Lincoln's  Inn,  and  the  barren  honour 
of  being  included  among  the  king's  chaplains — did  not 
amount  to  much.  His  income  during  these  years' 
was  indeed  sufficient  to  relieve  him  from  any  pressing 
anxiety ;  but,  moving  as  he  did  on  terms  of  close 
intimacy  with  the  nobility  and  the  most  eminent 
people  of  the  court  of  James  L,  his  position  brought 
with  it  many  expenses  which  were  unavoidable. 

The  deanery  had  come  only  after  years  of  waiting 
for  the  fulfilment  of  those  hopes  of  preferment  which 
the  king  had  given  his  chaplain  reason  to  expect  at 
his  hands. 

Thus  far,  it  must  be  remembered,  Donne  had  had 
few  opportunities  of  addressing  large  and  mixed 
congregations.  Lincoln's  Inn  Chapel,  was  then,  as  now, 
a  place  of  worship  for  a  select  few.  At  Whitehall 
the  nobility  and  courtiers  made  up  the  whole  audience. 
The  sermon  at  St.  Paul's,  preached  during  the  king's 
absence  in  Scotland,  had  indeed  attracted  a  great 
crowd,  and  had  been  listened  to  with  admiration  by 

131 


132  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

all ;  but,  until  his  promotion  to  the  deanery,  Donne  as 
a  preacher  may  be  said  to  have  been  little  known. 
Among  the  general  public  he  had  his  reputation  still 
to  make.  He  continued  to  hold  the  Lincoln's  Inn 
Preachership  for  some  months  after  he  was  admitted 
to  the  deanery.  Not  till  the  llth  of  February  did 
he  resign  his  office,  and,  in  doing  so,  he  presented  a 
magnificent  copy  of  the  Bible,  with  the  commentary 
of  Nicholas  de  Lyra,  in  six  volumes  folio,  printed  at 
Douai  in  1617,  as  a  token  of  gratitude  to  the  society. 
The  book  is  carefully  preserved  in  Lincoln's  Inn 
library;  and  the  inscription,  in  Donne's  own  hand 
writing,  may  still  be  read  by  those  who  are  not  above 
confessing  to  a  sentimental  interest  in  such  relics. 

In  recognition  of  this  gift  and  of  his  services  as 
preacher,  we  read  that  "  The  Masters  of  the  Bench 
acknowledging  this  and  many  other  kind  and  loving 
respects  of  the  said  Mr.  Doctor  Donne  towards  them 
.  .  .  with  one  voice  and  assent  so  ordered  that  the 
said  Mr.  Doctor  Donne  shall  continue  his  chamber  in 
this  house  which  he  now  hath,  as  a  Bemher  of  this 
house,  and  with  such  privileges  touching  the  same  as 
the  Masters  of  the  Bench  now  have,  and  ought  to 
have,  for  their  general  and  respective  chambers  in  this 
house." 

It  may,  I  think,  be  safely  affirmed  that  this  is  the 
last  instance  of  a  divine  having  been  made  a  Bencher 
of  Lincoln's  Inn,  and  that,  too,  not  only  with  an 
honorary  title,  but  with  the  substantial  advantages 
which  the  office  confers. 

Then,  as  now,  the  Chapter  of  St.  Paul's  consisted  of 
thirty  prebendaries,  of  whom  the  dean  was  one,  and 


THE  DEAN  133 

each  of  them  had  certain  prescribed  duties  to  perform. 
Among  the  prebendaries  were  more  than  one  man  of 
academic  reputation  with  a  career  before  him.  Such 
were  John  Bancroft,  afterwards  Bishop  of  Oxford,  and 
William  Pierse,  promoted  to  the  Bishopric  of  Peter 
borough  the  year  before  Donne  died ;  Dr.  Thomas 
Winniffe,  who  succeeded  Donne  in  the  deanery,  and 
afterwards  became  Bishop  of  Lincoln;  and  the  brothers 
John  and  Henry  King,  sons  of  John  King,  Bishop  of 
Loncton,  who  had  been  chaplain  to  the  Lord  Keeper 
Ellesmere  when  Donne  had  been  his  secretary.  The 
only  two  members  of  the  Chapter,  nevertheless,  who 
appear  to  have  had  any  gift  of  preaching,  were  Dr. 
Winniffe  and  Henry  Mason,  rector  of  St.  Mary's  Under- 
shaft  London,  of  whose  "edifying  and  judicious  preach 
ing  "  Wood  speaks  in  high  terms.  He  had  been  chaplain 
to  Bishop  King  of  London,  by  whom,  too,  he  had  been 
collated  to  his  stall.  The  bishop's  two  sons  had  been 
presented  to  their  several  prebends  by  their  father  in 
161 6 — Henry,  the  elder,  in  January ;  John,  the  younger, 
in  December ;  the  one  in  his  twenty-fourth,  the  other 
in  his  twenty-second  year.  They  were  both  young 
men  of  conspicuous  ability.  Henry  was  a  poet,  whose 
sweet  verses  are  read  with  delight  by  many  even  now, 
— a  man  of  letters  and  many  accomplishments.  John 
was  a  young  scholar  of  promise,  who  became  public 
orator  to  the  University  of  Oxford  at  the  time  that 
George  Herbert  held  the  same  honourable  office  at 
Cambridge ;  Donne  had  known  them  both  from  their 
childhood.  The  younger  brother  was  little  heard  of 
in  London ;  he  was  a  brilliant  scholar,  and  his  heart 
was  at  Oxford.  The  elder,  Henry,  besides  being  pre 
bendary  at  St.  Paul's,  was  collated  by  his  father  to 


134  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

the  Archdeaconry  of  Colchester  in  1617;  and  with 
the  Kectory  of  Chigwell  he  also  held  the  office  of 
Penitentiary  in  the  cathedral,  His  preferments  re 
quired  that  he  should  reside  during  the  greater  part 
of  the  year  in  London,  and  Walton  calls  him  the 
"  Chief  Eesidentiary  of  St.  Paul's."  Donne  appears 
always  to  have  had  an  affectionate  regard  for  Henry 
King — an  affection  which  was  cordially  reciprocated 
by  the  younger  man ;  and  in  his  will  Donne  appointed 
him  one  of  his  executors,  as  we  shall  see  later  on.  As 
for  Dr.  Valentine  Gary,  who  had  vacated  the  Deanery 
of  St.  Paul's  for  the  Bishopric  of  Exeter,  he  had  the 
reputation  of  being  a  past  master  in  the  art  of 
"  getting  on."  An  eminently  safe  man,  he  had  never 
committed  himself  to  the  writing  of  books,  and  as  a 
preacher  of  sermons  he  was  unknown.  It  is  true  that 
the  famous  pulpit  at  Paul's  Cross  still  continued  to  be 
served  occasionally  by  ambitious,  earnest,  and  eloquent 
preachers  from  the  country — men  eager  to  get  a  hear 
ing  and  make  a  sensation  before  a  London  audience  ; 
but  the  ordinary  sermons  delivered  in  rotation  by  the 
prebendaries  taking  their  turns  in  the  cathedral  pulpit 
must  have  been,  as  a  rule,  very  perfunctory  perform 
ances.  The  preachers  who  had  the  ear  of  the  London 
citizens  were  by  no  means  the  cathedral  dignitaries, 
but  the  men  of  a  lower  social  standing,  though  not 
necessarily  of  less  learning  or  less  worth  listening  to, 
the  lecturers  whose  congregations  supported  them, — 
the  holders  of  small  benefices  which  barely  afforded 
them  a  livelihood, — the  Puritans,  as  they  were  called, 
\  which  was  a  term  of  reproach  vaguely  applied  to  such 
;\  as  were  conspicuous  less  for  strict  orthodoxy  than  for 
'  fervour,  fluency,  and  passionate  eloquence.  As  a  class, 


THE  DEAN  135 

these  clergy  were  not  too  loyal  to  the  ecclesiastical 
status  quo.  They  had  very  little  to  thank,  and  very 
little  to  hope  from,  the  powers  that  be  in  Church  and 
State.  Some  of  them  were  more  zealous  than  discreet, 
more  vehement  than  prudent,  and  the  neglect  which 
they  suffered  at  the  hands  of  "  people  of  importance  " 
often  irritated  and  soured  their  friends  and  admirers 
perhaps  more  than  it  did  themselves.  In  so  far  as  it 
did  so,  however,  their  influence  undoubtedly  tended  to 
make  a  party  of  opposition  in  the  Church,  which  sooner 
or  later  was  likely  to  become  a  formidable  minority, 
and  indeed  something  more. 

Archbishop  Abbot's  sympathies  were  almost  wholly 
in  favour  of  the  Puritan  clergy,  and  in  the  universities 
they  had  their  leaders  and  representatives,  who  were 
increasing  in  numbers  from  year  to  year. 

There  can  be  no  greater  mistake  than  to  look  upon 
the  Puritan  clergy  as  schismatics ;  they  were  no  more 
inclined  that  way  than  John  Wesley  was  in  the  last 
century,  or  than  the  Low  Church  party,  who  loved  to 
preach  in  the  black  gown,  or  the  Tractarians,  who 
battled  for  the  eastward  position  in  our  own  day,  were, 
or  are,  inclined  to  separate  from  our  communion. 
Intolerant  partisans  on  this  side  or  the  other  in 
vented  some  odious  name  for  such  as  were  not  of 
their  own  way  of  thinking ;  and  it  has  always  answered 
the  purpose  of  such  as  are  fighting  for  no  nobler 
cause  than  the  supremacy  of  their  own  views,  in 
politics  or  religion,  to  call  their  opponents  Simeonites 
or  Puseyites  in  the  one  case,  and  Whigs  or  Tories  in 
the  other.  Would  God  that  the  spirit  of  faction  could 
have  been  kept  out  of  the  Church  of  Christ !  Alas  ! 
from  the  very  beginning  it  has  shown  itself,  ever 


136  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

since  one  said,  I  am  of  Paul,  and  another,  I  am  of 
Apollos  ! 

The  new  Dean  of  St.  Paul's  was  as  far  from  sym 
pathising  with  this  narrowness  as  in  those  days  a  man 
could  well  be.  He  had  by  God's  help  found  deliver 
ance  from  the  thraldom  of  the  Koman  tyranny  as 
formulated  in  the  Tridentine  decrees,  but  he  was  not 
the  man  to  oscillate  from  extreme  to  extreme,  and  to 
find  no  resting-place  save  in  one  or  the  other.  He 
had  his  spiritual  conflicts,  and  he  had  passed  through 
an  experience  such  as  shallow  natures  can  hardly  be 
expected  to  understand.  He  could  never  rest  till  he 
got  to  some  firm  basis  of  belief,  before  he  adopted  any 
opinion  as  his  own ;  he  had  a  boundless  sympathy  for 
the  errors  and  the  weaknesses  of  others ;  he  had  the 
rare  gift  of  living  by  great  principles,  not  by  mere 
hard-and-fast  rules,  the  poet's  wealth  of  illustration 
and  play  of  fancy,  and  the  voice  and  readiness  of 
speech  of  the  orator.  Add  to  this  the  extraordinary 
personal  beauty  and  resistless  grace  of  manner  which 
more  than  one  of  his  contemporaries  have  dwelt  upon. 
"  A  preacher  in  earnest,"  as  Walton  says,  "  weeping 
sometimes  for  his  auditory,  sometimes  with  them ; 
always  preaching  to  himself,  like  an  angel  from  a 
cloud,  but  in  none ;  carrying  some,  as  St.  Paul  was, 
to  heaven  in  holy  raptures,  and  enticing  others  by  a 
sacred  art  and  courtship  to  amend  their  lives ;  here 
picturing  a  vice  so  as  to  make  it  ugly  to  those  that 
practised  it ;  and  a  virtue  so  as  to  make  it  beloved, 
even  by  those  that  loved  it  not ;  and  all  this  with  a 
most  particular  grace  and  an  inexpressible  addition  of 
comeliness." 

Donne's  five  years'  preaching  at  Lincoln's  Inn  had 


THE  DEAN  137 

done  a  great  deal  for  him  in  the  way  of  increasing 
his  effectiveness  as  a  pulpit  orator.  The  reading  of 
sermons  was  scarcely  tolerated  at  this  time ;  even  in 
the  university  pulpit,  where  the  practice  was  coming 
in,  James  I.  had  written  a  letter  expressing  his  dis 
approval  of  it.  In  Donne's  time,  our  English  preachers, 
on  great  occasions,  almost  universally  committed  their 
sermons  to  memory,  as  is  still  done  in  Italy,  Germany, 
France,  and  elsewhere.  When  a  man  ascended  the 
pulpit,  he  "  took  with  him  words " ;  he  was  not 
supposed  to  be  speaking  without  due  preparation ; 
but  the  habit  of  addressing  his  congregation  without 
a  manuscript  gave  a  preacher  confidence  on  the  one 
hand,  and  on  the  other  made  him  realise  the  necessity 
of  careful  previous  study  of  his  subject.  The  memory 
was  cultivated  from  the  first.  Fluency  with  the 
graces  of  distinct  delivery  were  not  disregarded ;  and 
only  he  who  really  gave  proof  of  having  something  to 
say,  and  of  having  tried  to  say  it  in  the  most 
attractive  manner,  was  designated  as  a  painful 
preacher,  that  is,  one  who  had  spent  his  best  pains 
upon  matter  and  manner. 

This  severe  and  systematic  training  on  pulpit 
oratory,  which  English  preachers  went  through  in  the 
earlier  half  of  the  seventeenth  century,  necessarily 
produced  its  effect  in  raising  the  standard  of  preach 
ing.  The  sermons  of  this  time  seem  to  us  now  to 
be  overloaded — too  long — artificial,  and  sometimes  in 
bad  taste ;  but  it  is  rare  to  find  one  without  some 
striking  passages,  some  evidence  or  parade  of  learning. 
That  they  were  listened  to  with  great  attention,  and 
often  produced  very  great  effect  upon  the  audience, 
we  know.  Frequently  the  preacher  was  interrupted 


138  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

by  expressions  of  dissent  or  by  loud  applause.  More 
than  once  Donne  takes  notice  of  this,  reproving  it  as 
a  modern  practice  which  had  but  lately  come  into 
vogue,  though,  as  he  points  out,  it  had  been  common 
in  the  fourth  century,  when  Chrysostom  preached  at 
Constantinople,  and  Augustine  at  Hippo. 

"  Truly,"  he  says  in  one  of  his  St.  Paul's  sermons, 
"  we  come  too  near  reinducing  this  vainglorious  fashion, 
in  those  often  periodical  murmurings  and  noises 
which  you  make  when  the  preacher  concludes  any 
point.  For  those  impertinent  interjections  swallow 
up  one  quarter  of  his  hour ;  and  many  that  were  not 
within  distance  of  hearing  the  sermon  will  give  a 
censure  upon  it,  according  to  the  frequency  or  paucity 
of  these  acclamations. 

"  These  fashions  then,  howsoever,  in  those  times, 
they  might  be  testimonies  of  zeal,  yet  because  they 
occasion  vainglory  and  many  times  faction,  .  .  . 
we  desire  not,  willingly  we  admit  not.  We  come  in 
Christ's  stead.  Christ,  at  His  coming,  met  Hosannas 
and  Crucifiges.  A  preacher  may  be  applauded  in  the 
pulpit  and  crucified  in  his  turn." 

It  is  very  unlikely  that  the  congregation  in  Lincoln's 
Inn  Chapel,  accustomed  as  they  were  to  the  serious 
ness  and  strict  discipline  of  the  law  courts,  should 
have  indulged  in  these  expressions  of  approval  or  the 
reverse ;  on  the  other  hand,  the  men  of  law  were 
severe  critics,  and  a  great  deal  was  expected  from 
their  preacher.  During  the  five  years  when  Donne 
held  the  post  he  was  responsible  for  an  aggregate 
of  between  two  or  three  hundred  sermons,  and  every 
one  of  them  stood  for  such  an  amount  of  careful 
preparation  as  represented  a  serious  mental  strain. 


THE  DEAN  139 

But  that  all  these  sermons  should  have  been  written 
out  word  for  word  and  committed  to  memory  is 
incredible ;  it  would  have  been  almost  a  physical 
impossibility.  In  one  of  his  letters  Donne  mentions 
incidentally  that  the  copying  of  one  of  his  great 
festival  sermons  took  him  eight  hours ;  and  we  know 
that  he  was  compelled,  by  the  importunity  of  his 
friends,  to  circulate  some  of  them  in  manuscript 
before  he  ventured  to  incur  the  expense  of  printing 
them.  Once,  when  replying  to  a  request  from  Sir 
Henry  Goodere  to  send  him  a  copy  of  what  appears 
to  have  been  an  occasional  sermon,  which  he  had 
delivered  some  weeks  before,  he  answers,  "  I  will 
pretermit  no  time  to  write  it  ...  though  in  good 
faith  /  have  half  forgot  it."  Of  all  the  large  number 
of  sermons  delivered  at  Lincoln's  Inn,  only  fourteen 
have  come  down  to  us.  It  is  clear  that  before  he 
was  promoted  to  the  deanery  he  must  have  become 
a  practised  extempore  preacher.  It  was  only  what 
was  to  be  expected,  that  when  he  discovered  that  he 
possessed  the  gift  of  oratory,  and  had  done  his  best 
to  cultivate  it  earnestly  and  conscientiously,  he  should 
come  to  take  a  delight  in  its  exercise;  though  for 
lazy  and  slovenly  preaching  he  had  no  toleration,  and 
more  than  once  he  lifts  up  his  voice  against  the 
preachers  who  trusted  to  the  so-called  inspiration 
of  the  moment. 

"  When  the  apostle  says,  Study  to  be  quiet,  methinks 
he  intimates  something  towards  this — that  the  less 
we  study  for  our  sermons,  the  more  danger  there  is  to 
disquiet  the  auditory.  Extemporal,  unpremeditated 
sermons,  that  serve  the  popular  ear,  vent,  for  the  most 
part,  doctrines  that  disquiet  the  Church.  Study  for 


140  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

them,  and  they  will  be  quiet.  Consider  ancient 
fundamental  doctrine,  and  this  will  quiet  and  settle 
the  understanding  and  the  conscience." 

For  himself,  every  year  as  he  grew  older,  he  seems 
to  have  found  more  and  more  joy  and  delight  in 
preaching.  Latterly,  even  when  his  constitution  was 
broken  by  frequent  illnesses  and  the  excitement  and 
exhaustion  which  his  emphatic  delivery  occasioned,  he 
confesses  to  his  friend,  Sir  Eobert  Carr,  that  his 
practice  was  to  fast  rigidly  on  his  preaching  days. 

"  This  morning  I  have  received  a  signification  from 
my  Lord  Chamberlain  that  His  Majesty  hath  com 
manded  to-morrow's  sermon  at  St.  James's ;  and  that 
it  is  in  the  afternoon — for,  into  my  mouth  there  must 
not  enter  the  word  '  after  dinner,'  because  that  day 
there  enters  no  dinner  into  my  mouth.  Towards  the 
time  of  the  service,  I  ask  your  leave  that  I  may  hide 
myself  in  your  out-chamber."  (2nd  April  1625.) 

In  another  letter,  again,  he  writes,  "...  I  do  not 
eat  before,  nor  can  after,  till  I  have  been  at  home ;  so 
much  hath  this  year's  debility  disabled  me  even  for 
receiving  favours.  After  the  sermon  I  will  steal  into 
my  coach  home,  and  pray  that  my  good  purpose  may 
be  well  accepted,  and  my  defects  graciously  pardoned." 

Five  years  later,  when  already  death-stricken,  and 
very  near  his  end,  writing  to  another  of  those  many 
friends  who  had  clung  to  him  in  close  intimacy  from 
his  youth,  he  says,  "...  I  have  been  always  more 
sorry  when  I  could  not  preach,  than  any  could  be  that 
they  could  not  hear  me.  It  hath  been  my  desire — and 
God  may  be  pleased  to  grant  it  me — that  I  might  die 
in  the  pulpit ;  if  not  that,  yet  that  I  might  take  my 
death  in  the  pulpit,  that  is,  die  the  sooner  by  occasion 


THE  DEAN  141 

of  my  former  labours."  It  can  hardly  be  doubted  that 
he  hastened  his  end  by  preaching  when  he  was  physi 
cally  quite  unfit  for  such  exertion ;  but  life  was,  to 
his  thinking,  valueless  when  the  privilege  of  delivering 
his  Master's  message  to  sinful  men  was  denied  him. 
And  so,  as  Walton  beautifully  says,  "  his  speech,  which 
had  long  been  his  ready  and  faithful  servant,  left  him 
not  till  the  last  minute  of  his  life,  and  then  forsook 
him,  not  to  serve  another  master — for  who  speaks 
like  him  ? — but  died  before  him  ;  for  that  it  was  then 
become  useless  to  him  that  now  conversed  with  God 
on  earth,  as  angels  are  said  to  do  in  heaven,  only  by 
thoughts  and  looks." 

The  duties  required  of  the  Dean  of  St.  Paul's  were 
definitely  prescribed  by  the  cathedral  statutes. 

The  Psalter  was  divided  up  among  the  thirty  pre 
bendaries,  each  of  whom  was  supposed  to  recite 
his  five  psalms  daily,  and  to  make  them  his  special 
subject  of  meditation.  Donne  took  his  place  in  the 
Chapter  as  prebendary  of  Chiswick,  and  his  five  psalms 
were  the  62nd  to  the  66th  inclusive.  As  prebendary 
he  was  required  to  preach  upon  the  Monday  in  Whit- 
sun  week.  As  dean  he  preached  on  Christmas  Day, 
Easter  Sunday,  and  Whit  Sunday.  Every  one  of  the 
Easter  sermons  have  been  preserved,  and  are  to  be 
found  in  the  printed  volumes ;  so  are  all  those  which 
he  delivered  on  Whit  Sunday.  Twice,  owing  to  severe 
illness,  he  was  unable  to  preach  on  Christmas  Day  ;  but 
the  eight  Christmas  sermons  that  he  did  deliver  at  St.  / 
Paul's  are  among  the  most  carefully  thought  out  and 
most  eloquent  of  any  that  have  survived. 

The  same  may  be  said  of  the  five  prebend  sermons 


142  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

delivered  on  his  allotted  psalms.  On  the  great 
festivals  he  did  not  spare  himself ;  and  on  these 
important  occasions,  when  large  congregations  came 
expecting  much  from  the  great  preacher,  "he  never 
sent  them  empty  away. 

His  first  appearance  in  the  pulpit  of  St.  Paul's  as 
dean  was  on  Christmas  Day  1621.  The  sermon  is 
unlike  any  of  those  which  he  had  preached  at  Lincoln's 
Inn  or  at  the  court.  It  is  marked  by  an  almost 
entire  absence  of  learned  quotations  or  allusions.  It 
is  studiously  direct,  practical,  and  homely ;  and  though 
the  structure  and  analysis  of  the  composition  is  as 
minute  as  he  could  not  help  making  it,  this  sermon  is 
marked  by  such  simplicity  of  diction  and  illustration 
as  makes  it  apparent  that  the  preacher  was  thinking 
of  his  congregation  and  not  of  himself,  seeking  to 
reach  their  hearts  and  consciences,  with  never  a  thought 
of  merely  winning  their  admiration  and  applause. 

Though  no  word  has  reached  us  of  the  reception 
which  Donne  met  with  on  his  first  appearance  as 
dean,  yet  there  are  abundant  indications  that  his  first 
sermon  made  a  great  impression.  Certainly,  in  no  one 
year  was  he  applied  to  so  frequently  to  address  large 
audiences  as  in  1622. 

No  fewer  than  twelve  of  his  most  important 
sermons,  delivered  during  this  year,  have  been  pre 
served.  Unequal  in  merit,  they  are  yet  all  character 
ised  by  an  almost  excessive  elaboration,  as  if  the  new 
dean  was  profoundly  convinced  of  the  responsibility 
which  his  office  had  brought  witli  it,  and  was  deter 
mined,  by  God's  help,  to  turn  to  the  utmost  account 
the  influence  which  he  had  the  opportunities  of 
exercising. 


THE  DEAN  143 


As  a  theaLogiajJr,  Donne  occupied  a  middle  position 
between  the  two  extreme  parties  among  the  clergy, 
whose    differences    were    becoming    daily    more    pro 
nounced,  and  their  attitude  more  hostile  towards  each 
other.     On  the  burning  questions  of  the  ceremonies  and 
the  sacraments,  he  was  emphatically  a  High  Church 
man,  outspoken,  uncompromising,  definite,  though  gentle, 
sympathetic,  and  animated  by  a  large-hearted  tolerance. 
But  in  his  treatment  of  Holy  Scriptures  no  Puritan 
of  them  all  insisted  more  frequently  upon  the  inspira 
tion  of  every  syllable  in  the  Old  Testament  and  the 
New.     With  far  less  of  that  trifling  with  his  hearers, 
which  is  too  frequently  the  blemish  in  Bishop  Andrewes' 
sermons,  Donne's  interpretations  occasionally  startle  us 
by  their  grotesqueness ;  they  are  the  outcome  of  his 
almost  superstitious  bibliolatry,  if  this  modern  phrase 
may  be  allowed.     It  was  this,  however,  which  gained 
for  him  the  ear  of  the  trading  classes,  and  the  con 
fidence  and  popularity  which  never  left  him.      Both 
parties    in   the   Church   claimed   him    as    their   own. 
Abbot,    the    Puritan   primate,    trusted    and    admired 
him ;  Andrewes  loved  him  as  a  friend ;  Laud  would 
have  recognised  him,  with  some  reservations,  as  one  of 
his    most  orthodox  supporters.     It   was    this    many- 
sidedness  that  attracted  the  thoughtful  and  devout  to 
listen  to  the  message  he  came  to  deliver.     He  spoke 
like  one  who  had  studied  and  prayed  out  the  con 
clusions  he  arrived  at ;    men   felt    they   could  leave 
themselves  in  the  hands  of  the  new  preacher,  who  was 
no  partisan.     Three  of  Donne's  sermons  during  this 
year,  1622,  preached  on  occasions  of  some  historical 
interest,  deserve  rather  more  than  a  passing  mention. 
1.  In  the  summer    of   1621,  Henry  Percy,  ninth 


144  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

Earl  of  Northumberland  (who,  it  may  be  remembered,1 
had  gone  out  of  his  way  to  intercede  with  Sir  George 
More  on  the  occasion  of  Donne's  clandestine  marriage), 
was  released  from  the  Tower,  after  an  imprisonment 
of  nearly  sixteen  years,  through  the*  intercession  of 
Donne's  friend,  Lord  Hay,  now  Viscount  Doncaster, 
Doncaster  had  married  the  earl's  beautiful  and  very 
accomplished  daughter  Lucy,  without  her  father's 
consent,  and  during  the  time  of  his  imprisonment. 
The  king  had  favoured  the  match.  The  earl  was 
strongly  averse  to  it,  and  hated  Doncaster,  whom  he 
affected  to  regard  as  a  Scotch  upstart.  Northumber 
land,  though  freed  from  the  Tower,  was  put  upon 
parole,  and  required  to  reside  at  Petworth,  or  within 
thirty  miles  of  that  centre.  It  was  an  annoying 
restriction,  and  Doncaster  did  his  best  to  get  it 
removed.  On  his  return  from  an  embassy  to  France 
in  1622,  he  made  fresh  efforts  to  gain  full  liberty 
for  the  earl,  who  about  the  middle  of  August  found 
himself  a  free  man.  But  he  had  not  yet  forgiven  his 
son-in-law;  and,  moreover,  he  had  conceived  a  bitter  dis 
like  for  the  king's  new  favourite,  Villiers,  now  Marquis 
of  Buckingham,  whose  ostentation  and  lavish  ex 
penditure  provoked  and  irritated  him.  He  regarded 
himself,  as  indeed  he  was,  as  the  representative  of 
the  old  nobility,  and  he  found  it  very  difficult  to 
acquiesce  in  the  position  (which  common  prudence 
required  that  he  should  submit  to)  of  inferior  import 
ance  to  the  new  men,  who  on  all  occasions  were 
taking  the  lead  at  court.  So  wary  and  shrewd  a 
diplomatist  as  Doncaster  saw  that  this  attitude  was 
full  of  danger.  He  himself  was  at  this  time  living 

1  Chap.  i.  p.  23. 


THE  DEAN  145 

at  Hanworth,  which  had  formerly  been  the  dower 
house  of  Queen  Katharine  Parr,  and  here  Lady 
Doncaster  was  keeping  up  a  great  establishment,  and 
indulging  in  every  kind  of  profuse  extravagance. 
Some  recognition  of  his  son-in-law's  good  offices  in 
procuring  him  his  release  from  the  Tower  could  hardly 
be  refused  now,  and  Northumberland  accepted  an  in^ 
vitation  to  Hanworth  on  the  25th  of  August,  knowing, 
of  course,  that  in  doing  so  he  would  be  signifying 
his  assent  to  the  marriage  which  he  had  originally 
opposed.  It  was  a  great  occasion.  Many  of  the 
nobility  were  assembled  to  show  their  sympathy  with 
the  earl,  and  their  satisfaction  at  his  once  more 
taking  his  place  as  head  of  the  English  aristocracy. 
Among  them  came  Buckingham  himself,  ready  to 
evince  his  cordiality,  and  having  nothing  to  lose,  and 
something  to  gain,  by  taking  part  in  the  festivities. 
On  such  an  occasion  it  was  inevitable  that  there  should 
be  a  sermon,  and  what  fitter  man  could  be  thought  of 
to  preach  it  than  the  new  Dean  of  St.  Paul's  ? 

About  a  year  before  this,  Donne,  at  the  suggestion 
of  the  king,1  had  offered  his  services  to  Villiers ;  but, 
so  far  as  we  know,  nothing  had  come  of  it,  except  that 
his  name  was  formally  presented  to  James  as  a  proper 
person  to  be  promoted  to  the  deanery. 

Donne's  sermon  at  Hanworth  was  preached  from  a 
text  that  might  almost  be  called  fantastic.  "  Every 
man  may  see  it ;  man  may  behold  it  afar  off "  (Job 
xxxvi.  25).  After  a  brief  introductory  paragraph  the 
preacher  comes  to  his  analysis.  "  Be  pleased  to 
admit,  and  charge  your  memories  with  this  distribution 
of  the  words.  ...  I  threaten  you  but  with  two  parts, 

1  Cabala,  p.  314. 
10 


146  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

no  further  tediousness,  but  I  ask  for  divers  branches. 
I  can  promise  no  more  shortness.  .  .  .  The  first  is  a 
discovery,  a  manifestation  of  God  to  man.  Every  man 
may  see  it.  .  .  .  This  proposition,  this  discovery,  will 
be  the  first  part,  and  the  other  will  be  a  tacit  answer 
to  a  likely  objection  :  '  Is  not  God  far  off,  and  can 
man  see  at  that  distance  ? '  Yes !  he  may.  Man 
may  behold  it  afar  off" 

The  sermon  is  one  of  the  shortest  of  Donne's 
sermons,  and  ends  so  abruptly  as  to  leave  the  im 
pression  that  it  never  was  delivered  exactly  in  the 
form  in  which  it  has  come  down  to  us.  I  think  it  is 
an  instance  of  Donne's  having  written  out  his  recollec 
tions  of  what  he  actually  said,  assisted  by  notes  which 
he  had  prepared.  There  are  some  delicate  allusions  to 
the  vicissitudes  of  fortune  through  which  the  Earl  of 
Northumberland  had  passed,  which  everyone  present 
must  have  understood.  But  the  concluding  passage 
loses  none  of  its  point,  because  the  personal  allusions 
are  so  gracefully  veiled  under  the  disguise  of 
generalities  in  the  language. 

The  festivities  at  Hanworth  brought  Donne  into  more 
intimate  relations  with  Buckingham,  and  the  result  was 
that  a  few  weeks  later  he  was  called  upon  by  the  king 
to  discharge  a  duty  of  much  delicacy  and  difficulty. 

2.  This  was  to  preach  a  sermon  at  St.  Paul's,  which 
should  be  a  defence  of  His  Majesty's  Instructions  to 
Preachers  recently  issued  by  authority,  and  which  had 
proved  by  no  means  acceptable  to  a  large  section  of 
the  clergy  and  their  congregations. 

For  some  years  before  this  a  movement  had  been 
going  on  at  Oxford,  which  was  slowly  effecting  a 
reaction  against  the  hitherto  dominant  Calvinism  of 


THE  DEAN  147 

the  Puritan  clergy.  The  consecration  of  Laud  to  the 
Bishopric  of  St.  Asaph,  on  the  18th  November  1621, 
had  been  regarded  as  a  great  encouragement  to  his 
friends,  but  it  had  provoked  into  most  unseemly 
language  many  of  the  more  violent  of  his  opponents. 
There  was  great  excitement  up  and  down  the  country, 
and  the  preachers  hurled  defiance  against  those  with 
whom  they  were  at  variance.  James  I.,  as  usual, 
believing  that  he  could  settle  anything  by  issuing  a 
proclamation  or  an  order,  put  forth  certain  "  instruc 
tions  "  to  the  preachers,  which  read  as  if  the  king 
intended  to  restrict  the  liberty  of  speech  hitherto 
allowed  to  the  pulpit,  and  seemed  to  foreshadow  the 
silencing  of  one  of  the  two  Church  parties  by  the 
other  in  the  near  future.  As  mere  advice,  no 
exception  could  be  taken  to  the  words  of  these 
instructions,  "  but,  coming  as  they  did,  as  an  attempt 
to  enforce  silence  on  the  great  questions  of  the  day, 
they  only  served  to  embitter  the  quarrel  which  they 
were  meant  to  calm."  l 

As  might  have  been  expected,  the  popular  excite 
ment  increased ;  and  the  king,  thinking  to  allay  it 
among  the  Londoners  by  appointing  so  popular  a 
preacher  as  the  new  dean  to  explain  the  meaning  and 
intention  of  the  Instructions,  ordered  Donne  to  preach 
at  St.  Paul's  Cross  on  the  14th  September,  and  act  as 
his  spokesman  and  interpreter  to  the  people.  There 
was  an  immense  crowd, — "  as  large  a  congregation  as 
I  ever  saw,"  writes  Donne, — but  the  effect  of  the 
sermon  appears  to  have  been  not  at  all  as  great  as 
was  looked  for.  Indeed,  it  is  but  a  poor  specimen  of 

1  S.  R.  Gardiner,  Prince  Charles  and  the  Spanish  Marriage,  ch.  x. 
p.  233. 


148  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

pulpit  oratory ;  it  is  an  apology  carefully  drawn  up, 
but  cold  and  passionless.  There  is,  however,  one 
curious  passage  which  deserves  quoting,  as  illustrative 
of  the  habits  of  the  Londoners  at  this  time,  and  of 
their  passion  for  the  study  of  Holy  Scripture,  which 
extended  even  to  the  working-classes.  Speaking  of 
the  great  necessity  there  was  for  the  people  to  be 
taught  the  Catechism,  and  to  be  instructed  in  the 
elements  of  Christian  doctrine,  Donne  says,  "  If  you 
should  tell  some  men  that  Calvin's  Institution  were  a 
catechism,  would  they  not  love  catechising  the  better 
for  that  name  ?  " 

The  sermon  was  immediately  published  "  by 
commandment  of  His  Majesty,"  with  an  epistle 
dedicatory  addressed  to  Villiers,  now  High  Admiral 
and  Marquis  of  Buckingham.  I  do  not  think  it  met 
with  any  large  sale,  and  tnere  is  no  sign  that  a  second 
edition  was  ever  called  for. 

3.  A  very  different  sermon  was  that  which  Donne 
preached  two  months  later  before  the  Virginia 
Company,  in  which  he  himself  was  an  adventurer,  or 
shareholder,  and  indeed  was  one  of  the  council. 

This  sermon  may,  with  truth,  be  called  the  first 
missionary  sermon  ever  preached  in  England  since 
Britain  had  become  a  Christian  land.  The  Virginia 
Company  had  been  started  in  .1610  by  a  large 
number  of  the  nobility,  gentry,  London  merchants, 
and  clergy,  partly  as  a  commercial  and  partly  as  a 
philanthropical  and  missionary  undertaking  on  a  very 
ambitious  scale.  It  had  proved,  during  its  first  ten 
years,  an  unsuccessful  speculation,  and  its  affairs  had 
been  grossly  mismanaged.  About  1620,  things  had 
come  to  such  a  pass  that  the  Company  were  divided 


THE  DEAN  149 

into  two  parties,  who  were  quarrelling  violently ;  and 
when  the  saintly  Nicholas  Ferrar,  as  executor  to  f  his 
father,  was  called  on  to  administer  to  the  old 
merchant's  estate,  he  appears  to  have  found  it 
necessary  to  look  very  closely  into  the  accounts  of 
the  Company,  of  which  the  elder  Mr.  Ferrar  had 
been  one  of  the  founders  and  a  large  shareholder. 

The  history  of  the  Virginia  Company  has  not  yet 
been  written,  and  the  materials  for  writing  that  history 
have  only  recently  been  made  available  for  research. 
It  looks,  however,  as  if  Nicholas  Ferrar  and  his 
enthusiastic  friends  were  trying  to  bring  the  religious 
and  missionary  element  into  far  greater  prominence 
than  had  been  done  even  from  the  beginning ;  and  it 
is  not  unlikely  that  the  hope  of  utilising  the  resources 
of  the  Company,  for  bringing  about  the  conversion  of 
the  Indians  to  Christianity,  was  the  strong  motive 
which  urged  Nicholas  Ferrar  to  take  so  active  a  part 
in  the  attempt  to  put  the  finances  upon  a  safe  basis. 
In  1622  Lord  Southampton,  Shakespeare's  early 
friend  and  patron,  was  chosen  treasurer,  and  Nicholas 
Ferrar  deputy.  It  must  have  been  at  their  invitation 
that  Donne  was  invited  to  preach  before  the  Company, 
and  to  impress  upon  the  adventurers,  who  included 
among  them  a  large  number  of  bishops,  clergy,  and 
devout  laity,  an  appeal  from  the  missionary  point 
of  view  which  would  be  likely  to  produce  a  great 
effect.  Unfortunately,  some  months  earlier,  the 
dreadful  tidings  had  arrived  that  the  Indians  in  the 
colony  had  risen  and  massacred  some  six  hundred 
of  the  settlers,  and  since  then  the  outlook  had  not 
been  very  reassuring.  The  occasion  did  not  seem 
favourable  for  advocating  the  duty  of  proselytising, 


150  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

yet  Donne  kept  to  his  point  with  consummate  skill, 
and  pleaded  his  cause  with  a  lofty  earnestness  and 
eloquence 1  such  as  even  he  has  seldom  surpassed. 
Some  of  those  he  addresses  were  seeking,  he  says, 
"  to  establish  such  a  government  as  should  not  depend 
upon  this."  Some  "propose  to  themselves  an  ex 
emption  from  laws — to  live  at  liberty ;  some  present 
benefit  and  profit,  a  sudden  way  to  be  rich,  and  an 
abundance  of  all  desirable  commodities  from  thence. 
.  .  .  All  these  are  not  yet  in  the  right  way.  0  if 
you  could  once  bring  a  catechism  to  be  as  good  ware 
amongst  them  as  a  bugle,  as  a  knife,  as  a  hatchet ;  0 
if  you  would  be  as  ready  to  hearken  at  the  return  of 
a  ship  how  many  Indians  were  converted  to  Christ 
Jesus,  as  what  trees,  or  drugs,  or  dyes  that  ship 
brought,  then  you  were  in  your  right  way,  and  not 
till  then  ;  liberty  and  abundance  are  characteristic  of 
kingdoms,  and  a  kingdom  is  excluded  in  the  text ;  the 
apostles  were  not  to  look  for  it  in  their  employment, 
nor  you  in  this  plantation."  .  .  . 

"  Beloved,"  he  adds,  "  use  godly  means,  and  give  God 
His  leisure.  You  cannot  sow  your  corn  to-day,  and  say 
it  shall  be  above  ground  to-morrow.  .  .  .  All  that  you 
would  have  by  this  plantation,  you  shall  not  have  ;  God 
binds  not  Himself  to  measures.  All  that  you  shall  have, 
you  have  not  yet;  God  binds  not  Himself  to  times.  But 
something  you  shall  have.  Nay !  you  have  already 
some  great  things.  .  .  .  The  gospel  must  be  preached 
to  those  men  to  whom  ye  send.  .  .  .  Preach  to  them 
doctrinally.  Preach  to  them  practically.  Examine 
them  with  your  justice  (as  far  as  consists  with  your 
security),  your  civility;  but  influence  them  with  your 

1  The  text  of  the  sermon  was  Acts  i.  8. 


THE  DEAN  151 

godliness  and  your  religion.  .  .  .  Those  amongst  you 
that  are  old  now  shall  pass  out  of  this  world  with  this 
great  comfort,  that  you  contributed  to  the  beginning  of 
that  commonwealth  and  that  Church,  though  they  live 
not  to  see  the  growth  thereof  to  perfection.  And  you 
that  are  young  now,  may  live  to  see  the  enemy  as 
much  impeached  by  that  place,  and  your  friends — yea 
children — as  well  accommodated  in  that  place  as  any 
other.  You  shall  have  made  this  island,  which  is  but 
as  the  suburbs  of  the  old  world,  a  bridge,  a  gallery  to 
the  new,  to  join  all  to  that  world  that  shall  never  grow 
old — the  kingdom  of  heaven,  and  add  names  to  the 
books  of  our  chronicles,  and  to  the  Book  of  Life." 

The  sermon  was  immediately  published.  It  had  a 
very  large  sale,  and  contributed  greatly  to  increase 
Donne's  popularity. 

Early  in  the  year  another  piece  of  preferment  had 
fallen  to  him — the  valuable  rectory  of  Blunham  in 
Bedfordshire,  which  had  been  promised  him  some  years 
previously  by  Chiles  Grey,  Earl  of  Kent.  He  held 
this  living  with  his  deanery  till  his  death,  and  occasion 
ally  went  down  there,  but  never  appears  to  have 
resided  for  more  than  a  few  weeks  at  a  time.  When 
the  year  1622  came  to  an  end,  Donne  must  have  been 
in  the  enjoyment  of  a  considerable  income,  and  he  was 
freed  from  all  anxieties  about  providing  for  his  family. 
His  eldest  son,  John,  had  just  passed  out  of  West 
minster  School  and  been  elected  to  a  studentship  at 
Christ  Church,  Oxford,  and  the  hand  of  his  daughter 
Constance  had  already  been  sought  in  marriage, 
though  the  match  did  not  come  off.  He  himself 
never  seems  to  have  wished  for  any  higher  Church 
preferment  than  that  which  he  enjoyed ;  but  there 


152  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

must  have  been  many  who  expected  that  he  would 
be  moved  to  the  Episcopate.  Happily,  he  died  Dean 
of  St.  Paul's :  if  he  had  gone  up  higher  we  should 
hardly  have  known  him  as  we  do,  as  the  greatest 
preacher  of  his  time. 


CHAPTER  VII 

DONNE   AT   ST.   DUNSTAN'S 

THE  year  1623  is  a  somewhat  memorable  one  in  our 
annals.  On  the  19th  of  February  Prince  Charles, 
accompanied  by  Buckingham,  and  with  no  more  than 
three  attendants,  crossed  the  Channel  on  the  famous 
journey  to  Spain,  to  bring  back,  if  it  might  be  so,  the 
Infanta  Maria,  sister  of  Philip  iv.,  as  the  prince's  bride 
and  the  future  Queen  of  England.  It  was  a  mad 
adventure ;  but  it  had  its  very  serious  aspects.  The 
Infanta  was  the  granddaughter  of  Philip  II., consort  of  our 
own  Queen  Mary,  who,  in  the  firm  belief  of  the  people 
of  England, had  been  the  chief  instigator  of  the  execrated 
Marian  persecutions.  The  Infanta  was  a  devout,  even 
a  bigoted  member  of  the  Eoman  communion ;  and  that 
such  a  princess  should  become  the  wife  of  the  heir 
to  the  English  throne,  and  mother  of  his  children,  was 
a  dreadful  and  hateful  thought  to  the  great  bulk  of  the 
nation.  The  news  that  the  Prince  of  Wales  had 
actually  slipped  away  and  put  himself  into  the  power 
of  those  whom  the  Puritan  zealots  unhesitatingly 
believed  to  be  capable  of  any  treachery,  created  an 
outburst  of  alarm  and  dismay  such  as  had  not  been 
known  since  the  days  of  the  Armada.  Nor  was  the 
widespread  feeling  of  anxiety  groundless. 

Though  James  L  was  only  in  his  fifty-seventh  year, 


153 


154  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

he  had  been  for  some  time  in  bad  health,  and  was 
frequently  ailing.  Parliament  had  been  dissolved  for 
more  than  a  year,  and  the  king  had  let  it  be  known 
that  he  would  not  again  summon  the  great  council  of 
the  nation.  The  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  (Abbot) 
was  in  disgrace,  and,  when  consulted,  took  up  a 
position  of  antagonism  to  the  Spanish  marriage.  The 
religious  dissensions  among  the  clergy  and  their 
several  adherents  were  acute  and  increasing  in 
acrimony.  Trade  and  commerce  indeed  were  nourish 
ing,  but  there  was  deep  discontent  among  the  rising 
middle  classes,  who  were  sullenly  chafing  under 
grievances,  which  they  were  determined  should  be 
redressed  some  day ;  and  while  these  elements  of 
discord  were  fermenting  below  the  surface,  James  I., 
grown  more  and  more  indolent,  undecided,  and  pro 
crastinating  as  he  had  grown  older,  was  left  in  a 
position  of  strange  isolation.  His  consort,  Queen 
Anne,  had  been  dead  just  four  years  (2nd  March  1619). 
Of  the  seven  children  she  had  borne  him  only  two 
survived  her.  Prince  Charles  had  just  put  himself 
in  the  power  of  the  hated  Spaniards,  and  his  sister, 
the  so-called  Queen  of  Bohemia,  was  living  with  her 
children  in  banishment.  There  was  no  one  in  Britain 
nearer  by  blood  to  the  king  than  his  distant  cousin, 
Ludovic  Stuart,  Duke  of  Lennox,  in  the  peerage  of 
Scotland.1  As  to  who  had  the  best  title  to  the 
crown,  next  in  succession  to  the  king's  grandchildren, 
no  one  seemed  to  know,  and  certainly  no  one  was 
audacious  enough  to  assert  his  claim.  The  king 

1  He  was  created  Duke  of  Richmond,  in  the  peerage  of  England, 
17th  May  1622,  possibly  to  assure  him  precedence  over  any  others  of 
the  nobility  who  claimed  to  be  of  the  blood  royal. 


DONNE  AT  ST.  DUNSTAN'S  155 

stood  alone.  Of  such  festivities  and  amusements  as 
had  been  continual  in  former  years  we  hear  almost 
nothing.  Over  the  court  a  gloom  was  hanging.  Only 
twice  do  we  hear  of  Donne  being  called  upon  during  this 
year  to  preach  any  special  sermons,  viz.,  on  the  25th 
April,  when  the  new  chapel  of  Lincoln's  Inn  (of 
which  he  had  himself  laid  the  foundation  stone  five 
years  before)  was  consecrated;  and  on  the  23rd  of 
October,  when  a  great  feast  was  held  in  the  Temple, 
on  occasion  of  fifteen  sergeants  being  admitted  to  the 
degree  of  the  Coif.  The  sermon  was  delivered  at  St. 
Paul's  in  the  evening.  It  came  at  the  end  of  a  very 
long  day.  The  rain  was  falling  in  torrents — the  new 
sergeants  and  their  friends  "  went  dabbling  on  foot 
and  bareheaded,"  and  how  the  congregation  listened 
to  the  preacher  we  are  not  told.  But  the  great 
"  Sergeants'  Feast "  was  nearly  fatal  to  Donne  him 
self  :  shortly  afterwards  he  was  struck  down  by  a 
very  serious  illness,  which  appears  to  have  been  of  a 
typhoid  character,  and  for  some  weeks  he  was  in  such 
great  danger  that  little  hope  was  entertained  of  his 
recovery.  The  king  sent  his  own  physician  to  consult 
with  others  on  his  case,  but  it  was  not  till  the  20th 
December  that  hopes  began  to  be  entertained  of  his 
recovery.  During  all  these  six  or  eight  weeks  of 
very  serious  illness,  when  he  was  hovering  between 
life  and  death,  Donne  seems  to  have  kept  a  kind  of 
diary,  in  which  he  wrote  down  thoughts  that  suggested 
themselves  to  him  from  day  to  day.  He  was  still 
confined  to  his  sickroom  when  he  employed  himself 
in  revising  these  meditations.  Beading  was  for 
bidden  him  by  his  physicians,  though  they  did  not 
order  him  to  cease  from  writing,  judging  it  prudent  to 


156  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

allow  him  this  one  indulgence,  perhaps  because  his 
wonderfully  active  intellect  could  not  safely  be  left 
without  some  opportunity  of  exercising  itself.  Here 
upon  he  determined  to  prepare  for  the  press  that 
unique  volume,  which  he  entitled  Devotions  upon 
Emergent  Occasions,  and  Several  Steps  in  my  Sickness. 
The  following  letter  to  Sir  Eobert  Carr  shows  that 
the  first  issue  was  printed  privately  for  distribution 
among  his  friends.  It  was  dedicated  to  Prince 
Charles,  and  was  sent  out  very  early  in  1624: — 

"  Though  I  have  left  my  bed,  I  have  not  left  my 
bedside.  I  sit  there  still,  and  as  a  prisoner  dis 
charged  sits  at  the  prison  door,  to  beg  fees,  so  sit  I 
here  to  gather  crumbs.  I  have  used  this  leisure  to 
put  the  meditations,  had  in  my  sickness,  into  some 
such  order  as  may  minister  some  holy  delight.  They 
arise  to  so  many  sheets  (perchance  twenty)  as  that, 
without  staying  for  that  furniture  of  an  epistle  that 
my  friends  importuned  me  to  print  them,  I  importune 
my  friends  to  receive  them  printed.  That,  being  in 
hand,  through  this  long  trunk,  that  reaches  from  St. 
Paul's  to  St.  James's,  I  whisper  into  your  ear  this 
question,  whether  there  be  any  uncomeliness  or  un- 
seasonableness  in  presenting  matter  of  devotion  or 
mortification  to  that  prince,  whom  I  pray  God  nothing 
may  ever  mortify,  but  holiness.  If  you  allow  my 
purposes  in  general,  I  pray  cast  your  eye  upon  the 
title  and  the  epistle,  and  rectify  me  in  them  :  I  submit 
substance  and  circumstance  to  you,  and  the  poor 
author  of  both. 

"  Your  very  humble  and  very  thankful  servant  in 
Christ  Jesus, 

"  J.  DONNE." 


DONNE  AT  ST.  DUNSTAN'S  157 

Of  this  first  edition  I  have  never  seen  a  copy,  but 
so  great  was  the  demand  for  the  book  that  it  became 
necessary  to  publish  a  second  edition  almost  immedi 
ately  after  the  first ;  a  third  edition  was  called  for 
in  1626,  and  others  followed.  The  Devotions  were 
printed  in  a  little  12 mo  volume  of  589  pages. 
Donne,  in  a  letter  to  a  friend  whose  name  has 
not  come  down  to  us,  gives  the  following  character 
istic  account  of  the  method  and  plan  of  the 
work  : — 

"  MY  LORD, — To  make  myself  believe  that  our  life 
is  something,  I  use  in  my  thoughts  to  compare  it  to 
something,  if  it  be  like  anything  that  is  something. 
It  is  like  a  sentence,  so  much  as  may  be  uttered  in  a 
breathing,  and  such  a  difference  as  is  in  styles  is  in 
our  lives  contracted  and  dilated.  And  as  in  some 
styles  there  are  open  parentheses,  sentences  within 
sentences,  so  there  are  lives  within  our  lives.  I  am 
in  such  a  parenthesis  now  (in  a  convalesence),  when  I 
thought  myself  very  near  my  period.  God  brought 
me  into  a  low  valley,  and  from  thence  showed  me  a 
high  Jerusalem,  upon  so  high  a  hill  as  that  He 
thought  it  fit  to  bid  me  stay  and  gather  more  breath. 
This  I  do  by  meditating,  by  expostulating,  by  praying, 
for  since  I  am  barred  of  my  ordinary  diet,  which  is 
reading,  I  make  these  my  exercises,  which  is  another 
part  of  physic.  And  these  meditations  and  expostula 
tions  and  prayers  I  am  bold  to  send  to  your  lordship, 
that,  as  this  which  I  live  now  is  a  kind  of  a  second 
life,  I  may  deliver  myself  over  to  your  lordship  in 
this  life  with  the  same  affection  and  devotion  as  made 
me  yours  in  all  my  former  life,  and  as  long  as  any 


158  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

image   of    this   world   sticks   in  my   soul,  shall   ever 
remain  in  your  lordship's,"  etc. 

I  have  called  Donne's  Devotions  a  unique  work,  for 
it  is  unique  in  the  circumstances  under  which  it  was 
composed,  and  not  less  so  in  the  matter  and  style  of 
the  composition  itself.  It  is  difficult  to  understand 
how  it  should  ever  have  been  as  popular  as  it  un 
doubtedly  was,  and  it  is  hardly  less  difficult  to  explain 
how  it  has  continued  to  exercise  a  strong  fascination 
over  men  of  very  various  orders  of  mind — men  of 
fastidious  taste,  who  might  have  been  expected  to  be 
offended  by  the  ruggedness  of  the  style,  and  men  of 
deeply  devout  temperament,  who,  one  would  have 
thought,  would  be  shocked  by  what  I  can  only  call 
the  religious  familiarity  which  sometimes  approaches 
to  a  grotesque  profaneness  of  language. 

There  is,  indeed,  a  certain  interest  in  following  the 
daily  course  of  the  patient's  illness  and  its  treatment 
by  the  physicians,  from  what  Donne  calls  "  the  first 
grudging  of  my  sickness  till  the  recovery  had  been 
assured/'  and  they  had  taken  their  leave  of  him  with  a 
warning  "  of  the  fearful  danger  of  relapsing."  That  he 
should  have  lived  through  the  severity  of  the  attack 
and  the  drastic  treatment  prescribed  is  wonderful,  but 
that  during  all  that  time  of  dangerous  illness  he  should 
have  continued  to  take  notes  and  write  them  down, 
and  that  when  he  had  only  just  been  allowed  to  sit 
up  in  his  bed  those  notes  should  have  been  in  such  a 
form  as  allowed  of  their  being  prepared  for  the  press, 
is  more  wonderful  still. 

For  every  day  there  is  (1)  a  meditation  about  God 
and  His  dealings  with  His  servant ;  (2)  an  expostula- 


DONNE  AT  ST.  DUNSTAN'S  159 

tion  with  God — a  kind  of  protest  as  if  he  would 
know  why  his  Heavenly  Father  was  thus  dealing  with 
him  ;  and  (3)  a  prayer  to  God — a  supreme  offering  of 
submission  and  aspiration,  of  adoring  hope  and  trust  and 
love.  But  all  these  outpourings  are,  in  some  strange 
way,  at  least  as  much  the  outpourings  of  the  sanctified 
intellect  as  of  the  heart,  and  they  are  expressed  in 
language  often  hard  to  follow.  The  thoughts  are 
packed  and  -crowded  into  sentences  sometimes  so 
confused  and  entangled  that  they  seem  to  be  stagger 
ing  under  the  weight  they  have  to  carry  ;  or,  to  change 
the  metaphor,  it  is  as  if  some  craftsmen  were  weaving 
a  hundred  threads  at  once,  some  fine  as  gossamer, 
some  coarse  as  vulgarest  tow,  till  the  roughness  of  the 
texture  almost  concealed  the  pattern  on  the  cloth. 
We  are  apt  to  be  irritated  by  the  continual  demand 
upon  our  close  attention,  and  are  impatient  of  the 
occasional  obscurity,  but  Donne's  contemporaries  cared 
less  for  a  transparent  style  than  for  the  thoughts  that 
the  language  was  meant  to  express,  and  which  some 
times  was  half  concealed  by  verbiage.  That  which 
did  appeal  to  his  contemporaries  in  the  Devotions  was 
the  intense  reality  of  absorbing  and  entire  trust  in  the 
nearness  of  God,  which  the  book  exhibits  in  every 
page.  Donne  "  throws  himself  on  God,  and  unperplext " 
speaks  to  Him  as  a  man  might  to  his  dearest  friend, 
who  knew  all  his  secrets,  and  loved  him  with  a  divine 
love  that  would  spare  him  all  reproaches.  Hence 
there  is  no  morbid  dwelling  on  sins  in  the  past  long 
since  forgiven ;  no  details  of  self-accusation  in  the 
presence  of  the  Holy  One,  who  is  of  purer  eyes  than 
to  behold  iniquity  ;  only  a  brave  confidence  in  the 
Father  of  Mercies,  whose  gracious  Spirit  had  wrought 


160  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

a  great  work  in  His  servant's  heart,  and  would  not 
leave  him  even  to  the  end.  And  all  this  is  what 
makes  this  book  to  many,  even  now,  a  stay  and  support 
in  hours  when  the  devotional  instinct  in  the  hunger  of 
the  soul  calls  for  strong  meat,  and  not  mere  milk  for 
babes. 

Extracts  or  quotations  from  the  Devotions  will  leave 
a  very  inadequate  impression  upon  the  reader  of  the 
scope  and  tone  of  the  work,  but  the  following  prayer, 
which  represents  the  patient's  attitude  of  supplication 
on  the  fifth  day,  when  "  the  physician  comes,"  may 
serve  as  a  specimen  of  these  pleadings  with  God : — 

"  0  eternal  and  most  gracious  Lord,  who  calledst 
down  fire  from  heaven  upon  the  sinful  cities,  but  once, 
and  openedst  the  earth  to  swallow  the  murmurers, 
but  once,  and  threwest  down  the  Tower  of  Siloe  upon 
sinners,  but  once,  but  for  Thy  works  of  mercy  repeatest 
them  often,  and  still  workest  by  Thine  own  patterns, 
as  Thou  broughtest  man  into  this  world,  by  giving 
him  a  helper  fit  for  him  here,  so  whether  it  be  Thy 
will  to  continue  me  long  thus,  or  to  dismiss  me  by 
death,  be  pleased  to  afford  me  the  helps  fit  for  both 
conditions,  either  for  my  weak  stay  here  or  my  final 
transmigration  from  hence.  And  if  Thou  mayest 
receive  glory  by  that  way  (and  by  all  ways,  Thou 
mayest  receive  glory),  glorify  Thyself  in  preserving 
this  body  from  such  infections  as  might  withhold 
those  who  would  come,  or  endanger  them  who  do 
come,  and  preserve  this  soul  in  the  faculties  thereof 
from  all  such  distempers,  as  might  shake  the  assur 
ance  which  myself  and  others  have  had,  that  because 
Thou  hast  loved  me,  Thou  wouldst  love  me  to  my 
end  and  at  my  end.  Open  none  of  my  doors,  not  of 


DONNE  AT  ST.  DUNSTAN'S  161 

my  heart,  not  of  mine  ears,  not  of  my  house,  to  any 
supplanter  that  would  enter  to  undermine  me  in  my 
religion  to  Thee  in  the  time  of  my  weakness,  or  to 
defame  me  and  magnify  himself  with  false  rumours 
of  such  a  victory,  and  surprisal  of  me  after  I  am 
dead.  Be  my  salvation,  and  plead  my  salvation : 
work  it  and  declare  it,  and  as  Thy  triumphant  shall 
be,  so  let  the  militant  Church  be  assured  that  Thou 
wast  my  God,  and  I  Thy  servant,  to,  and  in  my 
consummation.  Bless  Thou  the  learning  and  the 
labour  of  this  man,  whom  Thou  sendest  to  assist  me ; 
and  since  Thou  takest  me  by  the  hand  and  puttest 
me  into  his  hands  (for  I  come  to  him  in  Thy  name, 
who  in  Thy  name  comes  to  me),  since  I  clog  not  my 
hopes  jn  him,  no,  nor  my  prayers  to  Thee,  with  any 
limited  conditions,  but  enwrap  all  in  those  two 
petitions,  Thy  kingdom  come,  Thy  will  be  done, 
prosper  him,  and  relieve  me  in  Thy  way,  in  Thy  time, 
and  in  Thy  measure.  Amen." 

While  Donne  was  still  lying  in  great  peril  of  his 
life,  his  daughter  Constance  was  married  to  Edward 
Allen,  the  founder  of  Dulwich  College,  the  bride 
being  in  her  twentieth,  her  husband  in  his  fifty-eighth 
year,  i.e.  seven  years  older  than  her  father.  The 
marriage  had  been  arranged  some  two  months  before, 
and  was  celebrated  at  Camber  well  on  the  3rd 
December  1623,  from  the  house  of  her  uncle,  Sir 
Thomas  Grymes,  who,  as  has  been  mentioned,  had 
married  Margaret,  second  daughter  of  Sir  George 
More  of  Losely.  Parliament  assembled  on  the 
18th  February  1624,  and  Convocation  was,  as  a 
matter  of  course,  called  together  at  the  same  time. 
Donne  was  appointed  Prolocutor  of  the  Lower  House, 
ii 


162  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

much  against  his  own  wishes.  In  his  opening 
address  to  the  House,  he  declares  that  he  had  done 
his  utmost  to  escape  a  burden  which  his  state  of 
health  evidently  showed  he  was  unable  to  support, 
but  that  it  had  been  forced  upon  him  at  very  short 
notice,  and  he  had  so  little  expected  it  that  he 
hardly  knew  what  his  duties  as  Prolocutor  were,  or 
what  was  expected  of  him. 

A  fortnight  later  he  received  his  last  piece  of 
preferment.  This  was  the  Vicarage  of  St.  Dunstan's 
in  the  West,  which  had  been  promised  him  some  years 
before  by  Eichard  Sackville,  Earl  of  Dorset,  one  of 
the  most  munificent  patrons  of  poets  and  men  of 
letters  in  that  munificent  age. 

St.  Dunstan's  had  been  held  for  fifty  years  by  Dr. 
Thomas  White,  who  had  come  up  to  London  shortly 
after  taking  his  degree  at  Oxford,  and  been  presented 
to  St.  Dunstan's  in  1575,  i.e.  two  years  after  Donne 
was  born.  Here  he  attracted  the  notice  of  Bishop 
Aylmer  by  his  eloquence  as  a  preacher,  and  in  the 
year  of  the  Armada  he  became  Prebend  of  Mora  in 
St.  Paul's  Cathedral.  During  the  next  five  years 
he  was  promoted  in  rapid  succession  to  the  Chancellor 
ship  of  Salisbury,  to  a  Canonry  at  Christ  Church, 
Oxford,  and  to  another  in  the  Chapel  Eoyal  at 
Windsor.  All  these  preferments  he  held  till  his 
death,  on  the  1st  of  March  1624,  and  it  must  be 
admitted  that  he  made  a  good  use  of  the  wealth  he 
acquired.  Besides  building  and  endowing  almshouses 
at  Bristol,  where  he  was  born,  he  founded  Sion  College 
in  his  lifetime,  and  the  Professorship  of  Moral  Philo 
sophy  at  Oxford,  which  still  bears  his  name,  and  he 


DONNE  AT  ST.  DUNSTAN'S  163 

provided  for  the  endowment  of  a  Lectureship  at  St. 
Dunstan's,  the  lecturer  being  required  to  preach 
every  Sunday  and  Thursday  afternoon. 

From  its  proximity  to  the  Temple  and  the  lawyers' 
quarter,  and  within  a  short  walk  of  most  of  the  great 
houses  of  the  nobility,  St.  Dunstan's  could  not  fail  to 
be  a  very  important  cure  for  any  man  of  earnestness 
and  more  than  ordinary  gifts  as  a  preacher ;  it  had 
been  for  long  what  is  now  called  a  fashionable  church, 
and  Donne  felt  the  responsibility  which  was  laid 
upon  him.  The  income  was  not  large,  but  it  was 
not  so  inconsiderable  as  might  be  inferred  from  a 
passage  in  one  of  his  letters,  where  he  says,  "  I  make 
not  a  shilling  profit  of  St.  Dunstan's  as  a  churchman," 
meaning  that,  after  payment  of  all  outgoings  and  the 
stipend  of  his  curate,  there  was  nothing  left  out  of 
the  vicarial  tithes.  As  to  the  rectorial  tithes,  of  these 
he  held  a  lease  from  the  Earl  of  Dorset  at  a  rent 
which  apparently  was  higher  than  it  should  have 
been.  It  is  abundantly  clear  that  Donne  accepted 
the  living  of  St.  Dunstan's  from  no  mercenary  motive. 
He  seems  to  have  had  a  desire  to  bring  himself  into 
closer  personal  relations  with  his  congregation  than 
was  possible  at  St.  Paul's.  There  he  had  nothing 
that  could  be  strictly  called  a  cure  of  souls.  The 
"  statutable  sermons "  preached  in  the  Cathedral 
brought  him  no  nearer  to  the  people  who  came  to 
listen ;  there  was  a  gulf  between  him  and  them — he 
was  not  their  pastor,  and  they  were  not  his  flock. 
At  St.  Dunstan's  all  this  was  changed.  Though 
continuing,  of  course,  to  reside  at  the  deanery,  he 
appears  to  have  given  up  the  vicarage-house  to  his 
lecturer  as  curate ;  this  was  Matthew  Griffith,  a  young 


164  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

man  who  had  but  recently  taken  his  M.A.  degree  at 
Oxford,  and  for  whom  he  is  said  to  have  entertained 
a  warm  regard.  Mr.  Griffith  suffered  for  his  loyalty 
during  the  Commonwealth  days  ;  he  became  eventually 
Preacher  at  the  Temple,  and  held  one  of  the  City  livings 
in  the  gift  of  the  Dean  and  Chapter,  from  which  he 
was  ejected  as  a  Eoyalist  in  1642.  At  the  Eestora- 
tion  he  recovered  his  benefice,  and  died  there  in  1665. 

Donne  preached  his  first  sermon  at  St.  Dunstan's  on 
the  llth  April,  and  chose  as  his  text  Deut.  xxv.  5  : 
"  If  brethren  dwell  together,  and  one  of  them  die,  and 
leave  no  child,  the  wife  of  the  dead  shall  not  marry 
without  unto  a  stranger  :  her  husbands  brother  shall  go 
in  unto  her,  and  take  her  to  him  to  wife,  and  perform  the 
duty  of  the  husband's  brother  to  her" 

The  sermon  is  a  kind  of  manifesto  setting  forth  the 
preacher's  view  of  the  reciprocal  duties  of  the  pastor 
and  his  flock.  It  was  evidently  composed  with  great 
care,  and  is  expressed  in  language  almost  homely  in 
its  simplicity,  very  unlike  the  ordinary  style  of 
Donne's  most  studied  sermons  delivered  on  important 
occasions.  "  From  these  words,"  he  says,  "  we  shall 
make  our  approaches  and  application  to  the  present 
occasion.  .  .  .  First,  there  is  a  marriage  in  the  case — 
the  taking  and  leaving  the  Church  is  not  an  indifferent, 
an  arbitrary  thing ;  it  is  a  marriage,  and  marriage 
implies  honour  ;  it  is  an  honourable  estate,  and  that 
implies  charge  ;  it  is  a  burdensome  state — there  is 
honour  and  labour  in  marriage.  You  must  be  content 
to  afford  the  honour,  we  must  be  content  to  endure 
the  labour.  ...  It  is  a  marriage  after  the  death  of 
another.  ...  It  must  be  a  brother,  a  spiritual  brother 
professor  of  the  same  faith — that  succeeds  in  this 


DONNE  AT  ST.  DUNSTAN'S  165 

marriage,  in  this  possession,  and  this  government  of 
that  widow  Church.  .  .  .  And  then,  being  thus 
married  to  this  widow — taking  the  charge  of  this 
Church — he  must  '  perform  the  duty  of  a  husband's 
brother.'  He  must — it  is  a  personal  service,  not  to  be 
done  always  by  proxy  and  delegates  ;  he  must,  and  he 
must  perform — not  begin  well  and  not  persist,  com 
mence  and  not  consummate  ;  but  perform  the  work — as 
it  is  a  duty.  ...  It  is  a  duty  in  us  to  do  that  we 
are  sent  for,  by  His  word  and  His  sacraments  to 
establish  you  in  His  holy  obedience  and  His  rich  and 
honourable  service,  .  .  .  and  that  the  true  right  of 
people  and  pastor  and  patron  be  preserved,  to  the 
preservation  of  love  and  peace  and  good  opinion  of  one 
another." 

In  the  course  of  the  sermon  all  these  points  are 
dwelt  on,  and  he  ends  by  emphasising  and  recapitu 
lating  what  he  had  said.  "  If  the  pastor  love,  there 
will  be  a  double  labour ;  if  the  people  love,  there  will 
be  double  respect.  For  where  the  congregation  loves 
the  pastor,  he  will  forbear  bitter  reproofs  and  wounding 
increpations,  and  where  the  pastor  loves  his  congrega 
tion,  his  rebukes,  because  they  proceed  out  of  love,  will 
be  acceptable  and  well  interpreted  by  them,  .  .  .  that 
love  being  the  root  of  all,  the  fruit  of  all  may  be  peace ; 
love  being  the  soul  of  all,  the  body  of  all  may  be 
unity,  which  the  Lord  of  unity  and  concord  grant  to 
us  all  for  His  Son  Jesus  Christ's  sake." 

Such  was  Donne's  manifesto  when  he  preached  for 
the  first  time  in  St.  Dunstan's  pulpit ;  it  was  a  noble 
setting  forth  of  a  high  ideal,  which  for  the  remaining 
seven  years  of  his  life  he  strove  with  all  his  heart  to 
carry  out,  and  in  doing  so  he  found  his  reward. 


166  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

The  fact  that  no  more  than  five  or  six  sermons 
preached  at  St.  Dunstan's  are  to  be  found  among 
Donne's  printed  works l  goes  far  to  prove  that  his 
usual  practice  in  that  church  was  to  trust  to  such 
notes  as  he  had  prepared  beforehand.  In  preaching 
at  court,  or  on  the  important  occasions  when  he  was 
called  upon  to  speak  with  authority,  and  when  every 
word  had  to  be  weighed  lest  any  word  should  be  mis 
understood  or  misinterpreted,  he  doubtless  committed 
the  sermon  to  memory,  according  to  the  almost  uni 
versal  custom  of  the  time ;  and  of  such  sermons  we 
may  assume  that  we  have  the  ipsissima  verba  of  the 
preacher,  who  was  liable  to  be  called  to  account  for 
them,  and  sometimes  to  produce  the  manuscript,  which 
might  be  used  against  him  ;  indeed  this  happened  once 
to  Donne  himself,  as  we  shall  see  a  little  later  on. 

Not  many  months  before  Donne's  becoming  Vicar  of 
St.  Dunstan's,  Izaak  Walton  had  married  his  first 
wife,  and  settled  as  a  tradesman  in  the  parish.  He 
was  then  in  his  thirty-first  year,  and  he  occupied  a 
house  on  the  north  side  of  Fleet  Street,  two  doors  to 
the  west  of  Chancery  Lane.2 

A  close  intimacy  sprang  up  between  the  gentle 
angler  and  Donne.  On  the  one  side  there  was  an 
almost  idolatrous  reverence  and  admiration  ;  on  the 
other  a  generous  esteem  and  affection.  From  this  time 
Walton's  life  of  his  friend  and  pastor  is  much  more 
to  be  trusted  than  the  earlier  portion,  where  many 

1  In  the  first  folio  there  are  eighty  sermons  ;  in  the  second,  fifty  ;  in 
the  third,  twenty-five  ;  to  these  must  be  added  five  others  (including 
that  at  the  funeral  of  Lady  Danvers),  published  during  Donne's  life 
time,  four  of  which  have  never  been  reprinted. 

2  There  is  an  engraving  of  Nash's  drawing  of  Walton's  house  in 
Zouch's  Life  of  Walton,  p.  4,  12mo,  1823. 


DONNE  AT  ST.  DUNSTAN'S  167 

errors  of  detail  are  to  be  found  which  modern 
research  has  corrected ;  and  Walton's  account  of 
Donne's  habits  and  of  his  inner  life  and  character 
(which  became  increasingly  softened  and  sanctified 
during  his  declining  years)  gives  us  a  picture  such  as 
no  other  writer  in  the  English  language  has  put  into 
words.  Walton's  life  of  Donne  is  the  masterpiece  of 
biographical  literature.  It  is  curious  to  note  how,  in 
the  latter  portion  of  this  inimitable  sketch  of  his  great 
friend,  Walton  seems  to  think  of  him  much  less  as 
Dean  of  St.  Paul's  than  as  the  honoured  Vicar  of  St. 
Dunstan's,  and  how  he  represents  him  from  the  day 
when  he  entered  upon  his  new  vocation  of  parish 
priest  as  becoming  more  and  more  absorbed  in  that, 
as  though  the  claims  which  St.  Paul's  had  upon  him 
were  regarded  as  official  duties  indeed,  but  such  as 
were  of  secondary  importance  as  compared  with  those 
more  personal  calls  upon  him  which  his  parish  and  his 
parishioners  claimed  at  his  hands.  Indeed,  from  this 
time  Donne  retired  more  and  more  from  the  old 
world  in  which  for  the  last  twenty  years  he  had  been 
such  a  conspicuous  figure,  and  he  rarely  attended  the 
court  except  on  those  occasions  when  he  was  summoned 
to  preach  in  his  turn  as  one  of  the  king's  chaplains ; 
and  though  the  long  and  close  friendships  which  he  had 
formed  with  many  of  the  nobility  still  brought  him 
necessarily  into  frequent  intercourse  with  some  of  the 
greatest  people  in  the  land, — by  whom,  as  by  the 
members  of  their  families,  he  was  regarded  as  one 
worthy  of  special  confidence  and  true  regard, — yet  the 
tone  of  his  letters  is  different  from  that  of  his  earlier 
correspondence ;  there  is  little  of  mere  court  gossip 
and  laboured  compliments,  the  old  frivolity  has  died 


168  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

out,  and  the  old  anxiety  about  the  future.  The  world 
had  not  treated  him  badly.  God  had  been  very 
gracious  to  him.  The  work  that  he  had  to  do  he 
loved  to  perform.  Eiches,  he  knew — and  had  again 
and  again  proclaimed  it — were  as  often  as  not  a  snare. 
He  aimed  at  nothing  higher  than  he  had  attained  to ; 
he  asked  for  no  more  than  had  been  bestowed. 

"  The  latter  part  of  his  life,"  says  Walton,  "  may  be 
said  to  be  a  continual  study  ;  for  as  he  usually  preached 
once  a  week,  if  not  oftener,  so  after  his  sermon  he 
never  gave  his  eyes  rest  till  he  had  chosen  out  a  new 
text,  and  that  night  cast  his  sermon  into  a  form,  and 
his  text  into  divisions  ;  and  the  next  day  betook  him 
self  to  consult  the  fathers  and  so  commit  his  medita 
tions  to  his  memory,  which  was  excellent.  But  upon 
Saturday  he  usually  gave  himself  and  his  mind  a  rest 
from  the  weary  burden  of  his  week's  meditations,  and 
usually  spent  that  day  in  visitation  of  friends,  or  some 
other  diversions  of  his  thoughts,  and  would  say  that 
he  gave  both  his  body  and  mind  that  refreshment  that 
he  might  be  enabled  to  do  the  work  of  the  day  follow 
ing,  not  faintly,  but  with  courage  and  cheerfulness." 

When  Donne  entered  upon  his  ministry  at  St. 
Dunstan's  the  reign  of  James  I.  was  drawing  to  a 
close,  and  Prince  Charles  had  returned  to  England. 
When  Lord  Bristol  took  his  leave  of  Philip  iv.  on 
28th  January  1624,  the  long-protracted  negotiations 
concerned  with  the  Spanish  marriage  practically 
came  to  an  end.  James  was  compelled  to  assemble 
Parliament  once  more;  and  on  the  23rd  of  March, 
in  deference  to  the  strong  feeling  expressed  in  the 
House  of  Commons,  the  king  declared  the  treaties 


DONNE  AT  ST.  DUNSTAN'S  163 

dissolved.  Meanwhile,  the  feeling  in  the  country  at 
large  against  the  popish  recusants  and  the  Koman 
propagandists  was  waxing  stronger  and  stronger.  To 
tolerate  them  or  their  tenets  was  denounced  as 
abominable.  Yet  the  Prince  of  Wales  was  still 
unmarried,  and  it  was  obviously  desirable  that  a 
consort  for  him  should  be  provided  without  delay. 
On  the  17th  May,  Hay,  Earl  of  Carlisle,  was  sent 
to  France  to  negotiate  a  treaty  of  marriage  with 
Henrietta  Maria ;  and,  as  before,  the  great  difficulty 
that  presented  itself  was  the  question  of  how  the 
English  Catholics  were  to  be  treated  in  the  future. 
Certain  concessions  were  made  which  were  very 
distasteful  to  the  people,  and  especially  to  the 
Puritans,  and  it  is  possible  that,  among  other 
sufficient  reasons,  the  desire  to  avoid  the  discussion 
of  the  subject  in  the  House  of  Commons  may  have 
suggested  successive  prorogations  of  Parliament  from 
the  29th  May  till  its  final  reassembling  on  the  19th 
February  1625.  The  treaty  for  the  marriage  of 
Prince  Charles  to  Henrietta  Maria  had  been  pre 
viously  ratified  by  James  I.  on  the  12th  December 
1624,  though  nearly  five  months  passed  before  it  was 
actually  carried  into  effect. 

That  spring  was  a  very  sickly  season,  and  among 
others  of  the  nobility  who  succumbed  was  the 
Marquis  of  Hamilton,  who  on  the  2nd  March  died 
at  Whitehall  of  what  is  called  "  a  malignant  fever," 
and  which  was  probably  either  typhus,  or  perhaps 
the  dreaded  plague,  which  a  month  later  began  its 
frightful  ravages  in  London.  Chamberlain  speaks  of 
Hamilton  as  "  the  flower  of  that  nation  "  (Scotland), 
and  "  the  gallantest  gentleman  of  both  nations."  He 


170  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

was  little  more  than  thirty-five  years  of  age,  and  a 
man  of  great  ability  and  promise.  His  death  was  a 
painful  shock  to  the  king,  and  some  days  after  it 
occurred  Sir  Eobert  Carr  wrote  to  Donne  asking  him 
to  write  a  poem  upon  the  occasion.  He  could  hardly 
refuse,  and  he  sent  the  following  letter  in  reply : — 

"  SIR, — I  presume  you  rather  try  what  you  can  do 
in  me,  than  what  I  can  do  in  verse :  you  know  my 
uttermost  when  it  was  best,  and  even  then  I  did  best 
when  I  had  least  truth  for  my  subjects.  In  this 
present  case  there  is  so  much  truth  as  it  defeats 
all  poetry.  Call,  therefore,  this  paper  by  what 
name  you  will,  and  if  it  be  not  worthy  of  him, 
nor  of  you,  nor  of  me,  smother  it,  and  be  that  the 
sacrifice.  If  you  had  commanded  me  to  have  waited 
on  his  body  in  Scotland  and  preached  there,  I  would 
have  embraced  the  obligation  with  more  alacrity. 
But  I  thank  you,  that  you  would  command  to  do 
that  which  I  was  loth  to  do,  for  even  that  hath 
given  a  tincture  of  merit  to  the  obedience  of 

"  Your  poor  friend  and  servant  in  Christ  Jesus, 

"  J.  DONNE." 

Donne  put  his  thoughts  into  the  form  of  what 
he  calls  "  A  Hymn  to  the  Saints  and  to  Marquis 
Hamilton."  It  was  at  once  circulated  in  manuscript, 
but  so  strong  was  the  prejudice  at  this  time  against 
a  divine  stooping  so  low  as  to  write  poetry,  that 
Chamberlain,  when  forwarding  a  copy  of  "  certain 
verses  of  our  Dean  of  Paul's  upon  the  death  of 
the  Marquis  of  Hamilton,"  adds,  that  "  though  they 
be  reasonable,  witty,  and  well  done,  yet  I  could  wish 


DONNE  AT  ST.  DUNSTAN  S  171 

a  man  of  his  years  and  place  to  give  over  versifying." 
One  would  have  thought  that  the  beautiful  conclusion 
of  the  poem  might  have  protected  the  writer  from 
any  word  of  disparagement — 

"  And  if,  fair  soul,  not  with  first  Innocents 
Thy  station  be,  but  with  the  Penitents, 

When  thou  rememb'rest  what  sins  thou  didst  find 
Amongst  those  many  friends  now  left  behind, 
And  seest  such  sinners  as  they  are,  with  thee 
Got  thither  by  repentance,  let  it  be 
Thy  wish  to  wish  all  there,  to  wish  them  clean ; 
Wish  him  a  David,  her  a  Magdalen." 

A  few  days  after  Lord  Hamilton's  death  the  king 
became  alarmingly  ill  at  Theobalds.  The  physicians 
soon  pronounced  the  symptoms  very  grave,  and  on 
Sunday  the  27th  of  the  month  he  breathed  his  last; 
Prince  Charles,  his  successor,  being  at  his  side.  The 
new  king  was  proclaimed  the  same  day  at  Whitehall, 
and  immediately  started  for  London,  where  he  took  up 
his  residence  at  St.  James's  Palace.  Donne  received 
a  command  to  preach  in  the  chapel  there  next 
Sunday,  and  the  king  attended,  "  his  majesty  looking 
very  pale,  his  visage  being  the  true  glass  of  his  inward, 
as  well  as  his  accoutrements  of  external  mourning." 

Donne  chose  his  text  from  the  1 1  th  Psalm,  ver.  3  : 
"  If  the  foundations  be  destroyed,  what  can  the  righteous 
do?"  It  was  a  noble,  outspoken,  and  pathetic 
sermon.  It  was  not  published  till  some  months  after 
its  delivery,  and  has  never  been  reprinted,  though  it 
deserves  to  be  reckoned  among  the  preacher's  most 
ingenious  and  splendid  efforts.  The  body  of  James  I. 
was  removed  to  Denmark  House  on  the  4th  April. 


172  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

While  it  lay  there  in  state  Donne  was  again  called 
upon  to  preach  in  the  chapel  on  the  27th  April  "to 
the  nobility,"  who  composed  the  congregation. 

A  greater  contrast  than  this  beautiful  sermon 
/  offers  to  the  fulsome  and  almost  profane  oration 
which  the  Bishop  of  Lincoln  (Williams)  delivered  at 
Westminster  Abbey,  can  hardly  be  imagined. 

While  the  late  king's  body  was  lying  unburied  at 
Denmark  House,  the  plague  "  had  once  more  settled 
down  upon  the  capital."  Isolated  cases  had  been 
reported  on  the  bills  of  mortality  as  early  as  February, 
but  from  the  third  week  in  March  they  went  on  slowly 
increasing  in  numbers  week  by  week.  Parliament 
assembled  on  the  18th  June,  and  continued  sitting 
till  the  llth  July.  That  week  more  than  a  thousand 
deaths  in  eighty-two  infected  parishes  of  London  were 
attributed  to  the  plague  alone,  and,  the  outlook  being 
serious,  the  House  of  Commons  was  adjourned  till  the 
1st  of  August,  when  it  was  summoned  to  meet  at 
Oxford.  But  in  London  the  pestilence  increased  its 
area  and  its  ravages.  In  the  months  of  August  and 
September  upwards  of  26,000  poor  wretches  were 
carried  out  to  their  horrible  burial-places,  and  it  is 
stated  that  in  the  119  parishes  within  and  without 
the  walls  and  liberties  of  the  city,  during  the  year,  at 
least  41,313  fell  victims  to  the  awful  visitation.  In 
the  parish  of  Stepney  alone  there  were  nearly  500 
plague  deaths  in  a  single  week.  The  parish  of  St. 
Dunstan's,  though  one  of  the  smallest  in  the  city, 
suffered  frightfully,  and  no  less  than  642  deaths  are 
recorded  as  having  been  caused  by  the  plague  during 
this  year  in  that  little  area,  where  in  our  own  times 
it  is  thought  that  a  population  of  1860  souls  is 


DONNE  AT  ST.  DUNSTAN'S  173 

quite  overcrowded.  The  adjournment  of  the  House  of 
Commons  was  the  signal  for  a  general  exodus  from 
London.  By  the  middle  of  August  the  nobility,  the 
magistrates,  and  all  who  were  rich  enough  to  go  away, 
had  left  the  city  to  take  care  of  itself.  "  The  magis 
trates  in  desperation,"  writes  one,  "  have  abandoned 
every  care :  everyone  does  what  he  pleases,  and  the 
houses  of  merchants  who  have  left  London  are  broken 
into  and  robbed." 

Dr.  Meadows,  Eector  of  St.  Gabriel,  Fenchurch 
Street,  who  nobly  stuck  to  his  post,  though  a  man  no 
longer  young,  writing  on  the  1st  September,  says  : 
"  The  want  and  misery  is  the  greatest  here  that  ever 
any  man  living  knew :  no  trading  at  all ;  the  rich  all 
gone ;  housekeepers  and  apprentices  of  manual  trades 
begging  in  the  streets,  and  that  in  such  a  lamentable 
manner  as  will  make  the  hearts  of  the  strongest  to 
yearn."  In  one  of  Mead's  news-letters,  he  tells  how 
"  A  gentleman  who  on  Thursday  was  sennight  came 
through  the  city  at  one  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
resembled  the  face  thereof,  at  that  time,  to  the  ap 
pearance  it  useth  to  have  at  three  o'clock  in  the 
morning  in  the  month  of  June :  no  more  people 
stirring,  no  more  shops  open.  The  citizens  fled  away 
as  out  of  a  house  on  fire,  and  stuffed  their  pockets 
with  their  best  wares,  and  threw  themselves  into  the 
highways,  and  were  not  received  so  much  as  into 
barns,  and  perished  so ;  some  of  them  with  more 
money  about  them  than  would  have  bought  the 
village  where  they  died.  A  justice  of  the  peace  told 
me  of  one  that  had  died  so  with  £1400  about  him." 

It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  if  during  that  dreadful 
autumn  the  churches  were  closed  for  lack  of  congrega- 


174  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

tions ;  and  Donne  appears  to  have  remained  in  London 
till  the  end  of  November,  about  which  time  the 
pestilence  was  almost  at  its  worse,  and  it  is  probable 
that  the  report  of  his  death  which  was  circulated 
about  this  time  originated  in  his  having  kept  to  his 
post  through  the  worst  days  of  the  contagion,  and  the 
fact  that  he  had  not  been  seen  for  many  weeks  in  the 
great  houses  of  his  noble  friends  gave  credibility  to 
the  rumour.  In  a  letter  of  the  21st  December 
he  gives  the  following  account  of  himself  and  his 
movements  : — 

"  SIR, — Our  blessed  Saviour,  who  abounds  in  power 
and  goodness  towards  us  all,  bless  you,  and  your 
family,  with  blessings  proportioned  to  His  ends  in  you 
all,  and  bless  you  with  the  testimony  of  a  rectified 
conscience,  of  having  discharged  all  the  offices  of  a 
father,  towards  your  discreet  and  worthy  daughters, 
and  bless  them  with  a  satisfaction,  and  quiescence,  and 
more,  with  a  complacency  and  a  joy,  in  good  ends,  and 
ways  towards  them,  Amen. 

"  Your  man  brought  me  your  letter  of  the  8th  of 
December  this  21st  of  the  same,  to  Chelsea,  and  gives 
me  the  largeness,  till  Friday  to  send  a  letter  to  Paul's- 
house.  There  can  scarce  be  any  piece  of  that,  or 
of  those  things  whereof  you  require  light  from  me, 
that  is  not  come  to  your  knowledge,  by  some  clearer 
way,  between  the  time  of  your  letter  and  this.  Be 
sides,  the  report  of  my  death  hath  thus  much  of  truth 
in  it,  that  though  I  be  not  dead,  yet  I  am  buried. 
Within  a  few  weeks  after  I  immured  myself  in  this 
house,  the  infection  struck  into  the  town,  into  so  many 
houses  as  that  it  became  ill-manners  to  make  any 


DONNE  AT  ST.  DUNSTAN'S  175 

visits.  Therefore,  I  never  went  to  Knoll,1  nor  Han- 
worth,2  nor  Keyston,  nor  to  the  court,  since  the  court 
came  into  these  quarters,  nor  am  yet  come  to  London : 
therefore  I  am  little  able  to  give  you  account  of  high 
stages.  .  .  . 

"  Mr.  George  Herbert  is  here  at  the  receipt  of  your 
letter,  and  with  his  service  to  you,  tells  you  that  all  of 
Uvedall-house  are  well.  I  reserve  not  the  mention  of 
my  Lady  Huntingdon  to  the  end  of  my  letter,  as  grains 
to  make  the  gold  weight,  but  as  tincture  to  make  the 
better  gold,  when  you  find  room  to  intrude  so  poor 
and  impertinent  a  name,  as  mine  is,  in  her  presence. 
I  beseech  you  let  her  ladyship  know  that  she  hath 
sowed  her  favour  towards  me,  in  such  a  ground,  that  if 
I  be  grown  better  (as  I  hope  I  am)  her  favours  are 
grown  with  me,  and  though  they  were  great  when  she 
conferred  them,  yet  (if  I  mend  every  day)  they 
increase  in  me  every  day,  and  therefore  every  day 
multiply  my  thankfulness  towards  her  ladyship  :  say 
what  you  will  (if  you  like  not  this  expression)  that 
may  make  her  ladyship  know  that  I  shall  never  let 
fall  the  memory,  nor  the  just  valuation  of  her  noble 
favours  to  me,  nor  leave  them  unrequited  in  my 
exchequer,  which  is  the  blessings  of  God  upon  my 
prayers.  If  I  should  write  another  sheet,  I  should  be 
able  to  serve  your  curiosity  no  more  of  dukes  nor 
lords  nor  courts,  and  this  half  line  serves  to  tell  you 
that  I  am  truly 

"  Your  poor  friend  and  humble  servant  in  Christ 
Jesus,  J.  DONNE." 

This  letter  was  written  from  Lady  Danvers'  house, 

1  Knole  Park,  Lord  Dorset's  house.     2  Hanworth,  Lord  Carlisle's. 


176  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

where  he  was  evidently  staying ;  and  another  letter 
from  the  same  place,  written  somewhat  earlier,  gives 
us  some  dreadful  particulars  of  terror  and  demoralisa 
tion  which  the  plague  had  caused  among  the  Londoners. 
So  it  was  at  St.  Dunstan's,  where  the  mortality 
continued  its  ravages  even  after  it  had  begun  to  abate 
in  larger  parishes.  As  the  winter  drew  on  the  plague 
abated,  and  on  the  15th  January  1626  Donne 
preached  at  St.  Dunstan's  on  Ex.  xii.  30:  "  For  there 
ivas  not  a  house  where  there  was  not  one  dead."  He 
calls  it  "  The  first  sermon  after  our  dispersion  by  the 
sickness."  It  was  a  pathetic  and  impressive  sermon, 
elaborate  as  usual,  but  admirably  suited  to  the 
occasion.  It  is  one  of  the  few  sermons  preached  at 
St.  Dunstan's  that  Donne  thought  it  advisable  to 
write  out  fully  before  delivering.  He  knew  that  on 
such  an  occasion  much  would  be  expected  from  him, 
and  a  sense  of  responsibility  doubtless  led  him  to 
bestow  upon  it  more  than  usual  pains  and  careful 
preparation.  Twelve  times  at  least,  during  1626, 
Donne  was  called  upon  to  preach  what  he  calls 
"  solemn  sermons  to  great  auditories  at  Paul's  and  at 
court."  All  save  one  are  to  be  found  in  the  folios  or 
the  collected  edition  of  his  works. 

One  has  somehow  escaped  notice.  It  was 
preached  before  Charles  I.  at  Whitehall,  and  was 
immediately  published  by  command  of  the  king.  The 
text1  (Isa.  1.  1)  was  a  strange  one,  and  gave  very 
little  promise  of  what  was  coming:  the  sermon  was  a 

1  "  Thus  saith  the  Lord,  Where  is  the  bill  of  your  mother's  divorce 
ment,  whom  1  have  put  away  ?  Or  which  of  my  creditors  is  it  to  ivhom 
I  have  sold  you?  Behold,  for  your  iniquities  have  ye  sold  yourselves, 
and  for  your  transgressions  is  your  mother  put  away." 


DONNE  AT  ST.  DUNSTAN  S  177 

vehement  denunciation  of  the  hateful  doctrine  of 
Reprobation,  which  some  of  the  extreme  Calvinists 
were  talking  much  about  at  this  time,  and  which 
Donne  abhorred  and  frequently  lifted  up  his  voice 
against.  As  the  sermon  is  a  very  characteristic  one 
and  is  very  little  known,  I  venture  to  dwell  upon  it 
here  at  some  length.  "  In  this  text,"  he  says,  "  there 
are  two  parts :  God's  discharge  from  all  imputation 
of  tyranny,  and  man's  discharge  from  all  necessity  of 
perishing."  The  mother  is  the  Church,  and  God's 
putting  away  of  this  mother  is  the  leaving  her  to  her 
self.  "  That  Church  which  now  enjoys  so  abundantly 
Truth  and  Unity  may  be  perished  with  heresy  and 
wounded  with  schism,  and  yet  God  be  free  from  all 
imputation  of  tyranny.  .  .  .  'Tis  true  there  may  be  a 
selling,  there  may  be  a  putting  away,  but  hath  not 
God  reserved  to  Himself  a  power  of  revocation  in  both 
— in  all  cases  ? 

"  Where  is  the  bill  of  thy  mother's  divorcement — 
Ubi  libellus  ?  Where  is  this  bill  ?  Upon  what  do  ye 
ground  this  jealousy  and  suspicion  in  God  that  He 
should  divorce  you  ?  It  must  be  God's  whole  book, 
and  not  a  few  misunderstood  sentences  out  of  that 
book,  that  must  try  thee.  .  .  .  Those  bills  of  divorce 
ment  were  to  be  authentically  sealed —  Ubi  iste  libellus  ? 
Hath  thy  imaginary  bill  of  divorce  and  everlasting 
separation  from  God  any  seal  from  Him  ?  God  hath 
given  thee  seals  of  His  mercy  in  both  His  sacraments, 
but  seals  of  reprobation  at  first,  or  of  irrevocable 
separation  now,  there  are  none  from  God.  .  .  .  No 
calamity — not  temporal ;  no  !  not  spiritual.  No  dark 
ness  in  the  understanding,  no  scruple  in  the  conscience, 
no  perplexity  in  the  resolution.  Not  a  sudden  death, 

12 


178  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONXE 

not  a  shameful  death,  not  a  stupid,  not  a  raging  death, 
must  be  to  thyself  by  the  way,  or  may  be  to  us, 
who  may  see  thine  end,  an  evidence,  a  seal  of  eternal 
reprobation  or  of  final  separation.  ...  If  the  bill 
were  interlined  or  blotted  or  dropt,  the  bill  was 
void —  Ubi  libellus  ?  What  place  of  Scripture  soever 
thou  pretend,  that  place  is  interlined — interlined  by 
the  Spirit  of  God  Himself  with  conditions  and  limita 
tions  and  provisions, — '  If  thou  return,5  '  if  thou 
repent,' — and  that  interlining  destroys  the  bill.  And 
canst  thou  think  that  that  God  who  married  thee  in 
the  house  of  dust,  and  married  thee  in  the  house  of 
infirmity,  and  divorced  thee  not  then  (He  made  thee 
not  no  creature,  nor  He  made  thee  not  no  man), 
having  now  married  thee  in  the  house  of  power,  and 
of  peace,  in  the  body  of  His  Son,  the  Church,  will  now 
divorce  thee  ?  Lastly,  to  end  this  consideration  of 
divorces,  if  the  bill  were  interlined  or  blotted  or 
dropt,  the  bill  was  void — Ubi  libellus  ?  What 
place  of  Scripture  soever  thou  pretend,  that  place 
is  interlined — interlined  by  the  Spirit  of  God  Himself 
with  conditions  and  limitations  and  provisions, — *  If 
thou  repent,  if  thou  return/ — and  that  interlining 
destroys  the  bill. 

"  Look  also  if  this  bill  be  not  dropt  upon  and 
blotted;  the  venom  of  the  serpent  is  dropt  upon 
it,  the  wormwood  of  thy  desperation  is  dropt  upon 
it,  the  gall  of  thy  melancholy  is  dropt  upon  it- ;  and 
that  voids  the  bill.  If  thou  canst  not  discern  these 
drops  before,  drop  upon  it  now  ;  drop  the  tears  of  true 
compunction,  drop  the  blood  of  thy  Saviour ;  and  that 
voids  the  bill ;  and  through  that  spectacle,  the  blood 
of  thy  Saviour,  look  upon  that  bill,  and  thou  shalt 


DONNE  AT  ST.  DUNSTAN'S  179 

see  that  that  bill  was  nailed  to  the  cross  when  He 
was  nailed,  and  torn  when  His  body  was  torn ;  and 
that  hath  cancelled  the  bill." 

Another  sermon  of  Donne's  during  this  year  was 
that  which  he  preached  at  the  funeral  of  Sir  William 
Cokayne,  who  was  buried  in  St.  Paul's  on  the  12th  of 
December.  Sir  William  was  a  London  merchant  who 
had  accumulated  an  enormous  fortune,  and  was  one  of 
the  richest  men  in  England.  His  lady  was  Mary, 
daughter  of  Eichard  Morris,  who  had  been  Master  of 
the  Ironmongers'  Company  in  1588,  i.e.  fourteen  years 
before  Donne's  father  had  served  the  same  honourable 
office.  Her  ladyship  and  Donne  were  born  in  the 
same  year.  In  childhood  they  must  have  been 
playmates,  for  their  respective  homes  were  hardly  more 
than  a  bow-shot  apart ;  but  whether  anything  in  their 
later  lives  had  brought  them  together  again  we  are  not 
told.  What  we  do  know  is  that  during  Donne's  last 
years,  and  when  the  hand  of  death  was  upon  him,  he 
was  corresponding  on  very  close  and  affectionate  terms 
with  the  forsaken  wife  of  the  eccentric  Thomas 
Cokayne  and  mother  of  Sir  Aston  Cokayne,  the  poet ; 
but  there  is  nothing  to  show  that  there  were  any  very 
cordial  relations  between  these  Cokaynes  and  the  far 
more  prosperous  branch  of  the  same  family.  In 
preaching  Sir  William  Cokayne's  funeral  sermon 
Donne  speaks  of  him  as  a  personal  friend.  He  chose 
for  his  text  John  xi.  21:  "  Lord,  if  Thou  hadst  been 
here,  my  brother  had  not  died"  The  sermon  is  a  very 
interesting  one  for  the  little  incidents  which  it  gives 
us  in  the  life  of  the  dead  man  which  are  illustrative 
of  the  manners  of  the  time ;  and  one  passage  indicates 
that  the  choir  of  St.  Paul's  had  continued  to  be 


180  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

reserved  for  the  prebendaries  and  clergy  exclusively, 
long  after  the  changes  brought  about  by  Henry  viu. 
Speaking  of  the  dignified  and  devout  bearing  of  the 
City  magnates  during  their  attendance  at  the  cathedral, 
Donne  says :  "  And  truly  .  .  .  that  reverence  that 
they  use  in  this  place,  when  they  come  hither,  is  that 
that  makes  us  who  have  now  the  administration  of 
this  choir,  glad  that  our  predecessors,  but  a  very  few 
years  before  our  time  (and  not  before  all  our  times), 
admitted  these  honourable  and  worshipful  persons  of  this 
city  to  sit  in  this  choir,  so  as  they  do  upon  Sundays ;  the 
Church  receives  an  honour  in  it ;  but  the  honour  is 
more  in  their  reverence  than  in  their  presence." 

The  two  points  upon  which  Donne  dwells  very 
eloquently  in  this  sermon  are — "  First,  that  there  is 
nothing  in  this  world  perfect,  and  then  that,  such  as 
it  is,  there  is  nothing  constant,  nothing  permanent. 
.  .  .  What  one  thing  do  we  know  perfectly  ?  Almost 
all  knowledge  is  rather  like  a  child  that  is  embalmed 
to  make  a  mummy,  than  that  that  is  nursed  to  make 
a  man ;  rather  conserved  in  the  stature  of  the  first  age, 
than  grown  to  be  greater ;  and  if  there  be  any 
addition  to  knowledge,  it  is  rather  a  new  knowledge 
than  a  greater  knowledge ;  rather  a  singularity  in  a 
desire  of  proposing  something  that  was  not  known  at 
all  before,  than  an  improving,  an  advancing,  a  multiply 
ing  of  former  inceptions ;  and  by  that  means  no 
knowledge  comes  to  be  perfect.  .  .  . 

"  But  when  we  consider  with  a  religious  seriousness 
the  manifold  weaknesses  of  the  strongest  devotions 
in  time  of  prayer,  it  is  a  sad  consideration.  I  throw 
myself  down  in  my  chamber,  and  I  call  in  and  invite 
God  and  His  angels  thither  ;  and  when  they  are  there, 


DONNE  AT  ST.  DUNSTAN'S  181 

I  neglect  God  and  His  angels  for  the  noise  of  a  fly, 
for  the  rattling  of  a  coach,  for  the  whining  of  a  door ; 
I  talk  on,  in  the  same  posture  of  prayer  ;  eyes  lifted  up, 
knees  bowed  down,  as  though  I  prayed  to  God ;  and  if 
God  should  ask  me  when  I  thought  last  of  God  in 
that  prayer  I  cannot  tell :  sometimes  I  find  that  I 
forgot  what  I  was  about,  but  when  I  began  to  forget 
it,  I  cannot  tell.  A  memory  of  yesterday's  pleasures, 
a  fear  of  to-morrow's  dangers,  a  straw  under  my  knee, 
a  noise  in  mine  ear,  a  chimera  in  my  brain,  troubles  me 
in  my  prayer.  So  certainly  is  there  nothing,  nothing 
in  spiritual  things,  perfect  in  this  world.  .  .  .  Weak 
nesses  there  were  in  those  holy  and  devout  sisters  of 
Lazarus.  .  .  .  Our  devotions  do  not  the  less  bear  us 
upright  in  the  sight  of  God,  because  they  have  some 
declinations  towards  natural  affections.  God  doth 
easilier  pardon  some  neglecting  of  His  grace  when  it 
proceeds  out  of  a  tenderness,  or  may  be  excused  out 
of  good  nature,  than  any  presuming  upon  His  grace. 

"  And  since  we  are  in  an  action  of  preparing  this 
dead  brother  of  ours  to  that  state  ...  so  shall  we 
dismiss  you  with  an  occasional  inverting  the  text  from 
passion  in  Martha's  mouth  to  joy  in  ours — '  Lord,  because 
Thou  wast  here,  our  brother  is  not  dead.' 

"  In  the  presence  of  God  we  lay  him  down.  In  the 
power  of  God  he  shall  rise.  In  the  person  of  Christ 
he  is  risen  already.  And  so  into  the  same  hands  that 
have  received  his  soul,  we  commend  his  body ;  beseech 
ing  His  blessed  Spirit  that  ...  for  all  our  sakes,  but 
especially  for  His  own  glory,  He  will  be  pleased  to 
hasten  the  consummation  of  all,  in  that  kingdom  which 


182  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

that   Son   of   God   hath   purchased  for   us,  with   the 
inestimable  price  of  His  incorruptible  blood." 

Donne  closed  the  year  1626  by  preaching  his  usual 
Christmas  Day  sermon  at  St.  Paul's,  and  he  began  the 
next  year  by  preaching  there  one  of  his  prebend 
sermons  in  January. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

A   YEAR   OF   GLOOM 

WHEN  the  year  1627  opened  there  was  only  one 
prominent  divine  in  England  who  can  in  any  sense  be 
called  a  great  preacher ;  and  that  one  was  the  Dean  of 
St.  Paul's.  Bishop  Andrewes  died  in  September  1626. 
Among  the  bishops  that  survived  there  was  not  a  man 
who  had  any  popular  gifts  or  who  attracted  any  large 
following.  Abbot  was  always  solemn  and  dull.  Laud 
was  always  hard  and  dry.  Montagu,  not  yet  a  bishop, 
was  a  controversialist  pure  and  simple.  Williams  was 
impossible.  Ussher  only  appeared  in  England  at 
wide  intervals ;  his  immense  reputation  had  not  yet 
travelled  far  from  Ireland,  though  scholars  could  not 
speak  of  him  too  highly.  Sanderson  had  not  yet 
attracted  the  notice  of  Laud,  and,  sound  and  solid  as 
his  sermons  were,  he  was  the  first  of  our  eminent 
theologians  who  never  trusted  himself  in  the  pulpit 
without  his  manuscript.  Such  a  mere  reader  was  not 
likely  to  be  run  after  by  the  multitude.  As  for 
Joseph  Hall,  who  was  consecrated  Bishop  of  Exeter 
this  year,  he  was  everything  except  great:  pre 
eminently  clever,  ingenious  to  a  fault,  a  born 
journalist  with  a  graceful  pen  and  a  fluent  tongue, 
he  was  never  at  a  loss  for  a  retort  or  an  epigram ; 
but  whereas  Andrewes  declared  of  himself  that 

183 


184  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

"  whenever  he  preached  twice  in  a  day  he  prated 
once,"  Hall  boasts  that  his  regular  practice  at 
Waltham  was  to  preach  three  sermons  every  week — 
and  we  may  be  sure  it  was  always  very  pleasant 
prattle.  At  Cambridge  there  was  one  young  man 
of  whom  the  world  would  hear  something  by  and 
by,  but  Jeremy  Taylor  was  now  only  in  his  teens. 

Donne  as  a  preacher  stood  alone.  It  was  said  of 
him  that  he  was  always  growing  more  impressive  and 
more  eloquent  as  he  grew  older — the  truth  being  that 
he  became  ever  more  and  more  absorbed  in  the  duties 
of  his  sacred  office,  throwing  his  whole  heart  into  it, 
rising  to  every  occasion  on  which  demands  were  made 
upon  him,  always  doing  his  best  as  an  enthusiast  with 
a  mission,  who  felt  that  he  would  have  to  give  account 
for  the  talent  that  was  committed  to  him. 

We  moderns  have  lost  touch  with  the  pulpit  oratory 
of  the  seventeenth  century,  and  it  is  difficult  for  those 
who  have  never  acquired  any  familiarity  with  the 
sermons  of  the  Jacobean  era  to  understand  the  effect 
they  produced  upon  mixed  congregations.  In  the  way 
Holy  Scripture  was  dealt  with  by  the  preachers  of 
that  day,  there  was,  to  our  taste,  a  quite  fantastic 
ingenuity  that  we  are  apt  to  think  meretricious. 

These  men  handled  Holy  Scripture  in  their  sermons 
after  a  method  which  had  the  sanction  of  ages  of  tra 
ditionary  interpretation.  Whatever  could  be  read 
into  a  text,  or  whatever  could  be  drawn  out  of  it, 
was  regarded  as  perfectly  legitimate.  It  was  done 
with  such  consummate  rhetorical  art  that  congrega 
tions  were  dazzled  and  bewildered :  they  took  it  all 
very  seriously ;  we  are  inclined  to  regard  it  as  mere 
trickery,  and  often  find  it  hard  to  believe  that  there 


A  YEAR  OF  GLOOM  185 

was  not  a  sophistical  unreality  about  it  all.  Never 
theless,  history  shows  that  in  every  age  the  orators 
have  reached  the  hearts  and  consciences  of  the 
thousands,  where  the  logicians  have  hardly  convinced 
the  tens.  The  cold  light  of  dialectics  leaves  men 
where  it  found  them, — "  Ice  makes  no  conflagration !  " 
When  argument  has  done  its  utmost,  then  comes 
the  fervid  enthusiast  with  his  flaming  sword  that 
turns  every  way,  and  at  its  touch  the  unreasoning 
emotions  are  fanned  into  a  glowing  heat.  The 
startled  multitude  never  doubts  that  the  fire  has 
been  kindled  by  a  spark  from  the  altar  of  God.  It 
takes  the  prophet  at  his  own  estimation,  and  accepts 
his  premises  without  demur,  and  in  those  premises 
astounding  conclusions  are  involved.  Granted  that 
every  syllable  and  every  letter  in  the  printed  pages 
of  the  Old  Testament  and  of  the  New  found  its  place 
there  by  divine  inspiration  and  carries  with  it  a 
divine  authority,  and  what  a  tremendous  power  the 
preacher  had  at  his  disposal !  Fortified  with  that,  he 
became  at  once  a  prophet  armed  with  a  message  from 
the  Most  High ;  the  torrent  of  denunciation,  ex 
postulation,  warning,  pleading,  menace,  or  assurance 
and  encouragement  poured  forth  resistless  from  lips 
that  spake  the  very  truth ;  the  sinner  might  be 
scared,  the  saint  be  lifted  up  to  the  seventh  heaven, — 
neither  presumed  to  criticise.  "  Yea  !  hath  not  God 
said  ? " 

What  gave  a  double  force  to  Donne's  preaching 
was,  that  everyone  knew  he  had  no  ambition  for  any 
higher  preferment — that  he  was  giving  his  best  to 
the  ministry  of  the  Word — that  he  was  labouring 
very  much  more  than  he  was  required  to  do.  The 


186  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

noble  earnestness  of  his  manner,  the  wide  sym 
pathy  and  enormous  learning,  the  sound  judgment 
and  large-hearted  tolerance,  won  men's  confidence ; 
and  the  bursts  of  eloquence  that  startled  his 
hearers  so  often  when  they  came  quite  unexpectedly 
upon  them,  attracted  crowds  to  listen  whenever  it 
was  announced  that  he  was  going  to  appear  in  the 
pulpit.  But  no  man  in  so  prominent  a  position  as  he, 
could  hope  to  find  all  his  audience  friendly.  There 
were  gainsayers  and  critics  who  were  on  the  watch 
for  him ;  and  never,  whether  in  politics  or  religion, 
were  the  factions  more  embittered  against  one  another, 
nor  was  it  ever  more  difficult  to  avoid  giving  offence 
when  a  man  believed  with  all  his  heart,  and  felt  that  he 
had  a  message  to  deliver  which  he  could  not  keep  back. 

It  was  in  this  year,  1627,  that  that  incident 
occurred  which  Izaak  Walton  has  strangely  ante 
dated  by  some  four  or  five  years,  and  when  he  tells 
us  that  his  friend  "  was  once,  and  but  once,  clouded 
with  the  king's  displeasure."  The  circumstances 
were  these : — 

Dr.  Eichard  Montagu,  a  Cambridge  man,  and  one  of 
the  most  acute  and  learned  scholars  of  his  day,  had 
during  the  last  few  years  of  King  James's  reign  made 
himself  famous  by  advocating  in  a  very  caustic  and 
trenchant  style  a  somewhat  novel  view  of  the  position 
which  he  claimed  for  the  Church  of  England  as  a 
true  branch  of  the  Catholic  Church,  whose  doctrines 
were  opposed  to  the  teaching  of  the  Church  of  Home 
on  the  one  hand,  and  equally  opposed  to  those  of 
Geneva  on  the  other.  He  found  himself,  as  a  matter 
of  course,  the  object  of  rancorous  denunciations  on 
the  part  of  the  Calvinist  sectaries  and  the  Puritan 


A  YEAR  OF  GLOOM  187 

clergy ;  while  their  allies  among  the  laity  were 
scarcely  less  bitterly  opposed  to  him  for  his  vigorous 
support  of  extreme  views  of  the  royal  prerogative. 
On  the  llth  February  1626  a  conference  was 
arranged  at  Buckingham  House  for  the  discussion  of 
the  questions  at  issue  between  Montagu  and  his 
opponents.  Dr.  White,  Dean  of  Carlisle,  undertook 
to  defend  what  may  be  called  the  High  Church  views. 
Morton,  Donne's  old  and  dear  friend,  now  Bishop  of 
Lichfield,  and  Dr.  Preston,  who  had  succeeded  Donne 
as  Preacher  at  Lincoln's  Inn,  were  chosen  to  assail 
those  views  from  the  Low  Church  side.  The  confer 
ence,  as  usual,  came  to  an  abortive  termination ;  and 
Charles  I.,  tired  of  the  business,  issued  a  proclamation 
forbidding  any  further  disputation  on  the  abstruse 
questions  under  discussion.  A  year  before  this, 
Montagu  had  written  his  famous  Appello  Ccesarem ; 
and  when  Archbishop  Abbot,  after  reading  the  work, 
had  stoutly  refused  to  license  it,  it  was  printed  in 
spite  of  him,  under  the  imprimatur  of  Dr.  White,  the 
aforesaid  Dean  of  Carlisle. 

In  April  1627  Donne  was  appointed  to  preach  at 
Whitehall  before  the  king.  Laud,  then  Bishop  of 
Bath  and  Wells,  was  in  attendance.  He  was,  as 
might  have  been  expected,  the  strongest  of  all 
Montagu's  supporters,  and  he  was  daily  gaining  more 
and  more  influence  over  Charles.  He  could  hardly 
have  helped  feeling  some  suspicion  of  Donne,  who 
was  on  intimate  terms  with  Abbot,  and  was  the  much- 
loved  friend  of  Morton,  with  whom  he  had  been  a 
fellow-labourer  in  his  theological  studies  for  well-nigh 
thirty  years.  What  line  would  the  author  of  the 
Pseudo  Martyr  take — the  divine  who  had  been 


188  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

honoured  with  a  medal  by  the  Synod  of  Dort  eight 
years  before  ? 

Donne  chose  as  his  text  Mark  iv.  24 :  "  Take 
heed  what  ye  hear."  It  is  difficult  to  conceive  how 
any  unprejudiced  hearer  could  have  been  able  to 
discover  ground  for  offence  in  the  beautiful  and  wise 
sermon  which  he  preached ;  but  where  men  come  to 
find  fault,  they  will  not  fail  to  discover  it.  It  is 
more  charitable,  perhaps,  to  suppose  that  some  of 
those  present  may  have  honestly  misunderstood  the 
preacher,  but,  after  carefully  reading  the  sermon 
several  times,  I  can  find  only  one  passage  that  may 
have  hurt  the  prejudices  or  irritated  the  susceptibilities 
of  some  of  the  audience  as  possibly  reflecting  upon 
themselves : — 

"  When  the  apostles  came  in  their  peregrinations 
to  a  new  state,  to  a  new  court,  to  Rome  itself,  they 
did  not  inquire,  '  How  stands  the  Emperor  affected  to 
Christ  and  to  the  preaching  of  the  gospel  ?  Is  there 
not  a  sister  or  a  wife  that  might  be  wrought  upon 
to  further  the  preaching  of  Christ  ?  Are  there  not 
some  persons  great  in  power  and  place  that  might  be 
content  to  hold  a  party  together  by  admitting  the 
preaching  of  Christ  ? '  This  was  not  their  way.  All 
divinity  that  is  bespoken,  and  not  ready  made,  fitted 
to  certain  turns  and  not  to  general  ends,  and  all 
divines  that  have  their  souls  and  consciences  so 
disposed  as  their  libraries  may  be, — at  that  end  stand 
Papists,  and  at  that  end  Protestants,  and  he  in  the 
middle,  as  near  one  as  the  other, — all  these  have  a 
brackish  taste  as  a  river  hath  that  comes  near 
the  sea;  so  have  they  in  coming  near  the  sea  of 
Rome." 


A  YEAE  OF  GLOOM  189 

Whether  this  passage  were  the  one  that  was  found 
fault  with  or  not,  Donne  had  scarcely  got  home  to  the 
deanery  before  he  was  startled  by  learning  that  he 
had  grievously  displeased  the  king.  The  intelligence 
came  to  him  in  a  letter  from  Sir  Eobert  Carr.  In 
acknowledging  this,  Donne  writes  as  follows : — 

"  A  few  hours  after  I  had  the  honour  of  your  letter, 
I  had  another  from  my  Lord  of  Bath  and  Wells, 
commanding  from  the  king  a  copy  of  my  sermon.  I 
am  in  preparations  of  that,  with  diligence,  yet  this 
morning  I  waited  upon  his  lordship,  and  laid  up  in 
him  this  truth,  that  of  the  Bishop  of  Canterbury's 
sermon,  to  this  hour,  I  never  heard  syllable,  nor  what 
way,  nor  upon  what  points  he  went :  and  for  mine,  it 
was  put  into  that  very  order,  in  which  I  delivered  it, 
more  than  two  months  since.  Freely  to  you  I  say, 
I  would  I  were  a  little  more  guilty :  only  mine 
innocency  makes  me  afraid.  I  hoped  for  the  king's 
approbation  heretofore  in  many  of  my  sermons,  and  I 
have  had  it ;  but  yesterday  I  came  very  near  looking 
for  thanks,  for  in  my  life  I  was  never  in  any  one 
piece  so  studious  of  his  service ;  therefore,  exceptions 
being  taken,  and  displeasure  kindled  at  this,  I  am 
afraid  it  was  rather  brought  thither,  than  met  there. 
If  you  know  any  more,  fit  for  me  (because  I  hold  that 
unfit  for  me,  to  appear  in  my  master's  sight  as  long 
as  this  cloud  hangs,  and  therefore  this  day  forbear 
my  ordinary  waitings),  I  beseech  you  to  intimate  it  to 

"  Your  very  humble  and  very  thankful  servant, 

"  J.  DONNE." 

The  next  letter  enters  into  further  particulars  : — 


190  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

To  the  Right  Honourable  SIR  EGBERT  CARR,  at  Court.1 

"  SIR, — I  was  this  morning  at  your  door,  somewhat 
early ;  and  I  am  put  into  such  a  distaste  of  my  last 
sermon,  as  that  I  dare  not  practise  any  part  of  it,  and 
therefore  though  I  said  then,  that  we  are  bound  to 
speak  aloud,  though  we  awaken  men,  and  make  them 
froward,  yet  after  two  or  three  modest  knocks  at  the 
door,  I  went  away.  Yet  I  understood  after,  the  king 
was  gone  abroad,  and  thought  you  might  be  gone 
with  him.  I  came  to  give  you  an  account  of  that, 
which  this  does  as  well.  I  have  now  put  into  my 
Lord  of  Bath  and  Wells'  hands  the  sermon  faithfully 
exscribed.  I  beseech  you  be  pleased  to  hearken  far 
ther  after  it ;  I  am  still  upon  my  jealousy,  that  the 
king  brought  thither  some  disaffection  towards  me, 
grounded  upon  some  other  demerit  of  mine,  and  took 
it  not  from  the  sermon.  For,  as  Cardinal  Cusanus  writ 
a  book  Cribratio  Alcorani,  I  have  cribrated,  and  re- 
cribrated,  and  post-cribrated  the  sermon,  and  must 
necessarily  say,  the  king  who  hath  let  fall  his  eye 
upon  some  of  my  poems,  never  saw,  of  mine,  a  hand, 
or  an  eye,  or  an  affection,  set  down  with  so  much 
study,  and  diligence,  and  labour  of  syllables,  as  in  this 
sermon  I  expressed  those  two  points,  which  I  take  so 
much  to  conduce  to  his  service,  the  imprinting  of 
persuasibility  and  obedience  in  the  subject,  and  the 
breaking  of  the  bed  of  whisperers,  by  casting  in  a 
bone,  of  making  them  suspect  and  distrust  one  an 
other.  I  remember  I  heard  the  old  king  say  of  a 
good  sermon,  that  he  thought  the  preacher  never  had 
thought  of  his  sermon,  till  he  spoke  it ;  it  seemed  to 

1  About  1624.— ED. 


A  YEAK  OF  GLOOM  191 

him  negligently  and  extemporally  spoken.  And  I 
knew  that  he  had  weighed  every  syllable,  for  half  a 
year  before,  which  made  me  conclude,  that  the  king 
had  before  some  prejudice  upon  him.  So,  the  best 
of  my  hope  is,  that  some  over  bold  allusions,  or  ex 
pressions  in  the  way,  might  divert  his  majesty,  from 
vouchsafing  to  observe  the  frame  and  purpose  of  the 
sermon.  When  he  sees  the  general  scope,  I  hope  his 
goodness  will  pardon  collateral  escapes.  I  entreated 
the  bishop  to  ask  his  majesty,  whether  his  displeasure 
extended  so  far,  as  that  I  should  forbear  waiting,  and 
appearing  in  his  presence ;  and  I  had  a  return,  that  I 
might  come.  Till  I  had  that,  I  would  not  offer  to  put 
myself  under  your  roof.  To-day  I  come  for  that  purpose, 
to  say  prayers.  And  if,  in  any  degree,  my  health 
suffer  it,  I  shall  do  so,  to-morrow.  If  anything  fall 
into  your  observation  before  that  (because  the  bishop 
is  likely  to  speak  to  the  king  of  it,  perchance,  this 
night),  if  it  amount  to  such  an  increase  of  displeasure, 
as  that  it  might  be  unfit  for  me  to  appear,  I  beseech 
you  afford  me  the  knowledge.  Otherwise,  I  am  likely 
to  inquire  of  you  personally,  to-morrow  before  nine  in 
the  morning,  and  to  put  into  your  presence  then, 

"  Your  very  humble,  and  very  true,  and  very  honest 
servant  to  God  and  the  king  and  you, 

"  J.  DONNE. 

"  I  writ  yesterday  to  my  Lord  Duke,  by  my  Lord 
Carlisle,  who  assured  me  of  a  gracious  acceptation  of 
my  putting  myself  in  his  protection." 

The  king  had  no  sooner  read  the  sermon  and 
listened  to  the  explanation  offered  than  Donne  was  at 
once  restored  to  favour,  and  for  the  remainder  of  his 


192  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

life  continued  to  receive  assurances  of  the  confidence 
and  esteem  which  Charles  felt  for  his  favourite  chap 
lain.  Donne's  last  sermon  was  preached  before  the 
king  at  Whitehall,  a  few  weeks  before  his  death,  as 
we  shall  see  in  the  sequel. 

In  June  of  this  year  he  lost  one  of  his  oldest  and 
most  faithful  friends,  Lady  Danvers,  better  known  by 
the  name  of  Magdalen  Herbert.  Her  first  husband, 
Eichard  Herbert  of  Montgomery  Castle,  died  in  1596, 
leaving  her  a  widow  with  ten  children,  of  whom 
Edward,  Lord  Herbert  of  Cherbury,  was  the  eldest, 
and  the  saintly  George  Herbert,  the  fifth  son.  She 
remained  a  widow  for  twelve  years,  and  then  married, 
in  1608,  Sir  John  Danvers,  who  was  little  more  than 
twenty  years  old.  He  was  a  young  man  of  great 
wealth,  and  kept  up  a  style  of  living  at  Danvers 
House,  Chelsea,  which  even  in  that  age  was  looked 
upon  as  extraordinarily  sumptuous.  Here  Donne  was 
a  frequent  visitor,  and  always  welcome.  Lady  Dan 
vers  was  noted  for  her  exemplary  life  and  bountiful 
charities.  She  had  been  in  failing  health  for  some 
time,  and  in  May  1627  her  son  George  Herbert  was 
summoned  to  her  side.  She  lingered  on  till  the  first 
week  in  June,  when  she  died,  and  was  buried  in 
Chelsea  Church  on  the  8th  of  that  month,  without 
the  usual  sermon.  Donne  had  been  asked  to  perform 
this  duty,  but,  being  "  bound  by  pre-obligations  and 
pre-contracts  to  his  own  profession,"  it  had  to  be  post 
poned  till  the  1st  July,  when  an  immense  congregation 
assembled  to  hear  the  great  preacher. 

Before  giving  out  his  text  [2  Peter  iii.  13]  he 
offered  up  one  of  those  glorious  acts  of  prayer  and 
adoration  with  which  on  several  occasions  he  prefaced 


A  YEAE  OF  GLOOM  193 

his  most  notable  sermons.  The  opening  words  must 
have  come  upon  those  that  heard  them  with  a  surprise 
that  could  never  be  forgotten : — 

"  0  eternal  and  most  glorious  God !  enable  us  in 
life  and  death  seriously  to  consider  the  price  of  a 
soul.  .  .  .  Suffer  us  not,  therefore,  0  Lord,  so  to 
undervalue  ourselves,  nay,  so  to  impoverish  Thee,  as 
to  give  away  those  souls,  Thy  souls,  Thy  dear  and 
precious  souls,  for  nothing  ! " 

But  no  words  can  adequately  express  the  sublime 
elevation  of  tone  in  this  wonderful  prayer — the 
majestic  sweep  and  rhythm  of  the  sentences  as  they 
follow  one  another,  the  music  of  the  words,  and  the 
awful  solemnity  of  thought  and  feeling  which  pervade 
this  lofty  utterance  of  faith  and  aspiration. 

To  have  heard  the  writer  of  that  prayer  offering  it 
up  himself  must  have  been  an  event  in  any  man's 
life.  I  do  not  believe  that  any  mere  reading  it  with 
the  eye  could  suffice  to  convey  its  mysterious  power 
and  significance,  any  more  than  the  reading  the  score 
of  one  of  Beethoven's  symphonies  could  reveal  the 
profounder  messages  which  the  great  master's  inspira 
tion  is  meant  to  convey  to  the  inner  man. 

The  sermon  itself  can  only  be  described  as  magnifi 
cent.  The  pathos  of  the  occasion,  the  affectionate 
gratitude  of  the  preacher,  the  sense  of  loss  and  be 
reavement,  the  love  that  he  bore  towards  those  that 
grieved,  the  memories  of  the  long  years  that  were  the 
treasures  of  the  past,  and  the  faith  and  hope  which 
claimed  the  great  joy  of  the  future, — if  all  these 
would  not  lift  up  the  poet  preacher  to  a  supreme 
effort  of  something  like  inspired  eloquence,  would 
he  have  been  what  he  was  ?  The  sermon  was  at  once 


194  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

called  for,  and  was  immediately  published  in  a  little 
12mo  volume.  It  is  one  of  the  rarest  of  books. 
Happily,  it  has  been  reprinted  more  than  once,  and 
there  is  a  copy  of  it  in  its  original  form  in  the  library 
of  the  British  Museum. 

Within  a  few  days  of  the  death  of  Lady  Danvers, 
Donne  lost  another  of  those  generous  and  devoted 
friends  who  had  stood  by  him  so  nobly  in  the  years  of 
difficulty  and  anxiety  when  he  was  vainly  looking  out 
for  some  post  at  court.  Lucy,  Countess  of  Bedford, 
who  had  been  living  in  retirement  at  Moor  Park  in 
Hertfordshire,  and  there  ministering  tenderly  at  the 
side  of  her  much -afflicted  husband,  died  on  the  31st 
of  May,  having  survived  the  earl  just  three  weeks. 
She  had  been  a  great  sufferer  from  a  complication  of 
disorders  for  some  years  past.  The  old  brilliant  gaiety 
had  faded,  the  old  beauty  had  passed,  but  faith  and 
trust  had  not  left  her,  though  she  had  almost  become 
forgotten  by  the  world  in  which  she  had  once  been  so 
conspicuous  a  figure.  About  this  time,  too,  Sir  Henry 
Goodere  died.  He  had  fallen  into  poverty,  none  the  less 
distressing  because  he  had  spent  his  fortune  improvi- 
dently,  and  had  never  received  a  post  at  court  in 
return  for  all  his  attendance  at  the  old  plays  and 
pageants ;  but  I  have  no  doubt  that  it  was  to  him  that 
Izaak  Walton  refers  when  he  says  that  Donne  had 
the  happiness  of  being  able  in  his  later  years  to  help 
with  the  gift  of  £100  one  special  friend  of  his,  "  whom 
he  had  known  live  plentifully,  and  by  a  too  liberal 
heart  and  carelessness  became  decayed  in  his  estate." 

There  were  other  matters  which  contributed  to 
make  this  year  a  sad  and  anxious  one  for  Donne.  His 
eldest  son,  John,  whom  he  never  names  in  his  letters, 


A  YEAR  OF  GLOOM  195 

had  already  entered  upon  that  course  of  dissipation 
and  profligacy  which  in  his  later  years  made  his 
name  a  reproach  to  all  that  bore  it ;  and  this  very 
year  he  had,  there  is  some  reason  to  believe,  made  a 
disreputable  marriage.  His  son  George  had  taken  to 
a  military  life ;  of  his  career  we  know  little  but  that 
he  was  one  of  those  taken  prisoner  at  the  disastrous 
retreat  from  the  Isle  of  Bhe,  and  had  already  attained 
the  rank  of  captain.  His  father  was  anxious  about 
him,  and  had  received  no  letters  from  him. 

George  Donne  was  kept  in  a  French  prison  for  five 
years — his  father  never  saw  him  again.  He  procured 
his  liberty  in  1 6  3  3 ,  by  bribing  his  jailer,  and  escaped 
safely  to  England. 

During  this  year,  too,  his  aged  mother  had  become 
dependent  upon  her  son  by  the  death  of  her  third  (?) 
husband  (Eainsford).  Disregarding  the  ill-natured  re 
marks  which  some  made  at  the  scandal  of  so  noted  a 
supporter  of  the  Romanist  faction  being  received  into 
the  deanery,  Donne  offered  her  there  an  asylum  in 
her  old  age.  She  continued  to  live  with  her  illustri 
ous  son  till  his  death,  and  survived  him  nine  months. 
She  was  buried  at  All  Hallows,  Barking,  on  the  28th 
January  1631[-2]. 


CHAPTEK  IX 

LIFE'S   EVENING  AND   THE   SUNSET 

IT  was  Donne's  practice  to  keep  the  Festival  of  the 
Conversion  of  St.  Paul  by  preaching  in  the  Cathedral 
pulpit  either  upon  the  25th  January  itself  or  upon 
the  Sunday  following.  In  the  year  1628  he  did  so 
on  Sunday  the  27th,  and  thus  began  the  new  year. 
Three  times  during  that  spring  he  was  called  upon 
to  preach  before  the  king  at  Whitehall,  and  on  Whit 
Sunday,  as  usual,  he  took  his  turn  at  St.  Paul's. 
Shortly  afterwards  he  left  London  to  pay  a  visit  to 
his  parishioners  at  Sevenoaks,  and  during  his  absence 
his  daughter  Margaret  was  taken  with  the  small 
pox.  The  girl's  attack  was  a  mild  one.  She  was 
carefully  attended  by  an  old  servant,  named  Eliza 
beth,  who  for  many  years  had  been  the  faithful 
"  waiting-maid  "  and  friend  of  herself  and  her  sisters.1 
There  was  nothing  to  be  gained  by  her  father's  re 
maining  to  watch  by  her  sickbed,  and  in  the  month 
of  August  he  went  down  to  Blunham,  where  he  stayed 
for  three  weeks.  On  his  way  back  to  London  he  was 
seized  with  a  fever  "  which,"  as  he  writes,  "  when  Dr. 
Fox,  whom  I  found  at  London,  considered  well  and 
perceived  the  fever  to  be  complicated  with  a  squin- 
ancie  [quinsy],  by  way  of  prevention  of  both  he  pre- 

1  Donne  left  a  legacy  of  £20  to  this  good  woman  in  his  will. 
196 


LIFE'S  EVENING  AND  THE  SUNSET  197 

sently  took  blood ;  and  so  with  ten  days  starving  in  a 
close  prison,  that  is,  my  bed,  I  am — blessed  be  God 
— returned  to  a  convenient  temper  and  pulse  and 
appetite." 

The  symptoms  appear  to  have  been  violent,  and  his 
"  mouth  and  voice  " — presumably  his  throat — were  so 
affected  that,  he  adds,  "  It  is  likely  to  take  me  from 
any  frequent  exercise  of  my  duty  of  preaching.  But 
God  will  either  enable  me  or  pardon  me.  His  will 
be  done  upon  us  all." 

A  man  of  fifty -five  finds  it  hard  to  believe  that  he  has 
passed  his  prime  and  that  he  can  no  longer  do  as  much 
and  as  well  as  he  has  been  accustomed  to  do.  In 
Donne's  case,  however,  he  had  been  living  for  years  at 
very  great  tension,  not  only  of  mind  but  much  more  so  of 
body,  and  his  frequent  and  enthusiastic  preaching  had 
put  so  great  a  strain  upon  his  constitution  that  his  health 
was  seriously  breaking.  The  very  last  thing  that  he 
would  have  assented  to  was  that  a  period  of  absolute  rest 
had  now  become  imperatively  necessary  ;  this  was  now 
forced  upon  him,  much  against  his  will,  and  for  more 
than  six  months  he  was  compelled  to  retire  from  all 
active  work,  insomuch  that  towards  the  end  of  the 
year  a  report  was  widely  circulated  that  he  was 
dead.  He  refers  to  this  rumour  in  the  following 
letter  to  Mrs.  Cokayne : — 

"  I  have  found  this  rumour  of  my  death  to  have 
made  so  deep  impression  and  to  have  been  so  per 
emptorily  believed,  that  from  very  remote  parts  I 
have  been  entreated  to  signify  under  my  hand  that 
I  am  yet  alive.  .  .  .  What  gave  the  occasion  of  this 
rumour  I  can  make  no  conjecture.  And  yet  the 
hour  of  my  death  and  the  day  of  my  burial  were 


198  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

related  in  the  highest  place  of  this  kingdom.  I  had 
at  that  time  no  kind  of  sickness,  nor  was  otherwise 
than  I  had  been  ever  since  my  fever,  and  am  yet : 
that  is,  too  weak  at  this  time  of  year  to  go  forth 
especially  to  London  .  .  .  where  I  must  necessarily 
open  myself  to  more  business  than  my  present  state 
could  bear.  Yet  next  term,  by  God's  grace,  I  will  be 
there." 

He  was  better  than  his  word ;  for  he  preached  at 
St.  Paul's  on  Christmas  Day,  taking  as  his  text  the 
words,  "  Who  hath  believed  our  report  ?  " — possibly  with 
a  latent  allusion  to  the  rumours  that  had  been 
circulated  regarding  himself. 

Next  year,  1629,  during  the  spring,  he  preached 
four  or  five  times,  at  court  and  at  St.  Paul's ;  but  in 
May  he  broke  down  again.  In  November  he  was  so 
far  recovered  as  to  preach  at  Paul's  Cross  on  Matt, 
xi.  6,  and  we  may  infer  that  a  great  crowd  had 
assembled  to  hear  him,  from  the  following  passage  :— 

"  Beloved,  there  are  poor  that  are  literally  poor, 
poor  in  estate  and  fortune ;  and  poor,  that  are  natur 
ally  poor,  poor  in  capacity  and  understanding;  and 
poor  that  are  spiritually  poor,  dejected  in  spirit,  and 
insensible  of  the  comforts  which  the  Holy  Ghost  offers 
unto  them ;  and  to  all  these  poor,  are  we  all  bound  to 
preach  the  gospel.  .  .  .  For  them  which  are  literally 
poor,  poor  in  estate,  how  much  do  they  want  of  this 
means  of  salvation — preaching — which  the  rich  have  ? 
They  cannot  maintain  chaplains  in  their  houses ;  they 
cannot  forbear  the  necessary  labours  of  their  calling, 
to  hear  extraordinary  sermons ;  they  cannot  have  seats 
in  church  whensoever  they  come ;  they  must  stay,  they 
must  stand,  they  must  thrust,  they  must  overcome 


LIFE'S  EVENING  AND  THE  SUNSET  199 

that  difficulty,  which  St.  Augustine  makes  an  im 
possibility,  that  is  for  any  man  to  receive  benefit  by 
that  sermon  that  he  hears  with  pain:  they  must  take 
pains  to  hear.  To  these  poor,  therefore,  the  Lord  and 
His  Spirit  hath  sent  me  to  preach  the  gospel.  .  .  .  ' 

The  sermon  must  have  taken  more  than  an  hour  to 
deliver;  it  is  singularly  free  from  those  quotations 
from  and  references  to  other  men's  works  and  opinions 
which  sometimes  weary  us  in  the  more  laboured 
efforts  of  the  great  preacher.  Donne  gives  us  here 
more  of  himself,  and  surrenders  himself  to  the  impulse 
of  his  own  genius,  or  perhaps  it  would  be  truer  to 
say,  he  surrenders  himself  to  the  thoughts  that  had 
been  the  subjects  of  his  contemplation  during  the 
past  months,  when  his  long  illness  had  led  him  to 
think  of  the  nearness  of  death  and  of  the  beatific 
vision  that  his  soul  desired.  What  is  this  blessedness 
— he  asks — which  the  Saviour  speaks  of  in  the  text  ? 

"  Blessedness  itself  is  God  Himself.  Our  blessedness 
is  our  possession,  our  union  with  God.  To  see  God 
as  He  is,  that  is  blessedness.  There  in  heaven  I 
shall  have  continuitatem  intuendi ;  it  is  not  only  vision, 
but  intuition;  not  only  a  seeing,  but  a  beholding,  a 
contemplating  of  God.  ...  I  shall  be  still  but  the 
servant  of  my  God,  and  yet  I  shall  be  of  the  same 
spirit  with  that  God.  When  ?  .  .  .  Our  last  day  is 
our  first  day ;  our  Saturday  is  our  Sunday ;  our  eve 
is  our  holy  day ;  our  sunsetting  is  our  morning ;  the 
day  of  our  death  is  the  first  day  of  our  eternal  life. 
The  next  day  after  that  .  .  .  comes  that  day  that 
shall  show  me  to  myself.  Here  I  never  saw  myself 
but  in  disguises ;  there,  then,  I  shall  see  myself,  but  I 
shall  see  God  too.  .  .  .  Here  I  have  one  faculty 


200  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

enlightened,  and  another  left  in  darkness  ;  mine  under 
standing  sometimes  cleared,  my  will  at  the  same  time 
perverted.  There  I  shall  be  all  light,  no  shadow 
upon  me ;  my  soul  invested  in  the  light  of  joy,  and 
my  body  in  the  light  of  glory.  .  .  .  How  glorious  is 
God  as  He  calls  up  our  eyes  to  Him  in  the  beauty 
and  splendour  and  service  of  the  Church !  How 
glorious  in  that  spouse  of  His  !  But  how  glorious 
shall  I  conceive  this  light  to  be  when  I  shall  see  it 
in  His  own  place !  In  that  sphere  which,  though  a 
sphere,  is  a  centre  too ;  in  that  place  which,  though  a 
place,  is  all  and  everywhere  ! " 

The  preaching  of  this  sermon  overtaxed  Donne's 
failing  strength  ;  for  when  Christmas  Day  came  he  was, 
for  the  first  time,  unable  to  appear  in  the  pulpit  of 
St.  Paul's.  He  made  amends  for  his  absence  then  by 
preaching  one  of  his  most  ingenious  and  characteristic 
sermons  on  the  Feast  of  the  Conversion  of  St.  Paul 
(25th  January  1630).  He  chose  as  his  text 
Acts  xxiii.  6,  7. 

"  In  handling  of  which  words,"  he  says,  ".  .  .  we 
shall  stop  first  upon  that  consideration,  that  all  the 
actions  of  holy  men  .  .  .  are  not  to  be  drawn  into 
example  and  consequence  for  others,  no,  nor  always  to  be 
excused  and  justified  in  them  that  did  them.  And 
secondly  we  shall  consider  this  action  of  St.  Paul  in 
some  circumstances  that  invest  it.  ...  And  in  a 
third  consideration  we  shall  lodge  all  these  in  our 
selves,  and  make  it  our  own  case,  and  find  that  we 
have  all  Sadducees  and  Pharisees  in  our  own  bosoms 
— contrary  affections  in  our  own  hearts — and  find 
an  advantage  in  putting  these  home  -  Sadducees 
and  home-Pharisees  in  colluctation  and  opposition 


LIFE'S  EVENING  AND  THE  SUNSET  201 

against  one  another.  ...  A  civil  war  is,  in  this  case, 
our  way  to  peace : —  .  .  . 

"  Paul's  way  was  by  a  twofold  protection ;  the  first 
this,  Men  and  brethren,  I  am  a  Pharisee  ! 

"  Beloved,  there  are  some  things  in  which  all  religions 
agree :  the  worship  of  God,  the  holiness  of  life. 
Therefore,  if  (when  I  study  this  holiness  of  life,  and 
fast,  and  pray,  and  submit  myself  to  discreet  and 
individual  mortifications  for  the  subduing  of  my  body) 
any  man  will  say,  '  This  is  papistical !  Papists  do 
this  ! ' — it  is  a  blessed  protestation,  and  no  man  is  the 
less  a  Protestant  nor  the  worse  a  Protestant  for  making 
it — c  I  am  a  Papist !  that  is,  I  will  fast  and  pray  as 
much  as  any  Papist,  and  enable  myself  for  the  service 
of  my  God,  as  seriously,  as  sedulously,  as  laboriously 
as  any  Papist.' 

"  So  if — when  I  startle  and  am  affected  at  the 
blasphemous  oath,  as  at  a  wound  upon  my  Saviour — 
if — when  I  avoid  the  conversation  of  those  men  that 
profane  the  Lord's  day — any  other  will  say,  '  This  is 
puritanical !  Puritans  do  this  ! ' — it  is  a  blessed  pro 
testation,  and  no  man  is  the  less  a  Protestant  nor  the 
worse  a  Protestant  for  making  it — c  Men  and  brethren , 
I  am  a  Puritan !  that  is,  I  will  endeavour  to  be  pure, 
as  my  Father  in  heaven  is  pure — as  far  as  any 
Puritan ! ' 

.  >  .  .  •  t 

"  End  we  all  with  this ;  we  have  all  these  Sadducees 
and  Pharisees  in  our  own  bosoms.  .  .  .  Sins  of  pre 
sumption  and  carnal  confidence  are  our  Sadducees  ;  and 
then  our  Pharisees  are  our  sins  of  separation,  of  division, 
of  diffidence  and  distrust  in  the  mercies  of  our  God.  . 


202  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

Now  if  I  go  St.  Paul's  way,  to  put  a  dissension  between 
these  my  Sadducees  and  my  Pharisees,  to  put  a  jealousy 
between  my  presumption  and  my  desperation,  ...  I 
may,  as  St.  Paul  did  in  the  text,  'scape  the  better  for 
that.  .  .  . 

"  That  God  that  is  the  God  of  peace,  grant  us  His 
peace  and  one  mind  one  towards  another.  That  God 
that  is  the  Lord  of  hosts,  maintain  in  us  that  war  which 
Himself  hath  proclaimed ;  an  enmity  between  the 
seed  of  the  woman  and  the  seed  of  the  serpent, 
between  the  truth  of  God  and  the  inventions  of  men ; 
that  we  may  fight  His  battles  against  His  enemies 
without,  and  fight  His  battles  against  His  enemies 
within —  our  own  corrupt  affections ;  that  we  may  be 
victorious  here,  in  ourselves  and  over  ourselves,  and 
triumph  with  Him  hereafter  in  eternal  glory." 

Donne  preached  his  last  sermon  at  St.  Paul's  on 
Easter  Day,  28th  March  1630.  Then  he  broke  down 
again.1 

It  will  be  remembered  that  Donne's  eldest  daughter, 
Constance,  had  been  married  in  December  1623  to 
Edward  Allen.  She  was  left  a  widow  on  25th 
Nov.  1626.  She  was  comfortably  provided  for,  and 
continued  a  widow  until  the  24th  June  of  this  year 
1630,  when  she  married  as  her  second  husband  Mr. 
Samuel  Harvey  of  Aldborough  Hatch,  near  Barking,  in 
Essex.  The  newly-married  pair  had  known  each 
other  all  their  lives ;  for  the  husband  was  a  grandson 
of  Sir  James  Harvey,  to  whom  the  dean's  father  had 

1  The  sermon  said  to  have  been  preached  "in  Lent  to  the  kin,?, 
April  20,  1630"  (vol.  i.  folio,  p.  127),  is  certainly  wrongly  dated.  In 
that  year  the  3rd  Sunday  after  Easter  fell  upon  the  23rd  April. 


LIFE'S  EVENING  AND  THE  SUNSET  203 

served  his  time  before  his  admission  to  the  freedom  of 
the  city  of  London ;  and  as  prominent  members  of  the 
Ironmongers'  Company  the  two  men  must  have  been 
brought  into  close  business  relations  with  one  another, 
till  the  early  death  of  Donne's  father  brought  these 
to  a  close. 

Whether  Donne  was  able  to  be  present  at  this 
second  marriage — which  appears  to  have  taken  place 
from  the  house  of  her  uncle,  Sir  Thomas  Grymes,  at 
Camberwell — we  are  not  told  ;  but  two  months  later 
Walton  assures  us  that  his  friend  went  down  to 
Abrey  Hatch  (as  it  was  pronounced)  to  pay  a  visit  to 
his  daughter,  and  while  with  her  "  he  fell  into 
a  fever,"  from  the  effects  of  which  he  never 
quite  recovered.  By  this  time  he  had  begun  to  realise 
that  his  earthly  career  was  drawing  to  a  close,  and 
that  there  was  little  for  him  now  to  do  save  to  make 
all  needful  preparations  for  the  end  that  was  at  hand. 
Cut  off  as  he  was  from  the  privilege  of  preaching 
during  the  winter  of  1629,  and  now  again  during  the 
greater  part  of  1630,  he  employed  himself  in  prepar 
ing  his  sermons  for  the  press,  and  in  writing  or 
expanding  some  of  those  with  which  he  was  not 
satisfied.  Thus,  in  a  prefatory  note  to  the  two  sermons 
on  Matthew  iv.  18,  20,  he  writes:  "At  the  Hague, 
Dec.  19,  1619,  I  preached  upon  this  text.  Since  in 
sickness  at  Abrey  Hatch  in  Essex,  1630,  revising  my 
short  notes  of  that  sermon,  I  digested  them  into  these 
two."  In  the  three  folios  published  by  Donne's  son 
between  1640  and  1660,  there  are  five  or  six  of 
these  double  sermons  which  internal  evidence  proves 
were  never  preached  as  they  stand  in  the  printed 
text ;  and  in  a  precious  volume  in  my  possession, 


204  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

prepared  by  Donne  himself  for  the  press,  written 
throughout  in  his  own  hand,  there  is  one  long  sermon 
(on  Luke  iii.  21,  22)  left  unfinished,  but  followed 
by  eleven  blank  pages  evidently  meant  to  be  written 
on,  though  the  writer  never  carried  out  his  intention. 
There  is  also  what  may  be  called  a  fantastic  treatise 
upon  Jacob's  Ladder  in  the  form  of  a  sermon  on 
Gen.  xxviii.  12,  13,  which  could  never  have  been 
delivered,  or  indeed  intended  to  be  delivered,  inasmuch 
as  it  would  take  at  least  three  hours  to  read  aloud. 

During  all  this  long  period  of  enforced  idleness,  so 
far  from  his  intellect  suffering  any  loss  of  power  or 
from  weariness,  Walton  assures  us  that  "  the  latter 
part  of  his  life  may  be  said  to  have  been  a  continual 
study." 

As  it  had  been  in  1624,  when  in  the  very  crisis  of 
what  threatened  to  be  a  fatal  illness  he  went  on 
writing  diligently  day  by  day  even  for  hours  at  a 
time,  so  it  was  now :  his  mind  was  incessantly  at 
work,  and  the  extraordinary  versatility  of  his  genius 
showed  itself  in  the  many  curious  fancies  that  were 
the  subjects  of  his  thoughts.  He  had  been  hereto 
fore  wont  to  seal  his  letters  with  an  impression  of  his 
family  crest — a  knot  of  snakes  argent ;  during  his  last 
illness  he  seems  to  have  discarded  this  signet,  "  and 
not  long  before  his  death  he  caused  to  be  drawn  a 
figure  of  the  body  of  Christ  extended  upon  an  anchor, 
like  those  which  painters  draw  when  they  would 
present  us  with  the  picture  of  Christ  crucified  on  the 
cross :  his  varying  no  otherwise  than  to  affix  Him  not 
to  a  cross,  but  to  an  anchor — the  emblem  of  Hope ; 
this  he  caused  to  be  drawn  in  little,  and  then  many 
of  those  figures  thus  drawn  to  be  engraven  very  small 


h&c_fi-m<nce  tit  SunaonSvnaon 


Amen . 

r *n      ^    cup    _n<    are  to  re  fcuftl by  R  R  etruf  % 


LIFE'S  EVENING  AND  THE  SUNSET  205 

in  heliotropium  stones  and  set  in  gold ;  and  of  these 
he  sent  to  many  of  his  dearest  friends,  to  be  used  as 
seals  or  rings,  and  kept  as  memorials  of  him  and  of 
his  affection  to  them."  Walton  names  five  of  these 
friends,  George  Herbert  being  one  of  them.  He  does 
not  mention  his  own  name,  though  the  ring  which 
Donne  gave  to  honest  Izaak  Walton  has  been  handed 
down  as  an  heirloom  in  the  family  of  his  descendants. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  Dr.  Fox,  the  physician 
who  was  in  constant  attendance  upon  him  during  his 
last  illness,  suggested  that  a  monument  should  be 
prepared  for  him,  to  be  set  up  in  St.  Paul's  after  his 
death.  "  Dr.  Donne,  by  the  persuasion  of  Dr.  Fox, 
easily  yielded  at  this  very  time  to  have  a  monument 
made  for  him  ;  but  Dr.  Fox  undertook  not  to  persuade 
him  how,  or  what  monument  it  should  be ;  that  was 
left  to  Dr.  Donne  himself. 

"  A  monument  being  resolved  upon,  Dr.  Donne  sent 
for  a  carver  to  make  for  him  in  wood  the  figure  of  an 
urn,  giving  him  directions  for  the  compass  and  height 
of  it ;  and  to  bring  with  it  a  board,  of  the  just  height 
of  his  body.  These  being  got,  then  without  delay 
a  choice  painter  was  got  to  be  in  readiness  to  draw 
his  picture,  which  was  taken  as  followeth : — Several 
charcoal  fires  being  first  made  in  his  large  study,  he 
brought  with  him  into  that  place  his  winding-sheet 
in  his  hand,  and  having  put  off  all  his  clothes,  had 
this  sheet  put  on  him,  and  so  tied  with  knots  at  his 
head  and  feet,  and  his  hands  so  placed,  as  dead  bodies 
are  usually  fitted  to  be  shrouded,  and  put  into  their 
coffin  or  grave.  Upon  this  urn  he  thus  stood,  with 
his  eyes  shut,  and  with  so  much  of  the  sheet  turned 
aside  as  might  show  his  lean,  pale,  and  death-like 


206  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

face,  which  was  purposely  turned  towards  the  east, 
from  whence  he  expected  the  second  coming  of  his 
and  our  Saviour  Jesus.  In  this  posture  he  was 
drawn  at  his  just  height ;  and  when  the  picture  was 
fully  finished,  he  caused  it  to  be  set  by  his  bedside, 
where  it  continued  and  became  his  hourly  object  till 
his  death,  and  was  then  given  to  his  dearest  friend 
and  executor,  Dr.  Henry  King,  then  chief  residentiary 
of  St.  Paul's,  who  caused  him  to  be  thus  carved  in 
one  entire  piece  of  white  marble,  as  it  now  stands  in 
that  church."  * 

Though  Donne  seems  to  have  considered  himself 
bound  by  his  half  promise  to  Lady  Bedford  to  write 
no  more  verse  after  he  had  been  admitted  to  holy 
orders,  yet  by  her  ladyship's  death  he  appears  to 
have  thought  himself  released  from  any  such  pledge, 
and  now  in  his  lonely  hours  he  found  a  solace  in 
surrendering  himself  to  his  poetic  gift.  How  much 
of  his  religious  poetry  he  wrote  at  this  time  it  is 
impossible  to  conjecture ;  but  the  magnificent  hymn 
which  he  calls  "  An  Hymn  to  God  the  Father  "  must 
have  been  written  at  this  period,  though  Walton 
suggests  that  it  was  composed  at  an  earlier  date. 
Familiar  as  it  doubtless  is  to  most  of  us,  it  would  be 
unpardonable  to  omit  it  here. 

"Wilt  Thou  forgive  that  sin  where  I  begun, 

Which  was  rny  sin,  though  it  were  done  before  ? 
Wilt  Thou  forgive  that  sin  through  which  I  run, 

And  do  run  still,  though  still  I  do  deplore  1 
When  Thou  hast  done,  Thou  hast  not  done, 

For  I  have  more. 

1  l  This  was  one  of  the  few  monuments  which  escaped  the  ravages  of 
the  great  fire  in  1666,  and  has  within  the  last  few  years  been  set  up 
again  in  the  south  aisle  of  the  choir. 


LIFE'S  EVENING  AND  THE  SUNSET  207 

Wilt  Thou  forgive  that  sin,  which  I  have  won 
Others  to  sin,  and  made  my  sin  their  door? 

Wilt  Thou  forgive  that  sin  which  I  did  shun 
A  year  or  two — but  wallowed  in  a  score  ? 

When  Thou  hast  done,  Thou  hast  not  done, 

For  I  have  more. 

I  have  a  sin  of  fear  that  when  I've  spun 
My  last  thread,  I  shall  perish  on  the  shore ; 

But  swear  by  Thyself,  that  at  my  death  Thy  Son 
Shall  shine  as  He  shines  now,  and  heretofore ; 

And  having  done  that,  Thou  hast  done, 

I  fear  no  more." 

"  I  have,"  writes  Walton,  "  the  rather  mentioned  this 
hymn,  for  that  he  caused  it  to  be  set  to  a  most  grave 
and  solemn  tune,  and  to  be  often  sung  to  the  organ 
by  the  choristers  of  St.  Paul's  Church,  in  his  own 
hearing,  especially  at  the  evening  service ;  and  at  his 
return  from  his  customary  devotions  in  that  place, 
did  occasionally  say  to  a  friend,  '  The  words  of  this 
hymn  have  restored  to  me  the  same  thoughts  of  joy 
that  possessed  my  soul  in  my  sickness,  when  I  com 
posed  it.  And,  0  the  power  of  church  music !  that 
harmony  added  to  this  hymn  has  raised  the  affections 
of  my  heart  and  quickened  my  graces  of  zeal  and 
gratitude ;  and  I  observe  that  I  always  return  from 
paying  this  public  duty  of  prayer  and  praise  to  God, 
with  an  unexpressible  tranquillity  of  mind,  and  a 
willingness  to  leave  the  world.' " 

During  these  last  years  of  his  life  Donne  continued 
writing  sedulously  to  'his  old  friends ;  and  of  these 
letters  several  have  come  down  to  us  which  afford 
us  a  pathetic  insight  into  his  thoughts  and  occupations 
as  the  days  passed  on.  He  was  anxious  and  a  little 
troubled  about  his  son  George,  who  was  still  in  a 


208  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

French  prison.  Some  great  lady  had  borrowed  a  sum 
of  money  from  him  and  left  her  diamonds  with  him 
as  a  security  for  the  loan.  Donne,  in  view  of  his 
approaching  end,  was  uneasy  at  the  thought  that  the 
jewels  might  be  found  in  the  deanery  after  his  death, 
and  a  scandal  might  be  occasioned  or  difficulties 
arise ;  and  he  writes  to  his  old  friend,  George  Garrard, 
who  was  at  this  time  Master  of  Charterhouse,  begging 
him  in  some  way  to  relieve  him  of  the  embarrass 
ment  of  the  situation. 

The  saddest  letter  is  a  long  one  addressed  to  Mrs. 
Cokayne,  who  had  made  a  somewhat  peremptory 
application  for  a  living  in  the  dean's  gift  which  had 
just  fallen  vacant.  Mrs.  Cokayne  was  exceedingly 
anxious  to  get  it  for  a  certain  Nathaniel  Hazard,  of 
whom  nothing  is  known  except  that  he  had  been  a 
tutor  in  Mrs.  Cokayne's  family.  Donne's  letter  in 
reply  will  tell  its  own  tale  :— 

"  My  NOBLE  SISTER,— I_am  afraid  thaj^  Death  will 
^play  with  me  so  long  as  hp.  wJlTforget  toldll  me ;  and* 
suffer  me  to  live  in  a  languishing  and  useless  as^e  a 
life  that  is  rather  a  forgetting  that  I  am  dead  than  of 
living.  We  dispute  whether  the  dead  shall  pray  for 
the  living,  and  because  my  life  may  be  short,  I  pray 
with  the  most  earnestness  for  you  now.  By  the 
advantage  of  sickness,  I  return  the  oftener  to  that 
holy  exercise,  and  in  it  join  yours  with  mine  own 
soul.  I  would  not  have  dignified  myself  or  my 
sickness  with  saying  so  much  of  either,  but  that  it  is 
in  obedience  to  your  command  that  I  should  do  so. 
And  though  there  lie  upon  me  no  command,  yet  there 
lies  a  necessity  growing  out  of  my  respect  and  a 


LIFE'S  EVENING  AND  THE  SUNSET  209 

nobler  root  than  that,  my  love  to  you,  to  enlarge 
myself,  as  far  as  I  have  gone  already  in  this  Mr. 
Hazard's  business.  My  noble  sister,  when  you  carry 
me  up  to  the  beginning,  which  it  pleases  you  to  call 
a  promise  to  yourself,  and  your  noble  sister ;  I  never 
slackened  my  purpose  of  performing  that  promise. 
But  if  my  promise,  which  was  that  I  should  be  ready 
to  assist  him  in  any  thing  I  could,  were  translated  by 
you,  or  your  noble  sister  or  him,  that  I  would  give 
him  the  next  living  in  my  gift,  certainly  we  speak 
not  one  language,  or  understand  not  one  another,  and 
I  had  thought  we  had.  This  which  he  imagined  to 
be  vacant  (for  it  is  not  yet  nor  any  way  likely)  is  the 
first  that  fell  to  me  since  I  made  that  promise.  And, 
my  noble  sister :  if  a  person  of  my  place  from  whom 
one  scholar  in  each  university  sucks  something  and 
must  be  weaned  by  me,  and  who  hath  otherwise  a 
latitude  of  unfortunate  friends  and  very  many  obliga 
tions,  hast  a  living  once  in  five  or  six  years  fall  in 
his  gift  (for  it  is  so  long  since  I  gave  any),  and  may 
not  make  a  good  choice  with  freedom  then,  it  is  hard; 
yet  it  is  not  my  fortune  to  do  so  now :  for,  now  there 
is  a  living  fallen  (though  not  that),  I  am  not  left  to 
my  choice,  for  my  Lord  Carlisle  and  Percy  have 
chosen  for  me  :  but  truly  such  a  man  as  I  would  have 
chosen :  and  for  him,  they  laid  an  obligation  upon  me 
three  years  since,  for  the  next  that  should  fall ;  yet 
Mr.  Hazard  presses  you  to  write  for  that,  because  he 
to  whom  my  promise  belongs  hath  another  before, 
but  doth  he  or  his  lord  owe  me  any  thing  for  that  ? 
Yet  Mr.  Hazard  importunes  me,  to  press  that  chaplain 
of  my  lord,  that  when  he  takes  mine,  he  shall  resign 
the  other  to  him,  which,  as  it  is  an  ignorant  request 
14 


210  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

(for  if  it  be  resign'd  it  is  not  in  his  power  to  place  it 
upon  Mr.  Hazard),  so  it  is  an  unjust  request  that  I 
that  give  him  fifty  pounds  a  year  should  take  from 
him  forty.  But  amongst  Mr.  Hazard's  manifold 
importunities  that  that  I  took  worst  was  that  he 
should  write  of  domestic  things,  and  what  I  said  of 
my  son,  to  you :  and  arm  you  with  that  plea  that  my 
son  was  not  in  orders.  But,  my  noble  sister,  though  I 
am  far  from  drawing  my  son  immaturely  into  orders, 
or  putting  into  his  hands  any  church  with  cure :  yet 
there  are  many  prebends  and  other  helps  in  the 
church,  which  a  man  without  taking  orders  may  be 
capable  of,  and  for  some  such  I  might  change  a  living 
with  cure,  and  so  begin  to  accommodate  a  son  in  some 
preparation.  But  Mr.  Hazard  is  too  piercing.  It  is 
good  counsel  (and  as  I  remember  I  gave  it  him)  that 
if  a  man  deny  him  any  thing  and  accompany  his 
denial  with  a  reason,  he  be  not  too  searching  whether 
that  be  the  true  reason  or  no,  but  rest  in  the  denial : 
for  many  times  it  may  be  out  of  my  power  to  do  a 
man  a  courtesy  which  he  desires  and  yet  I  not  tied 
to  tell  him  the  true  reason  :  therefore  out  of  his  letter 
to  you,  I  continue  my  opinion  that  he  meddled  too 
far  herein.  I  cannot  shut  my  letter  till  (whilst  we  are 
upon  this  consideration  of  reasons  of  denials)  I  tell 
you  one  answer  of  his,  which  perchance  may  weaken 
your  so  great  assurance  of  his  modesty.  I  told  him 
that  my  often  sicknesses  had  brought  me  to  an  inability 
of  preaching,  and  that  I  was  under  a  necessity  of 
preaching  twelve  or  fourteen  solemn  sermons  every 
year,  to  great  auditories,  at  Paul's,  and  to  the  Judges, 
and  at  courts,  and  that  therefore  I  must  think  of 
conferring  something  upon  such  a  man  as  may  supply 


LIFE'S  EVENING  AND  THE  SUNSET  211 

my   place  in  these  solemnities,  and  surely,  said  I,  I 
will  offer  them  no  man  in  those  cases  which  shall  not 
be  at  least  equal  to  myself ;  and,   Mr.  Hazard,  I  do 
not  know  your  faculties.     He  gave  me  this  answer. 
'  I  will  not  make  comparisons,  but  I  do  not  doubt  but 
that   I   should   give  them  satisfaction   in  that  kind/ 
Now,  my  noble  sister,  whereas  you  repeat  often,  that 
you  and    your   sister  rested  upon  my  word  and  my 
worth,  and  but  for  my  word  and  my  worth  you  would 
not   have  proceeded  so  far :   I  must  necessarily  make 
my   protestation,  that   my    word    and  my    worth  is, 
herein,  chaste  and  untouched.     For,  my  noble  sister, 
goes  there  no  more  to  the  giving  of  a  scholar  a  church 
in  London  but  that  he  was  a  young  gentleman  school 
master  ?      You    know    the    ticklishness     of     London 
pulpits,  and   how   ill   it  would  become  me,  to  place  a 
man  in  a  London  church  that  were  not  both  a  strong 
and  a  sound  man.     And  therefore  those  things  must 
come  into  consideration  before  he  can  have  a  living 
from  me  though  there  was  no  need  of  reflecting  upon 
those  things  when  I  made  that  general  promise,  that 
I  would  assist  his  fortune  in  any  thing.     You  end  in 
a  phrase  of  indignation  and  displeasure  rare  in  you 
towards  me,  therefore  it  affects  me :  which  is,  that  he 
may  part  from  me  as  I  received  him  at  first ;  as  though 
I  were  likely  to  hinder  him.     The  heat  that  produced 
that   word   I   know   is   past,  and  therefore,  my  most 
beloved  sister,  give  me   leave  to  say  to  you  that  he 
shall  not  part  from  me,  but  I  shall  keep  him  still  in 
my  care,  and  make  you  always  my  judge  of  all  omissions. 
"  Your  faithful  friend  and  servant." 

Mrs.  Cokayne  took  this  remonstrance  in  the  spirit 


212  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

in  which  it  was  written,  and  the  affectionate  letter 
which  Donne  wrote  to  her  a  few  days  before  he  left 
Abrey  Hatch,  to  return  thanks,  shows  that  the  under 
standing  between  the  two  friends  continued  then  to 
be  as  cordial  as  ever ;  and  this  is  the  last  letter  that 
has  come  down  to  us. 

Donne  made  his  will  at  his  daughter's  house  on  the 
13th  December  1630.  Weak  and  frail  as  he  was,  he 
could  not  yet  give  up  the  hope  of  being  able  to  preach 
once  more  at  St.  Paul's  on  Christmas  Day.  When  he 
was  persuaded  that  this  was  impossible,  he  still  hoped 
to  be  at  his  post  on  Candlemas  Day  (2nd  February), 
but  again  he  had  to  find  a  substitute. 

"  Before  that  month  ended,  he  was  appointed  to 
preach  upon  his  old  constant  day,  the  first  Friday  in 
Lent :  he  had  notice  of  it,  and  had  in  his  sickness  so 
prepared  for  that  employment,  that  as  he  had  long 
thirsted  for  it,  so  he  resolved  his  weakness  should  not 
hinder  his  journey  ;  he  came  therefore  to  London  some 
few  days  before  his  appointed  day  of  preaching.  At 
his  coming  thither,  many  of  his  friends — who  with 
sorrow  saw  his  sickness  had  left  him  but  so  much 
flesh  as  did  only  cover  his  bones — doubted  his  strength 
to  perform  that  task,  and  did  therefore  dissuade  him 
from  undertaking  it,  assuring  him,  however,  it  was 
like  to  shorten  his  life :  but  he  passionately  denied 
their  requests,  saying,  '  He  would  not  doubt  that  that 
God,  who  in  so  many  weaknesses  had  assisted  him 
with  an  unexpected  strength,  would  now  withdraw  it 
in  his  last  employment ;  professing  a  holy  ambition  to 
perform  that  sacred  work.'  And  when,  to  the  amaze 
ment  of  some  beholders,  he  appeared  in  the  pulpit, 
many  of  them  thought  he  presented  himself  not  to 


LIFE'S  EVENING  AND  THE  SUNSET  213 

preach  mortification  by  a  living  voice,  but  mortality 
by  a  decayed  body  and  a  dying  face.  And  doubtless 
many  did  secretly  ask  that  question  in  Ezekiel  (chap, 
xxxvii.  3),  'Do  these  bones  live  ?  or  can  that  soul 
organise  that  tongue  to  speak  so  long  time  as  the 
sand  in  that  glass  will  move  towards  its  centre,  and 
measure  out  an  hour  of  this  dying  man's  unspent  life  ? 
Doubtless  it  cannot.'  And  yet,  after  some  faint 
pauses  in  his  zealous  prayer,  his  strong  desires  enabled 
his  weak  body  to  discharge  his  memory  of  his  precon 
ceived  meditations,  which  were  of  dying ;  the  text 
being,  '  To  God  the  Lord  belong  the  issues  from 
death/  Many  that  then  saw  his  tears,  and  heard  his 
faint  and  hollow  voice,  professing  EEey  thought  the 
text  prophetically  chosen,  and  that  Dr.  Donne  hacT 
preached  his  own  funeral  sermon. 

"  Joeing  full  oll  joy  that  (lod  Tiad  enabled  him  to 
perform  this  desired  duty,  he  hastened  to  his  house ; 
out  of  which  he  never  moved,  till,  like  St.  Stephen, 
'  he  was  carried  by  devout  men  to  his  grave.' l 

"  The  next  day  after  his  sermon,  his  strength  being 
much  wasted,  and  his  spirits  so  spent  as  indisposed 
him  to  business  or  to  talk,  a  friend  that  had  often 
been  a  witness  of  his  free  and  facetious  discourse 
asked  him,  '  Why  are  you  sad  ? '  To  whom  he 
replied,  with  a  countenance  so  full  of  cheerful  gravity, 
as  gave  testimony  of  an  inward  tranquillity  of  mind, 
and  of  a  soul  willing  to  take  a  farewell  of  this  world ; 
and  said : 

'  I  am  not  sad ;  but  most  of  the  night  past  I  have 

1  The  Gregorian  Calendar  was  not  accepted  at  this  time  in  England. 
Therefore,  according  to  our  reckoning,  the  1st  Friday  in  Lent  fell  on 
the  25th  February,  Donne  died  on  the  31st  March. 


214  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

entertained  myself  with  many  thoughts  of  several 
friends  that  have  left  me  here,  and  are  gone  to  that 
place  from  which  they  shall  not  return;  and  that 
within  a  few  days  I  also  shall  go  hence,  and  be  no 
more  seen.  And  my  preparation  for  this  change  has 
become  my  nightly  meditation  upon  my  bed,  which 
my  infirmities  have  now  made  restless  to  me.  But  at 
this  present  time,  I  was  in  a  serious  contemplation  of 
the  providence  and  goodness  of  God  to  me ;  to  me, 
who  am  less  than  the  least  of  His  mercies :  and  look 
ing  back  upon  my  life  past,  I  now  plainly  see  it  was 
His  hand  that  prevented  me  from  all  temporal 
employment ;  and  that  it  was  His  will  I  should  never 
settle  nor  thrive  till  I  entered  into  the  Ministry,  in 
which  I  have  now  lived  almost  twenty  years — I  hope 
to  His  glory — and  by  which,  I  most  humbly  thank 
Him,  I  have  been  enabled  to  requite  most  of  those 
friends  which  showed  me  kindness  when  my  fortune 
was  very  low,  as  God  knows  it  was :  and — as  it  hath 
occasioned  the  expression  of  my  gratitude — I  thank 
God  most  of  them  have  stood  in  need  of  my  requital. 
I  have  lived  to  be  useful  and  comfortable  to  my  good 
father-in-law,  Sir  George  More,  whose  patience  God 
hath  been  pleased  to  exercise  with  many  temporal 
crosses ;  I  have  maintained  my  own  mother,  whom  it 
hath  pleased  God,  after  a  plentiful  fortune  in  her 
younger  days,  to  bring  to  great  decay  in  her  very  old 
age.  I  have  quieted  the  consciences  of  many  that 
have  groaned  under  the  burthen  of  a  wounded  spirit, 
whose  prayers  I  hope  are  available  for  me.  I  cannot 
plead  innocency  of  life,  especially  of  my  youth ;  but  I 
am  to  be  judged  by  a  merciful  God,  who  is  not  willing 
to  see  what  I  have  done  amiss.  And  though  of  my- 


LIFE'S  EVENING  AND  THE  SUNSET  215 

self  I  have  nothing  to  present  to  Him  but  sins  and 
misery,  yet  I  know  He  looks  not  upon  me  now  as  I  am 
of  myself,  but  as  I  am  in  my  Saviour,  and  hath  given 
me,  even  at  this  present  time,  some  testimonies  by  His 
Holy  Spirit,  that  I  am  of  the  number  of  His  Elect :  I 
am  therefore  full  of  inexpressible  joy,  and  shall  die  in 
peace.'  " 

There  was  no  more  work  remaining  to  be  done. 
The  sands  of  life  were  fast  running  out.  Eight  days 
before  the  end  came  he  wrote  his  last  poem  on  his 
deathbed,  which  bore  the  title — 

"An  Hymn  to  God,  my  God,  in  my  Sickness." 
March  23,  1630. 

The  first  and  last  verses  are  those  best  worth 
quoting : — 

"Since  I  am  coming  to  that  holy  room, 

Where,  with  Thy  Choir  of  Saints,  for  evermore 
I  shall  be  made  Thy  music,  as  I  come 
I  tune  my  instrument  here  at  the  door, 
And,  what  I  must  do  then,  think  here  before. 


So,  in  His  purple  wrapt,  receive  me,  Lord ! 

By  these  His  thorns,  give  me  His  other  Crown  : 

And,  as  to  other  souls  I  preached  Thy  word, 
Be  this  my  text,  my  sermon  to  mine  own, 
'  Therefore,  that  He  may  raise,  the  Lord  throws  down.' " 

He  had  only  three  days  to  live  when  he  became 
disturbed  by  anxiety  regarding  the  large  mass  of 
manuscripts  which  he  was  about  to  leave  behind  him. 
By  some  strange  misadventure  he  had  made  no 
mention  of  these  in  his  will ;  and  inasmuch  as  they 
not  only  comprehended  an  immense  accumulation  of 
miscellaneous  notes  and  extracts,  the  Ephemerides  of  a 


216  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

student  of  extraordinary  industry  during  nearly  fifty 
years  of  research,  but  also  included  all  his  sermons  and 
other  writings,  representing  in  the  aggregate  a  collection 
which  even  -in  those  days  was  worth  no  inconsider 
able  sum  of  money,  common  prudence  would  have 
suggested  that  this  literary  property  should  be  dealt 
with  by  a  special  bequest.  Donne  had  and  could  have 
no  confidence  in  his  son  John,  and  in  view  of  what 
might  happen  he  endeavoured  to  provide  against  a 
contingency  which  actually  did  happen.  So  far  as  at 
this  stage  it  was  possible  for  him  to  do  so  without 
adding  a  codicil  to  his  will,  he  endeavoured  to  make 
a  surrender  of  his  manuscripts  by  deed  of  gift  to  Dr. 
King,  one  of  his  executors.  Among  them  were  the 
sermons  prepared  for  the  press  and  afterwards  pub 
lished  in  folio,  "  together  with  which,"  says  Dr.  King 
himself — "  as  his  best  legacy — he  gave  me  all  his  ser 
mon  notes  and  his  other  papers,  containing  an  extract 
of  near  fifteen  hundred,  professing  before  Dr.  Winniff, 
Dr.  Montford  [and  Izaak  Walton],  then  present  at  his 
bedside,  that  it  was  my  restless  importunity  that  he 
had  prepared  them  for  the  press," 

Unhappily,  very  soon  after  Donne's  death,  and 
while  the  estate  was  in  the  custody  of  the  executors, 
his  son  Jolin,  as  heir-male,  laid  claim  to  the  whole  of 
these  literary  remains ;  and  Dr.  King  was — under 
pressure  the  nature  of  which  remains  unexplained — 
compelled  to  surrender  them. 

Thirty  years  later,  in  a  letter  to  Izaak  Walton, 
King,  complaining  of  this  outrage,  writes  :  "  How  these 
were  got  out  of  my  hands,  you  who  were  the 
messenger  for  them,  and  how  lost  to  me  and  yourself, 
is  not  now  seasonable  to  complain."  The  collection 


LIFE'S  EVENING  AND  THE  SUNSET  217 

appears  to  have  been  kept  in  the  first  instance  in  a 
cabinet  reserved  for  it — an  illustration  this  of  the 
clean's  methodical  habits  which  Walton  remarks  upon. 
It  looks  as  if  towards  the  close  of  his  life  the  younger 
Donne  felt  some  compunction  or  shame  at  the  wrong 
he  had  done  to  his  father  and  his  father's  friend ;  for 
in  his  will,  which  he  drew  up  in  1662,  he  says,  "To 
the  Eeverent  Bishop  of  Chichester  I  return  the  cabinet 
that  was  my  father's,  now  in  my  dining-room,  and  all 
those  papers  which  are  of  authors  analysed  by  my 
father ;  many  of  which  he  hath  already  received  with 
his  Common  Place  Book,  which  I  desire  may  pass  to 
Mr.  Walton's  son  as  being  most  likely  to  have  use  for 
such  a  help  when  his  age  shall  require  it." 

Many  attempts  have  been  made  to  discover  what 
became  of  these  papers,  but  without  result.  It  is 
evident  they  were  practically  kept  together  till  some 
years  after  the  Kestoration,  but  in  Bishop  King's 
will,  subscribed  by  him  14th  July  1663,  and 
proved  without  any  codicils  in  1669,  there  is  no 
mention  of  or  allusion  to  the  Donne  MSS.,  nor 
does  the  name  of  Izaak  Walton  the  younger  occur. 

"  Thus  variable,  thus  virtuous  was  the  life ;  thus 
excellent,  thus  exemplary  was  the  death  of  this 
memorable  man." 

So  writes  Izaak  Walton,  as  he  prepares  to  add  the 
last  few  sentences  to  that  masterpiece  of  English 
biography  which  he  entitles  the  Life  of  Dr.  John 
Donne.  It  is  no  panegyric ;  it  is  much  less  a  mere 
dry  recital  of  facts.  If,  as  some  tell  us,  poetry  is  the 
language  of  excited  feeling,  never  was  there  a  more 
truly  poetic  story  written  than  Walton's  life  of  Donne. 


218  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

It  is  a  story  told  in  solemn  rhythmic  prose,  throbbing 
with  a  burden  of  tender  memories  and  fond  regrets 
too  full  of  blessed  associations  to  allow  t>f  any  gloom 
in  recording  them.  It  is  an  idealised  picture  of  his 
master,  famous,  calm  and  dead,  drawn  by  a  disciple 
who  had  loved  that  master  with  enthusiastic  loyalty 
and  reverence,  loved  him  "  on  this  side  idolatry." 
Walton  could  afford  to  be  careless  about  details 
and  accessories  when  he  was  setting  down  the  re 
miniscences  of  others  regarding  Donne's  early  life. 
It  seems  he  could  only  have  known  him  intimately  for 
the  five  or  six  years  before  he  died.  They  were  long 
enough,  however,  to  draw  together  by  the  mysterious 
attractive  force  of  sympathy  the  two  men  of  genius 
who  in  the  circumstances  of  their  lives  and  their 
education  had  so  little  in  common.  Once  brought 
together  in  close  relations,  and  a  subtile  affinity 
between  the  two  united  them  more  and  more  closely 
from  day  to  day.  While  Donne  lay  dying,  Walton 
was  always  at  his  side — he  seems  never  to  have  left 
him.  We  have  no  such  grand  and  pathetic  narrative 
of  the  passing  of  a  dying  saint  of  God. 

It  was  not  till  the  31st  March  1631  that  the 
gracious  summons  came. 

Let  Izaak  Walton  draw  the  curtain.  It  would  be 
little  less  than  profanation  to  substitute  for  his  closing 
words  of  this  life's  drama  any  others  that  we  of  the 
common  herd  could  write  down. 

"  The  Sunday  following  he  appointed  his  servants 
that,  if  there  were  any  business  yet  undone  that 
concerned  him  or  themselves,  it  should  be  prepared 
against  Saturday  next,  for  after  that  day  he  would 
not  mix  his  thoughts  with  anything  that  concerned 


LIFE'S  EVENING  AND  THE  SUNSET  219 

this  world,  nor  ever  did ;  but  as  Job,  so  he  '  waited 
for  the  appointed  day  of  his  dissolution.' 

"  And  now  he  was  so  happy  as  to  have  nothing  to  do 
but  to  die,  to  do  which  he  stood  in  need  of  no  longer 
time ;  for  he  had  studied  it  long,  and  to  so  happy  a 
perfection,  that  in  a  former  sickness  he  called  God  to 
witness  (in  his  '  Book  of  Devotions,'  written  then), 
'  He  was  that  minute  ready  to  deliver  his  soul  into 
His  hands,  if  that  minute  God  would  determine  his 
dissolution.'  In  that  sickness  he  begged  of  God  the 
constancy  to  be  preserved  in  that  estate  for  ever ; 
and  his  patient  expectation  to  have  his  immortal  soul 
disrobed  from  her  garment  of  mortality,  makes  me 
confident  that  he  now  had  a  modest  assurance  that 
his  prayers  were  then  heard  and  his  petition  granted. 
He  lay  fifteen  days  earnestly  expecting  his  hourly 
change ;  and  in  the  last  hour  of  his  last  day,  as 
his  body  melted  away,  and  vapoured  into  spirit,  his 
soul  having,  I  verily  believe,  some  revelation  of  the 
beatifical  vision,  he  said,  c  I  were  miserable  if  I  might 
not  die ; '  and  after  those  words,  closed  many  periods 
of  his  faint  breath  by  saying  often,  '  Thy  kingdom 
come,  Thy  will  be  done.'  His  speech,  which  had 
long  been  his  ready  and  faithful  servant,  left  him  not 
till  the  last  minute  of  his  life,  and  then  forsook  him, 
not  to  serve  another  master — for  who  speaks  like 
him — but  died  before  him ;  for  that  it  was  then 
become  useless  to  him  that  now  conversed  with  God 
on  earth  as  angels  are  said  to  do  in  heaven,  only  by 
thoughts  and  looks.  Being  speechless,  and  seeing 
heaven  by  that  illumination  by  which  he  saw  it,  he 
did,  as  St.  Stephen,  '  look  steadfastly  into  it,  till  he 
saw  the  Son  of  Man  standing  at  the  right  hand  of 


220  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

God  His  Father,'  and  being  satisfied  with  this  blessed 
sight,  as  his  soul  ascended  and  his  last  breath  de 
parted  from  him,  he  closed  his  own  eyes,  and  then 
disposed  his  hands  and  body  into  such  a  posture  as 
required  not  the  least  alteration  by  those  that  came 
to  shroud  him. 

"  He  was  buried  in  that  place  of  St.  Paul's  Church 
which  he  had  appointed  for  that  use  some  years 
before  his  death,  and  by  which  he  passed  daily  to 
pay  his  public  devotions  to  Almighty  God,  who  was 
then  served  twice  a  day  by  a  public  form  of  prayer 
and  praises  in  that  place;  but  he  was  not  buried 
privately,  though  he  desired  it,  for,  beside  an  un 
numbered  number  of  others,  many  persons  of  nobility 
and  of  eminence  for  learning,  who  did  love  and 
honour  him  in  his  life,  did  show  it  at  his  death,  by 
a  voluntary  and  sad  attendance  of  his  body  to  the 
grave,  where  nothing  was  so  remarkable  as  a  public 
sorrow. 

"  To  which  place  of  his  burial  some  mournful  friends 
repaired,  and,  as  Alexander  the  Great  did  to  the 
grave  of  the  famous  Achilles,  so  they  strewed  his  with 
an  abundance  of  curious  and  costly  flowers,  which 
course  they,  who  were  never  yet  known,  continued 
morning  and  evening  for  many  days,  not  ceasing  till 
the  stones  that  were  taken  up  in  that  church  to  give 
his  body  admission  into  the  cold  earth — now  his 
bed  of  rest — were  again  by  the  mason's  art  so 
levelled  and  firmed  as  they  had  been  formerly,  and 
his  place  of  burial  undistinguishable  to  common 
view. 

"  The  next  day  after  his  burial  some  unknown  friend, 
some  one  of  the  many  lovers  and  admirers  of  his 


LIFE'S  EVENING  AND  THE  SUNSET  221 

virtue  and  learning,  writ  this  epitaph  with  a  coal  on 
the  wall  over  his  grave : — 

'  Keader !  I  am  to  let  thee  know, 
Donne's  body  only  lies  below ; 
For,  could  the  grave  his  soul  comprise, 
Earth  would  be  richer  than  the  skies ! ' 

"  Nor  was  this  all  the  honour  done  to  his  reverend 
ashes ;  for,  as  there  be  some  persons  that  will  not 
receive  a  reward  for  that  for  which  God  accounts 
Himself  a  debtor,  persons  that  dare  trust  God  with 
their  charity,  and  without  a  witness,  so  there  was  by 
some  grateful  unknown  friend  that  thought  Dr. 
Donne's  memory  ought  to  be  perpetuated,  a  hundred 
marks  sent  to  his  faithful  friends  and  executors  (Dr. 
King  and  Dr.  Montford),  towards  the  making  of  his 
monument.  It  was  not  for  many  years  known  by 
whom ;  but,  after  the  death  of  Dr.  Fox,  it  was  known 
that  it  was  he  that  sent  it,  and  he  lived  to  see  as 
lively  a  representation  of  his  dead  friend  as  marble 
can  express ;  a  statue  indeed  so  like  Dr.  Donne,  that 
— as  his  friend  Sir  Henry  Wotton  hath  expressed 
himself — '  It  seems  to  breathe  faintly,  and  posterity 
shall  look  upon  it  as  a  kind  of  artificial  miracle.' 

"  He  was  of  stature  moderately  tall,  of  a  straight  and 
equally  proportioned  body,  to  which  all  his  words  and 
actions  gave  an  unexpressible  addition  of  comeliness. 

"  The  melancholy  and  pleasant  humour  were  in  him 
so  contempered  that  each  gave  advantage  to  the 
other,  and  made  his  company  one  of  the  delights  of 
mankind. 

"  His  fancy  was  unimitably  high,  equalled  only  by 
his  great  wit,  both  being  made  useful  by  a  command 
ing  judgment. 


222  LIFE  OF  JOHN  DONNE 

"  His  aspect  was  cheerful,  and  such  as  gave  a  silent 
testimony  of  a  clear  knowing  soul,  and  of  a  conscience 
at  peace  with  itself. 

"  His  melting  eye  showed  that  he  had  a  soft  heart, 
full  of  noble  compassion ;  of  too  brave  a  soul  to  offer 
injuries,  and  too  much  a  Christian  not  to  pardon  them 
in  others. 

"  He  did  much  contemplate,  especially  after  he 
entered  into  his  sacred  calling,  the  mercies  of  Al 
mighty  God,  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  and  the 
joys  of  heaven,  and  would  often  say  in  a  kind  of 
sacred  ecstasy,  '  Blessed  be  God  that  He  is  God,  only 
and  divinely  like  Himself.' 

"  He  was  by  nature  highly  passionate,  but  more  apt 
to  reluct  at  the  excesses  of  it.  A  great  lover  of  the 
offices  of  humanity,  and  of  so  merciful  a  spirit  that 
he  never  beheld  the  miseries  of  mankind  without  pity 
and  relief. 

"  He  was  earnest  and  unwearied  in  the  search  of 
knowledge,  with  which  his  vigorous  soul  is  now 
satisfied,  and  employed  in  a  continual  praise  of  that 
God  that  first  breathed  it  into  his  active  body,  that 
body  which  once  was  a  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
and  is  now  become  a  small  quantity  of  Christian 
dust. 

"BUT  I  SHALL  SEE  IT  REANIMATED!" 


APPENDIX  A 


223 


g  a 

Wr^ 


0 

W 

|.s§                          | 

*~^    O    Q                                                                                      " 

0 

II  

11 

M 

w^ 

w 

* 

H  'o 

03 

.SSo 

02    50 

^  u2  ^^* 

•^  t-Ci 

•J*  W 

W  o 

i  *t 

11 

W  s 

H 

sag 

PQ    ^ 

M      ft 

w^1  .S 

Hi       H 

p^    f-l    p 

""^ 

ryi     ^ 

•<  s^ 

^  T^    fl 

d 

88 

g    H 

jv 

?i 

Q 

H    cT 

sg 

^2  a 

^ 

»?H       O 

^ 

S-S 

PH     .  co 

W 
PH 

o  »^ 

fi     0 

5§»  • 
«3 

Ii 

iS 

PH 

0    a 

H.g 

r—  1 

S^^OC) 

^ 

|  0 

pl 

n' 

W  < 

_S3^§ 

p    ^ 

H 

13 

W  "^ 

P3   r2  "5     Of 

&a    O 

55 

o 

"^  g 

W  ^       ^3 

O  h^ 
EH    ^ 
£3    bj 
w  5 

GNES  GRA 

H 

11      ll 

§-=        E-s 

-1-1    c!                       S    S 

1  , 

72 

i 

H 

^ 

^ 

pv  -S 

. 

P 

ii  

n               ^^ 

OQ 

H 

W 

0) 

o|^            g'| 

l« 

&H 

o 

""^  ^ 

^Po                 ^5  g 

CD 

EDIGREE  SHOWING 

r  JOHN  MORE,  Judge 
Common  Pleas. 

r  THOMAS  MORE,  Lo: 
Chancellor.  Execute 
A.D.  1536. 

J3     .     .                ||  

^^              ^ 

1=5    O    rf                   EJ 

<jo  S         M 

IaS    i 

LLIS  HEYWOOD,  Secre 
Cardinal  Pole,  S.J. 
in  banishment,  1578. 

JOHN  DONNE,  D 

PH 

02 

X                           BF                »    .         H 

APPENDIX  B 

DR.  DONNE'S  CHILDREN 

IN  the  monumental  inscription  which  Donne  set  up  in  the 
old  Church  of  St.  Clement  Danes,  in  memory  of  his  wife, 
he  states  that  she  died  on  the  15th  August  1617. — Vii.  post 
xii.  partum  (quorum  vii.  supersunt)  dies. 

Whatever  may  be  meant  by  the  expression  "  xii.  partum" 
it  is  clear  that  at  her  death  Mrs.  Donne  left  seven  children 
behind  her.  Of  each  and  all  of  them  we  can  give  some 
account. 

1.  CONSTANCE  has  been  usually  assumed  to  have  been 

Donne's  eldest  child.  She  was  probably  born  at 
Pyrford  in  1603.  She  married,  first,  Edward  Allen 
in  1623,  and,  secondly,  Samuel  Harvey  in  1630.  Ly 
her  first  husband  she  had  no  offspring ;  by  her  second 
she  had  at  least  three  sons,  whose  names,  but  their 
names  only,  we  know. 

2.  JOHN. — Of  him  a  sufficient  account  will  be  found  in 

the  Dictionary  of  National  Biography.  He,  too, 
was  probably  born  at  Pyrford  in  1604.  He  married 
Mary  Staples,  of  whom  nothing  is  known,  at  Cam 
ber  well,  27th  March  1627.  There  seems  to  have 
been  no  issue  of  the  marriage.  She  seems  to  have 
died  early,  as  no  mention  is  made  of  either  mother 
or  child  in  the  wills  of  Dr.  Donne  or  of  his  son. 

3.  GEORGE. — He  was  baptized  at  Camber  well,  9th  May 

1605.  He  was  a  prisoner  of  war  in  Fiance  at  the 
time  of  his  father's  death,  but  returned  to  England 
in  1633  or  1634,  and  appears  to  have  married  some 
time  after,  for  the  baptism  of  a  daughter  of  his  is 
entered  in  the  Register  of  Camberwell,  22nd  March 
1638.  Nothing  more  is  known  of  him. 

224 


APPENDIX  B  225 

4.  LUCY. — Baptized  at  Micham,  8th  January  1608,  Lady 

Bedford  standing  as  her  godmother.  She  died  un 
married,  and  was  buried  at  Camberwell,  9th  June 
1626. 

5.  BRIDGET. — Unmarried,  but  "of  years  to  govern  her 

self,"  when  her  father  made  his  will ;  was  probably 
born  between  1609  and  1612.  She  became  the  wife 
of  Thomas  Gardiner,  Esq.,  of  Peckham,  son  of  Sir 
Thomas  Gardiner  of  Camberwell  (Blanch,  History  of 
the  Parish  of  Camberwell).  Nothing  further  is 
known  of  her. 

6.  MARGARET.  —  Some    years    after    her    father's    death 

married  Sir  William  Bowles  of  Clerkenwell.  Even 
tually  she  died  at  Chislehurst  in  Kent,  and  was  buried 
in  the  church-porch  there.  She  had  at  least  one 
daughter. 

7.  ELIZABETH. — On  the  18th  May  1637  married  Cornelius 

Lawrence,  Doctor  of  Physic,  at  All  Hallows,  Barking. 

The  last  two  children  were  evidently  young  girls  in  1630. 

It  is  clear  from  the  above,  that  at  the  time  of  Donne's 
death  only  two  of  his  children  were  married.  Constance 
had  at  that  time  no  family ;  and  there  is  a  strong  presump 
tion  that  the  wife  of  his  son  John  was  then  dead,  and  died 
childless. 

My  belief  is  that  neither  of  Donne's  sons  had  any  male 
offspring.  It  is  hardly  conceivable,  that  if  at  the  end  of 
the  seventeenth  century  any  descendants  of  the  Dean 
entitled  to  perpetuate  his  illustrious  name  had  been  still 
living,  the  fact  should  have  remained  undiscovered  down  to 
our  own  time. 


T5 


APPENDIX  C 

DONNE'S  WILL 

IN  THE  NAME  OF  THE  HOLY  BLESSED  AND  GLORIOUS  TfllNlTIE 
AMEN. 

I  JOHN"  DONNE  by  the  Mercye  of  Christe  Jesus  and 
by  the  callinge  of  the  Churche  of  Englande  Preist  beinge  at 
this  tyme  in  good  &  perfect  understandinge  praysed  be  God 
therefore,  doe  hereby  make  my  last  Will  and  Testament  in 
manner  and  forme  followinge. 

Firste  I  give  my  good  and  gracious  God  an  intire  Sacrifice 
of  body  &  soule  wth  my  moste  humble  thanks  for  that  assur 
ance  wch  his  blessed  Spiritt  ymprints  in  me  nowe  of  the 
Salvation  of  the  one  &  the  Resurrection  of  the  other  and 
for  that  constant  &  cheerful  resolucon  wch  the  same  Spiritte 
established  in  me  to  live  &  dye  in  the  Religion  nowe  pro 
fessed  in  the  Churche  of  Englande  In  expectation  of  that 
Kesurrection  I  desyre  that  my  body  may  be  buryed  in  the 
moste  private  manner  that  maye  be  in  that  place  of  Sut. 
Paules  Churche  London  wch  the  nowe  Residentiaries  of  that 
Church  have  bene  pleased  at  my  requeste  to  assigne  for  that 
purpose. 

Item  I  make  my  well  beloved  friends  Henrye  Kinge 
Doctor  of  Divinitie  &  John  Montford  Doctor  of  Divinitie 
bothe  Residentiaries  of  the  Churche  of  Snt.  Pauls  London 
Executors  of  this  my  Will. 

And  my  will  &  desyre  is  that  my  verie  worthie  friend  and 
Kynde  Brother  in  Lawe  Sr  Thomas  Grytnes  of  Peckham  in 
the  Countye  of  Surrye  Knighte  be  Overseer  of  this  my 
Will  To  whom  I  give  hereby  that  strykinge  clocke  wch  I 
ordinarily e  weare  and  alsoe  the  Picture  of  Kinge  James. 

To  Dcor  Kinge  my  Executor  I  give  that  Medall  of  Gold  of 
the  Synod  of  Dort  which  the  Estates  presented  me  wtha11  at 
the  Hague  as  also  the  twoe  Pictures  of  Padre  Paolo  and  Ful- 

2:0 


APPENDIX  C  227 

gentio  \vch  hange  in  the  Parlor.  at  my  house  at  Pauls  and 
to  Doctor  Montford  iny  other  Executor  I  give  forty  ounces 
of  white  plate  and  the  twoe  pictures  that  hange  on  the 
same  syde  of  the  Parlor. 

Item  I  give  to  the  Righte  Honorable  the  Earle  of  Carlisle 
the  Picture  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  Marye  wch  hangs  in  the 
little  Dynynge  Chamber.  And  to  the  Right  Honorable  the 
Earle  of  Dorse(t.  the  Picture  of  Adam  and  Eve  wch  hangs  in 
the  greate  chamber. 

Item  I  give  to  Doctor  Winniffe  Deane  of  Glocester  and 
Residentiarie  of  Sfc.  Pauls  the  Picture  called  the  Sceleton 
\vch  hangs  in  the  Hall  and  to  my  kynde  frend  M'\  George 
Garrard  the  Picture  of  Marye  Magdalene  in  my  Chamber 
and  to  my  ancient  frend  Dcor  Brooke  Master  of  Trinitie 
College  in  Cambridge  the  Picture  of  the  B.  Virgin  and 
Joseph  wch.  hangs  in  my  Studey  and  to  Mr.  Tour  vail  a 
French  Minister  (but  by  the  Ordination  of  the  Englishe 
Churche)  I  give  any  Picture  wch.  he  will  chuse  of  those  wch. 
hange  in  the  little  Dynynge  roome  &  are  not  formerley 
bequeathed. 

Item  I  give  to  my  two  faithfull  servants  Robert  Cliristmass 
and  Thomas  Roper  officers  of  the  Churche  of  S*.  Paul's  to 
cache  of  them  Five  pounds  to  make  them  seale  ringes  en 
graved  wth.  that  Figure  wch.  I  usuallye  seale  wthali.  of  wch. 
sorte  they  knowe  I  have  given  many  to  my  particular 
frendes. 

Item- 1  give  to  my  God  Daughter  Constance  Grymes  Tenn 
pounds  to  be  bestowed  in  plate  for  her. 

Item  I  give  to  that  Mayde  whoe  hathe  many  yeares 
attended  my  Daughters  whose  name  is  Elizabeth,  Twenty 
pounds  if  shee  shall  be  in  my  service  at  the  tyme  of  my 
deathe  and  to  the  other  mayde  servants  wch  shall  be  in  my 
service  at  that  tyme  I  give  a  yeares  wages  over  and  beyond 
that  wch  shall  at  that  time  be  due  to  them. 

Item  I  give  to  Vincent  my  coachman  and  to  my  servant 
John  Cliristmass  to  eache  of  them  Ten  pounds  if  they  be  at 
the  tyme  of  my  deathe  in  my  service. 

Item  I  give  to  Thomas  Moore  a  younge  boy  whome  I 
tooke  latelie  Five  pounds  if  he  shal  be  in  my  service  then 
and  if  any  of  these  servants  shall  be  departed  from  me 
before  I  give  to  overie  man  servant  that  shall  at  that  tyme 


228  APPENDIX  C 

be  in  my  service  a  yeares  wages  over  &  above  that  wch  shall 
be  then  due  to  them. 

Item  I  give  to  each  of  the  petty  canons  and  vicars  chorall 
wch  shall  be  in  the  Churche  of  Sfc.  Paule  at  the  tyme  of  my 
deathe  To  each  of  them  Fortye  shillings  and  Fortye 
shillings  to  the  M1'.  of  the  Choristers  and  Fortye  shillings 
to  be  equally  distributed  amongst  the  then  Choristers. 

Item  I  give  Thirtye  shillings  to  cache  of  the  vergers  and 
to  each  of  the  bell  ringers  Twentye  shillings. 

Item  I  will  and  bequeath  to  my  Cosyn  Jane  Kent  who 
hathe  heretofore  been  servant  to  my  mother  Twelve  pounds 
and  to  my  Cosyn  Edward  Dawson  being  decayed  Twelve 
pounds  and  to  his  Sister  Grace  Dawson  Six  pounds  wch 
proporcon  they  being  aged  persons  I  make  accounte  dothe 
annswere  those  pencons  wch  I  have  yearlie  heretofore  given 
unto  them  and  meant  to  have  contynued  for  theire  lives  if 
it  had  pleased  to  God  to  have  contynued  myne. 

Item  my  will  is  that  the  fower  large  pictures  of  the  fower 
greate  Prophetts  wch  hange  in  the  Hall  and  that  large  picture 
of  ancient  church  work  wch  hange  in  the  Lobby  leadinge 
to  my  chamber  And  whatsovr.  I  have  placd  in  the  Chappell 
(excepted  that  wheele  of  Deskes  wch  at  this  tyme  standes 
there)  shall  remayne  still  in  those  place  As  alsoe  the 
marble  table  sonne  dyall  and  pictures  wch  I  have  placed  in 
the  Garden  of  all  wch  I  desyre  an  Inventorie  may  be  made 
by  sure  Register  and  the  things  to  contynue  alwayes  in  the 
House  as  they  are. 

Item  I  give  to  my  Daughter  Harvye  all  the  furniture  wch 
is  usuallye  in  that  Chamber  wch  wee  cal  the  Flannell 
Chamber  and  in  the  ynner  Chamber  thereof. 

Item  I  give  to  the  Poore  of  the  parish  of  Sfc.  Gregories 
where  I  dwell  Five  pounds.  And  to  the  Poore  of  cache  of 
the  Parrishes  of  Si.  Dunstans  in  the  West  London  &  of 
Seavenoakes  in  Kent  and  of  Blunham  in  Bedfordshire  To 
cache  parish  Twentye  poundes. 

Item  I  give  to  the  Right  Honorable  the  Earle  of  Kent 
Patron  of  that  Churche  of  Blunham  the  Picture  of  layinge 
Christe  in  the  Toinbe  wch  hangs  in  my  Study. 

Item  my  Will  is  that  all  the  former  Legacies  given  in 
monye  be  payde  within  six  weekes  after  my  deathe.  All 
which  Legacies  beinge  soe  payed  and  all  charge  that  can  in 


APPENDIX  C  229 

any  waye  fall  uppon  my  Executors  being  discharged,  my 
Will  is  That  my  plate  &  bookes  (such  bookes  only  beinge 
excepted  as  by  a  Schedule  signde  wth  my  hand  I  shall  give 
awaye)  and  all  my  other  goods  beinge  praysde  and  soulde 
all  my  Poore  Estate  of  money  left  &  money  soe  raised  & 
money  lent  maye  be  distributed  in  manner  and  forme 
following. 

Firste  I  will  that  for  the  mayntenance  of  my  dearly 
beloved  Mother  whome  it  hathe  pleased  God  after  a  plenti- 
full  Fortune  in  her  former  tymes  to  bringe  in  decaye  in  her 
very  olde  age,  there  be  ymployed  Five  hundred  poundes  of 
wch  my  meaninge  is  not  that  the  Propertye  but  only  the 
proffite  shoulde  accrue  to  her  during  her  natural  life  and  after 
her  deathe  the  sayd  Five  hundred  poundes  to  be  divided 
amongste  those  my  children  wch  shall  be  then  alive  And 
because  there  maye  be  some  tyme  before  any  proffitt  of  that 
monye  will  come  to  her  handes  my  will  is  that  Twenty 
poundes  be  payde  unto  her  order  and  besydes  the  benefitte 
of  the  Five  hundred  pounds  at  the  breakinge  up  of  my 
familye  &  her  removinge  from  thence. 

Item  my  Will  is  that  my  children's  portions  shoulde  be 
equall  yf  they  be  unmarried  at  my  deathe  But  if  they  be 
marry ed  before,  they  are  to  content  themselves  wth  that  wch 
they  shall  have  received  from  me  at  theire  marriage  Except 
I  make  some  other  declaration  of  my  Will  by  a  Codicill 
hereafter  to  be  annexed  my  will  neverthelesse  is  that  my 
eldest  daughter  Constance  Harvye  whoe  receyved  from  me 
at  her  firste  marriadge  but  Fyve  hundred  poundes  for 
portion  shal  be  equall  wth  the  rest  whoe  at  my  deathe  are 
to  receive  portions  though  theire  portions  amounte  to  noe 
more  than  Five  hundred  poundes. 

And  therefore  whereas  there  is  at  this  tyme  in  my  handes 
a  conveighance  of  a  certaine  Farme  calld  the  Tannhouse 
from  her  husband  Mr.  Samuel  Harvye  in  consideracon  of 
Twoe  hundred  and  fiftye  poundes  payde  by  me  for  his  use 
in  wch  there  is  a  Provisoe  for  redemption  for  a  certaine 
tyme.  My  will  is  that  if  that  Twoe  hundred  and  fiftie 
poundes  be  accordinglie  payde  it  be  then  added  to  the  whole 
Stocke  wch  is  to  bo  devided  amongste  the  children  If  for 
defaulte  of  payment  it  become  absolutelie  myne  my  will  is 
that  that  land  be  reassured  unto  him  and  his  heires  wth 


230  APPENDIX  C 

this  condicon  &  not  othrwise  that  it  be  added  to  her  Joyn- 
ture  for  hir  lief  if  shee  survive  him  and  if  it  fall  oute 
that  this  land  be  thus  given  backe,  whereby  my  Daughter 
received  Twoe  hundred  and  fiftie  poundes  above  hir  former 
Five  hundred,  my  will  is  that  shee  make  noe  clayme  to  any 
parte  of  my  state  by  any  thinge  formerlye  sayd  in  this  my 
Will  till  all  the  rest  of  my  children  have  received  Seaven 
hundred  &  fiftie  poundes  because  upon  the  whole  matter 
shee  hathe  receyved  so  muche,  yf  I  give  backe  that  land. 
But  if  by  Gods  goodnes  theire  portions  come  to  more,  Then 
shee  is  alsoe  to  enter  for  an  equall  pte  of  the  surplusage 
as  well  in  that  wch  returnes  to  the  children  after  my 
mothers  deathe  as  any  othere  waye  In  all  wch  accrues  wch 
may  come  to  my  Daughter  Harvye  my  will  is  that  uppon 
receipt  thereof  her  husband  make  a  proportionable  addicon 
to  her  Joynture  in  land  or  els  that  that  monye  wch  shall 
soe  accrue  unto  them  maye  come  to  the  longer  liver  of  them. 

Item  I  give  to  my  sonne  George  that  Annuyte  of  Forty e 
pounds  yearelie  for  the  payment  of  wch  my  honorable  frend 
Sr.  John  Davers  of  Chelsey  Knighte  hathe  some  yeares  since 
accepted  from  me  Firste  Twoe  hundred  poundes  and  after 
One  hundred  marcks  of  wch  Annuyte  thoughe  there  be  as 
yett  noe  assurance  made,  yett  there  remayne  wth  me  Bondes 
for  those  sevrall  sommes  And  Sr.  Jolin  Davers  will  uppon 
requeste  made,  either  make  suche  assurance  or  repaye  the 
moneye  as  he  hathe  alwayes  promisd  me  And  my  will  is 
that  whatsov1"  aryses  to  my  other  children  my  sonne  George 
be  made  equall  to  them  that  Two  hundred  poundes  and 
one  hundred  marcks  beinge  accounted  as  part  of  the  Somme. 

Item  my  will  is  that  the  portions  wdl  shall  become  due 
to  my  twoe  Sonnes  John  &  George  &  to  my  eldest  daughter 
Bridgett  yett  unmarryed  be  payed  to  them  as  soone  after 
my  deathe  as  may  be  because  they  are  of  years  to  governe 
theire  portions.  But  for  my  twoe  younger  daughters  Margaret 
and  Elizabeth  my  will  is  that  theire  portions  be  payde  at  the 
dayes  of  theire  severall  marriages  or  at  theire  age  of  Twoe 
and  Twentye  yeares,  theire  portions  to  be  ymployed  in  the 
meane  tyme  for  theire  mayntenance  and  for  the  increase  of 
yeir  portions  if  it  will  beare  it.  And  if  they  or  either  of 
them  dye  before  that  tyme  of  marriage  or  of  twoe  and 
twentye  yeares  that  then  the  portions  of  them  or  either  of 


APPENDIX  C  231 

them  soe  dyenge  shal  be  equallye  devided  amongste  my 
othere  children  wch  shal  be  alyve  at  theire  deathe  And 
because  there  maye  be  some  tyme  before  they  receave  any- 
thinge  for  theire  mayntenance  oute  of  the  ymployment  of 
theire  portions,  my  Will  is  that  to  eache  of  my  children 
John,  George,  Bridcjett,  Margarett  and  Elizabeth  there  be 
Twentye  poundes  payde  at  the  same  tyme  as  I  have  formerlie 
appointed  the  like  somme  to  be  payde  to  my  Mother. 

Item  I  give  to  my  hoiiorable  and  faithful  friendes  Mr 
Robert  Karr  of  his  Mjstys  bedchambr  that  Picture  of  mine 
wch  is  taken  in  Shaddowes  and  was  made  very  many  years 
before  I  was  of  this  Profession  And  to  my  honorable  frend 
Sr  John  Danvers  I  give  what  Picture  he  shall  accept  of 
those  that  remayne  unbequeathed. 

And  this  my  last  Will  and  Testament  made  in  the  feare 
of  God  whose  Mercye  I  humbly  begge  &  constantlye  relye 
uppon  in  Christe  Jesus  &  in  perfccte  love  &  charitie  wth  all 
the  World  e  whose  pardon  I  aske  from  the  lowest  of  my 
Servants  to  the  highest  of  my  Superior8.  I  writt  all  wth 
myne  owne  hand  &  subscribed  my  name  to  everie  page 
thereof  of  wch  there  are  five  &  sealled  the  same  &  published 
and  declared  it  to  be  my  last  Will  the  thirteenth  daye  of 
December  1630 

J  DONNE  in  the  prco  of 


SAMUEL  HARVYE EDW  PICKERELL 

JOHN  HARRINGTON  JOHN  GIBBS 

ROBERT  CHRISTMASS. 


(This   Will   was    proved  5th  April  1631  by  Dr   Henry 
Kinge,  and  Dr  John  Montford,  the  Executors.) 


INDEX 


ABBOT,  Archbishop,  122,  135,  187. 

Robert,  afterwards  Bishop  of 

Salisbury,  55. 

Abrey  Hatch  (or  Alborongh  Hatch), 

202,  203. 

Allegiance,  Oath  of,  65. 
Allen,  Constance,  Donne's  daughter 

(cf.  Donne,  Constance),  161,  202. 

Edward,  husband   of   above, 

founder  of  Dulwich  College,  110, 
161. 

Amiens,  78. 

Anderton,     Lawrence,     S.J.,     real 

author    of   Brerely's    Protestant 

Apologie  for  the  Roman  Church, 

102. 
Andrewes,  Dr.  Lancelot,  Bishop  of 

Winchester,  51,  55,  183. 
Anne,  Queen  of  Denmark,  64,  109, 

124. 

Applause  at  sermons,  138. 
Ark,    Admiral's    ship,    on    Cadiz 

expedition,  15,  16. 
Augustine,  138. 
Aylmer,  Bishop,  162. 

BACON,  Sir  Francis,  68. 

Bancroft,  John,  afterwards  Bishop 

of  Oxford,  133. 

Barking,  All  Hallows,  195,  App.  B. 
Barlow,  Bishop  William,  Answer  to 

a  Catholike  Englishman,  106. 
Bartholomew's,  St.,  Day,  6. 
Bartlet,  Sir  Thomas,  100. 
Beaumont,   Francis,   Lines  to  Ben 

Jonson,  13. 
Bedford,  the  young,  35. 


Bedford,  Lucy,  Countess  of,  42-48, 

194. 

Bemerton,  42. 
Bequest    for    religious     house    at 

Sawtrey,  9. 

Biathanatos,  62,  63,  64,  99. 
Bishopbourne,  54. 
Blunham,  151,  196. 
Bohemia,  King  of,  125. 
Bowles,  Sir  W.,  married  Margaret 

Donne,  App.  B. 
Brerely,    The    Protestant    Apologie 

for    the    Roman     Church,    102. 

Cf.  Anderton. 
Bridge  water,  Lady,  40. 
Brome  (Co.  Suffolk),  101. 
Brooke,  Christopher,  12,  23,  113. 
Broughton,  Mr.  Hugh,  98,  99. 

—  Samuel,  23,  App.  C. 
Brydges,  Grey,  Baron  Chandos  of 

Sudely,  40. 

—  Ann  (n£e  Stanley),  his  wife,  40. 
Buckingham.     Cf.  Villiers. 
Bulstrode,  Cecilia,  46. 


Sir  Julius,  Master  of  the 

Rolls,  27,  51,  122. 
Camberwell,    27,    107,    108,    161, 

App.  B. 

Cambridge  (St.  John's),  55,  112. 
Carew,  Sir  George,  commanded  the 

Mary  Rose  in  the  Cadiz  expedi 

tion,  15,  16. 
-  Sir  Nicholas  Throckmorton, 

Lord  of  the  Manor  of  Micham,  27. 
Carey,  Valentine,  Dean  of  St.  Paul's, 

predecessor  of  Donne,  129,  134. 


233 


234 


INDEX 


Carlisle,     Lord     (cf.    Hay),     169, 

209,  App.  C. 
Carr,  Sir  Robert  (Earl  of  Ancrum), 

63,  73,  189,  App.  C. 
Carr,    Sir  Robert  (Viscount  Roch 
ester,  Earl  of  Somerset),   73-75, 

84. 

Cases  of  Conscience,  61. 
Chamberlain,  169. 
Chandos,    Baron  of    Sudely.     Cf. 

Brydges. 
Charles,  Prince,  153,  168,  171. 

i.,  King,  171, 176,  187,  196. 

Charterhouse,  110. 
Chenies  (Cheneys),  40. 
Chich ester,  Bishop,  217. 
Chigwell,  134. 
Christmass,  John,  App.  C. 

Robert,  App.  C. 

Chrysostom,  138. 

Clement,  John,  3,  App.  A. 

Margaret,  his  wife  (nee  Griggs), 

3,  App.  A. 
Winifred,  daughter,  married 

William  Rastall,  3,  App.  A. 
Cokayne,  Sir  Aston,  179. 

Sir  Thomas,  179. 

Sir  William,  179. 

Lady  (nee  Morris),  wife  of  Sir 

Thomas,  179. 

Mrs.,  197,  211. 

Colchester  Archdeaconry,  134. 
Conway,  Sir  Edward,  97. 
Copley,  Avery,  115. 
Cornwallis,  Sir  W.  and  Lady,  101. 
Cotton,  Bp.,  of  Exeter,  129. 

DANVERS,  Lady,  previously  Mag- 

dalen    Herbert,    42,    175,    192, 

193. 

Danvers,  Sir  John,  App.  C. 
Dawson,  Edward,  cousin  of  Donne, 

App.  C. 
Grace,     cousin    of    Donne, 

App.  C. 
Dee,  John,  39. 

Denmark  House,  110,  171,  172. 
Derby,  Alice  (nee  Spencer),  Countess 

of,  40. 

Devereux,  Walter,  16. 
Dieppe,  78. 


Do  not,  fair  soul,  this  sacrifice  re 
fuse,  47. 

Doncaster,  128,  129.     Cf.  Hay. 
Donne,    Ann    (nte  More),    Dean's 

wife,  20,  etc.  ;  her  illness,  80. 
Ann,  Dean's  sister,  m.  Avery 

Copley,  115. 
Bridget,     Dean's    daughter, 

App.  B. 
Constance,    Dean's  daughter, 

m.,  first,  Edward  Allen;  second, 

Samuel  Harvey,  161,  202,  App. 

B. 
Elizabeth  (nee,  Rastall),  Dean's 

mother,  4,  114,  195,  App.  C. 

—  Francis,  Dean's  son,  93. 
George,  Dean's  son,  a  soldier, 

imprisoned  five  years,   50,   195, 

208,  App.  B. 
Henry,    Dean's    brother,    4, 

5,  10,  11. 

John,  Dean's  father,  2,  8,  10. 

John,  Dean's  son,  194,   218, 

App.  B. 
John,  D.D.,  Dean  of  St.  Paul's, 

parentage,  3  ; 

brought  up  in  the  tenets  of  the 
Church  of  Rome,  10  ; 

went  to  Hart  Hall,  Oxford,  11 ; 

took  no  degree,  travelled  abroad, 
12; 

entered  Lincoln's  Inn,  12  ; 

a  literary  celebrity  in  London,  13; 

personal  attractions,  13 ; 

suspected  of  too  much  sympathy 
with  the  Romanists,  14. 

volunteers  for  Cadiz  expedition, 
16; 

appointed     secretary     to     Lord 
Keeper,  17  ; 

a  poet  and  wit,  18  ; 

an  omnivorous  reader,  20  ; 

marriage,  23 ; 

sent  to  Fleet  Prison,  24  ; 

dismissed  by  Lord  Keeper,  24  ; 

resides  at  Pyrford,  27  ; 

at  Micham,  27  ; 

visits  Earl  of  Northumberland  in 
prison  and  on  release,  40  ; 

becomes  acquainted  with  Herbert 
family  at  Oxford,  41  ; 


INDEX 


235 


Donne,  John — continued. 

assists  Bishop  Morton  in  his 
Catholic  Appeal,  56  ; 

a  good  linguist,  65  ; 

anxious  for  Crown  appointment, 
65  ; 

his  M.A.  degree,  72  ; 

pressed  to  take  holy  orders,  73  ; 

accompanies  Sir  Robert  Drury  on 
a  foreign  tour,  77  ; 

illness  at  Paris,  79  ; 

vision  of  his  wife,  81  ; 

residence  at  Drury  House,  87  ; 

gives  up  poetry,  88  ; 

compelled  to  publish,  90  ; 

ordained,  91  ; 

D.D.  degree  conferred  at  Cam 
bridge,  91. 

first  sermon,  109. 

rector  of  Sevenoaks,  112  ;  of 
Keyston,  112; 

Preacher  at  Lincoln's  Inn,  113  ; 

first  appearance  at  Paul's  Cross, 
122  ; 

death  of  his  wife,  123  ; 

preaches  before  the  Lords  at 
Whitehall  1619,  126  ; 

chaplain  to  Earl  of  Doncaster, 
127; 

accompanies  Doncaster  abroad, 
127  ; 

preaches  before  Prince  and  Prin 
cess  Palatine,  128  ; 

at  the  Hague,  129. 

made  Dean  of  St.  Paul's,  130  ; 

resigns  Preachership  at  Lincoln's 
Inn,  132  ; 

made  Bencher  of  Lincoln's  Inn, 
132; 

Erebendary  of  Chiswick,  141  ; 
ist  sermon  at  Whitehall,  142  ; 
effect  of  his  preaching,  142  ; 
estimate  as  a  theologian,  143  ; 
preaches    at    Temple    on    great 

Sergeants'  Feast,  155 ; 
serious  illness,  155  ; 
writes  Devotions,  156 ; 
Prolocutor  of  Lower  House,  161  ; 
vicar  of  St.  Dunstan's,  162  ; 
last  illness,  204  ; 
memorial  rings,  204  ; 


Donne,  John — continued. 
his  monument,  205 ; 
his  death,  215,  222  ; 
his  burial,  220  ; 
his  will,  226,  App.  C. 

Lucy,  Dean's  daughter,  46, 

App.  B. 

Margaret,    Dean's    daughter, 

married    Sir    W.    Bowles,    196, 

App.  B. 

Nicholas,  Dean's  son,  84. 


Dorset  (Edwd.  Sackville),  Earl,  162. 
Dort,  medal  of  Synod  of,  conferred, 

129,  App.  C. 
Drake,  Sir  F.,  6. 
Dray  ton,  Michael,  12. 
Drury  of  Hawstead,    Sir  Richard 

and  Lady,  76,  77. 

Elizabeth,  their  daughter,  77. 

Drury  House,  77. 

Dulwich,  110. 

Dunstan's,  St.,  118. 

Duties  of  Dean  of  St.  Paul's,  141. 

Dwynns  of  Dwynn,  2. 

EFFINGHAM,  Lord  Howard  of,  Lord 

High  Admiral,  15,  16. 
Egerton,  Sir  T.     Cf.  Ellesmere. 

Lady,  40. 

Thomas,  son,  killed,  21. 

Elizabeth,    Princess,    daughter    of 

James  I.,   wife  of   the    Elector 

Palatine,  83,  127,  etc. 
Elizabeth,   an  old  family  servant, 

196,  App.  C. 

Elizabeth,  Queen,  5,  18,  27. 
Ellesmere,    Lord,    Keeper    of    the 

Great  Seal,  17,  20,  34,  36,  40. 
Essays  in  Divinity,  87. 
Essex,  Robert,  Earl  of,  15,  16,  84. 

FERDINAND,  Archduke  of  Styria, 
Claimant  of  Crown  of  Bohemia, 
head  of  Catholic  League, 125 ,128. 

Ferrar,  Nicholas,  90,  149. 

Fowler,  William,  64,  65. 

Fox,  Dr.,  196,  205. 

Frederick,   Elector  Palatine,  mar 
ries  Princess  Elizabeth,  83. 
—   head    of    Protestant  Union, 
125,  127. 


236 


INDEX 


Frederick,  Elector  Palatine,  elected 

King  of  Bohemia,  125. 
Friars  Observants,  9. 

GARDINER,  Sir  Thomas,   and  son, 

App.  B. 
Garrat   or    Garrard,    Mr.    George, 

Master    of    Charterhouse,    106, 

107,  208,  App.  C. 
Gibbs,  John,  App.  C. 
Goodere,  Francis,  49. 

Goodere,  Sir  Henry,  of  Polesworth, 
34,  48,  49,  76,  90,  130,  139,  194. 

Greenwich,  109. 

Grey,  Charles,  Earl  of  Kent,  151. 

Gritfen,  Edward,  109. 

Griffith,  Matthew,  163,  164. 

Griggs,  Margaret  (cf.  Clement),  3, 
App.  A. 

Grymes,  Constance,  goddaughter 
of  the  Dean,  App.  C. 

Jane,  mother  of  Sir  Thos. ,  mar 
ried,  secondly,  Sir  T.  Hunt,  108. 

Sir  Thomas  (arid   Lady),  27, 

108,  161,  203,  App.  C. 
Gunpowder  Plot,  39,  54. 

HAIL,  BISHOP  VALENTINE,  ivhose  day 

this  is !  84. 
Haines,  Mr.,  35. 
Hakewill,  William,  51. 
Hall,    Joseph,    Bishop  of    Exeter, 

183,  184. 

Hamilton,  Marquis,  169. 
Hanworth,  145,  146,  175. 
Harrington,     John,     witness      of 

Donne's  will,  App.  C. 
Sir  John,  Lord  of  Exton,  father 

of  Lady  Bedford,  42,  47,  90. 
second  Lord,  brother  of  Lady 

Bedford,  47. 

William,  4. 

Harriott,  Thomas,  the  astronomer, 

39. 
Harvey,  Mr.,  afterwards  Sir  James, 

8,  202. 

Samuel,  202,  App.  C. 

Hay,  James,  Lord,  Earl  of  Don- 
caster,  then  Earl  of  Carlisle,  69, 

91,  110,  111,  122,  125,  128,  129, 

142,  169. 


Hazard,  Nathaniel,  208. 

Heidelberg,  127. 

Henrietta     Maria,    wife    of    King 

Charles  I.,  169. 
Henry,  Prince  of  Wales,  83. 
Herbert, Edward,  Lord  of  Cherbury, 

10,  41,  63,  107. 
George,  89,  90. 

Magdalen,    Mrs.,    afterwards 

Lady  Danvers,  41,  101,  etc. 

Richard,     of     Montgomery 

Castle,  41,  84. 

Hey  wood,  Elizabeth  (nM  Rastall),  3 
Elizabeth     (married     John 


Donne),  Dean's  mother,  7. 

Ellis,  Dean's  uncle,  4,  App. 

A. 

Jasper,  Dean's  uncle,  4,  10, 

App.  A. 

John,  Donne's  maternal  grand 
father,  4. 

Hooker,  Richard,  D.D.,  54. 

Hoskins,  John,  12. 

Howard,  Thomas,  7,  84. 

Hunt,  Sir  Thomas,  of  Foulsham, 
108. 

IGNATIUS  his  Conclave,  68,  80. 
Infanta  Maria,  153. 
Inscription  on  Donne's  wife's  monu 
ment,  124. 

JAMES  I.  enforces  oath  of  allegi 
ance,  68,  112,  124  ;  progress  to 
Scotland,  122  ;  arbitrator  be 
tween  the  conflicting  German 
princes,  125 ;  promotes  Donne 
to  the  deanery,  129  ;  his  Instruc 
tion  to  Preachers,  146  ;  ill-health, 
154,  168  ;  death,  171. 

Jesuits,  English,  67. 

Jewel,  Bishop,  53. 

Jones,  Inigo,  110. 

Jonson,  Ben,  12. 

KENT,  Jane,    cousin  to  the  Dean, 

App.  C. 

Keystone,  112,  175. 
King,     Henry,     poet,     Bishop    of 

Chichester,  133,  206,   216,    217, 

221,  App.  C. 


INDEX 


237 


King,  John,  Bishop  of  London,  87, 
91,  133. 

John,  his  son,  133. 

Kingsmill,  Sir  George,  50  ;  Lady,  51. 
Knoll,  175. 

LAWRENCE,  Cornelius,  M.D.,  mar 
ried  Elizabeth  Donne,  App.  B. 

Lincoln's  Inn,  Bible  given  by 
Donne  to  the  library,  132. 

Letters  to  Several  Persons  of  Honour, 
50. 

to  Sir  Robert  Carr,  107,  156, 

170,  189,  190. 

to  Lady  Bedford,  44,  45. 

to  Mrs.  Cokayne,  197,  208. 

to  a  Friend,  157. 

to  Sir  Henry  Goodere  of 

Polesworth,  24,  34,  66,  93,  94, 
95. 

to  George  Garrett,  106,  107. 

to  "A.  V.  Merced,"  99,  101. 

103. 

to  Lord  Keeper  Egerton,  33, 

36. 

to  his  Mother,  115. 

to  Sir  George  More,  24,  30. 

to  Lord  Rochester,  74. 

to  Lord  Somerset  (Sir  R.  Carr), 

81. 

MALINES,  3,  4. 

Markham,  Lady,  46. 

Martin,  Richard,  51. 

Mary,  Queen,  155. 

Marylebone,  109. 

Mason,  Henry,  133. 

Matthias,  Emperor,  124. 

Meadows,  Dr.,  Rector  of  St.  Gabriel, 

172. 

Meautys,  Mistress,  100,  101. 
Mermaid  Tavern,  12. 
Micham  or  Mitcham,  27,  44,   46, 

60,  93,  95. 
Montagu,   Dr.   Richard,  183,   186, 

187,  217. 
Montagu,    Bishop    of    Bath    and 

Wells,  85,  183. 

Montford,  Dr.  John,  216,  App.  C. 
Monument  suggested  by  Dr.  Fox, 

designed  by  himself,  205. 


Moor  Park,  42. 

Moore,   Thomas,    Dean's    servant, 

App.  C. 
More,  Agnes,  wife  of  Sir  John  (nee 

Granger),  App.  A. 
Ann,  marriage  with  Dr.  Donne, 

22.     Cf.  Donne,  A. 
Elizabeth,  sister  of  Sir  Thomas, 

App.  A. 
Margaret,  second  daughter  of 

Sir     George    More     of    Losely, 

married  Sir  T.  Grymes,  161. 

Sir  Thomas,  App.  A. 

Morris,  Richard,   father  of  Mary, 

wife  of  Sir  "W.  Cokayne,  179. 
Morton,  Dr.,  Dean  of  Gloucester, 

afterwards  Bishop   of  Lichfield, 

51,  52,  55,  56,  57,  187. 
Moulin,  Peter  du,  108. 
Mountaine,  Dean  of  Westminster, 

85. 

NEVE,  LE,  53. 
Nicholas,  St.,  Olave,  8. 
Northumberland,  Earl  of.  V.  Percy. 
Notker,  St.,  96. 

Nowell,  Dean  of  St.  Paul's,  author 
of  the  Catechism,  53. 

OATH  of  Allegiance,  65,  70. 
O'fflahertie,  Rev.  T.,  115. 
Ostend,  35. 
Overbury,  SirT.,  85,  112. 

PADDINGTON,  109. 

Parr,  Katharine,  Queen,  145. 

Parsons,  Robert,  53,  67. 

Paul's  Cross,  134. 

Peckham,  App.  B,  C. 

Pembroke,  Lord,  35. 

Percy,  Henry,  Earl  of  Northumber 
land,  23,  39,  144,  209. 

Perkins,  55. 

Petworth,  144. 

Philip  ii.,  153. 

iv.,  153,  168. 

Pickerel],  Edward,  App.  C. 

Pierse,  W.,  Bishop  of  Peterborough, 
133. 

Pius  v.,  Pope,  his  bull  excommuni 
cating  Queen  Elizabeth,  5. 


238 


INDEX 


Plague,  The,  172,  173. 

Polesworth,  34-48. 

Pory,  Mr.,  106,  107. 

Prague,  128. 

Prebendaries    of  St.    Paul's,    132, 

180. 

Preston,  Dr.,  187. 
Privy  Seal,  Lord,  122. 
Problems,  61. 

Pseudo  Martyr,  57,  70,  72. 
Pyrford,  16,  21,  27,  App.  C. 

RAINSFORD,  Mr.,  third  husband  of 

Donne's  mother,  115,  117. 
Raleigh,  Sir  Walter,  15,  16,  39. 
Rastall,    Elizabeth   (nde  More),   3, 

App.  A. 
Elizabeth,  wife  of  J.  Hey  wood, 

3,  App.  A. 

John,  3,  App.  A. 

William,  3,  App.  A. 

Winifred  (n&  Clement),  3. 

Ratpetus,  monk  of  Suevia,  96. 
Recusants,  56,  65. 
Rings  designed  by  Donne,  42,  204. 
Rochester  (Robt.  Can),  Earl  of,  73, 

75,  81,  84. 

Roper,  Thomas,  App.  C. 
Rudde,    Dr.    Anthony,    Dean    of 

Gloucester,  14. 
Rudolph  ii.,  125. 

SACKVILLE,  Richard,  Earl  of 
Dorset,  162. 

Salisbury,  Lord,  73,  81. 

Sanderson,  Bishop,  183. 

Saravia,  53,  54. 

Sawtrey,  8. 

Sermons  —  first  sermon  preached 
at  Paddington,  109  ;  earliest 
dated  at  Greenwich,  109;  at 
Whitehall,  111  ;  Lincoln's  Inn, 
118  ;  fourteen  published  speci 
mens,  119,  120,  126  ;  at  Paul's 
Cross,  122  ;  frequently  at  White 
hall,  124  ;  at  Heidelberg,  128  ; 
at  St.  Paul's,  131  ;  first  as  Dean, 
142  ;  at  Han  worth,  145  ;  at 
Paul's  Cross  to  explain  Instruc 
tions,  146  ;  before  the  Vir 
ginian  Co.,  149 ;  at  consecra 


tion  of  Lincoln's  Inn  Chapel, 
153  ;  first  at  St.  Dunstan's,  164  ; 
there  extempore,  166 ;  first  to 
King  Charles  i.,  171,  176  ;  on 
death  of  Lady  Danvers,  192 ; 
later,  196,  200  ;  the  last,  202. 

Seldon,  John,  12. 

Sevenoaks,  Rector  of,  112,  196. 

Shakespeare  at  the  Mermaid 
Tavern,  12. 

Shallow,  Justice,  42. 

Shelton,  Sir  Joseph,  109. 

Mr.  Samuel,  109. 

Simmonds,  second  husband  of 
Donne's  mother  (?),  115. 

Simpson,  Mr.  Richard,  Life  of 
Edward  Campion,  60. 

Since  I  am  coming  to  that  holy  room 

Somerset  House,  110. 
Southampton,  Lord,  149. 
Spain,  King  of,  35. 
Spanish  marriage,  168. 
Spencer,    Sir    John,    of   Althorpe, 

40. 
Staples,  Mary,  wife  of  the  Dean's 

eldest  son,  John,  App.  B. 
Suffolk.      V.  Howard,  7,  84. 
Sutton,   founder  of    Charterhouse, 

110. 
Symposia  at  Court  of  King  James  I. , 

69. 

Thavies  Inn,  4. 
Theobalds,  171. 
Tourvall,  Mr.,  a  French  minister, 

App.  C. 
Tricombs,  94. 
Twickenham,  43,  48. 
Tyrrels,  35. 

UNIVERSITIES,  early  entrance  of  the 

sons  of  Catholic  gentry,  11. 
Ussher,  Archbishop,  183. 
Uvedall  House,  175. 

VALEDICTION.     A,     forbidding    to 

mourn,  77. 

Vere,  Sir  Francis,  15,  16,  35. 
Villiers,  Earl  of  Buckingham,  110, 

144,  145,  153. 


INDEX 


239 


Vincent,  Donne's  coachman,  App. 
C. 

WALTON,     Izaak,     biographer    of 

Donne,  109  and  passim. 
his      near     neighbour     at 

St.  Dunstan's,  166. 

watches  his  dying-bed,  218. 

Izaak,  the  younger,  217. 

Weldon,  51. 

White,  Francis,  Dean  of  Carlisle, 

187. 

Thomas,  Dr.,  162. 

Whitehall,  112. 


Willoughby,  Lord,  35. 

Williams,  John,  Bishop  of  Lincoln, 

183. 
Wilt  Thou  forgive  that  sin  where  I 

begun,  206. 
Winniffe,    Dr.    Thomas,    Donne's 

successor    as    Dean,    133,    216, 

App.  C. 

Winwood,  Ralph,  secretary,  122. 
Wooley,   Sir  Francis,   of  Pyrford, 

16,  21,  59. 
Wotton,  Sir  Henry,  11,  86,  87. 

YORK  HOUSE,  31. 


PRINTED  BY 
MORRISON   AND  OIBB  LIMITED,   EDINBURGH, 


A  CATALOGUE  OF  BOOKS 

AND    ANNOUNCEMENTS    OF 

METHUEN    AND    COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS  :  LONDON 

36  ESSEX  STREET 

W.C. 

CONTENTS 

PAGB 
FORTHCOMING  BOOKS,  ....  2 

POETRY,  .  10 

BELLES   LETTRES,  ...  .II 

ILLUSTRATED  BOOKS,    .....  13 

HISTORY,    .  ....  14 

BIOGRAPHY,         .  1 6 

TRAVEL,  ADVENTURE  AND  TOPOGRAPHY,         .  .  l8 

GENERAL  LITERATURE,  ...  .19 

SCIENCE,  ......  21 

PHILOSOPHY,        ......  22 

THEOLOGY,  ......  22 

LEADERS  OF  RELIGION,  .  .24 

FICTION,  ...  25 

BOOKS  FOR  BOYS  AND  GIRLS,      .  •  34 

THE  PEACOCK  LIBRARY,  .  •  35 

UNIVERSITY    EXTENSION    SERIES,  •  •  •  35 

SOCIAL  QUESTIONS  OF  TO-DAY,  ...  36 

CLASSICAL  TRANSLATIONS,        ....  37 

EDUCATIONAL  BOOKS,  .  .  -38 

NOVEMBER    1897 


NOVEMBER  1897. 

MESSRS.     METHUEN'S 

ANNOUNCEMENTS 


Poetry 


SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS.     Edited,  with  an  Introduction  and 
Notes,  by  GEORGE  WYNDHAM,  M. P.     Crown  8vo.     Bttckram.     6s. 

This  is  a  volume  of  the  sonnets  and  lesser  poems  of  Shakespeare,  and  is  prefaced 
with  an  elaborate  Introduction  by  Mr.  Wyndbam. 

ENGLISH  LYRICS.  Selected  and  Edited  by  W.  E.  HENLEY. 
Crown  8vo.  Buckram.  6s. 

Also  1 5  copies  on  Japanese  paper.     Demy  8vo.     £2,  2s.  net. 
Few  announcements  will  be  more  welcome  to  lovers  of  English  verse  than  the  one 
that  Mr.   Henley  is  bringing  together  into   one   book   the  finest   lyrics  in    our 
language. 

NURSERY  RHYMES.  With  many  Coloured  Pictures.  By 
F.  D.  BEDFORD.  Small  4/0.  $s. 

This  book  has  many  beautiful  designs  in  colour  to  illustrate  the  old  rhymes. 

THE  ODYSSEY  OF  HOMER.  A  Translation  by  J.  G. 
CORDERY.  Crown  8vo.  Js.  6d. 

Travel  and  Adventure 

BRITISH  CENTRAL  AFRICA.  By  Sir  H.  H.  JOHNSTON, 
K.C.B.  With  nearly  Two  Hundred  Illustrations,  and  Six  Maps. 
Crown  4/0.  30^.  net. 

CONTENTS. — {i)  The  History  of  Nyasaland  and  British  Central  Africa  generally, 
(a)  A  detailed  description  of  the  races  and  languages  of  British  Central  Africa. 
(3)  Chapters  on  the  European  settlers  and  missionaries  ;  the  Fauna,  the  Flora, 
minerals,  and  scenery.  (4)  A  chapter  on  the  prospects  of  the  country. 

WITH  THE  GREEKS  IN  THESSALY.  By  W.  KINNAIRD 
ROSE,  Reuter's  Correspondent.  With  Plans  and  23  Illustrations. 
Crown  8vo.  6s. 

A  history  of  the  operations  in  Thessaly  by  one  whose  brilliant  despatches  from  the 
seat  of  war  attracted  universal  attention. 

THE   BENIN    MASSACRE.      By    CAPTAIN    BOISRAGON. 

With  Portrait  and  Map.     Crown  &vo.     35-.  6d. 

This  volume  is  written  by  one    of  the    two  survivors  who   escaped    the   terrible 
massacre  in  Benin  at  the  beginning  of  this  year.     The  author  relates  in  detail  his 
adventures  and  his  extraordinary  escape,  and  adds  a  description  of  the  country    \ 
and  of  the  events  which  led  up  to  the  outbreak. 


MESSRS.  METHUEN'S  ANNOUNCEMENTS         3 

FROM  TONKIN  TO  INDIA.  By  PRINCE  HENRI  OF 
ORLEANS.  Translated  by  HAMLEY  BENT,  M.A.  With  80  Illus 
trations  and  a  Map.  Crown  4/0.  25^. 

The  travels  of  Prince  Henri  in  1895  from  China  to  the  valley  of  the  Bramaputra 
covered  a  distance  of  2100  miles,  of  whith  1600  was  through  absolutely  unexplored 
country.  No  fewer  than  seventeen  ranges  of  mountains  were  crossed  at  altitudes 
of  from  11,000  to  13,000  feet.  The  journey  was  made  memorable  by  the  discovery 
of  the  sources  of  the  Irrawaddy.  To  the  physical  difficulties  of  the  journey  were 
added  dangers  from  the  attacks  of  savage  tribes.  The  book  deals  with  many  of 
the  burning  political  problems  of  the  East,  and  it  will  be  found  a  most  important 
contribution  to  the  literature  of  adventure  and  discovery. 


THREE  YEARS  IN  SAVAGE  AFRICA.  By  LIONEL  DECLE. 
With  an  Introduction  by  H.  M.  STANLEY,  M.P.  With  100  Illus 
trations  and  5  Maps.  Demy%>vo.  2ls. 

Few  Europeans  have  had  the  same  opportunity  of  studying  the  barbarous  parts  of 
Africa  as  Mr.  Decle.  Starting  from  the  Cape,  he  visited  in  succession  Bechuana- 
land,  the  Zambesi,  Matabeleland  and  Mashonaland,  the  Portuguese  settlement  on 
the  Zambesi,  Nyasaland,  Ujiji,  the  headquarters  of  the  Arabs,  German  East 
Africa,  Uganda  (where  he  saw  fighting  in  company  with  the  late  Major  '  Roddy ' 
Owen),  and  British  East  Africa.  In  his  book  he  relates  his  experiences,  his 
minute  observations  of  native  habits  and  customs,  and  his  views  as  to  the  work 
done  in  Africa  by  the  various  European  Governments,  whose  operations  he  was 
able  to  study.  The  whole  journey  extended  over  7000  miles,  and  occupied 
exactly  three  years. 


WITH  THE  MOUNTED  INFANTRY  IN  MASHONA 
LAND.  By  Lieut. -Colonel  ALDERSON.  With  numerous  Illustra 
tions  and  Plans.  Demy  8ev.  12s.  6d. 

This  is  an  account  of  the  military  operations  in  Mashonaland  by  the  officer  who 
commanded  the  troops  in  that  district  during  the  late  rebellion.  Besides  its 
interest  as  a  story  of  warfare,  it  will  have  a  peculiar  value  as  an  account  of  the 
services  of  mounted  infantry  by  one  of  the  chief  authorities  on  the  subject. 

THE  HILL  OF  THE  GRACES:  OR,  THE  GREAT  STONE 
TEMPLES  OF  TRIPOLI.  By  H.  S.  COWPER,  F.S.A.  With  Maps, 
Plans,  and  75  Illustrations.  Demy  &vo.  los.  6rf. 

A  record  of  two  Journeys  through  Tripoli  in  1895  and  1896.  The  book  treats  of  a 
remarkable  series  of  megalithic  temples  which  have  hitherto  been  uninvestig.ited, 
and  contains  a  large  amount  of  new  geographical  and  archaeological  matter.  " 


ADVENTURE  AND  EXPLORATION  IN  AFRICA.  By 
Captain  A.  ST.  H.  GIBBONS,  F.R.G.S.  With  Illustrations  by 
C.  WHYMPER,  and  Maps.  DemyZvo.  2is. 

This  is  an  account  of  tnxve^and  adventure  among  the  Marotse  and  contiguous  tribes, 
with  a  description  of  their  customs,  characteristics,  and  history,  together  with  the 
author's  experiences  in  hunting  big  game.  The  illustrations  are  by  Mr.  Charles 
Whymper,  and  from  photographs.  There  is  a  map  by  the  author  of  the  hitherto 
unexplored  regions  lying  between  the  Zambezi  and  Kafukwi  rivers  and  from  18° 
to  15°  S.  lat. 


4         MESSRS,  METHUEN'S  ANNOUNCEMENTS 
History  and  Biography 

A   HISTORY   OF   EGYPT,  FROM  THE  EARLIEST  TIMES  TO 
THE  PRESENT  DAY.    Edited  by  W.  M.  FLINDERS  PETRIE,  D.C.L., 
LL.D.,  Professor  of  Egyptology  at  University  College.     Fttlly  Illus 
trated.     In  Six  Vohimes.      Crown  8v0.     6s.  each. 
VOL.   V.   ROMAN  EGYPT.     By  J.  G.  MILNE. 

THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF  THE  ROMAN  EMPIRE. 
By  EDWARD  GIBBON.  A  New  Edition,  edited  with  Notes, 
Appendices,  and  Maps  by  J.  B.  BURY,  M.A.,  Fellow  of  Trinity 
College,  Dublin.  In  Seven  Volumes.  Demy  Sve,  gilt  top.  8s.  6d. 
each.  Crown  %vo.  6s.  each.  Vol.  IV. 

THE  LETTERS  OF  VICTOR  HUGO.  Translated  from  the 
French  by  F.  CLARKE,  M.A.  In  Two  Volumes.  Demy  &vo. 
ids.  6d.  each.  Vol.  II.  1835-72. 

This  is  the  second  volume  of  one  of  the  most  interesting  and  important  collection  of 
letters  ever  published  in  France.  The  correspondence  dates  from  Victor  Hugo's 
boyhood  to  his  death,  and  none  of  the  letters  have  been  published  before. 

A  HISTORY  OF  THE  GREAT  NORTHERN  RAILWAY, 
1 845-95.  By  C.  II.  GRIN  LING.  With  Maps  and  Illustrations. 
Demy  $>vo.  lay.  6d. 

A  record  of  Railway  enterprise  and  development  in  Northern  England,  containing 
much  matter  hitherto  unpublished.  It  appeals  both  to  the  general  reader  and  to 
those  specially  interested  in  railway  construction  and  management. 

A  HISTORY  OF  BRITISH  COLONIAL  POLICY.  By 
H.  E.  EGKRTON,  M.A.  Demy  &vo.  12s.  6d. 

This  book  deals  with  British  Colonial  policy  historically  from  the  beginnings  of 
English  colonisation  down  to  the  present  day.  The  subject  has  been  treated  by 
itself,  and  it  has  thus  been  possible  within  a  reasonable  compass  to  deal  with  a 
mass  of  authority  which  must  otherwise  be  sought  in  the  State  papers.  The 
volume  is  divided  into  five  parts: — (i)  The  Period  of  Beginnings,  1497-1650; 
(2)  Trade  Ascendancy,  1651-1830  ;  (3)  The  Granting  of  Responsible  Government, 
1831-1860;  (4)  Lai 'ssez  A  Her,  1861-1885  ;  (5)  Greater  Britain. 

A     HISTORY    OF    ANARCHISM.       By    E.    V.    ZENKER. 

Translated  from  the  German.     Demy  Xvo.       js.  6d. 

A  critical  study  and  history,  as  well  as  a  powerful  and  trenchant  criticism,  of  the 
Anarchist  movement  in  Europe.  The  book  has  aroused  considerable  attention 
on  the  Continent. 

THE  LIFE  OF  ERNEST  RENAN     By  MADAME  DARMKS- 

TETER.     With  Portrait.     Crown  8vo.     6s. 
A  biography  of  Renan  by  one  of  his  most  intimate  friends. 

A  LIFE  OF  DONNE.      By  AUGUSTUS  JESSOPP,  D.D.     With 

Portrait.      Crown  Svo.  $s.  6d. 

This  is  a  new  volume  of  the  '  Leaders  of  Religion"  series,  from  the  learned  and  witty 
pen  of  the  Rector  of  Seaming,  who  has  been  able  to  embody  the  results  of  much 
research. 


MESSRS.  METHUEN'S  ANNOUNCEMENTS         5 

OLD  HARROW  DAYS.     By  J.  G.  COTTON  MINCHIN.     Crown 
%vo.     $s. 

A  volume  of  reminiscences  which  will  be  interesting  to  old  Harrovians  and  to  many 


of  the  general  public. 


Theology 


A    PRIMER   OF   THE   BIBLE.    By  Prof.  W.  H.  BENNETT. 

Crown  %vo.     2s.  6d. 

This  Primer  sketches  the  history  of  the  books  which  make  up  the  Bible,  in  the  light 
of  recent  criticism.  It  gives  an  account  of  their  character,  origin,  and  composi 
tion,  as  far  as  possible  in  chronological  order,  with  special  reference  to  their 
relations  to  one  another,  and  to  the  history  of  Israel  and  the  Church.  The 
formation  of  the  Canon  is  illustrated  by  chapters  on  the  Apocrypha  (Old  and 
New  Testament);  and  there  is  a  brief  notice  of  the  history  of  the  Bible  since  the 
close  of  the  Canon. 

LIGHT  AND  LEAVEN  :  HISTORICAL  AND  SOCIAL  SERMONS. 
By  the  Rev.  H.  HENSLEY  HENSON,  M.A.,  Fellow  of  All  Souls', 
Incumbent  of  St.  Mary's  Hospital,  Ilford.  Crown  8v0.  6s. 

gkbotimtal  <§eru0 

THE  CONFESSIONS  OF  ST.  AUGUSTINE.  Newly  Trans 
lated,  with  an  Introduction,  by  C.  BIGG,  D.D.,  late  Student  of 
Christ  Church.  With  a  Frontispiece.  i8;w.  is.  6d. 

This  little  book  is  the  first  volume  of  a  new  Devotional  Series,  printed  in  clear  type, 

and  published  at  a  very  low  price. 
This  volume  contains  the  nine   books  of  the  'Confessions'  which  'are  suitable  for 

devotional  purposes.     The  name  of  the  Editor  is  a  sufficient  guarantee  of  the 

excellence  of  the  edition. 

THE  HOLY  SACRIFICE.     By  F.  WESTON,  M.A.,  Curate  of 

St.  Matthew's,  Westminster.     iSmo.     is. 
A  small  volume  of  devotions  at  the  Holy  Communion. 

Naval  and  Military 

A  HISTORY  OF  THE  ART  OF  WAR.  By  C.  W.  OMAN, 
M.  A.,  Fellow  of  All  Souls',  Oxford.  DemyKvo.  Illustrated.  2is. 

Vol.  II.  MEDIAEVAL  WARFARE. 

Mr.  Oman  is  engaged  on  a  History  of  the  Art  of  War,  of  which  the  above,  though 
covering  the  middle  period  from  the  fall  of  the  Roman  Empire  to  the  general  use 
of  gunpowder  in  Western  Europe,  is  the  first  instalment.  The  first  battle  dealt 
with  will  be  Adrianople  (578)  and  the  last  Navarette  (1367).  There  will  appear 
later  a  volume  dealing  with  the  Art  of  War  among  the  Ancients,  and  another 
covering  the  isth,  i6th,  and  i7th  centuries. 

The  book  will  deal  mainly  with  tactics  and  strategy,  fortifications  and  siegecraft,  but 
subsidiary  chapters  will  give  some  account  of  the  development  of  arms  and  armour, 
and  of  the  various  forms  of  military  organization  known  to  the  Middle  Ages. 


6          MESSRS.  METHUEN'S  ANNOUNCEMENTS 

A  SHORT  HISTORY  OF  THE  ROYAL  NAVY,  FROM 
EARLY  TIMES  TO  THE  PRESENT  DAY.  By  DAVID  HANNAY. 
Illustrated.  2  Vols.  Demy  8vo.  •js.  6d.  each.  Vol.  I. 
This  book  aims  at  giving  an  account  not  only  of  the  fighting  we  have  done  at  sea, 
but  of  the  growth  of  the  service,  of  the  part  the  Navy  has  played  in  the  develop 
ment  of  the  Empire,  and  of  its  inner  life. 

THE  STORY  OF  THE  BRITISH  ARMY.  By  Lieut. -Colonel 
COOPER  KING,  of  the  Staff  College,  Camberley.  Illustrated.  Demy 
Svo.  Js.  6d. 

This  volume  aims  at  describing  the  nature  of  the  different  armies  that  have  been 
formed  in  Great  Britain,  and  how  from  the  early  and  feudal  levies  the  present 
'standing  army  came  to  be.  The  changes  in  tactics,  uniform,  and  armament  are 
briefly  touched  upon,  and  the  campaigns  in  which  the  army  has  shared  have 
been  so  far  followed  as  to  explain  the  part  played  by  British  regiments  in  them. 

General  Literature 

THE     OLD     ENGLISH     HOME.      By    S.   BARING-GOULD. 

With  numerous  Plans  and  Illustrations.     Crown  %vo.     *]s.  6d. 
This  book,  like  Mr.  Baring-Gould's  well-known  'Old  Country  Life,'  describes  the 
life  and  environment  of  an  old  English  family. 

OXFORD  AND  ITS  COLLEGES.  By  J.  WELLS,  M.A., 
Fellow  and  Tutor  of  Wadham  College.  Illustrated  by  E.  II.  NEW. 
Fcap.  8v0.  3-r.  Leather,  ^s. 

This  is  a  guide — chiefly  historical — to  the  Colleges  of  Oxford.  It  contains  numerous 
illustrations. 

VOCES  ACADEMICS.  By  C.  GRANT  ROBERTSON,  M.A., 
Fellow  of  All  Souls',  Oxford.  With  a  Frontispiece,  Fcap.  8vo. 
3J.  6<t. 

This  is  a  volume  of  light  satirical  dialogues  and  should  be  read  by  all  who  are  inter 
ested  in  the  life  of  Oxford. 

A   PRIMER   OF   WORDSWORTH.     By  LAURIE  MAGNUS. 

Crown  8v0.     2s.  6d. 

This  volume  is  uniform  with  the  Primers  of  Tennyson  and  Burns,  and  contains  a 
concise  biography  of  the  poet,  a  critical  appreciation  of  his  work  in  detail,  and  a 
bibliography. 

NEO-MALTHUSIANISM.    By  R.  USSHER,  M.A.    Cr.  Svo.   6s. 

This  book  deals  with  a  very  delicate  but  most  important  matter,  namely,  the  volun 
tary  limitation  of  the  family,  and  how  such  action  affects  morality,  the  individual, 
and  the  nation. 

PRIM/EVAL  SCENES.     By  H.  N.  HUTCHINSON,  B.A.,  F.G.S., 

Author  of  'Extinct  Monsters,'  'Creatures  of  Other  Days,'  'Pre 
historic  Man  and  Beast,'  etc.  With  numerous  Illustrations  drawn 
by  JOHN  HASSALL  and  FRED.  V.  BURRIDGE.  4/0.  6s. 

A  set  of  twenty  drawings,  with  short  text  to  each,  to  illustrate  the  humorous  aspects 
of  pre-historic  times.  They  are  carefully  planned  by  the  author  so  as  to  be 
scientifically  and  archaeologically  correct  and  at  the  same  time  amusing. 


MESSRS.  METHUEN'S  ANNOUNCEMENTS         7 

THE    WALLYPUG    IN    LONDON.      By    G.    E.    FARROW, 
Author  of  'The  Wallypug  of  Why.'     With  numerous  Illustration?. 
Crown  8v0.     35.  6d. 
An  extravaganza  for  Children,  written  with  great  charm  and  vivacity. 

RAILWAY  NATIONALIZATION.    By  CLEMENT  EDWARDS. 
Crown  8vo.     2s.  6d.  [Social  Questions  Series. 


Sport 


SPORTING  AND  ATHLETIC  RECORDS.     By  H.  MORGAN 

BROWNE.     Crown  8v0.     is.  paptr  ;  zs.  cloth. 

This  book  gives,  in  a  clear  and  complete  form,  accurate  records  of  the  best  perform 
ances  in  all  important  branches  of  Sport.  It  is  an  attempt,  never  yet  made,  to 
present  all-important  sporting  records  in  a  systematic  way. 

THE  GOLFING   PILGRIM.    By  HORACE  G    HUTCHINSON. 

Crown  8vo.     6s. 

This  book,  by  a  famous  golfer,  contains  the  following  sketches  lightly  and  humorously 
written  : — The  Prologue — The  Pilgrim  at  the  Shrine — Mecca  out  of  Season — The 
Pilgrim  at  Home — The  Pilgrim  Abroad — The  Life  of  the  Links — A  Tragedy  by 
the  Way— Scraps  from  the  Scrip— The  Golfer  in  Art— Early  Pilgrims  in  the  West 
— An  Interesting  Relic. 

Educational 

EVAGRIUS,     Edited  by  PROFESSOR  LEON  PARMENTIER  of 

Liege  and  M.  BIDEZ  of  Gand.     Demy  &vo.     'js.  6d. 

[Byzantine  Texts. 

THE  ODES  AND  EPODES  OF  HORACE.  Translated  by 
A.  D.  GODLEY,  M.A.,  Fellow  of  Magdalen  College,  Oxford. 
Crown  8ve.  buckram,  zs. 

ORNAMENTAL   DESIGN   FOR  WOVEN   FABRICS.     By 

C.  STEPHENSON,  of  The  Technical  College,  Bradford,  and 
F.  SUDDARDS,  of  The  Yorkshire  College,  Leeds.  With  65  full-page 
plates,  and  numerous  designs  and  diagrams  in  the  text.  Demy  8vo. 
TS.  6d. 

The  aim  of  this  book  is  to  supply,  in  a  systematic  and  practical  form,  information  on 
the  subject  of  Decorative  Design  as  applied  to  Woven  Fabrics,  and  is  primarily 
intended  to  meet  the  requirements  of  students  in  Textile  and  Art  Schools,  or  of 
designers  actively  engaged  in  the  weaving  industry.  Its  wealth  of  illustration  is 
a  marked  feature  of  the  book. 

ESSENTIALS     OF     COMMERCIAL     EDUCATION.      By 

E.  E.  WHITFIELD,  M.A.     Crown  8vo.     is.  6d. 

A  guide  to  Commercial  Education  and  Examinations. 


8          MESSRS.  METHUEN'S  ANNOUNCEMENTS 

PASSAGES  FOR  UNSEEN  TRANSLATION.  By  E.  C. 
MARCHANT,  M.A.,  Fellow  of  Peterhouse,  Cambridge;  and  A.  M. 
COOK,  M.A.,  late  Scholar  of  Wadham  College,  Oxford:  Assistant 
Masters  at  St.  Paul's  School.  Crown  8vo.  35.  6d. 

This  book  contains  Two  Hundred  Latin  and  Two  Hundred  Greek  Passages,  and 
has  been  very  carefully  compiled  to  meet  the  wants  of  V.  and  VI.  Form  Boys  at 
Public  Schools.  It  is  also  well  adapted  for  the  use  of  Honour  men  at  the 
Universities. 

EXERCISES    IN    LATIN   ACCIDENCE.     By  S.  E.  WIN- 
BOLT,  Assistant  Master  in  Christ's  Hospital.     Crown  $vo.     is.  6d. 
An  elementary  book  adapted  for  Lower  Forms  to  accompany  the  shorter  Latin  primer 

NOTES  ON  GREEK  AND  LATIN  SYNTAX.  By  G. 
BUCKLAND  GREEN,  M.A.,  Assistant  Master  at  the  Edinburgh 
Academy,  late  Fellow  of  St.  John's  College,  Oxon.  Cr.  8vo.  35.  6</. 

"Notes  and  explanations  on  the  chief  difficulties  of  Greek  and  Latin  Syntax,  with 
numerous  passages  for  exercise. 

A  DIGEST  OF  DEDUCTIVE  LOGIC.  By  JOHNSON 
BARKER,  B.A.  Crown  8vo.  2s.  6d. 

A  short  introduction  to  logic  for  students  preparing  for  examinations. 

TEST  CARDS   IN   EUCLID  AND  ALGEBRA.       By  D.   S. 
CALDERWOOD,  Headmaster  of  the  Normal  School,  Edinburgh.     In 
a  Packet  of  40,  with  Answers,     is. 
A  set  of  cards  for  advanced  pupils  in  elementary  schools. 

HOW  TO  MAKE  A  DRESS.  By  J.  A.  E.  WOOD.  Illustrated. 
Crown  8vo.  is,  6d. 

A  text-book  for  students  preparing  for  the  City  and  Guilds  examination,  based  on 
the  syllabus.  The  diagrams  are  numerous. 


Fiction 

LOCHINVAR.    By  S.  R.  CROCKETT,  Author  of  'The  Raiders/ 
etc.     Illustrated  by  FRANK  RICHARDS.     Crown  8vo.     6s. 

BYEWAYS.     By  ROP,ERT  HICHENS.     Author  of  *  Flames,'  etc. 
Crown  8vo.     6s. 

THE  MUTABLE  MANY.     By  ROBERT  BARR,  Author  of  <  In 
the  Midst  of  Alarms,'  '  A  Woman  Intervenes,'  etc.     Crown  &vo.     6s. 

THE  LADY'S  WALK.     By  Mrs.  OLIPHANT.     Crown  %i>o.     6s. 

A  new  book  by  this  lamented  author,  somewhat  in  the  style  of  her  '  Beleagured  City.' 


MESSRS.  METHUEN'S  ANNOUNCEMENTS         9 

TRAITS  AND  CONFIDENCES.     By  The  Hon.  EMILY  LAW 
LESS,  Author  of  '  Hurrish,'  *  Maelcho,'  etc.     Crown  8vo.     6s. 

BLADYS.      By  S.   BARING    GOULD,  Author  of  'The   Broom 
Squire,'  etc.     Illustrated  by  F.   H.   TOWNSEND.     Crown  8vo.     6s. 
A  Romance  of  the  last  century. 

THE  POMP  OF  THE  LAVILETTES.    By  GILBERT  PARKER, 
Author  of  '  The  Seats  of  the  Mighty,'  etc.     Crown  8vo.     %s.  6d. 

A  DAUGHTER  OF  STRIFE.    By  JANE  HELEN  FINDLATER> 

Author  of  *  The  Green  Graves  of  Balgowrie.*     Crown  8vo.     6s. 
A  story  of  1710. 

OVER  THE  HILLS.    By  MARY  FINDLATER.    Crown  %vo.    6s. 

A  novel  by  a  sister  of  J.  H.  Findlater,  the  author  of  '  The  Green  Graves  of  Balgowrie.' 

A  CREEL  OF  IRISH  STORIES.     By  JANE  BARLOW,  Author 
of  '  Irish  Idylls. '     Crown  8vo.     6s. 

THE    CLASH    OF    ARMS.      By  J.   BLOUNDELLE  BURTON, 
Author  of  '  In  the  Day  of  Adversity. '     Crown  8vo.     6s. 

A  PASSIONATE  PILGRIM.     By  PERCY  WHITE,  Author  of 
*  Mr.  Bailey- Martin.'     Crown  8v0.     6s. 

SECRETARY    TO    BAYNE,    M.P.      By    W.    PETT    RIDGE, 

Crown  8vo.    6s. 

THE  BUILDERS.     By  J.  S.  FLETCHER,  Author  of  'When 
Charles  I.  was  King.'     Crown  &vo.     6s. 

JOSIAH'S  WIFE.    By  NORMA  LORIMER.     Crown  Svo.    6s. 

BY  STROKE  OF   SWORD.     By  ANDREW  BALFOUR.    Illus 
trated  by  W.  CUBITT  COOKE.     Crown  8vo.     6s. 
A  romance  of  the  time  of  Elizabeth 

THE    SINGER    OF    MARLY.     By  I.  HOOPER.      Illustrated 
by  W.  CUBITT  COOKE.     Crown  8vo.     6s. 

A  romance  of  adventure. 

KIRKHAM'S    FIND.      By   MARY  GAUNT,  Author    of   'The 
Moving  Finger. '     Crown  &vo.     6s. 

THE  FALL    OF  THE    SPARROW.      By  M.    C.    BALFOUR. 

Crown  8vo.     6s. 

SCOTTISH  BORDER  LIFE.     By  JAMES  C.  DIBDIN.    Crown 

8v0.     3.?.  6tt. 

A  2 


A  LIST  OF 

MESSRS.      METHUEN'S 

PUBLICATIONS 


Poetry 

EUDYARD    KIPLING'S    NEW    POEMS 

Rudyard    Kipling.      THE    SEVEN    SEAS.      By    RUDYARD 

KIPLING.      Third  Edition.     Crown  Svo.     Buckram,  gilt  top.     6s. 

'  The  new  poems  of  Mr.  Rudyard  Kipling  have  all  the  spirit  and  swing  of  their  pre 
decessors.  Patriotism  is  the  solid  concrete  foundation  on  which  Mr.  Kipling  has 
built  the  whole  of  his  work.' — Times. 

1  Full  of  passionate  patriotism  and  the  Imperial  spirit.' — Yorkshire  Post- 

'  The  Empire  has  found  a  singer  ;  it  is  no  depreciation  of  the  songs  to  say  that  states 
men  may  have,  one  way  or  other,  to  take  account  of  them.' — Manchester 
Guardian. 

'  Animated  through  and  through  with  indubitable  genius.' — Daily  Telegraph. 

'Packed  with  inspiration,  with  humour,  with  pathos.' — Daily  Chronicle. 

'  All  the  pride  of  empire,  all  the  intoxication  of  power,  all  the  ardour,  the  energy, 
the  masterful  strength  and  the  wonderful  endurance  and  death-scorning  pluck 
which  are  the  very  bone  and  fibre  and  marrow  of  the  British  character  are  hera.' 
—Daily  Mail. 

Rudyard  Kipling.  BARRACK-ROOM  BALLADS;  And 
Other  Verses.  By  RUDYARD  KIPLING.  Twelfth  Edition.  Crown 
8vo.  6s. 

1  Mr.  Kipling's  verse  is  strong,  vivid,  full  of  character.  .  .  .  Unmistakable  genius 
rings  in  every  line." — Times. 

The  ballads  teem  with  imagination,  they  palpitate  with  emotion.  We  read  them 
with  laughter  and  tears ;  the  metres  throb  in  our  pulses,  the  cunningly  ordered 
words  tingle  with  life  ;  and  if  this  be  not  poetry,  what  is?' — Pall  Mall  Gazette. 

'Q."     POEMS  AND  BALLADS.     By  "Q.,"  Author  of  '  Green 

Bays,'  etc.     Crown  8vo.     Buckram.     35.  6d. 

'  This  work  has  just  the  faint,  ineffable  touch  and  glow  that  make  poetry  '  Q.'  has 
the  true  romantic  spirit.' — Speaker. 

"  Q."    GREEN  BAYS  :  Verses  and  Parodies.     By  "  Q.,"  Author 

of  'Dead  Man's  Rock,'  etc.     Second  Edition.     Crown  &vo.     35.  6<f. 
'The  verses  display  a  rare  and  versatile  gift  of  parody,  great  command  of  metre,  and 
a  very  pretty  turn  of  humour. ' —  Times. 

E.  Mackay.  A  SONG  OF  THE  SEA.  By  ERIC  MACKAY, 
Author  of  'The  Love  Letters  of  a  Violinist.'  Second  Edition. 
Fcap.  8vo.  5J- 

'  Everywhere  Mr.  Mackay  displays  himself  the  master  of  a  style  rrarked  by  all  the 
characteristics  of  the  best  rhetoric.  He  has  a  keen  sense  of  rhythm  and  of  general 
balance;  his  verse  is  excellently  sonorous.'— Globe, 


MESSRS   METHUEN'S  LIST  n 

Ibsen.  BRAND.  A  Drama  by  HENRIK  IBSEN.  Translated  by 
WILLIAM  WILSON.  Second  Edition.  Crown  Svo.  $s.  6d. 

'The  greatest  world-poem  of  the  nineteenth  century  next  to  "Faust."  It  is  in 
the  same  set  with  "Agamemnon,"  with  "Lear,"  with  the  literature  that  we  now 
instinctively  regard  as  high  and  holy.' — Daily  Chronicle. 

"A.G."  VERSES  TO  ORDER.  By  "A.  G."  Cr.  Bvo.  2s.dd. 
net. 

A  small  volume  of  verse  by  a  writer  whose  initials  are  well  known  to  Oxford  men. 
'  A  capital  specimen  of  light  academic  poetry.     These  verses  are  very  bright  and 
engaging,  easy  and  sufficiently  witty.  — St.  James's  Gazette. 

Belles  Lettres,  Anthologies,  etc. 

R.L.Stevenson.  VAI  LI  MA  LETTERS.  By  ROBERT  Louis 
STEVENSON.  With  an  Etched  Portrait  by  WILLIAM  STRANG,  and 
other  Illustrations.  Second  Edition.  Crown  8vo.  Buckram.  *js.  6d. 

'  Few  publications  have  in  our  time  been  more  eagerly  awaited  than  these  "  Vailima 
Letters,"  giving  the  first  fruits  of  the  correspondence  of  Robert  Louis  Stevenson. 
But,  high  as  the  tide  of  expectation  has  run,  no  reader  can  possibly  be  disappointed 
in  the  result." — St.  James's  Gazette. 

Henley  and  Whibley.      A  BOOK  OF  ENGLISH  PROSE. 

Collected  by  W.  E.  HENLEY  and  CHARLES  WHIBLEY.  Crownlvo.  6s. 

'A  unique  volume  of  extracts — an  art  gallery  of  early  prose.' — Birmingham  Post. 
'  An  admirable  companion  to  Mr.  Henley's  "  Lyra  Hcroica."' — Saturday  Review. 
1  Quite  delightful.    A  greater  treat  for  those  not  well  acquainted  with  pre-Restoration 
prose  could  not  be  imagined.' — Athenaum. 

H.  C.  Beeching.  LYRA  SACRA  :  An  Anthology  of  Sacred  Verse. 
Edited  by  IL  C.  BEECHING,  M.A.  Crown  8vo.  Buckram.  6s. 

'  A  charming  selection,  which  maintains  a  lofty  standard  of  excellence.' — Times. 

"Q."    THE  GOLDEN  POMP  :  A  Procession  of  English  Lyrics 
from  Surrey  to  Shirley,  arranged  by  A.  T.  QuiLLER  COUCH.    Crown 
S;>o.     Buckram.     6s. 
'  A  delightful  volume  :  a  really  golden  ' '  Pomp. " ' — Spectator. 

W.  B.  Yeats.  AN  ANTHOLOGY  OF  IRISH  VERSE. 
Edited  by  W.  B.  YEATS.  Crown  8vo.  $s.  6d. 

'  An  attractive  and  catholic  selection.' — Times. 

G.  W.  Steevens.     MONOLOGUES   OF   THE   DEAD.     By 

G.  W.  STEEVENS.    Foolscap  Svo.    3*.  6d. 

A  series  of  Soliloquies  in  which  famous  men  of  antiquity— Julius  Caesar,  Nero. 
Alcibiades,  etc.,  attempt  to  express  themselves  in  the  modes  of  thought  ana 
language  of  to-day. 

The  effect  is  sometimes  splendid,  sometimes  bizarre,  bul  always  amazingly  clever 
—Pall  Mall  Gazette. 


12  MESSRS.  METHUEN'S  LIST 

Victor   Hugo.      THE     LETTERS     OF     VICTOR     HUGO. 

Translated  from  the  French  by  F\  CLARKE,  M.A.  In  Two  Volumes. 
Demy^vo.  10;.  6d.  each.  Vol.  I.  1815-35. 

This  is  the  first  volume  of  one  of  the  most  interesting  and  important  collection  of 
letters  ever  published  in  France.  The  correspondence  dates  from  Victor  Hugo's 
boyhood  to  his  death,  and  none  of  the  letters  have  been  published  before.  The 
arrangement  is  chiefly  chronological,  but  where  there  is  an  interesting  set  of 
letters  to  one  person  these  are  arranged  together.  The  first  volume  contains, 
among  others,  (i)  Letters  to  his  father;  (2)  to  his  young  wife  ;  (2)  to  his  confessor, 
Lamennais ;  a  very  important  set  of  about  fifty  letters  to  Sainte-Beauve ;  (5) 
letters  about  his  early  books  and  plays. 

'  A  charming  and  vivid  picture  of  a  man  whose  egotism  never  marred  his  natural 
kindness,  and  whose  vanity  did  not  impair  his  greatness.' — Standard. 

C.  H.  Pearson.  ESSAYS  AND  CRITICAL  REVIEWS.  By 
C.  H.  PEARSON,  M.A.,  Author  of  'National  Life  and  Character.' 
Edited,  with  a  Biographical  Sketch,  by  H.  A.  STRONG,  M.A., 
LL.D.  With  a  Portrait.  Demy  Svo.  los.  6d. 

1  Remarkable  for  careful  handling,  breadth  of  view,  and  knowledge.'— Scotsman. 

'Charming  essays.' — Spectator. 

W.  M.  Dixon.  A  PRIMER  OF  TENNYSON.  By  W.  M. 
DIXON,  M.A.,  Professor  of  English  Literature  at  Mason  College. 
Crown  8vo.  2s.  6d. 

'  Much  sound  and  well-expressed  criticism  and  acute  literary  judgments.  The  biblio 
graphy  is  a  boon.' — Speaker. 

W.  A.  Craigie.    A  PRIMER  OF  BURNS.    By  W.  A.  CRAIGIE. 

Crown  &vo.     2s.  6d. 
This  book  is  planned  on  a  method  similar  to  the  '  Primer  of  Tennyson.'    It  has  also 

a  glossary. 

'A  valuable  addition  to  the  literature  of  the  poet." — Times. 
1  An  excellent  short  account.' — Pall  Mall  Gazette. 
'An  admirable  introduction.' — Globe. 

Sterne.  THE  LIFE  AND  OPINIONS  OF  TRISTRAM 
SHANDY.  By  LAWRENCE  STERNE.  With  an  Introduction  by 
CHARLES  WHIBLEY,  and  a  Portrait.  2  vols.  *js. 

'Very  dainty  volumes  are  these;  the  paper,  type,  and  light-green  binding  are  all 
very  agreeable  to  the  eye.  Simplex  tnunditiis  is  the  phrase  that  might  be  applied 
to  them.'— Globe. 

Congreve.    THE  COMEDIES  OF  WILLIAM  CONGREVE. 

With  an  Introduction  by  G.  S.  STREET,  and  a  Portrait.     2  vols.    *js. 
'  The  volumes  are  strongly  bound  in  green  buckram,  are  of  a  convenient  size,  and 
pleasant  to  look  upon,  so  that  whether  on  the  shelf,  or  on  the  table,  or  in  the  hand 
the  possessor  is  thoroughly  content  with  them.' — Guardian. 

Morier.  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  HAJJI  BABA  OF 
ISPAHAN.  By  JAMES  MORIER.  With  an  Introduction  by  E.  G. 
BROWNE,  M.A.,  and  a  Portrait.  2  vols.  Js. 

Walton.  THE  LIVES  OF  DONNE,  WOTTON,  HOOKER, 
HERBERT,  AND  SANDERSON.  By  IZAAK  WALTON.  With 
an  Introduction  by  VERNON  BLACKBURN,  and  a  Portrait.  3*.  6d. 


MESSRS.  METHUEN'S  LIST  13 

Johnson.  THE  LIVES  OF  THE  ENGLISH  POETS.  By 
SAMUEL  JOHNSON,  LL.D.  With  an  Introduction  by  J.  H.  MILLAR, 
and  a  Portrait.  3  vols.  icw.  6d. 

Burns.     THE  POEMS  OF   ROBERT  BURNS.     Edited  by 

ANDREW  LANG  and  W.  A.  CRAIGIE.     With  Portrait.     Demy  Svo, 

gilt  top.     6s. 
This  edition  contains  a  carefully  collated  Text,  numerous  Notes,  critical  and  textual, 

a  critical  and  biographical  Introduction,  and  a  Glossary. 
'Among  the  editions  in  one  volume,  Mr.  Andrew  Lang's  will  take  the  place  of 

authority.' —  Times. 

F.  Langbridge.     BALLADS    OF  THE   BRAVE:    Poems  of 

Chivalry,  Enterprise,  Courage,  and  Constancy.  Edited,  with  Notes, 
by  Rev.  F.  LANGBRIDGE.  Crown  8vo.  Buckram.  3^.  6V/.  School 
Edition.  2s.  6d. 

'A  very  happy  conception  happily  carried  out.  These  "Ballads  of  the  Brave"  are 
intended  to  suit  the  real  tastes  of  boys,  and  will  suit  the  taste  of  the  great  majority.' 
—Spectator.  '  The  book  is  full  of  splendid  things.'—  World. 


Illustrated   Books 

Jane  Barlow.    THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  FROGS  AND  MICE, 

translated  by  JANE  BARLOW,  Author  of  *  Irish  Idylls,'  and  pictured 
by  F.  D.  BEDFORD.     Small  4/0.     6s.  net. 

S.  Baring  Gould.     A  BOOK  OF  FAIRY  TALES  retold  by  S. 

BARING  GOULD.     With  numerous  illustrations  and  initial  letters  by 
ARTHUR  J.  GASKIN.     Second  Edition.    Crown  2>vo.     Buckram.     6s. 

'Mr.  Baring  Gould  is  deserving  of  gratitude,  in  re-writing  in  honest,  simple  style  the 
old  stories  that  delighted  the  childhood  of  "  our  fathers  and  grandfathers."  As  to 
the  form  of  the  book,  and  the  printing,  which  is  by  Messrs.  Constable,  it  were 
difficult  to  commend  overmuch.  — Saturday  Review. 

S.  Baring  Gould.  OLD  ENGLISH  FAIRY  TALES.  Col 
lected  and  edited  by  S.  BARING  GOULD.  With  Numerous  Illustra 
tions  by  F.  D.  BEDFORD.  Second  Edition.  Crown  8vo.  Buckram.  6s. 
'A  charming  volume,  which  children  will  be  sure  to  appreciate.  The  stories  have 
been  selected  with  great  ingenuity  from  various  old  ballads  and  folk-tales,  and, 
having  been  somewhat  altered  and  readjusted,  now  stand  forth,  clothed  in  Mr. 
Baring  Gould's  delightful  English,  to  enchant  youthful  readers.' — Guardian. 

S.  Baring  Gould.     A   BOOK   OF   NURSERY   SONGS   AND 

RHYMES.  Edited  by  S.  BARING  GOULD,  and  Illustrated  by  the 
Birmingham  Art  School.  Buckram,  gilt  top.  Crown  &vo.  6s. 
'  The  volume  is  very  complete  in  its  way,  as  it  contains  nursery  songs  to  the  number 
°f  77»  game-rhymes,  and  jingles.  To  the  student  we  commend  the  sensible  intro 
duction,  and  the  explanatory  notes.  The  volume  is  superbly  printed  on  soft, 
thick  paper,  which  it  is  a  pleasure  to  touch  ;  and  the  borders  and  pictures  are 
among  the  very  best  specimens  we  have  seen  of  the  Gaskin  school.'— Birming 
ham  Gazette. 


14  MESSRS.  METHUEN'S  LIST 

H.  C.  Beeching.  A  BOOK  OF  CHRISTMAS  VERSE.  Edited 
by  H.  C.  BEECHING,  M.A.,  and  Illustrated  by  WALTER  CRANE. 
Crown  8vo,  gilt  top.  $s. 

A  collection  of  the  best  verse  inspired  by  the  birth  of  Christ  from  the  Middle  Ages 
to  the  present  day.     A  distinction  of  the  book  is  the  large  number  of  poems  it 
contains  by  modern  authors,  a  few  of  which  are  here  printed  for  the  first  time. 
J  An  anthology  which,  from  its  unity  of  aim  and  high  poetic  excellence,  has  a  better 
right  to  exist  than  most  of  its  fellows.' — Guardian. 


History 


Gibbon.  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF  THE  ROMAN 
EMPIRE.  By  EDWARD  GIBBON.  A  New  Edition,  Edited  with 
Notes,  Appendices,  and  Maps,  by  J.  B.  BURY,  M.A.,  Fellow  of 
Trinity  College,  Dublin.  In  Seven  Volumes.  Demy  Svo.  Gilt  top. 
Ss.  6d.  each.  Also  crown  8vo.  6s.  each.  Vols.  I. ,  //. ,  and  III. 

'The  time  has  certainly  arrived  for  a  new  edition  of  Gibbon's  great  work.  .  .  .  Pro 
fessor  Bury  is  the  right  man  to  undertake  this  task.  His  learning  is  amazing, 
both  in  extent  and  accuracy.  The  book  is  issued  in  a  handy  form,  and  at  a 
moderate  price,  and  it  is  admirably  printed.' — Times. 

'  The  edition  is  edited  as  a  classic  should  be  edited,  removing  nothing,  yet  indicating 
the  value  of  the  text,  and  bringing  it  up  to  date.  It  promises  to  be  of  the  utmost 
value,  and  will  be  a  welcome  addition  to  many  libraries.'— Scotsman. 

'This  edition,  so  far  as  one  may  judge  from  the  first  instalment,  is  a  marvel  of 
erudition  and  critical  skill,  and  it  is  the  very  minimum  of  praise  to  predict  that  the 
seven  volumes  of  it  will  supersede  Dean  Milman's  as  the  standard  edition  of  our 
great  historical  classic.' — Glasgow  Herald. 

'  The  beau-ideal  Gibbon  has  arrived  at  last.'— Sketch. 

1  At  last  there  is  an  adequate  modern  edition  of  Gibbon.  .  .  .  The  best  edition  the 
nineteenth  century  could  produce.1 — Manchester  Guardian. 

Flinders Petrie.  A  HISTORY  OF  EGYPT, FROMTHE  EARLIEST 
TIMES  TO  THE  PRESENT  DAY.  Edited  by  W.  M.  FLINDERS 
PETRIE,  D.C.L.,  LL.D.,  Professor  of  Egyptology  at  University 
College.  Fully  Illustrated.  In  Six  Volumes.  Crown  8vo.  6s.  each. 

Vol.  I.  PREHISTORIC  TIMES  TO  XVI.   DYNASTY.      W.  M.   F. 
Petrie.      Third  Edition. 

Vol.  II.  THE  XVIlTH  AND  XVIIlTH   DYNASTIES.     W.  M.  F. 
Petrie.      Second  Edition. 

'  A  history  written  in  the  spirit  of  scientific  precision  so  worthily  represented  by  Dr. 
Petrie  and  his  school  cannot  but  promote  sound  and  accurate  study,  and 
supply  a  vacant  place  in  the  English  literature  of  Egyptology.' — Times. 

Flinders  Petrie.  EGYPTIAN  TALES.  Edited  by  W.  M. 
FLINDERS  PETRIE.  Illustrated  by  TRISTRAM  ELLIS.  In  Two 
Volumes.  Crown  8vo.  35.  6d.  each. 

4  A  valuable  addition  to  the  literature  of  comparative  folk-lore .    The  drawings  are 

really  illustrations  in  the  literal  sense  of  the  word.' — Globe. 
'  It  has  a  scientific  value  to  the  student  of  history  and  archaeology.'— Scotsman. 
'  Invaluable  as  a  picture  of  life  in  Palestine  and  Egypt.' — Daily  News. 


MESSRS.  METHUEN'S  LIST  15 

Flinders  Petrie.  EGYPTIAN  DECORATIVE  ART.  By 
W.  M.  FLINDERS  PETRIE,  D.C.L.  With  120  Illustrations.  Crown 
Svo.  3*.  6d. 

1  Professor  Flinders  Petrie  is  not  only  a  profound  Egyptologist,  but  an  accomplished 
student  of  comparative  archaeology.  In  these  lectures,  delivered  at  the  Royal 
Institution,  he  displays  both  qualifications  with  rare  skill  in  elucidating  the 
development  of  decorative  art  in  Egypt,  and  in  tracing  its  influenca  on  the 
art  of  other  countries.' — Times, 

S.  Baring  Gould.      THE    TRAGEDY   OF  THE   C^SARS, 

The  Emperors  of  the  Julian  and  Claudian  Lines.  With  numerous 
Illustrations  from  Busts,  Gems,  Cameos,  etc.  By  S.  BARING  GOULD, 
Author  of  '  Mehalah,' etc.  Fourth  Edition.  Royal  %vo.  \$s. 

'  A  most  splendid  and  fascinating  book  on  a  subject  of  undying  interest.  The  great 
feature  of  the  book  is  the  use  the  author  has  made  of  the  existing  portraits  of  the 
Caesars,  and  the  admirable  critical  subtlety  he  has  exhibited  in  dealing  with  this 
line  of  research.  It  is  brilliantly  written,  and  the  illustrations  are  supplied  on  3 
scale  of  profuse  magnificence.' — Daily  Chronicle. 

'  The  volumes  will  in  no  sense  disappoint  the  general  reader.  Indeed,  in  their  way, 
there  is  nothing  in  any  sense  so  good  in  English.  .  .  .  Mr.  Baring  Gould  has 
presented  his  narrative  in  such  a  way  as  not  to  make  one  dull  page.' — Athence-um. 

H.  de  B.  Gibbins.  INDUSTRY  IN  ENGLAND  :  HISTORI 
CAL  OUTLINES.  By  H.  DE  B.  GIBBINS,  M.A.,  D.Litt.  With 
5  Maps.  Second  Edition.  Demy  Svo.  los.  6d. 

This  book  is  written  with  the  view  of  affording  a  clear  view  of  the  main  facts  of 
English  Social  and  Industrial  History  placed  in  due  perspective.  Beginning 
with  prehistoric  times,  it  passes  in  review  the  growth  and  advance  of  industry 
up  to  the  nineteenth  century,  showing  its  gradual  development  and  progress. 
The  book  is  illustrated  by  Maps,  Diagrams,  and  Tables. 

A.  Clark.  THE  COLLEGES  OF  OXFORD  :  Their  History 
and  their  Traditions.  By  Members  of  the  University.  Edited  by  A. 
CLARK,  M.A.,  Fellow  and  Tutor  of  Lincoln  College.  8vo.  12s.  6d. 

1 A  work  which  will  certainly  be  appealed  to  for  many  years  as  the  standard  book  on 
the  Colleges  ofQxtor&.'—Atheneeunt. 

Perrens.  THE  HISTORY  OF  FLORENCE  FROM  1434 
TO  1492.  By  F.  T.  PERRENS.  Translated  by  HANNAH  LYNCH. 
Svo.  i2s.  6d. 

A  history  of  Florence  under  the  domination  of  Cosimo,  Piero,  and  Lorenzo  de 

Medicis. 
1  This  is  a  standard  book  by  an  honest  and  intelligent  historian,  who  has  deserved 

well  of  all  who  are  interested  in  Italian  history.  '—Manchester  Guardian. 

J.  Wells.    A  SHORT  HISTORY  OF  ROME.    By  J.  WELLS, 
M. A.,  Fellow  and  Tutor  of  Wadham  Coll.,  Oxford.      With  4  Maps. 
Crown  8vo.     %s.  6d. 
This  book  is  intended  for  the  Middle  and  Upper  Forms  of  Public  Schools  and  for 

Pass  Students  at  the  Universities.    It  contains  copious  Tables,  etc. 
'An  original  work  written  on  an  original  plan,  and  with  uncommon  freshness  and 
vigour. ' — Speaker. 


i6  MESSRS.  METHUEN'S  LIST 

E.  L.  S.  Horsburgh.      THE  CAMPAIGN  OF  WATERLOO. 

By  E.  L.  S.  HORSBURGH,  B.A.     With  Plans.     Crown  8vo.     5*. 

'A  brilliant  essay — simple,  sound,  and  thorough." — Daily  Chronicle. 
'  A  study,  the  most  concise,  the  most  lucid,  the  most  critical  that  has  been  produced. 
— Birmingham  Mercury, 

H. B.George.  BATTLES  OF  ENGLISH  HISTORY.  ByH.B. 
GEORGE,  M.A.,  Fellow  of  New  College,  Oxford.  With  numerous 
Plans.  Third  Edition.  Crown  8v0.  6s. 

1  Mr.  George  has  undertaken  a  very  useful  task — that  of  making  military  affairs  in- 
telligible  and  instructive  to  non-military  readers— and  has  executed  it  with  laud 
able  intelligence  and  industry,  and  with  a  large  measure  of  success.' — Times. 

0.  Browning.  A  SHORT  HISTORY  OF  MEDIAEVAL  ITALY, 
A.D.  1250-1530.  By  OSCAR  BROWNING,  Fellow  and  Tutor  of  King's 
College,  Cambridge.  Second  Edition.  In  Two  Volumes.  Crown 
Svo.  5.?.  each. 

VOL.  i.  1250-1409. — Guelphs  and  Ghibellines. 
VOL.  II.  1409-1530.— The  Age  of  the  Condottieri. 

'A  vivid  picture  of  mediaeval  Italy.' — Standard. 

'Mr.  Browning  is  to  be  congratulated  on  the  production  of  a  work  of  immense 
labour  and  learning.' — Westminster  Gazette. 

O'Grady.  THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND.  By  STANDISH 
O'GRADY,  Author  of  '  Finn  and  his  Companions.'  Cr.  Sv0.  2s.  6d. 

'  Most  delightful,  most  stimulating.  Its  racy  humour,  its  original  imaginings, 
make  it  one  of  the  freshest,  breeziest  volumes.' — Methodist  Times. 


Biography 


S.  Baring  Gould.  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  BONA 
PARTE.  By  S.  BARING  GOULD.  With  over  450  Illustrations  in 
the  Text  and  12  Photogravure  Plates.  Large  quarto.  Gilt  top.  36^. 

'  The  best  biography  of  Napoleon  in  our  tongue,  nor  have  the  French  as  good  a 
biographer  of  their  hero.  A  book  very  nearly  as  good  as  Southey's  "  Life  of 
Nelson."  ' — Manchester  Guardian. 

'The  main  feature  of  this  gorgeous  volume  is  its  great  wealth  of  beautiful  photo 
gravures  and  finely-executed  wood  engravings,  constituting  a  complete  pictorial 
chronicle  of  Napoleon  I.'s  personal  history  from  the  days  of  his  early  childhood 
at  Ajaccio  to  the  date  of  his  second  interment  under  the  dome  of  the  Invalides  ia 
Paris.'— Daily  Telegraph. 

'  The  most  elaborate  account  of  Napoleon  ever  produced  by  an  English  writer." — 
Daily  Chronicle. 

1  A  brilliant  and  attractive  volume.  Never  before  have  so  many  pictures  relating 
to  Napoleon  been  brought  within  the  limits  of  an  English  book." — Globe. 

'  Particular  notice  is  due  to  the  vast  collection  of  contemporary  illustrations.' — 
Guardian. 

'Nearly  all  the  illustrations  are  real  contributions  to  history.'  —  Westminster  Gazette. 

'The  illustrations  are  of  supreme  interest.'—  S  tandard. 


MESSRS.  METHUEN'S  LIST  17 

Morris  Fuller.  THE  LIFE  AND  WRITINGS  OF  JOHN 
DAYENANT,  D.D.  (1571-1641),  President  of  Queen's  College, 
Lady  Margaret  Professor  of  Divinity,  Bishop  of  Salisbury.  By 
MORRIS  FULLER,  B.D.  Demy  8ve.  IDS.  6d. 

'  A  valuable  contribution  to  ecclesiastical  history.' — Birmingham  Gazette, 

J.  M.  Rigg.  ST.  ANSELM  OF  CANTERBURY  :  A  CHAPTER 
IN  THE  HISTORY  OF  RELIGION.  By  J.  M.  RIGG.  DemyZ-vo.  >js.  6d. 

'  Mr.  Rigg  has  told  the  story  of  the  great  Primate's  life  with  scholarly  ability,  and 
has  thereby  contributed  an  interesting  chapter  to  the  history  of  the  Norman  period,' 
—Daily  Chronicle. 

F.  W.  Joyce.  THE  LIFE  OF  SIR  FREDERICK  GORE 
OUSELEY.  By  F.  W.  JOYCE,  M.A.  With  Portraits  and  Illustra 
tions.  Crown  &vo.  Js.  6d. 

'  This  book  has  been  undertaken  in  quite  the  right  spirit,  and  written  with  sympathy 
insight,  and  considerable  literary  skill.' — Times. 

W.  G.  Collingwood.  THE  LIFE  OF  JOHN  RUSKIN.  By 
W.  G.  COLLINGWOOD,  M. A.,  Editor  of  Mr.  Ruskin's  Poems.  With 
numerous  Portraits,  and  13  Drawings  by  Mr.  Ruskin.  Second 
Edition.  2  vols.  8vo.  32*. 

'  No  more  magnificent  volumes  have  been  published  for  a  long  time.'— Times. 
'  It  is  long  since  we  had  a  biography  with  such  delights  of  substance  and  of  form. 
Such  a  book  is  a  pleasure  for  the  day,  and  a  joy  for  ever.' — Daily  Chronicle. 

0.  Waldstein.  JOHN  RUSKIN  :  a  Study.  By  CHARLES 
WALDSTEIN,  M.A.,  Fellow  of  King's  College,  Cambridge.  With  a 
Photogravure  Portrait  after  Professor  HERKOMER.  Post  Svo.  5*. 

'A  thoughtful,  impartial,  well-written  criticism  of  Ruskin's  teaching,  intended  to 
separate  what  the  author  regards  as  valuable  and  permanent  from  what  is  transient 
and  erroneous  in  the  great  master's  writing. ' — Daily  Chronicle. 

W.  H.  Hutton.  THE  LIFE  OF  SIR  THOMAS  MORE.  By 
W.  H.  HUTTON,  M.A.,  Author  of  '  William  Laud.'  With  Portraits. 
Crown  8vo.  $s. 

'  The  book  lays  good  claim  to  high  rank  among  our  biographies.  It  is  excellently, 
even  lovingly,  written.  '—Scotsman.  '  An  excellent  monograph. '—  Times. 

Clark  Russell.  THE  LIFE  OF  ADMIRAL  LORD  COL 
LINGWOOD.  By  W.  CLARK  RUSSELL,  Author  of  « The  Wreck 
of  the  Grosvenor.'  With  Illustrations  by  F.  BRANGWYN.  Third 
Edition.  Crown  8v0.  6s. 

'  A  book  which  we  should  like  to  see  in  the  hands  of  every  boy  in  the  country.' — 
St.  James's  Gazette.  '  A  really  good  book.1— Saturday  Review. 

A3 


1 8  MESSRS.  METHUEN'S  LIST 

Southey.  ENGLISH  SEAMEN  (Howard,  Clifford,  Hawkins, 
Drake,  Cavendish).  By  ROBERT  SOUTHEY.  Edited,  with  an 
Introduction,  by  DAVID  HANNAY.  Second  Edition.  Crown  8vo.  6s. 

'Admirable  and  well-told  stories  of  our  naval  history.' — Artny  and  Navy  Gazette. 

'A  brave,  inspiriting  book.1— Black  and  White. 


Travel,  Adventure  and  Topography 

B.  S.  S.  Baden-Powell.  THE  DOWNFALL  OF  PREMPEH. 
A  Diary  of  Life  with  the  Native  Levy  in  Ashanti,  1895.  By  Colonel 
BADEN-POWELL.  With  21  Illustrations  and  a  Map.  Demy  8w. 
IQS.  6d. 

'  A  compact,  faithful,  most  readable  record  of  the  campa'gn.' — Daily  News. 
1 A  bluff  and  vigorous  narrative.'— Glasgow  Herald. 

R.  S.  S.  Baden-Powell.  THE  MATEBELE  CAMPAIGN  1896. 
By  Colonel  R.  S.  S.  BADEN-POWELL.  With  nearly  100  Illustrations. 
Second  Edition.  DemyZvo.  155. 

'Written  in  an  unaffectedly  light  and  humorous  style.' — The  World. 

'A  very  racy  and  eminently  readable  book.' — St.  James's  Gazette. 

'  As  a  straightforward  account  of  a  great  deal  of  plucky  work  unpretentiously  done, 
this  book  is  well  worth  reading.  The  simplicity  of  the  narrative  is  all  in  its 
favour,  and  accords  in  a  peculiarly  English  fashion  with  the  nature  of  the  subject.' 
Times. 

Captain  Hinde.  THE  FALL  OF  THE  CONGO  ARABS. 
By  SIDNEY  L.  HINDE.  With  Portraits  and  Plans.  Demy  8vo. 
12s.  6d. 

'  The  book  is  full  of  good  things,  and  of  sustained  interest.' — St.  James's  Gazette. 
A  graphic  sketch  of  one  of  the  most  exciting  and  important  episodes  in  the  struggle 
for  supremacy  in  Central  Africa  between  the  Arabs  and  their  Europeon  rival  . 
Apart  from  the  story  of  the  campaign,  Captain  Hinde's  book  is  mainly  remark 
able  for  the  fulness  with  which  he  discusses  the  question  of  cannibalism.  It  is, 
indeed,  the  only  connected  narrative— in  English,  at  any  rate — which  has  been 
published  of  this  particular  episode  in  African  history.' — Times. 

'  Captain  Hinde's  book  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  and  valuable  contributions  yet 
made  to  the  literature  of  modern  Africa.' — Daily  News. 

W.  Crooke.  THE  NORTH-WESTERN  PROVINCES  OF 
INDIA:  THEIR  ETHNOLOGY  AND  ADMINISTRATION.  By  W. 
CROOKE.  With  Maps  and  Illustrations.  Demy  Svo.  los.  6d. 

'  A  carefully  and  well-written  account  of  one  of  the  most  important  provinces  of  the 
Empire.  In  seven  chapters  Mr.  Crooke  deals  successively  with  the  land  in  its 
physical  aspect,  the  province  under  Hindoo  and  Mussulman  rule,  the  province 
under  British  rule,  the  ethnology  and  sociology  of  the  province,  the  religious  and 
social  life  of  the  people,  the  land  and  its  settlement,  and  the  native  peasant  in  his 
relation  to  the  land.  The  illustrations  are  good  and  well  selected,  and  the  map  is 
excellent.  '—Manchester  Guardian. 


MESSRS.  METHUEN'S  LIST  19 

W.  B.  Worsfold.  SOUTH  AFRICA  :  Its  History  and  its  Future. 
By  W.  BASIL  WORSFOLD,  M.A.  With  a  Map.  Second  Edition. 
Crown  Svo.  6s. 

'An  intensely  interesting  book.' — Daily  Chronicle. 

1 A  monumental  work  compressed  into  a  very  moderate  compass.'— World. 


General  Literature 

S.  Baring  Gould.     OLD  COUNTRY  LIFE.     By  S.  BARING 

GOULD,  Author  of  '  Mehalah,'  etc.  With  Sixty-seven  Illustrations 
by  W.  PARKINSON,  F.  D.  BEDFORD,  and  F.  MASEY.  Large 
Crown  8vo.  IQS.  6d.  Fifth  and  Cheaper  Edition.  6s. 

'  "Old  Country  Life,"  as  healthy  wholesome  reading,  full  of  breezy  life  and  move 
ment,  full  of  quaint  stories  vigorously  told,  will  not  be  excelled  by  any  book  to  be 
published  throughout  the  year.  Sound,  hearty,  and  English  to  the  core.1 — World. 

S.  Baring  Gould.  HISTORIC  ODDITIES  AND  STRANGE 
EVENTS.  By  S.  BARING  GOULD.  Third  Edition.  Crown  Svo.  6s. 

'  A  collection  of  exciting  and  entertaining  chapters.  The  whole  volume  is  delightful 
reading.'—  Times. 

S.  Baring  Gould.  FREAKS  OF  FANATICISM.  By  S.  BARING 
GOULD.  Third  Edition.  Crown  8vo.  6s. 

'  Mr.  Baring  Gould  has  a  keen  eye  for  colour  and  effect,  and  the  subjects  he  has 
chosen  give  ample  scope  to  his  descriptive  and  analytic  faculties.  A  perfectly 
fascinating  book.' — Scottish  Leader. 

S.  Baring  Gould.  A  GARLAND  OF  COUNTRY  SONG : 
English  Folk  Songs  with  their  Traditional  Melodies.  Collected  and 
arranged  by  S.  BARING  GOULD  and  H.  FLEETWOOD  SHEPPARD. 
Demy  4/0.  6s. 

S.  Baring  Gould.  SONGS  OF  THE  WEST:  Traditional 
Ballads  and  Songs  of  the  West  of  England,  with  their  Traditional 
Melodies.  Collected  by  S.  BARING  GOULD,  M.A.,  and  H.  FLEET- 
WOOD  SHEPPARD,  M.A.  Arranged  for  Voice  and  Piano.  In  4  Parts 
(containing  25  Songs  each),  Parts  /.,  77.,  777.,  3*.  each.  Part 
lV.t  5.r.  In  one  VoL>  French  morocco,  \$s. 
'  A  rich  collection  of  humour,  pathos,  grace,  and  poetic  fancy.1 — Saturday  Review. 


20  MESSRS.  METHUEN'S  LIST 

S.  Baring  Gould.  YORKSHIRE  ODDITIES  AND  STRANGE 
EVENTS.  Fourth  Edition.  Crown  Svo.  6s. 

S.  Baring  Gould.  STRANGE  SURVIVALS  AND  SUPER 
STITIONS.  With  Illustrations.  By  S.  BARING  GOULD.  Crown 
Sv0.  Second  Edition.  6s. 

'  We  have  read  Mr.  Baring  Gould's  book  from  beginning  to  end.  It  is  full  of  quaint 
and  various  information,  and  there  is  not  a  dull  page  in  it. ' — Notes  and  Queries. 

S.  Baring  Gould.  THE  DESERTS  OF  SOUTHERN 
FRANCE.  By  S.  BARING. GOULD.  With  numerous  Illustrations 
by  F.  D.  BEDFORD,  S.  HUTTON,  etc.  2  voh.  Demy  8vo.  32*. 

'His  two  richly-illustrated  volumes  are  full  of  matter  of  interest  to  the  geologist, 
the  archaeologist,  and  the  student  of  history  and  manners." — Scotsman. 

G.  W.  Steevens.  NAVAL  POLICY :  WITH  A  DESCRIP 
TION  OF  ENGLISH  AND  FOREIGN  NAVIES.  By  G.  W.  STEEVENS. 
Demy  %vo.  6s. 

This  book  is  a  description  of  the  British  and  other  more  important  navies  of  the  world, 
with  a  sketch  of  the  lines  on  which  our  naval  policy  might  possibly  be  developed. 
It  describes  our  recent  naval  policy,  and  shows  what  our  naval  force  really  is.  A 
detailed  but  non-technical  account  is  given  of  the  instruments  of  modern  warfare — 
guns,  armour,  engines,  and  the  like — with  a  view  to  determine  how  far  we  are 
abreast  of  modern  invention  and  modern  requirements.  An  ideal  policy  is  then 
sketched  for  the  building  and  manning  of  our  fleet ;  and  the  last  chapter  is 
devoted  to  docks,  coaling-stations,  and  especially  colonial  defence. 

'An  extremely  able  and  interesting  work.'— Daily  Chronicle. 

W.  E.  Gladstone.  THE  SPEECHES  AND  PUBLIC  AD 
DRESSES  OF  THE  RT.  HON.  W.  E.  GLADSTONE,  M.P. 
Edited  by  A.  W.  HUTTON,  M.A.,  and  H.  J.  COHEN,  M.A.  With 
Portraits.  Svo.  Vols.  IX.  and  X.  12s.  6d.  each. 

J.  Wells.  OXFORD  AND  OXFORD  LIFE.  By  Members  of 
the  University.  Edited  by  J.  WELLS,  M.A.,  Fellow  and  Tutor  of 
Wadham  College.  Crown  8v0.  %s.  6d. 

'  We  congratulate  Mr.  Wells  on  the  production  of  a  readable  and  intelligent  account 
of  Oxford  as  it  is  at  the  present  time,  written  by  persons  who  are  possessed  of  a 
close  acquaintance  with  the  system  and  life  of  the  University.' — Athenceitm. 

L.  Whibley.  GREEK  OLIGARCHIES  :  THEIR  ORGANISA 
TION  AND  CHARACTER.  By  L.  WHIBLEY,  M.A.,  Fellow 
of  Pembroke  College,  Cambridge.  Crown  8v0.  6s. 

'  An  exceedingly  useful  handbook  :  a  careful  and  well-arranged  study  of  an  obscure 

subject. ' — Times. 
'  Mr.  Whibley  is  never  tedious  or  pedantic.' — Pall  Mall  Gazette. 


MESSRS.  METHUEN'S  LIST  21 

L.  L.  Price.  ECONOMIC  SCIENCE  AND  PRACTICE. 
By  L.  L.  PRICE,  M.A.,  Fellow  of  Oriel  College,  Oxford.  Crown 
8vo.  6s. 

1  The  book  is  well  written,  giving  evidence  of  considerable  literary  ability,  and  clear 
mental  grasp  of  the  subject  under  consideration.'— Western  Morning  News. 

C.  F.  Andrews.  CHRISTIANITY  AND  THE  LABOUR 
QUESTION.  By  C.  F.  ANDREWS,  B.A.  Crown  8vo.  2s.  6d. 

1 A  bold  and  scholarly  survey.' — Speaker. 

J.  S.  Shedlock.  THE  PIANOFORTE  SONATA:  Its  Origin 
and  Development.  By  J.  S.  SHEDLOCK.  Crown  8vo.  5*. 

'  This  work  should  be  in  the  possession  of  every  musician  •ind  amateur,  for  it  not 
only  embodies  a  concise  and  lucid  history  ot  the  origin  of  one  of  the  most  im 
portant  forms  of  musical  composition,  but,  by  reason  of  the  painstaking  research 
and  accuracy  of  the  author's  statements,  it  is  a  very  valuable  work  for  reference.' 
— A  thentzum. 

E.M.  Bowden.  THE  EXAMPLE  OF  BUDDHA:  Being  Quota 
tions  from  Buddhist  Literature  for  each  Day  in  the  Year.  Compiled 
by  E.  M.  BOWDEN.  With  Preface  by  Sir  EDWIN  ARNOLD.  Third 
Edition.  i6mo.  2s.  6d. 


Science 


Freudenreich.  DAIRY  BACTERIOLOGY.  A  Short  Manual 
for  the  Use  of  Students.  By  Dr.  ED.  VON  FREUDENREICH. 
Translated  from  the  German  by  J.  R.  AINSWORTH  DAVIS,  B.A., 
F.C.P.  Crown  8vo.  2s.6d. 

Chalmers    Mitchell.      OUTLINES   OF  BIOLOGY.      By   P. 

CHALMERS  MITCHELL,    M.A.,  F.Z.S.     Fully  Illustrated.     Crown 
8vo.     6s. 

A  text-book  designed  to  cover  the  new  Schedule  issued  by  the  Royal  College  of 
Physicians  and  Surgeons. 

G.Massee.  A  MONOGRAPH  OF  THE  MYXOGASTRES.    By 

GEORGE  MASSEE.     With  12  Coloured  Plates.     Royal  8vo.     i8s.net. 

'  A  work  much  in  advance  of  any  book  in  the  language  treating  of  this  group  of 
organisms.  It  is  indispensable  to  every  student  of  the  Myxogastres.  The 
coloured  plates  deserve  high  praise  for  their  accuracy  and  execution.' — Nature. 


22  MESSRS.  METIIUEN'S  LIST 


Philosophy 


L.  T.  Eobhouse.     THE  THEORY  OF  KNOWLEDGE.    By 

L.  T.  HOBHOUSE,  Fellow  and  Tutor  of  Corpus  College,  Oxford. 
Demy  8vo.     21  s. 

1  The  most  important  contribution  to  English  philosophy  since  the  publication  of  Mr. 
Bradley's  "  Appearance  and  Reality."  Full  of  brilliant  criticism  and  of  positive 
theories  which  are  models  of  lucid  statement.' — Glasgow  Herald. 

f  An  elaborate  and  often  brilliantly  written  volume.  The  treatment  is  one  of  great 
freshness,  and  the  illustrations  are  particularly  numerous  and  apt.' — Times. 

W.  H.  Fairbrother.  THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  T.  H.  GREEN. 
By  W.  H.  FAIRBROTHER,  M.A.,  Lecturer  at  Lincoln  College, 
Oxford.  Crown  8vo.  $s.  6d. 

This  volume  is  expository,  not  critical,  and  is  intended  for  senior  students  at  the 

Universities  and  others,  as  a  statement  of  Green's  teaching,  and  an  introduction  to 

the  study  of  Idealist  Philosophy. 
'  In  every  way  an  admirable  book.    As  an  introduction  to  the  writings  of  perhaps  the 

most  remarkable  speculative  thinker  whom  England  has  produced  in  the  present 

century,  nothing  could  be  better.' — Glasgow  Herald, 

F.  W.  Bussell.  THE  SCHOOL  OF  PLATO  :  its  Origin  and 
its  Revival  under  the  Roman  Empire.  By  F.  W.  BUSSELL,  M.  A. , 
Fellow  and  Tutor  of  Brasenose  College,  Oxford.  Demy  8vo.  IDS.  6d. 

'  A  highly  valuable  contribution  to  the  history  of  ancient  thought.'— Glasgow  Herald. 
1 A  clever  and  stimulating  book,  provocative  of  thought  and  deserving  careful  reading.' 
— Manchester  Guardian. 

F.  S.  Granger.  THE  WORSHIP  OF  THE  ROMANS.  By 
F.  S.  GRANGER,  M.A.,  Litt.D.,  Professor  of  Philosophy  at  Univer 
sity  College,  Nottingham.  Crown  8vo.  6s. 

'A  scholarly  analysis  of  the  religious  ceremonies,beliefs,  and  superstitions  of  ancient 
Rome,  conducted  in  the  new  instructive  light  of  comparative  anthropology.' — 
Times. 


Theology 


.  C.  S.  Gibson.  THE  XXXIX.  ARTICLES  OF  THE 
CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.  Edited  with  an  Introduction  by  E. 
C.  S.  GIBSON,  D.D.,  Vicar  of  Leeds,  late  Principal  of  Wells 
Theological  College.  In  Two  Volumes.  DemyZvo.  \$s. 

'  The  tone  maintained  throughout  is  not  that  of  the  partial  advocate,  but  the  faithful 

exponent. ' — Scotsman. 
'There  are  ample  proofs  of  clearness  of  expression,  sobriety  of  judgment,  and  breadth 

of  view.  .  .   .  The  book  will  be  welcome  to  all  students  of  the  subject,  and  its  sound, 

definite,  and  loyal  theology  ought  to  be  of  great  service.' — National  Observer. 
1  So  far  from  repelling  the  general  reader,  its  orderly  arrangement,  lucid  treatment, 

and  felicity  of  diction  invite  and  encourage  his  attention.' — Yorkshire  Post. 


MESSRS.  METHUEN'S  LIST  23 

R.  L.  Ottley.    THE  DOCTRINE  OF  THE  INCARNATION. 

By  R.  L.  OTTLEY,  M.A.,  late  fellow  of  Magdalen  College,  Oxon., 

Principal  of  Pusey  House.    In  Two  Volumes.   Demy%vo.    \$s. 
1  Learned  and  reverent :  lucid  and  well  arranged.' — Record. 
1  Accurate,  well  ordered,  and  judicious.' — National  Observer. 
'A  clear  and  remarkably  full  account  of  the  main  currents  of  speculation.     Scholarly 

precision  .  .  .  genuine  tolerance  .    .   .   intense  interest  in  his  subject — are  Mr. 

Ottley's  merits. ' — Guardian. 

F.  B.  Jevons.  AN  INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  HISTORY 
OF  RELIGION.  By  F.  B.  JEVONS,  M.A.,  Litt.D.,  Principal  of 
Bishop  Hatfield's  Hall.  Demy  8vo.  IDJ.  6d. 

Mr.  F.  B.  Jevons1  'Introduction  to  the  History  of  Religion'  treats  of  early  religion, 
from  the  point  of  view  of  Anthropology  and  Folk-lore  ;  and  is  the  first  attempt 
that  has  been  made  in  any  language  to  weave  together  the  results  of  recent 
investigations  into  such  topics  as  Sympathetic  Magic,  Taboo,  Totemism, 
Fetishism,  etc.,  so  as  to  present  a  systematic  account  of  the  growth  of  primitive 
religion  and  the  development  of  early  religious  institutions. 

'Dr.  Jevons  has  written  a  notable  work,  and  we  can  strongly  recommend  it  to  the 
serious  attention  of  theologians,  anthropologists,  and  classical  scholars.' — Man 
chester  Guardian. 

'  The  merit  of  this  book  lies  in  the  penetration,  the  singular  acuteness  and  force  of  the 
author's  judgment.  He  is  at  once  critical  and  luminous,  at  once  just  and  suggestive. 
It  is  but  rarely  that  one  meets  with  a  book  so  comprehensive  and  so  thorough  as 
this,  and  it  is  more  than  an  ordinary  pleasure  for  the  reviewer  to  welcome  and 
recommend  it.  Dr.  Jevons  is  something  more  than  an  historian  of  primitive 
belief— he  is  a  philosophic  thinker,  who  sees  his  subject  clearly  and  sees  it  whole, 
whose  mastery  of  detail  is  no  less  complete  than  his  view  of  the  broader  aspects 
and  issues  of  his  subject  is  convincing.' — Birmingham  Post. 

S.  R.  Driver.  SERMONS  ON  SUBJECTS  CONNECTED 
WITH  THE  OLD  TESTAMENT.  By  S.  R.  DRIVER,  D.D., 
Canon  of  Christ  Church,  Regius  Professor  of  Hebrew  in  the  Uni 
versity  of  Oxford.  Crown  Svo.  6s. 

1  A  welcome  companion  to  the  author's  famous  '  Introduction.'  No  man  can  read  these 
discourses  without  feeling  that  Dr.  Driver  is  fully  alive  to  the  deeper  teaching  of 
the  Old  Testament.' — Guardian. 

T.  K.  Cheyne.    FOUNDERS  OF  OLD  TESTAMENT  CRITI 
CISM  :  Biographical,  Descriptive,  and  Critical  Studies.     By  T.  K. 
CHEYNE,  D.D.,  Oriel  Professor  of  the  Interpretation  of  Holy  Scrip 
ture  at  Oxford.     Large  crown  8vo.     Js.  6d. 
This  book  is  a  historical  sketch  of  O.  T.  Criticism  in  the  form  of  biographical  studies 

from  the  days  of  Eichhorn  to  those  of  Driver  and  Robertson  Smith. 
'A  very  learned  and  instructive  work.' — Times. 

O.H.Prior.  CAMBRIDGE  SERMONS.  Edited  by  C.H.  PRIOR, 

M.A.,  Fellow  and  Tutor  of  Pembroke  College.     Crown  8v0.     6s. 
A  volume  of  sermons    preached  before  the  University  of  Cambridge  by  various 

preachers,  including  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  and  Bishop  Westcott. 
A  representative  collection.     Bishop  Westcott's  is  a  noble  sermon.'— Guardian. 

E.  B.  Layard.  RELIGION  IN  BOYHOOD.  Notes  on  the 
Religious  Training  of  Boys.  With  a  Preface  by  J.  R.  ILLING- 
WORTH.  By  E.  B.  LAYARD,  M.A.  iSmo.  is. 


24  MESSRS.  METHUEN'S  LIST 

W.     Yorke      Faussett.       THE     DE     CATECHIZANDIS 

RUDIBUS  OF  ST.  AUGUSTINE.     Edited,    with  Introduction, 

Notes,  etc.,  by  W.  YORKE  FAUSSETT,  M.A.,  late  Scholar  of  Balliol 

Coll.     Crown  8vo.     3*.  6d. 
An  edition  of  a  Treatise  on  the  Essentials  of  Christian  Doctrine,   and  the  best 

methods  of  impressing  them  on  candidates  for  baptism. 
'Ably  and  judiciously  edited  on  the  same  principle  as  the  ordinary  Greek  and 

Latin  texts.'  —  Glasgow  Herald. 


With  Full-page  Illustrations.      Fcap.   8vo.      Buckram.      *$$.   6d. 

Padded  morocco,  $s. 

THE  IMITATION  OF  CHRIST.  By  THOMAS  A  KEMPIS. 
With  an  Introduction  by  DEAN  FARRAR.  Illustrated  by  C.  M. 
GERE,  and  printed  in  black  and  red.  Second  Edition. 
'Amongst  all  the  innumerable  English  editions  of  the  "Imitation,"  there  can  have 
been  few  which  were  prettier  than  this  one,  printed  in  strong  and  handsome  type, 
with  all  the  glory  of  red  initials.'  —  Glasgow  Herald. 

THE  CHRISTIAN  YEAR.  By  JOHN  KEBLE.  With  an  Intro 
duction  and  Notes  by  W.  LOCK,  D.D.,  Warden  of  Keble  College, 
Ireland,  Professor  at  Oxford.  Illustrated  by  R.  ANNING  BELL. 

'  The  present  edition  is  annotated  with  all  the  care  and  insight  to  be  expected  from 
Mr.  Lock.  The  progress  and  circumstances  of  its  composition  are  detailed  in  the 
Introduction.  There  is  an  interesting  Appendix  on  the  MSS.  of  the  "Christian 
Year,"  and  another  giving  the  order  in  which  the  poems  were  written.  A  "Short 
Analysis  of  the  Thought  "  is  prefixed  to  each,  and  any  difficulty  in  the  text  is  ex 
plained  in  a  note.1  —  Guardian. 

1  The  most  acceptable  edition  of  this  ever-popular  work.'  —  Globe. 


Leaders  of  Religion 

Edited  by  H.  C.  BEECHING,  M.  A.      With  Portraits,  crown  Svo. 

A  series  of  short  biographies  of  the  most  prominent  leaders  //I; 

of  religious  life  and  thought  of  all  ages  and  countries.  O  /  (^) 

The  following  are  ready—  O/ 

CARDINAL  NEWMAN.     By  R.  H.  HUTTON. 
JOHN  WESLEY.    By  J.  H.  OVERTON,  M.A. 
BISHOP  WILBERFORCE.    By  G.  W.  DANIEL,  M.A. 
CARDINAL  MANNING.     By  A.  W.  HUTTON,  M.A. 
CHARLES  SIMEON.     By  H.  C.  G.  MOULE,  M.A. 
JOHN  KEBLE.    By  WALTER  LOCK,  D.D. 
THOMAS  CHALMERS.    By  Mrs.  OLIPHANT. 
LANCELOT  ANDREWES.     By  R.  L.  OTTLEY,  M.A. 
AUGUSTINE  OF  CANTERBURY.     By  E.  L.  CUTTS,  D.D. 
WILLIAM  LAUD.     By  W.  H.  HUTTON,  B.D. 


MESSRS.  METHUEN'S  LIST  25 

JOHN  KNOX.    By  F.  M'CUNN. 
JOHN  HOWE.     By  R.  F.  HORTON,  D.D. 
BISHOP  KEN.    By  F.  A.  CLARKE,  M.A. 
GEORGE  FOX,  THE  QUAKER.    By  T.  HODGKIN,  D.C.L. 
Other  volumes  will  be  announced  in  due  course. 

Fiction 

SIX    SHILLING     NOVELS 

Marie  Corelli's  Novels 

Crown  8v0.     6s.  each. 

A  ROMANCE  OF  TWO  WORLDS.     Sixteenth  Edition. 

VENDETTA.     Thirteenth  Edition. 

THELMA.     Seventeenth  Edition. 

ARDATH.     Eleventh  Edition. 

THE  SOUL  OF  LILITH      Ninth  Edition. 

WORMWOOD.     Eighth  Edition. 

BARABBAS  :  A  DREAM  OF  THE  WORLD'S  TRAGEDY. 

Thirty-first  Edition. 

1  The  tender  reverence  of  the  treatment  and  the  imaginative  beauty  of  the  writing 
have  reconciled  us  to  the  daring  of  the  conception,  and  the  conviction  is  forced  on 
us  that  even  so  exalted  a  subject  cannot  be  made  too  familiar  to  us,  provided  it  be 
presented  in  the  true  spirit  of  Christian  faith.  The  amplifications  of  the  Scripture 
narrative  are  often  conceived  with  high  poetic  insight,  and  this  "Dream  of  the 
World's  Tragedy  "  is,  despite  some  trifling  incongruities,  a  lofty  and  not  inade 
quate  paraphrase  of  the  supreme  climax  of  the  inspired  narrative.' — Dublin 


THE  SORROWS  OF  SATAN.     Thirty-sixth  Edition. 

'  A  very  powerful  piece  of  work.  .  .  .  The  conception  is  magnificent,  and  is  likely 
to  win  an  abiding  place  within  the  memory  of  man.  .  .  .  The  author  has  immense 
command  of  language,  and  a  limitless  audacity.  .  .  .  This  interesting  and  re 
markable  romance  will  live  long  after  much  of  the  ephemeral  literature  of  the  day 
is  forgotten.  ...  A  literary  phenomenon  .  .  .  novel,  and  even  sublime.' — W.  T. 
STEAD  in  the  Review  of  Reviews. 

Anthony  Hope's  Novels 

Crown  8vo.     6s.  each. 
THE  GOD  IN  THE  CAR.     Seventh  Edition. 

'  A  very  remarkable  book,  deserving  of  critical  analysis  impossible  within  our  limit ; 
brilliant,  but  not  superficial ;  well  considered,  but  not  elaborated  ;  constructed 
with  the  proverbial  art  that  conceals,  but  yet  allows  itself  to  be  enjoyed  by  readers 
to  whom  fine  literary  method  is  a  keen  pleasure.'—  The  World. 

A  CHANGE  OF  AIR.     Fourth  Edition. 

'A  graceful,  vivacious  comedy,  true  to  human  nature.  The  characters  are  traced 
with  a  masterly  hand.' — Times, 

A  MAN  OF  MARK.     Fourth  Edition. 

(  Of  all  Mr.  Hope's  books,  "  A  Man  of  Mark  "  is  the  one  which  best  compares  with 
41  The  Prisoner  of  Zenda."  ' — National  Observer. 


26  MESSRS.  METHUEN'S  LIST 

THE  CHRONICLES  OF  COUNT  ANTONIO.    Third  Edition. 

4  It  is  a  perfectly  enchanting  story  of  love  and  chivalry,  and  pure  romance.  The 
outlawed  Count  is  the  most  constant,  desperate,  and  withal  modest  and  tender  of 
lovers,  a  peerless  gentleman,  an  intrepid  fighter,  a  very  faithful  friend,  and  a  most 
magnanimous  foe. ' — Guardian. 

PHROSO.     Illustrated  by  H.  R.  MILLAR.     Third  Edition. 

'  The  tale  is  thoroughly  fresh,  quick  with  vitality,  stirring  the  blood,  and  humoroubly, 

dashingly  told.' — St.  James's  Gazette. 
'A  story  of  adventure,  every  page  of  which  is  palpitating  with  action  and  excitement.' 

—Speaker. 
1  From  cover  to  cover  "  Phroso  "  not  only  engages  the  attention,  but  carries  the  reader 

in  little  whirls  of  delight  from  adventure  to  adventure.' — Academy 

S.  Baring  Gould's  Novels 

Crown  Sv0.     6s.  each. 

'To  say  that  a  book  is  by  the  author  of  "  Mehalah"  is  to  imply  that  it  contains  a 
story  cast  on  strong  lines,  containing  dramatic  possibilities,  vivid  and  sympathetic 
descriptions  of  Nature,  and  a  wealth  of  ingenious  imagery.' — Speaker. 
1  That  whatever  Mr.  Baring  Gould  writes  is  well  worth  reading,  is  a  conclusion  that 
may  be  very  generally  accepted.     His  views  of  life  are  fresh  and  vigorous,  his 
language  pointed  and  characteristic,  the  incidents  of  which  he  makes  use  are 
striking  and  original,  his  characters  are  life-like,  and  though  somewhat  excep 
tional  people,  are  drawn  and  coloured  with  artistic  force.     Add  to  this  that  his 
descriptions  of  scenes  and  scenery  are  painted  with  the  loving  eyes  and  skilled 
hands  of  a  master  of  his  art,  that  he  is  always  fresh  and  never  dull,  and  under 
such  conditions  it  is  no  wonder  that  readers  have  gained  confidence  both  in  his 
power  of  amusing  and  satisfying  them,  and  that  year  by  year  his  popularity 
widens.' — Court  Circular. 

ARM  I  NELL  :  A  Social  Romance.    Fourth  Edition. 
URITH  :  A  Story  of  Dartmoor.    Fifth  Edition. 

'  The  author  is  at  his  best.'—  Times. 

IN  THE  ROAR  OF  THE  SEA.     Sixth  Edition. 

'One  of  the  best  imagined  and  most  enthralling  stories  the  author  has  produced. 
— Saturday  Review. 

MRS.  CURGENVEN  OF  CURGENVEN.     Fourth  Edition. 

1  The  swing  of  the  narrative  is  splendid.' — Sussex  Daily  News. 

CHEAP  JACK  ZITA.     Fourth  Edition. 

1  A  powerful  drama  of  human  passion.' — Westminster  Gazette. 
'A  story  worthy  the  author.' — National  Observer. 

THE  QUEEN  OF  LOVE.     Fourth  Edition. 

1  You  cannot  put  it  down  until  you  have  finished  it.' — Punch. 

'  Can  be  heartily  recommended  to  all  who  care  for  cleanly,  energetic,  and  interesting 
fiction." — Sussex  Daily  News. 

KITTY  ALONE.     Fourth  Edition. 

*A  strong  and  original  story,  teeming  with  graphic  description,  stirring  incident, 
and,  above  all,  with  vivid  and  enthralling  human  interest.  — Daily  Telegraph. 

NOEMI  :   A   Romance   of  the   Cave-Dwellers.      Illustrated  by 
R.  CATON  WOODVILLE.     Third  Edition. 

'  "  Noe'mi  "  is  as  excellent  a  tale  of  fighting  and  adventure  as  one  may  wish  to  meet. 

The  narrative  also  runs  clear  and  sharp  as  the  Loire  itself." — Pall  Mall  Gazette. 
'  Mr.  Baring  Gould's  powerful  story  is  full  of  the  strong  lights  and  shadows  and 

vivid  colouring  to  which  he  has  accustomed  us.' — Standard. 


MESSRS.  METHUEN'S  LIST  27 

THE    BROOM-SQUIRE.       Illustrated    by    FRANK    DADD. 

Fourth  Edition. 
'  A  strain  of  tenderness  is  woven  through  the  web  of  his  tragic  tale,  and  its  atmosphere 

is  sweetened  by  the  nobility  and  sweetness  of  the  heroine's  character.' — Daily  News. 
'  A  story  of  exceptional  interest  that  seems  to  us  to  be  better  than  anything  he  has 

written  of  late.' — Speaker. 

THE  PENNYCOMEQUICKS.     Third  Edition. 
DARTMOOR  IDYLLS. 

'  A  book  to  read,  and  keep  and  read  again  ;  for  the  genuine  fun  and  pathos  of  it  will 
not  early  lose  their  effect.' — Vanity  Fair. 

GUAVAS  THE  TINNER.    Illustrated  by  Frank  Dadd.    Second 

Edition. 
1  Mr.  Baring  Gould  is  a  wizard  who  transports  us  into  a  region  of  visions,  often  lurid 

and  disquieting,  but  always  full  of  interest  and  enchantment.' — Spectator. 
'  In  the  weirdness  of  the  story,  in  the  faithfulness  with  which  the  characters  are 

depicted,  and  in  force  of  style,  it  closely  resembles  "  Mehalah. '" — Daily  Telegraph. 
'  There  is  a  kind  of  flavour  about  this  book  which  alone  elevates  it  above  the  ordinary 

novel.     The  story  itself  has  a  grandeur  in  harmony  with  the  wild  and  rugged 

scenery  which  is  its  setting/ — Athenteum. 

Gilbert  Parker's  Novels 

Crown  8v0.     6s.  each. 
PIERRE  AND  HIS  PEOPLE.     Fourth  Edition. 

1  Stories  happily  conceived  and  finely  executed.  There  is  strength  and  genius  in  Mr, 
Parker's  style.'— Daily  Telegraph. 

MRS.  FALCHION.     Fourth  Edition. 

'  A  splendid  study  of  character.' — A  theneeum. 

1  But  little  behind  anything  that  has  been  done  by  any  writer  of  our  time.' — Pall 
Mall  Gazette.  'A  very  striking  and  admirable  novel.'— St.  James's  Gazette. 

THE  TRANSLATION  OF  A  SAVAGE. 

'The  plot  is  original  and  one  difficult  to  work  out;  but  Mr.  Parker  has  done  it  with 
great  skill  and  delicacy.  The  reader  who  is  not  interested  in  this  original,  fresh, 
and  well-told  tale  must  be  a  dull  person  indeed.' — Daily  Chronicle. 

THE  TRAIL  OF  THE  SWORD.     Fifth  Edition. 

'Everybody  with  a  soul  for  romance  will  thoroughly  enjoy  "The  Trail  of  the 
Sword."  '— St.  James's  Gazette. 

'  A  rousing  and  dramatic  tale.  A  book  like  this,  in  which  swords  flash,  great  sur 
prises  are  undertaken,  and  daring  deeds  done,  in  which  men  and  women  live  and 
love  in  the  old  straightforward  passionate  way,  is  a  joy  inexpressible  to  the  re 
viewer.' — Daily  Chronicle. 

WHEN  VALMOND   CAME  TO  PONTIAC  :    The   Story  of 

a  Lost  Napoleon.     Fourth  Edition. 

'  Here  we  find  romance — real,  breathing,  living  romance,  but  it  runs  flush  with  our 
own  times,  level  with  our  own  feelings.  The  character  of  Valmond  is  drawn  un 
erringly  ;  his  career,  brief  as  it  is,  is  placed  before  us  as  convincingly  as  history 
itself.  The  book  must  be  read,  we  may  say  re-read,  for  any  one  thoroughly  to 
appreciate  Mr.  Parker's  delicate  touch  and  innate  sympathy  with  humanity.'— 
Pall  Mall  Gazette. 
'The  one  work  of  genius  which  1895  has  as  yet  produced.' — New  Age. 

AN  ADVENTURER  OF  THE  NORTH:   The  Last  Adven 
tures  of  '  Pretty  Pierre.'    Second  Edition. 

'The  present  book  is  full  of  fine  and  moving  stories  of  the  great  North,  and  it  will 
add  to  Mr.  Parker's  already  high  reputation.'—  Glasgow  Herald. 


28  MESSRS.  METHUEN'S  LIST 

THE  SEATS  OF  THE  MIGHTY.  Illustrated.  Eighth  Edition. 

1  The  best  thing  he  has  done  ;  one  of  the  best  things  that  any  one  has  done  lately.'— 

St.  James's  Gazette. 
'Mr.  Parker  seems  to  become  stronger  and  easier  with  every  serious  novel  that  he 

attempts.  .  .  „  In  "  The  Seats  of  the  Mighty  "  he  shows  the  matured  power  which 

his  former  novels  have  led  us  to  expect,  and  has  produced  a  really  fine  historical 

novel.   .    .   .   Most  sincerely  is   Mr.  Parker  to  be  congratulated  on  the  finest 

novel  he  has  yet  written.' — Athen&um. 
'Mr.  Parker's  latest  book  places  him  in  the  front  rank  of  living  novelists.     "The 

Seats  of  the  Mighty"  is  a  great  book.'— Black  and  White. 
'One  of  the  strongest  stories  of  historical  interest  and  adventure  that  we  have  read 

for  many  a  day.  .  .  .  A  notable  and  successful  book.' — Speaker. 


Conan  Doyle.    ROUND  THE  RED  LAMP.     By  A.  CONAN 

DOYLE,   Author  of  'The  White  Company,'   *The  Adventures  of 
Sherlock  Holmes,'  etc.    Fifth  Edition.     Crown  Svo.     6s. 
'  The  book  is,  indeed,  composed  of  leaves  from  life,  and  is  far  and  away  the  best  view 
that  has  been  vouchsafed  us  behind  the  scenes  of  the  consulting-room.     It  is  very 
superior  to  "  The  Diary  of  a  late  Physician." ' — Illustrated  London  News. 

Stanley  Weyman.  UNDER  THE  RED  ROBE.  By  STANLEY 
WEYMAN,  Author  of  *  A  Gentleman  of  France.'  With  Twelve  Illus 
trations  by;  R.  Caton  Woodville.  Twelfth  Edition.  Crown  Svo.  6s. 

'A  book  of  which  we  have  read  every  word  for  the  sheer  pleasure  of  reading,  and 
which  we  put  down  with  a  pang  that  we  cannot  forget  it  all  and  start  again.' — 
Westminster  Gazette. 

'  Every  one  who  reads  books  at  all  must  read  this  thrilling  romance,  from  the  first 
page  of  which  to  the  last  the  breathless  reader  is  haled  along.  An  inspiration  of 
"  manliness  and  courage."  ' — Daily  Chronicle. 

Lucas  Malet.  THE  WAGES  OF  SIN.  By  LUCAS 
MALET.  Thirteenth  Edition.  Crown  %vo.  6s. 

Lucas  Malet.  THE  CARISSIMA.  By  LUCAS  MALET, 
Author  of  The  Wages  of  Sin,  'etc.  Third  Edition.  CrownKvo.  6s. 

Arthur  Morrison.  TALES  OF  MEAN  STREETS.  By  ARTHUR 
MORRISON.  Fourth  Edition.  Crown  8v0.  6s. 

1  Told  with  consummate  art  and  extraordinary  detail.  He  lells  a  plain,  unvarnished 
tale,  and  the  very  truth  of  it  makes  for  beauty.  In  the  true  humanity  of  the  book 
lies  its  justification,  the  permanence  of  its  interest,  and  its  indubitable  triumph.' — 
A  tlienteutn. 

'A  great  book.  The  author's  method  is  amazingly  effective,  and  produces  a  thrilling 
sense  of  reality.  The  writer  lays  upon  us  a  master  hand.  The  book  is  simply 
appalling  and  irresistible  in  its  interest.  It  is  humorous  also  ;  without  humour 
it  would  not  make  the  mark  it  is  certain  to  make.'— World. 

Arthur  Morrison.    A  CHILD  OF  THE  JAGO.     By  ARTHUR 

MORRISON.     Third  Edition.     Crown  8vo.     6s. 
This,  the  first  long  story  which  Mr.  Morrison  has  written,  is  like  his  remarkable 

'  Tales  of  Mean  Streets,'  a  realistic  study  of  East  End  life. 
4  The  book  is  a  masterpiece.'— Pall  Mall  Gazette. 
'  Told  with  great  vigour  and  powerful  simplicity.' — Athenarum. 

Mrs.  Clifford.  A  FLASH  OF  SUMMER.  By  Mrs.  W.  K.  CLIF 
FORD,  Author  of  Aunt  Anne,' etc.  Second  Edition.  Crown^vo.  6s. 

'  The  story  is  a  very  sad  and  a  very  beautiful  one,  exquisitely  told,  and  enriched  with 
many  subtle  touches  of  wise  and  tender  insight.  It  will,  undoubtedly,  add  to  its 
author's  reputation — already  high— in  the  ranks  of  novelists." — Speaker. 


MESSRS.  METHUEN'S  LIST  29 


Emily  Lawless.     HURRISH.     By  the  Honble.  EMILY  LAW 
LESS,  Author  of  '  Maelcho,'  etc.     Fifth  Edition.     Crown  8vo.     6s. 
A  reissue  of  Miss  Lawless"  most  popular  novel,  uniform  with  '  Maelcho.' 

Emily  Lawless.  MAELCHO  :  a  Sixteenth  Century  Romance. 
By  the  Honble.  EMILY  LAWLESS.  Second  Edition.  Crown  8vo.  6s. 

'  A  really  great  book.'— Spectator. 

'There  is  no  keener  pleasure  in  life  than  the  recognition  of  genius.  Good  work  is 
commoner  than  it  used  to  be,  but  the  best  is  as  rare  as  ever.  All  the  more 
gladly,  therefore,  do  we  welcome  in  "  Maelcho  "  a  piece  of  work  of  the  first  order, 
which  we  do  not  hesitate  to  describe  as  one  of  the  most  remarkable  literary 
achievements  of  this  generation.  Miss  Lawless  is  possessed  of  the  very  essence 
of  historical  genius.' — Manchester  Guardian. 

J.  H.  Findlater.  THE  GREEN  GRAVES  OF  BALGOWRIE. 
By  JANE  H.  FINDLATER.  Fourth  Edition.  Crown  8vo.  6s. 

'A  powerful  and  vivid  story." — Standard. 

'  A  beautiful  story,  sad  and  strange  as  truth  itself.' — Vanity  Fair. 

'  A  work  of  remarkable  interest  and  originality.' — National  Observer. 

1  A.  very  charming  and  pathetic  tale.' — Pall  Mall  Gazette. 

'  A  singularly  original,  clever,  and  beautiful  story." — Guardian. 

'  "  The  Green  Graves  of  Balgowrie  "  reveals  to  us  a  new  Scotch  writer  of  undoubted 

faculty  and  reserve  force.' — Spectator. 
'An  exquisite  idyll,  delicate,  affecting,  and  beautiful." — Black  and  White. 

H.  G.  Wells.  THE  STOLEN  BACILLUS,  and  other  Stories. 
By  II.  G.  WELLS,  Author  of  'The  Time  Machine.'  Second  Edition. 
Crown  8v0.  6s. 

'  The  ordinary  reader  of  fiction  may  be  glact  to  Icnow  that  these  stones  are  eminently 
readable  from  one  cover  to  the  other,  but  they  are  more  than  that ;  they  are  the 
impressions  of  a  very  striking  imagination,  which,  it  would  seem,  has  a  great  deal 
within  its  reach.' — Saturday  Review. 

H.G.  Wells.  THE  PLATTNER  STORY  AND  OTHERS.   By  H. 

G.  WELLS.     Second  Edition.     Crown  8vo.     6s. 

'  Weird  and  mysterious,  they  seem  to  hold  the  reader  as  by  a  magic  spell.1 — Scotsman. 
'Such  is  the  fascination  of  this  writer's  skill  that  you  unhesitatingly  prophesy  that 

none  of  the  many  readers,  however  his  flesh  do  creep,  will  relinquish  the  volume 

ere  he  has  read  from  first  word  to  last." — Black  and  White. 
'No  volume  has  appeared  for  a  long  time  so  likely  to  give  equal  pleasure  to  the 

simplest  reader  and  to  the  most  fastidious  critic.' — Academy. 
'  Mr.  Wells  is  a  magician  skilled  in  wielding  that  most  potent  of  all  spells — the  fear 

of  the  unknown.1 — Daily  Telegraph. 

E.  F.  Benson,     DODO  :  A  DETAIL  OF  THE  DAY.  By  E.  F. 

BENSON.     Sixteenth  Edition.     Crown  8v0.     6s. 

1  A  delightfully  witty  sketch  of  society.' — Spectator. 
'  A  perpetual  feast  of  epigram  and  paradox.' — Speaker. 

E.  F.  Benson.    THE  RUBICON.    By  E.  F.  BENSON,  Author  of 

'Dodo.'    Fifth  Edition.     Crown  8vo.     6s. 

'  An  exceptional  achievement ;  a  notable  advance  on  his  previous  work.'— National 
Observer. 

Mrs.  Oliphaut.  SIR  ROBERT'S  FORTUNE.  By  MRS. 
OLIPHANT.  Crown  8vo.  6s. 

'  Full  of  her  own  peculiar  charm  of  style  and  simple,  subtle  character- painting  comes 
her  new  gift,  the  delightful  story  before  us.  The  scene  mostly  lies  in  the  moors, 
and  at  the  touch  of  the  authoress  a  Scotch  moor  becomes  a  living  thing,  strong, 
tender,  beautiful,  and  changeful.'— Pall  Mall  Gazette. 


3o  MESSRS.  METHUEN'S  LIST 

Mrs.  Oliphant.    THE  TWO   MARYS.    By  MRS.  OLIPHANT. 
Second  Edition.     Crown  Sv0.     6s. 

W.E.Norris.  MATTHEW  AUSTIN.  By  W.  E.  NORRIS,  Author 
of  '  Mademoiselle  de  Mersac,'  etc.    Fourth  Edition.    Crown  8vo.    6s. 

"Matthew  Austin  "  may  safely  be  pronounced  one  of  the  most  intellectually  satis 
factory  and  morally  bracing  novels  of  the  current  year.' — Daily  Telegraph. 

W.   E.   Norris.    HIS   GRACE.     By  W.  E.   NORRIS.      Third 
Edition.     Crown  Svo.     6s. 

'  Mr.  Norris  has  drawn  a  really  fine  character  in  the  Duke  of  Hurstbourne,  at  once 
unconventional  and  very  true  to  the  conventionalities  of  life.' — Athen&um. 

W.  E.  Norris.    THE   DESPOTIC    LADY    AND    OTHERS. 

By  W.  E.  NORRIS.     Crown  Svo.     6s. 
'  A  budget  of  good  fiction  of  which  no  one  will  tire.' — Scotsman. 

W.  E.  Norris.     CLARISSA    FURIOSA.    By  W.  E.  NORRIS, 
Author  of  'The  Rogue,'  etc.     Crown  8v0.     6s. 

'  One  of  Mr.  Norris's  very  best  novels.  As  a  story  it  is  admirable,  as  a  jcu  cf  esprit 
it  is  capital,  as  a  lay  sermon  studded  with  gems  of  wit  and  wisdom  it  is  a  model 
which  will  not,  we  imagine,  find  an  efficient  imitator." — The  World. 

'The  best  novel  he  has  written  for  some  time  :  a  story  which  is  full  of  admirable 
character-drawing. ' — The  Standard. 

Robert  Barr.     IN  THE  MIDST  OF  ALARMS.    By  ROBERT 
BARR.     Third  Edition.     Crown  8v0.     6s. 

'  A  book  which  has  abundantly  satisfied  us  by  its  capital  humour.'— Daily  Chronicle. 
1  Mr.  Barr  has  achieved  a  triumph  whereof  he  has  every  reason  to  ba  proud.' — Pall 
Mall  Gazette. 

J.    Maclaren   Cobban.      THE    KING    OF    ANDAMAN  :    A 

Saviour  of  Society.     By  J.  MACLAREN  COBBAN.     Crown  Svo.     6s. 

'  An  unquestionably  interesting  book.  It  would  not  surprise  us  if  it  turns  out  to  be 
the  most  interesting  novel  of  the  season,  for  it  contains  one  character,  at  least, 
who  has  in  him  the  root  of  immortality,  and  the  book  itself  is  ever  exhaling  the 
sweet  savour  of  the  unexpected.  .  .  .  Plot  is  forgotten  and  incident  fades,  and 
only  the  really  human  endures,  and  throughout  this  book  there  stands  out  in  bold 
and  beautiful  relief  its  high-souled  and  chivalric  protagonist,  James  the  Master 
of  Hutcheon,  the  King  of  Andaman  himself.' — Pall  Mall  Gazette. 

J.  Maclaren  Cobban.    WILT  THOU  HAVE  THIS  WOMAN  ? 
By  J .  M .  COBBAN,  Author  of '  The  King  of  Andaman. '   Crown  %vo.  6s. 

1  Mr.  Cobban  has  the  true  story-teller's  art.  He  arrests  attention  at  the  outset,  and 
he  retains  it  to  the  end.' — Birmingham  Post. 

H.  Morrah.    A  SERIOUS  COMEDY.    By  HERBERT  MORRAH. 
Crown  8v0.     6s. 

1  This  volume  is  well  worthy  of  its  title.  The  theme  has  seldom  been  presented  with 
more  freshness  or  more  force.' — Scotsman, 


MESSRS.  METHUEN'S  LIST  31 

H.  Morrah.    THE  FAITHFUL  CITY.    By  HERBERT  MORRAH, 

Author  of  '  A  Serious  Comedy. '     Crown  Svo.     6s. 

'Conveys  a  suggestion  of  weirdness  and  horror,  until  finally  he  convinces  and 
enthrals  the  reader  with  his  mysterious  savages,  his  gigantic  tower,  and  his 
uncompromising  men  and  women.  This  is  a  haunting,  mysterious  book,  not 
without  an  element  of  stupendous  grandeur.' — Athen&um. 

L.  B.  Walford.     SUCCESSORS  TO  THE  TITLE.    By  MRS. 
WALFORD,  Author  of '  Mr.  Smith, 'etc.  Second  Edition.  CrownSvo.  6s. 

'  The  story  is  fresh  and  healthy  from  beginning  to  finish  ;  and  our  liking  for  the  two 
simple  people  who  are  the  successors  to  the  title  mounts  steadily,  and  ends  almost 
in  respect.' — Scotsman. 

T.  L.  Paton.     A  HOME  IN   INVERESK.     By  T.  L.  PATON. 

Crown  8vo.     6s. 
'A  pleasant  and  well-written  story.'— Daily  Chronicle. 

John  Davidson     MISS  ARMSTRONG'S  AND  OTHER  CIR 
CUMSTANCES.     By  JOHN  DAVIDSON.     Crown  %vo.    6s. 

1  Throughout  the  volume  there  is  a  strong  vein  of  originality,  and  a  knowledge  of 
human  nature  that  are  worthy  of  the  highest  praise." — Scotsman. 

M.  M.  Dowie.    GALLIA.    By  MENIE  MURIEL  DOWIE,  Author 

of  *  A  Girl  in  the  Carpathians.'     Third  Edition.     Crown  8vo.    6s. 
'The  style  is  generally  admirable,  the  dialogue  not  seldom  brilliant,  the  situations 
surprising  in  their  freshness  and  originality,  while  the  subsidiary  as  well  as  the 
principal  characters  live  and  move,  and  the  story  itself  is  readable  from  title-page 
to  colophon.' — Saturday  Review. 

J.  A.  Barry.     IN  THE  GREAT  DEEP  :  TALES  OF  THE  SEA. 
By  J.  A.  BARRY.    Author  of  '  Steve  Brown's  Bunyip.'    Crown  Svo.  6s. 
'A  collection  of  really  admirable  short  stories  of  the  sea,  very  simply  told,  and  placed 
before  the  reader  in  pithy  and  telling  English." — Westminster  Gazette. 

J.  B.  Burton.    IN  THE  DAY  OF  ADVERSITY.    ByJ.  BLOUN- 

DELLE  BURTON.'     Second  Edition.     Crown^vo.   65. 
'  Unusually  interesting  and  full  of  highly  dramatic  situations.'— Guardian. 

J.  B.  Burton.   DENOUNCED.    By  J.  BLOUNDELLE  BURTON. 

Second  Edition.     Crown  8v0.    6s. 

The  plot  is  an  original  one,  and  the  local  colouring  is  laid  on  with  a  delicacy 
and  an  accuracy  of  detail  which  denote  the  true  artist." — Broad  Arrow. 

W.    C.    Scully.     THE    WHITE    HECATOMB.     By  W.   C. 

SCULLY,  Author  of  '  Kafir  Stories.'     Crown  8v0.     6s. 
'  The  author  is  so  steeped  in  Kaffir  lore  and  legend,  and  so  thoroughly  well  acquainted 

with  native  sagas  and  traditional  ceremonial  that  he  is  able  to  attract  the  reader 

by  the  easy  familiarity  with  which  he  handles  his  characters.' — South  Africa. 
1  It  reveals  a  marvellously  intimate  understanding  of  the  Kaffir  mind,  allied  with 

literary  gifts  of  no  mean  order.' — African  Critic. 

H.  Johnston.     DR.   CONGALTON'S  LEGACY.    By  HENRY 
JOHNSTON.     Crown  &vo.    6s. 

'  A  worthy  and  permanent  contribution  to  Scottish  literature.  '—Glasgow  Herald. 


32  MESSRS.  METHUEN'S  LIST 

J.  F.  Brewer.    THE  SPECULATORS.    By  J.   F.   BREWER. 

Second  Edition.       Crown  8vo.     6s, 

'A  pretty  bit  of  comedy.  .  .  ,     It  is  undeniably  a  clever  booK.' — Academy. 
'  A  clever  and  amusing  story.     It  makes  capital  out  of  the  comic  aspects  of  culture, 

and  will  be  read  with  amusement  by  every  intellectual  re?der." — Scotsman. 
'A  remarkably  clever  study.' — Vanity  Fa.tr. 

Julian  Corbett.  A  BUSINESS  IN  GREAT  WATERS.  By 
JULIAN  CORBETT.  Crown  8w.  6s. 

'  Mr.  Corbett  writes  with  immense  spirit,  and  the  book  is  a  thoroughly  enjoyable 
one  in  all  respects.  The  salt  of  the  ocean  is  in  it,  and  the  right  heroic  ring  re 
sounds  through  its  gallant  adventures.1 — Speaker. 

L.  Cope  Cornford.     CAPTAIN  JACOBUS :  A  ROMANCE  OF 

THE  ROAD.    By  L.  COPE  CORNFORD.    Illustrated.    CrownSvo.  6s. 

1  An  exceptionally  good  story  of  adventure  and  character." — World. 

0.  P.  Wolley.  THE  QUEENSBERRY  CUP.  A  Tale  of 
Adventure.  By  CLIVE  PHILLIPS  WOLLEY.  Illustrated.  Crown 
8vo.  6s. 

'  A  book  which  will  delight  boys:  a  book  which  upholds  the  healthy  schoolboy  code 
of  morality.' — Scotsman. 

L.  Daintrey.     THE  KING  OF  ALBERIA.     A  Romance  of 

the  Balkans.     By  LAURA  DAINTREY.     Crown  8vo.     6s. 

1  Miss  Daintrey  seems  to  have  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  people  and  politics 
of  the  Balkan  countries  in  which  the  scene  of  her  lively  and  picturesque  romance 
is  laid. ' — Glasgow  Herald. 

M.  A.  Owen.  THE  DAUGHTER  OF  ALOUETTE.  By 
MARY  A.  OWEN.  Crown  8vo.  6s. 

A  story  of  life  among  the  American  Indians. 
'A  fascinating  story.' — Literary  World. 

Mrs.  Pinsent.  CHILDREN  OF  THIS  WORLD.  By  ELLEN 
F.  PINSENT,  Author  of  'Jenny's  Case.'  Crown  8vo.  6s. 

'  Mrs.  Pinsent's  new  novel  has  plenty  of  vigour,  variety,  and  good  writing.  There 
are  certainty  of  purpose,  strength  of  touch,  and  clearness  of  vision.' — Athenaum. 

Clark  Russell.      MY    DANISH    SWEETHEART.      By   W. 

CLARK  RUSSELL,  Author  of  *  The  Wreck  of  the  Grosvenor,'  etc. 
Illustrated.     Fourth  Edition.     Crown  8vo.     6s. 

G.  Manville  Fenn.  AN  ELECTRIC  SPARK.  By  G.  MANVILLE 
FENN,  Author  of  '  The  Vicar's  Wife,'  'A  Double  Knot,'  etc.  Second 
Edition.  Crown  8vo.  6s. 

L.  S.  McChesney.    UNDER  SHADOW  OF  THE  MISSION. 

By  L.  S.  McCHESNEY.     Crown  %vo.     6s. 

1  Those  whose  minds  are  open  to  the  finer  issues  of  life,  who  can  appreciate  graceful 
thought  and  refined  expression  of  it,  from  them  this  volume  will  receive  a  welcome 
as  enthusiastic  as  it  will  be  based  on  critical  knowledge.' — Church  Times. 

Ronald   Ross.     THE   SPIRIT   OF   STORM.     By   RONALD 
Ross,  Author  of  '  The  Child  of  Ocean. '     Crown  8vo.     6s. 
A  romance  of  the  Sea.  '  Weird,  powerful,  and  impressive.' — Black  and  White. 


MESSRS.  METHUEN'S  LIST  33 

R.  Pryce.    TIME  AND  THE  WOMAN.    By  RICHARD  PRYCE. 
Second  Edition.     Crown  Svo.     6s. 

Mrs.  Watson.     THIS  MAN'S  DOMINION.     By  the  Author 
of  '  A  High  Little  World.'     Second  Edition.     Crown  %vo.     6s. 

Marriott     Watson.       DIOGENES      OF     LONDON.       By 

H.  B.  MARRIOTT  WATSON.     Crown  8vo.     Buckram.     6s. 

M.   Gilchrist.    THE  STONE  DRAGON.     By  MURRAY   GIL- 
CHRIST.     Crown  %vo.    Buckram.    6s. 

1  The  author's  faults  are  atoned  for  by  certain  positive  and  admirable  merits.  The 
romances  have  not  their  counterpart  in  modern  literature,  and  to  read  them  is  a 
unique  experience.' — National  Observer. 

E.  Dickinson.    A  VICAR'S  WIFE.    By  EVELYN  DICKINSON. 

Crown  Svo.     6s. 
E.  M.  Gray.    ELSA.     By  E.  M 'QUEEN  GRAY.    Crown  Svo.    6s. 


3/6 


THREE-AND-SIXPENNY     NOVELS 

Crown  *&vo. 

DERRICK  VAUGHAN,  NOVELIST.     By  EDNA  LYALL. 
MARGERY  OF  QUETHER.     By  S.  BARING  GOULD. 
JACQUETTA.    By  S.  BARING  GOULD. 
SUBJECT  TO  VANITY.    By  MARGARET  BENSON. 
THE   SIGN  OF   THE    SPIDER.    By  BERTRAM    MITFORD. 
THE  MOVING  FINGER.     By  MARY  GAUNT. 
JACO  TRELOAR.    By  J.  H.  PEARCE. 
THE  DANCE  OF  THE  HOURS.     By'VERA.' 
A  WOMAN  OF  FORTY.     By  ESM£  STUART. 
A    CUMBERER    OF    THE    GROUND.      By    CONSTANCE 

SMITH. 

THE  SIN  OF  ANGELS.   By  EVELYN  DICKINSON. 
AUT   DIABOLUS   AUT  NIHIL.     By  X.  L. 
THE  COMING  OF  CUCULAIN.     By  STANDISH  O'GRADY. 
THE    GODS   GIVE   MY    DONKEY    WINGS.      By  ANGUS 

EVAN  ABBOTT. 

THE  STAR  GAZERS.    By  G.  MANVILLE  FENN. 
THE  POISON  OF  ASPS.     By  R.  ORTON  PROWSE. 
THE  QUIET  MRS.  FLEMING.    By  R.  PRYCE. 
DISENCHANTMENT.    By  F.  MABEL  ROBIMSON. 
THE  SQUIRE  OF  WANDALES.    By  A.  SHIELD. 
A  REVEREND  GENTLEMAN.     By  J.  M.  COBBAN. 


34  MESSRS.  METHUEN'S  LIST 

A  DEPLORABLE  AFFAIR.     By  W.  E.  NORRIS. 

A  CAVALIER'S  LADYE.     By  Mrs.  DICKER. 

THE  PRODIGALS.     By  Mrs.  OLIPHANT. 

THE  SUPPLANTER.     By  P.  NEUMANN. 

A  MAN  WITH  BLACK  EYELASHES.     By  H.  A.  KENNEDY. 

A  HANDFUL  OF  EXOTICS.    By  S.  GORDON. 

AN  ODD  EXPERIMENT.    By  HANNAH  LYNCH. 


2/6 


HALF-CROWN      NOVELS 

A  Series  of  Novels  by  popular  Authors, 

1.  HOVENDEN,  V.C.     By  F.  MABEL  ROBINSON. 

2.  ELI'S  CHILDREN.    By  G.  MANVILLE  FENN. 

3.  A  DOUBLE  KNOT.    By  G.  MANVILLE  FENN. 

4.  DISARMED.    By  M.  BETHAM  EDWARDS. 

5.  A  MARRIAGE  AT  SEA.    By  W.  CLARK  RUSSELL. 

6.  IN  TENT  AND  BUNGALOW.    By  the  Author  of  '  Indian 

Idylls.' 

7.  MY  STEWARDSHIP.     By  E.  M'QuEEN  GRAY. 

8.  JACK'S  FATHER.     By  W.  E.  NORRIS. 

9.  JIM  B. 

10.  THE  PLAN  OF  CAMPAIGN.     By  F.  MABEL  ROBINSON. 

11.  MR.  BUTLER'S  WARD.    By  F.  MABEL  ROBINSON. 

12.  A  LOST  ILLUSION.    By  LESLIE  KEITH. 


Lynn  Linton.  THE  TRUE  HISTORY  OF  JOSHUA  DAVID 
SON,  Christian  and  Communist.  By  E.  LYNN  LINTON.  Eleventh 
Edition.  Post  8vo.  is. 


Books  for  Boys  and  Girls 

A  Series  of  Books  by  well-known  Authors,  well  illustrated. 

1.  THE  ICELANDER'S  SWORD.    By  S.  BARING  GOULD. 

2.  TWO   LITTLE   CHILDREN   AND    CHING.     By  EDITI 

E.  CUTHELL. 

3.  TODDLEBEN'S  HERO.    By  M.  M.  BLAKE. 

4.  ONLY  A  GUARD-ROOM  DOG.    By    EDITH  E.  CUTHELL. 

5.  THE  DOCTOR  OF  THE  JULIET.    By  HARRY  COLLIN< 

WOOD. 

6.  MASTER  ROCKAFELLAR'S  VOYAGE.     By  W.   CLARI 

RUSSELL. 

7.  SYD  BELTON  :    Or,  The  Boy  who  would  not  go  to  Sea. 

By  G.  MANVILLE  FENN. 


MESSRS.  METHUEN'S  LIST  35 

The  Peacock  Library 


3/6 


A   Series  of  Books  for   Girls   by  -well-known    Authors, 
handsomely  bound  in  blue  and  silver^  and  well  illustrated. 

1.  A  PINCH  OF  EXPERIENCE.    By  L.  B.  WALFORD. 

2.  THE  RED  GRANGE.    By  Mrs.  MOLESWORTH. 

3.  THE  SECRET  OF  MADAME  DE  MONLUC.      By  the 

Author  of*  Male  Mori.' 

4.  DUMPS.     By  Mrs.  PARR,  Author  of  'Adam  and  Eve.' 

5.  OUT  OF  THE  FASHION.    By  L.  T.  MEADE. 

6.  A  GIRL  OF  THE  PEOPLE.     By  L.  T.  MEADE. 

7.  HEPSY  GIPSY.    By  L.  T.  MEADE.    2s.  6d. 

8.  THE  HONOURABLE  MISS.    By  L.  T.  MEADE. 

9.  MY  LAND  OF  BEULAH.    By  Mrs.  LEITH  ADAMS. 

University    Extension   Series 

A  series  of  books  on  historical,  literary,  and  scientific  subjects,  suitable 
for  extension  students  and  home-reading  circles.  Each  volume  is  com 
plete  in  itself,  and  the  subjects  are  treated  by  competent  writers  in  a 
broad  and  philosophic  spirit. 

Edited  byj.  E.  SYMES,  M.A., 

Principal  of  University  College,  Nottingham, 

Crown  8v0.    Price  (with  some  exceptions)  2s.  6d. 

The  following  volumes  are  ready : — 

THE  INDUSTRIAL  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  By  H.  DE  B.  GIBBINS, 
D.Litt. ,  M.  A.,  late  Scholar  of  Wadham  College,  Oxon.,  Cobden  Prizeman. 
Fifth  Edition,  Revised.  With  Maps  and  Plans,  y. 

'A  compact  and  clear  story  of  our  industrial  development.  A  study  of  this  concise 
but  luminous  book  cannot  fail  to  give  the  reader  a  clear  insight  into  the  principal 
phenomena  of  our  industrial  history.  The  editor  and  publishers  are  to  be  congrat 
ulated  on  this  first  volume  of  their  venture,  and  we  shall  look  with  expectant 
interest  for  the  succeeding  volumes  of  the  series.' — University  Extension  Journal. 

A  HISTORY  OF  ENGLISH  POLITICAL  ECONOMY.  By  L.  L.  PRICE, 
M.A.,  Fellow  of  Oriel  College,  Oxon.  Second  Edition. 

PROBLEMS  OF  POVERTY :  An  Inquiry  into  the  Industrial  Conditions  6\ 
the  Poor.  By  J.  A.  HOBSON,  M.A.  Third  Edition. 

VICTORIAN  POETS.    By  A.  SHARP. 

THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION.     By  J.  E.  SYMES,  M.A. 

PSYCHOLOGY     By  F.  S.  GRANGER,  M.A. 


36  MESSRS.  METHUEN'S  LIST 

THE  EVOLUTION  OF  PLANT  LIFE:  Lower  Forms.     By  G.  MASSEE. 

With  Illustrations. 

AIR  AND  WATER.     Professor  V.  B.  LEWES,  M.A.     Illustrated. 
THE  CHEMISTRY  OF  LIFE  AND  HEALTH.     By  C.  W.  KIMMINS, 
M.A.     Illustrated. 

THE  MECHANICS  OF  DAILY  LIFE.  By  V.  P.  SELLS,  M.A.  Illustrated. 
ENGLISH  SOCIAL  REFORMERS.  H.  DE  B.  GIBBINS,  D.Litt.,  M.A. 

ENGLISH    TRADE    AND    FINANCE    IN    THE    SEVENTEENTH 
CENTURY.     By  W.  A.  S.  HEWINS,  B.A. 

THE  CHEMISTRY  OF  FIRE.     The  Elementary  Principles  of  Chemistry. 
By  M.  M.  PATTISON  MUIR,  M.A.    Illustrated. 

A  TEXT-BOOK  OF  AGRICULTURAL  BOTANY.     By  M.  C.  POTTER, 
M.A..  F.L.S.     Illustrated,     y.  6d. 

THE  VAULT  OF   HEAVEN.     A   Popular   Introduction  to  Astronomy. 
By  R.  A.  GREGORY.      With  numerous  Illustrations. 

METEOROLOGY.     The  Elements  of  Weather  and  Climate.     By  H.    N. 
DlCKSON,  F.R.S.E.,  F.R.  Met.  Soc.     Illustrated. 

A  MANUAL  OF  ELECTRICAL  SCIENCE.     By  GEORGE  J.   BURCH, 
M.A.      With  numerous  Illustrations,     y. 

THE  EARTH.     An  Introduction  to  Physiography.    By  EVAN  SMALL,  M.A. 
Illustrated. 

INSECT  LIFE.     By  F.  W.  THEOBALD,  M.A.     Illustrated. 

ENGLISH    POETRY   FROM   BLAKE  TO  BROWNING.     By   W.    M. 

DIXON,  M.A. 
ENGLISH  LOCAL  GOVERNMENT.     By  E.  JENKS,  M.A.,  Professor  of 

Law  at  University  College,  Liverpool. 
THE  GREEK  VIEW  OF  LIFE.     By  G.  L.  DICKINSON,  Fellow  of  King's 

College,  Cambridge.     Second  Edition. 

Social  Questions  of  To-day 

Edited  by  H.  DE  B.  GIBBINS,  D.Litt.,  M.A. 

Crown  8vo.     2s.  6d.  \  £ 

A  series  of  volumes  upon  those  topics  of  social,  economic,         ^t  \  \_J 
and  industrial  interest  that  are  at  the  present  moment  fore-  / 

most  in  the  public  mind.  Each  volume  of  the  series  is  written  by  an 
author  who  is  an  acknowledged  authority  upon  the  subject  with  which 
he  deals. 

The  following  Volumes  of  the  Series  are  ready  : — 

TRADE    UNIONISM— NEW  AND    OLD.     By  G.  HOWELL,  Author  of 
'  The  Conflicts  of  Capital  and  Labour.'     Second  Edition. 

THE  CO-OPERATIVE  MOVEMENT  TO-DAY.     By  G.  J.  HOLYOAKE, 
Author  of  '  The  History  of  Co-Operation.'    Second  Edition. 

MUTUAL  THRIFT.     By  Rev.  J.  FROME  WILKINSON,   M.A.,  Author  of 
'  The  Friendly  Society  Movement.' 


MESSRS,  METHUEN'S  LIST  37 

PROBLEMS  OF  POVERTY  :  An  Inquiry  into  the  Industrial  Conditions  of 
the  Poor.     By  J.  A.  HOBSON,  M.A.     Third  Edition. 

THE  COMMERCE  OF  NATIONS.     By  C.  F.  BASTAPLE,  M.A.,  Professor 
of  Economics  at  Trinity  College,  Dublin. 

THE  ALIEN  INVASION.     By  W.   H.  WILKINS,   B.A.,  Secretary  to  the 
Society  for  Preventing  the  Immigration  of  Destitute  Aliens. 

THE  RURAL  EXODUS.     By  P.  ANDERSON  GRAHAM. 
LAND  NATIONALIZATION.     By  HAROLD  Cox,  B.A. 

A  SHORTER  WORKING   DAY.     By  H.  DE  B.  GIBBINS,  D.Litt.,  M.A., 
and  R.  A.  HADFIELD,  of  the  Hecla  Works,  Sheffield. 

BACK  TO  THE  LAND :  An  Inquiry  into  the  Cure  for  Rural  Depopulation. 
By  H.  E.  MOORE. 

TRUSTS,  POOLS  AND  CORNERS:  As  affecting  Commerce  and  Industry. 
By  J.  STEPHEN  JEANS,  M.R.I.,  F.S.S. 

THE  FACTORY  SYSTEM.     By  R.  COOKE  TAYLOR. 

THE  STATE  AND  ITS  CHILDREN.    By  GERTRUDE  TUCKWEL.L. 

WOMEN'S  WORK.    By  LADY  DILKE,  Miss  BULLEY,  and  Miss  WHITLEY. 

MUNICIPALITIES    AT   WORK.     The  Municipal  Policy  of  Six  Great 
Towns,  and  its  Influence  on  their  Social  Welfare.  By  FREDERICK  DOLMAN. 

SOCIALISM  AND  MODERN  THOUGHT.     By  M.  KAUFMANN. 
THE  HOUSING  OF  THE  WORKING  CLASSES.    By  R.  F.  BOWMAKER. 
MODERN  CIVILIZATION  IN  SOME  OF  ITS  ECONOMIC  ASPECTS. 
By  W,  CUNNINGHAM,  D.D.,  Fellow  of  Trinity  College,  Cambridge. 

THE  PROBLEM   OF  THE  UNEMPLOYED.      By  J.  A.  HOBSON,  B.A., 
Author  of  '  The  Problems  of  Poverty.' 

LIFE  IN  WEST  LONDON.'  By  ARTHUR  SHER.WELL,  M.A.   Second  Edition. 


Classical  Translations 

Editedby  H.  F.  FOX,  M.  A. ,  Fellow  and  Tutor  of  Brasenose  College,  Oxford. 

Messrs.  Methuen  are  issuing  &  New  Series  of  Translations  from  the 
Greek  and  Latin  Classics.  They  have  enlisted  the  services  of  some 
of  the  best  Oxford  and  Cambridge  Scholars,  and  it  is  their  intention  that 
the  Series  shall  be  distinguished  by  literary  excellence  as  well  as  by 
scholarly  accuracy. 

>£SCHYLUS — Agamemnon,  Choephoroe,  Eumenides.  Translated  by  LEWIS 
CAMPBELL,  LL.D-,  late  Professor  of  Greek  at  St.  Andrews,  5^. 

CICERO— De  Oratore  I.     Translated  by  E.  N.  P.  MOOR,  M.A.     y.  6d. 

CICERO  —  Select  Orations  (Pro  Milone,  Pro  Murena,  Philippic  II.,  In 
Catilinam).  Translated  by  H.  E.  D.  BLAKISTON,  M.A.,  Fellow  and 
Tutor  of  TI  inity  College,  Oxford.  55. 


MESSRS.  METHUEN'S  LIST 

CICERO— De  Natura  Deorum.  Translated  by  F.  BROOKS,  M.A.,  late 
Scholar  of  Balliol  College,  Oxford.  35.  6d. 

LUCIAN— Six  Dialogues  (Nigrinus,  Icaro-Menippus,  The  Cock,  TheShip,  The 
Parasite,  The  Lover  of  Falsehood).  Translated  by  S.  T.  IR  WIN,  M.  A.,  Assis 
tant  Master  at  Clifton  ;  late  Scholar  of  Exeter  College,  Oxford.  y.  6d. 

SOPHOCLES— Electra  and  Ajax.  Translated  by  E.  D.  A.  MORSHEAD 
M.A.,  Assistant  Master  at  Winchester.  2s.  6d. 

TACITUS— Agricola  and  Germania.  Translated  by  R.  B.  TOWNSHEND, 
late  Scholar  of  Trinity  College,  Cambridge.  2s.  6d. 


Educational  Books 


CLASSICAL 

PLAUTI    BACCHIDES.      Edited  with   Introduction,    Commentary, 

Critical  Notes  by  J.  M'COSH,  M.A.     Fcap.  4/0.     \zs.  6d. 
'The  notes  are  copious,  and  contain  a  great  deal  of  information  that  is  good  and 
useful. ' — Classical  Review. 

TACITI  AGRICOLL  With  Introduction,  Notes,  Map,  etc.  By  R.  F. 
DAVIS,  M.A.,  Assictant  Master  at  Weymouth  College.  Crown  8vo.  2s. 

TACITI  GERMANIA.     By  the  same  Editor.     Crown  8vo.    as. 

HERODOTUS  :  EASY  SELECTIONS.  With  Vocabulary.  By  A.  C. 
LIDDELL,  M.A.,  Assistant  Master  at  Nottingham  High  School.  Fcap. 
8vo.  is.  6d. 

SELECTIONS  FROM  THE  ODYSSEY.  By  E.  D.  STONE,  M. A.,  late 
Assistant  Master  at  Eton.  Fcap.  8vo.  is.  6d. 

PLAUTUS  :  THE  CAPTIVI.  Adapted  for  Lower  Forms  by  J.  H.  FRESSE, 
M.A.,  late  Fellow  of  St.  John's,  Cambridge,  is.  6d. 

DEMOSTHENES  AGAINST  CONON  AND  CALLICLES.  Edited  with 
Notes  and  Vocabulary,  by  F.  DARWIN  SWIFT,  M.A.,  formerly  Scholar 
of  Queen's  College,  Oxford;  Assistant  Master  at  Denstone  College. 
Fcap.  8vo.  2s. 

GERMAN 

A  COMPANION  GERMAN  GRAMMAR.  By  H.  DE  B.  GIBBINS,  D.Litt, 
M,A.,  Assistant  Master  at  Nottingham  High  School.  Crown  81-0.  is.  6d. 

GERMAN  PASSAGES  FOR  UNSEEN  TRANSLATION.  By  E. 
M'QuEEN  GRAY.  Crown  8vo.  2s.  6.v. 

SCIENCE 

THE  WORLD  OF  SCIENCE.  Including  Chemistry,  Heat,  Light,  Sound, 
Magnetism,  Electricity,  Botany,  Zoology,  Physiology,  Astronomy,  and 
Geology.  By  R.  ELLIOTT  STEEL,  M.A.,  i-'.C.S.  147  Illustrations. 
Second  Edition.  Crown  8vo.  2s.  6d. 

'  If  Mr.  Steel  is  to  be  placed  second  to  any  for  this  quality  of  lucidity,  it  is  only  to 
Huxley  himself;  and  to  be  named  in  the  same  breath  with  this  master  of  the 
craft  of  teaching  is  to  be  accredited  with  the  clearness  of  style  and  simplicity  of 
arrangement  that  belong  to  thorough  mastery  of  a  subject.  -Parents'  Review. 

ELEMENTARY  LIGHT.  By  R.  E.  STEEL.  With  mime  -Ous  Illustrations. 
Crown  8vo.  4?.  6d. 


70 


/ 


JAN  2  5  1990 


PLEASE  DO  NOT  REMOVE 
CARDS  OR  SLIPS  FROM  THIS  POCKET 

DIVERSITY  OF  TORONTO  LIBRARY