POETICAL WORKS
BY
HERBERT, GEORGE
PR.
0*7
CONTENTS.
Those vita a star [*] are in the Williams MS. ; t indicates additions
or various readings in the Notes and Illustrations : J appear fur
the first time. The H and $ prefixed to the headings of tne poems
nf the Temple are given as in 1632-3 onward.
PAGE
DEDICATION TO PROFESSOR MORLEY . . ix
EDITOR'S I*RKFACE xi
I. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION — i. Biographical . xxiii
ii. Critical . Ixih
II. THE TEMPLE : Sacred Poems and Private
Ejaculations
. pp. 1-235
u
iGE
PAGE
The Printers to the Reader
5
*t20. The Holy Commu-
I. The Dedication
9
nion . . .
72
•til. The Church Porch .
9
21. Antiphon.
74
III. Snperliminare .
40
*22. Love, I. and II.
74
IV. The Church . 41-235
•t23. The Temper .
76
•I. The Altar
41
*24. The Temper .
77
*t2. The Sacrifice .
42
*t25. Jordan
78
M3. The Thanksgiving .
*t4. The Second Thanks-
51
*t26. Employment .
•27. The Holy Scriptures,
79
giving, or the Re-
I. and II. .
80
prisall .
54
*t28. Whitsunday .
81
5. The Agonie .
55
•29. Grace , .
82
»6. The Sinner
56
*t30. Praise
83
»t7. Good-Friday .
66
31. Affliction .
84
t8. Redemption
58
*32. Mattens .
85
9. Sepulchre
58
•83. Sinne
86
HII. Easter and The Song,
34. Even-Song
87
and another ver-
*t35. Church Monuments.
88
sion
59
»t3H. Church Musick
89
til. Easter Wings .
'••-'
*t37. Church Lock and
*t!2. Holy Baptisme
63
Key .
89
•13. Holy Baptisme
63
t38. The Church Floore .
90
•14. Nature .
64
39. The Windows .
91
tlfi. Sinne
65
*t40. Trinitie Sunday
92
Ml«. AflSiction .
65
»ll. Content .
92
*t!7. Repentance .
68
*t42. The Qnidditie .
94
»t!8. Faith
70
*43. Hnmilitie
94
•19. Prayer .
72
•44. Frailtie .
96
CONTENTS.
PAGE
PAGE
45. Constancie
97
97. Giddinesse . . I'i3
46. Amu-lion .
88
98. The Buuch of Grapes 164
47. The Starre
99
99. Love unknown . 1(56
*t48. Sunday .
161
100. Man's Medley . . 1' -
49. Avarice .
103
101. The Storm . . 1 '.'
50. Anagram : Mary,
102. Paradise . . .170
Army .
103
103. The Method . .171
*t51. To all Angels and
^104 Diviuitie . . .172
Saints .
104
105. " Grieve not the Holy
*to3. Employment .
105
Spirit" (Epht-> iv.
*53. Deuiall
106
80) 173
*t54. Christmas
107
10»i. The Familie . 175
*55. Ungratefulnesse
109
HIT. The Size . . . 17'i
56. Sighs anil Grones
110
10S. Artillerie. . . ITS
»t57. The World
111
109. Church -Bents or
*58. Our Life is Hid with
Schismes . .171"
Christ iu God (Co-
110. Justice . . .180
loss, iii. 3) .
113
111. The Pilgrimage . 181
59. Vanitie .
113
112. The Holdfast . . 1>2
*t«0. Lent
61. Vertne
114
116
113. Complaining .
111. The Discharge . . IM
*tt$2. The Pearl (Matt.
115. Praise . . . l.sti
xiii.)
117
116. Aii Offer! g . .187
*t63. Tentation (— Afflic-
117. Longing . . . l-'.t
tion)
119
118. The Bag . . . 192
•t64. Man
120
119. The Jews . . 19:*
•65. Antiphon .
122
^•120. The Collar . . I'M
•66. Uulnndnesse . .
123
121. The Glimpse . . litf
67. Life . . . .
124
122. Assurance . 19 i
68. Submission
Itt
123. The Call .
69. Justice . ' .
125
124. Clasping of Hands
*t70. Charms and Knots .
IM
12"). Praise . .199
*71. Affliction .
127
12ii. Joseph's Coat . .201
*72. Mortification .
128
127. The Pulley . . 2"l
73. Dec-ay
129
128. The Priesthood . 21 '2
Miserie .
130
129. The Search . .904
»t75. Jordan .
133
ISO. Grief
*76. Prayer .
IM
131. TheCrosse . . 2" 7
*t77. Obedience
135
1-2. The Flower .
7^ Conscience
136
133. Dotage . . . 21 n
79. Sion
m
134. The' Sonne . . 211
80. Home
138
135. A True Hymne . 211
81. The British Church
141
136. The Answer . . 212
82. The Quip ..
83. Vanitie .
142
143
137. A Dialogue-Anthem :
Christian, Death . 213
84. The Dawning .
141
138. The Water-course . 211
80. Jesu.," .
14.-. •
• 1. ".'.i. Self-Condemnation . 214
86. Busiuesse .
140
14d. Hitter-Sweet . . 215
87. Dialogue.'
147
141. The Glance . . 215
88. Dulnesse-.
148
1 12. The 2: nl Psalm . 216
89. Love-joy:
160
143. Marie Magdalene . 217
90. Providence • .
150
111. Aiirou- . . . 218
91. Hope .- . .
167
14o. The Odour (2 Cor.
92. Sinne's. Round;.
IM
xi.) . . .219
93. Time • .
US
1 1>1. The Foil . . 220
94. Gratefulness* .
1.-.9
117. The Forerunners . 221
»95. Peace
1 1*. The H.isc . . L'L'2
86. Confession
162
149. Discipline . . 223
CONTENTS.
FADE
150. The Invitation. . 234
PAGE
156. Death . . .231
151. The Banquet . . 396
*K>7. Dooms-day . . 2:i2
152. The Posie . . 328
158. Judgment . . 233
i:.:i. A Parodie . . 228
159. Heaven . . . 2:«
•U54. The Elixir . . 229
160. Love . .234
155. A Wreath . . 230
\* For readier reference, these Contents are also arranged alpha-
betically. The figures 1, 2, 3, On to 100 denote the number of
the f\tem required.
144. Aaron . . .218
97. Qiddinesse . . .163
137. A Dialogue-Anthem . 213
7. Good Friday . . 66
16. Affliction . . -.65
29. Qrace . . . .82
31. Affliction ... 84
94. Oratelulnesse . . 159
46. Affliction ... 98
130. Grief .... 206
63. Affliction . . .119
105. Grieve not the Holy
71. Affliction . . .127
Spirit, Ac. . . 173
60. Anagram . . . 103
159. Heaven ... 234
116. An Offering . . 187
12. Holy Baptisme . . 63
21. Antiphon ... 74
13. Holy Baptisme . . 6:i
65. Antiphon ' . . .122
20. Holy Communion . 72
PS AParodie.. . . 228
80. Home ... 138
108. Artillerie .• . . 178
91. Hope . . . .157
122. Assurance'. . . 196
43. Humilitie ... 94
135. A True Hymhe . .211
85. Jesu . . . 145
49. Avarice . . .103
25. Jordan . . . 78
•> Wreath ... 230
75. Jordan . . . 133
140. Bitter-Sweet . . 215
126. Joseph's Coat . . 2<>l
80. Businesse . . .145
168. Judgment . . . 2:tf
70. Charms and Knots . 126
69. Justice . . . lr .
64. Christmas . . .107
110. Justice . . .180
87. Church Lock and Key 89
60. Lent . . . .114
85. Church Monuments . 68
67. Life . . . .121
36. Church Mustek . . 89
117. Longing . . .189
109. Church - Rents or
22. Love .... 74
8chismes . ' . 179
liiO Love .... 2.H4
KM. Clasping of Hands . 198
ll::. Complaining . . 183
89 Love-joy . . .1.0
99. Love unknown . . 166
96. Confession . . .162
64. Man .... 120
78. Conscience.' . . 136
100. Man's Medley . . Irt8
46. Constaiicie . . . 97
14.3. Marie Mug.lalene . 217
11. Content ' . . .92
32. Mattens ... bo
166. Death ... 231
74. Miserie . . 130
73. Decay . . .129
72. Mori iticat ion . . 128
63. Denial! . .106
14. Nature . . . «4
87. Dialogue '. . . 147
77. Obedience ... 135
IIS*. DiM-ipliiie . . . L'L'.'t
58. Our Life is Hid with
Id. Divinitie . . .172
Christ in God . 113
'.Kims-day . . 2;<2
102. Paradise . . .170
'••tage . . . L'lo
. 95. Peace . . 160
88. Dulnesse ... 148
30. Praise
lo. Kaster ... 69
11.".. Praise . . . !-•;
11. Easter Wings . . 62
125. Praise . . 199
2rt. Employment . . 79
19. Prayer ... 72
i.inplnyment . . !<>•">
76. Prayer . . . Ku
34. Even-Song . . 87
90. Providence
18. Faith ... 70
8. Redemption . . '.8
44. Frailtie ... 96
17. Repentance . . 08
IV
CONTENTS.
PAGE
PAO«
139. Self Condemnation . 214
119. The Jews . . 19
9. Sepulchre . ... 58
103. The Method . . 17
56. Sighs and Qrones . 110
145. The Odour . . 21
15. Sinne . . . .65
62. The Pearl . .11
33. Sinne. ... 86
111. The Pilgrimage . . 18
92. Sinne's Round. . . 157
152. The Posie . . .221
79. Sion . . . .137
128. The Priesthood . . 202
68. Submission - , . 121
127. The Pulley . . 30
48. Sunday . . .101
42. The Quidditie . . 0
III. Superliminafe . . 40
82. The Quip . . . 14J
63. Tentation (=Afflic-
4. The Reprisall . . 5
tion) . . .110
148. The Rose ... 22
5. TheAgonie . . .55
2. The Sacrifice . . 4
1. The Altar ... 41
129. The Search . . 20
136. The Answer • . . 212
6. The Sinner . . ot
118. The Bag . . .192
107. The Size . . .176
151. The Banquet" ... 226
134. The Sonne. . .211
81. The British Church . 141
47. The Starre . . 9J
98. The Bunch of Grapes 164
101. The Storm . . 1»55
123. The Call . " . .198
23. The Temper . . 76
38. The Church Floore . 90
24. The Temper . . T
II. The Church Porch . 9
3. The Thanksgiving . 5
120. The Collar . . 194
142. The 23rd Psalm . 211
131. The Crosse . . 207
138. The Water-course . 21
84. The Dawning . . 144
I. The Dedication . . 9
39. The Windows . . 9
57. The World . .11
114. The Discharge . . 184
93. Time . . . .151
1.V1. The Elixir . . 229
51. To all Angels and
106. The Familie . . 175
Saints . .10
132. The Flower . . 208
40. Trinitie Sunday . 9
146. The Foil . . .220
65. Ungratefulnesse . 10
147. The Forerunners . 221
66. Unkindnesse . . 12;
111. The Glance . . 215
59. Vanitie . . .11:
121. The Glimpse . . 195
83. Vanitie . . . 14!
112. The Holdfast . . 182
61. Vertne . . .IK
27. The Holy Scriptures . 80
28. Whitsunday . . 81
150. The Invitation . . 224
III. THE CHURCH MILITANT 23
IV. LILIES OF THE TEMPLE: from unpublished
MSS pp. 254-26
*J i. The Holy Commu-
*T IV Enen Song . . '2-
nion . . . 255
'! v. The Knell . . 2:
*J ii. Love . . . 257
*J VI. Perseverance . . 2t)
•Jin. Trinity Sunday . 258
vii. The Convert . . 2'
V. PSALMS : hitherto uncollected and inedited . 26
VI. SECULAR POEMS : with additions from MSS.
pp. 275-28
I. Sonnets. Sent by George Herbert to his Mother as a
New-year's gift from Can
II. Inscription in the Parsoni
abridge .... 277
ige, Bemerton : To my suc-
078
CONTENTS.
in. On Lord Dauvers 2~V
I IV. On Sir John Uanvers 279
V. A Paradox. That the sick are in a better case, Ac. . I'-"
J vi. G. H. To ye Queene of Bohemia 282
J VIL PARENTALIA ' . . . '' . . . 285
j VIII. ANTI-TAMI-CAMI-C.ATEGOBIA et Georgii
Hcrberti, Angli Musae Responsoriae,
ad Andreae Melvini, Scoti, Anti-Tami-
Cami-Categoriam ... pp. 299-310
Pro Snppliri Erangelicorvm Ministrorvm in Anglia, &c., sive
Anti-Tami-Cami-Categoria 303
PEG DlSCIPLINA ECCLESIAE NOSTBAB EPIGBAM-
MATA APOLOGETICA .... pp. 310-334
I. To King James 1 810
II. To Charles, Prince of Wales 311
in. To Bishop Andrewes 311
IV. To the King: Two Epigrams 312
v. To Melville 312
vi. On the Monster of a Word " Anti-Tami-Cami-Cate-
goria" 313
I vn. The Division of Anti-Tami-Cami-Categoria . . 313
Tin. On the kind of Metre of Anti-Tami-Cami-Categoria . 314
IX. Concerning the Masked Gorgon .... 314
x. Concerning the Pride Of Prelates . . . .315
XI. Concerning the Twin Universities .... 315
xu. Concerning the Rite of Holy Baptism . . . :'•!•'•
xin. Concerning the Sign of the Cross .... 316
xiv. Concerning the Church's Oath 317
xv. On Purification (—Churching) after Childbirth . 317
xvi. Concerning the Pontifical Beauty (—decency) of Anti-
Christ 318
XVH. Concerning the Surplice 318
xviu. Concerning the square College-cap .... 319
xix. To a Puritan 320
XX. Concerning Bishops 320
xxi. Concerning the same : to Melville .... 321
xxn. Concerning a Puritan Weaver 321
XXIII. Concerning Magical Circles 321
XXIV. On the Brethren 322
xxv. On Spots and Blemishes 322
xxvi. Concerning Sacred Music : •_•:!
XXVii. Concerning the same 324
xxvin. Concerning the Use of Ceremonies .... 325
xxix. Concerning the Wedding-ring 325
I XXX. Concerning Puritan* and Worldlings . . . 326
1 The whole of the Latin and Greek poems and " Anti-Tami-Cami-
Categoria" and "Pro Disciplina Ecclesiae Nostrae Epigrammala
Apologetica " and " Alia Poemata Latina " and " Passio Discerpta "
and " Lucus" were, for the first time, translated into English in the
Fnller Worthies' Library edition of the complete works in verse ami
prose of Herbert.— G.
TO
PROFESSOR HENRY MORLEY
I DEDICATE
THIS EDITION OF A POET HE LOVES ;
AS AN EXPRESSION OF LITERARY FELLOWSHIP
AND DEEPENING FRIENDSHIP IN
KINDRED WORK.
ALEXANDER B. GROSART.
PREFACE.
ROM Nicholas Ferrar and Barnabas
Oley and Izaak Walton earlier, to
William Pickering, James Yeowell,
William Jerdan, Robert Aria Will-
mott, and C. Cowden Clarke more
recently, many loving and capable editors have
spent time and pains (in the old sense) on the
Works of the " divine Herbert " — epithet irrever-
sible as "judicious " for Richard Hooker, " holy"
for Richard Baxter. I wish, therefore, right cor-
dially to acknowledge the labours of my prede-
cessors on this Worthy. It were to belie my
innermost feeling, not to express my sense of
obligation. Nevertheless, it may be permitted
me to point out certain things whereby the pre-
sent edition claims to be in advance of others.
I. For the firat time the text throughout is re-
produced in integrity of wording and ortho-
graphy. Collation and re-collation of the original
and early editions revealed manifold, in some
cases flagrant and ignorant, departures from
both, and important errors in even the most care-
ful, while the punctuation has been chaos (e. g.
Pickering's, 1835, 1838, and onward : Bell and
Daldy's = Yeowell, 1865 : Wilmott : Jerdau •
xii PREFACE.
M
Clarke). The more noticeable are pointed out j
in their places in the Notes and Illustrations,
and others will be recognized by the critical stu- |
dent. The text of Herbert has suffered more
than most from successive misprints, and small I
but in the aggregate destructive changes and
" improvements " by successive editors. As Mr. <
Christie, in his Dryden, well observes : " The I
importance of corrections of this sort will not be I
judged by the smallness of the change for the j
worse introduced by carelessness or design "(Pref. I
p. xii.). A few out of many examples may in-
terest here, although their full importance can I
only be arrived at by an examination of them in j
their text and context. Taking Pickering's ex-
quisite edition typographically of 1835, and others
later, the following are noticeable ; Yeowell's, as
really careful, is also in some instances chosen :
1. The Printers to the Reader : " No man can!
more ambitiously seek than he did earnestly
endeavour the resignation of an ecclesiastical
dignitie, which he was possessoivr of ; " misprinted
"professor.-" Bell and Daldy (=. Yeowell, 1-v,:,.
&c.) Willmott and Clarke have strangely
omitted the whole of this admirable epistle,
written by Nicholas Ferrar.
2. Ibid. "And these are but 'a few:" ''a"!
dropped out.
3. The Church Porch, st. vi. 1. 5, " devest : "I
mis-spelled " divest ; " see note in loco. £50 in
83. Vanitie, 1. 15 ; and Yeowell, &c.
4. Ibid. st. xiii. 1. 3, " Cowards tell her : " Will- 1
mott misprints " tells."
5. Ibid. st. xxiv. 1. 5, "Loose not thyself:"!
Pickering, Yeowell, and all, misprint " Lose," to
the losing of the sense ; see note in loco.
6. Ibid. st. xxx. 1. 5, " makes his doth too
PREFACE. Xin
wide : " Pickering, Yeowell, and all, misprint
•« clothes."
7. Ibid. st. Ixx. 1. 2, " send them to thine
heart:" ibid, "thy," an abounding "improve-
ment" in all.
8. Ibid. st. Ixxi. 1. 6, "are either :" " improved"
to " either are " in all.
9. 2. The Sacrifice, 1. 110, " used and wished : "
misprinted by all " wish'd," which spoils the
line.
10. Ibid. 1. 234, " Yet by my subjects am con-
demn'd to die :" misprinted "Pm" by Yeowell
and Clarke also.
11. 3. The Thanksgiving, 1. 34, "But mend
mine own : " misprinted " my ;" a frequent " im-
provement," ibid.
12. Ibid, line 41, " that all together may ac-
cord : " misprinted " altogether," which makes
nonsense ; so Yeowell.
13. 6. The Sinner, 1. 12, " thine : " again
" thy," and so frequently " e'en " for " ev'ii."
14. 10. Easter, The Song, line 1, " gtraw Thy
way : " misprinted " strew ; " so Yeowell and
Clarke.
15. 12. Holy Baptisme, 1. 5, " spring and rent .-"
misprinted " vent ; " so Yeowell.
16. 16. Affliction, 1. 21, "straw'd:" misprinted
" strew'd ; " so Clarke and Yeowell.
17. Ibid. 1. 25, " begun :" misprinted "began;"
see note in loco, ibid.
18. Ibid. 1. 26, "cleave: " misprinted "clave;"
wrong, as the present tense follows ; so Yeowell.
19. 17. Repentance, 1. 3, " momentanie : " mis-
printed " momentarie ; " see note in loco ; so Yeo-
well and Clarke.
20. 18. Faith, 1. 26, " gained :" misprinted
" gain'd," which spoils the line ; so Yeowell.
xiv PREFACE.
21. 22. Love, 1. 24, "Thy goods:" Willmott
misprints "gods."
22. 33. Sinne, 1. 10, " sinnes in perspective : "
misprinted " prospective ; " so Yeowell, Willmott,
Clarke, &c.
23. 35. Chiirch-Honuments, 1. 7, " this school : "
misprinted or " improved" to " the ;" which weak- I
uns the sense.
24. 45. Constancie, 1. 22, " tentations : " mis- 1
spelled " temptations; " so Teowell and Clarke.
25. 48. Sunday, 1. 11, " worky-days : " mis- I
printed " working-days " by Clarke, &c.
26. 49. Avarice, 1. 7, " wert : " misprinted I
" wast ; " so Yeowell and Clarke.
27. 52. Employment, 1. 25, "dressed:" mis-
printed " dresseth," ibid.
28. 53. Deniall, 1. 8, " pleasures : " misprinted
" pleasure."
29. 57. The World, 1. 14, " sommers," Fr. som- -
tnior ~ beams: misprinted " summers ;" so Yeo-
well and Clarke.
30. 90. Providence, 1. 136, "non-sense:" mis-
printed and makes "nonsense," ibid.
31. Ibid. 1.146, "advise.-" misprinted "ad-
vice," ibid.
32. 97. Giddiness, 1. 15, " it's : " misprinted
" 'tis," ibid.
33. 105. Eph. iv. 30, 11. 4, 5, " grieved, griev'd: "
misprinted both "grieved," although the metre
requires " griev'd" in 1. 5, ibid.
34. 106. The Familie, 1. 10, " plaies," qy. =
'• plies : " misprinted " plays," ibid.
35. 111. The Pilgrimage, 1. 14, " wold : " mis-
printed "world," which is neither sense nor rhyme ;
see note in loco.
36. 129. The Search, 1. 21, " I tun'd : " mis-
printed absurdly "turn'd;" BO Yeowell and
Clarke.
PREFACE. XV
37. On Lord Danvert, p. 279, 1. 6, " the : " mis-
printed " thy," ibid.
38. The Church Militant, p. 243, 1. 55, " Christ-
Crosse : " misprinted " Christ's-Cross ; " see note
»n loco, ibid.
The Greek and Latin have been hitherto most
slovenly given ; perhaps ours will be found accu-
rate, as well in the previously published as in the
new from MSS.1
These are a mere handful, put down currente
ctdamo as I send away the proof-sheets collated
with my revised text. In Notes and Illustra-
tions there are others fully and critically dis-
cussed.2 The whole of these errors and corrup-
tions have been anxiously rectified and purified in
this edition. In so doing I have had constantly
before me all the editions of the Verse from the
first, 1632-3, to the thirteenth, 1709, as well as
after ones until now. Throughout, our text is
faithful to the author's own wording, orthography,
&c. Two slight departures ought perhaps to be
named, viz., from the profuse italics and capitals,
which belong to the printers, not to Herbert (as
proved by his MSS.) ; and that where the "ed"
might be mis-read, we have elided, as " per
1 The Prose of Herbert would furnish an equally long list of mis-
prints and improvements. I limit myself now to the Jaculn ttrttden-
tum, and I take Yeowell's text (Bell aud Daldy, 1865), with this re-
sult on collation of the 1640 and 1651 editions, apart from imsspel
liugs : " shoulders" for " shoulder," " drowning for "a-dr wning, '
"comes" for "come," "heavens" for "havens," "deaths" for
"dearths," "weight" for "weigh," "payer" for "prayer, "loved"'
for "beloved," "light" for "night, "brambles" for ' brablea,'
"month" for" mouth," &c. All put right in Fuller Worthies'Library
edition of the Prose.
1 It is remarkable how self-evident misprints escape even ke
eyes e.g. how strange that in 64, " Man, line 8, it should ha
been left for me to discover the long-continued error of " no" fo
"mo" = m^re. l»i32-3 originated the blunder; the Williams MS.
enabled me authoritatively to correct it. Bo in the Paradox, line 39,
" plaint our case," from Dr.Bliss onwards, the MS. contraction " or"
= our has been misprinted " or," which make* nonsense. Errors
of this type abound.
xvi PREFACE.
plex'd," not "perplexed." Finally, the chaotic!
and wrong punctuation has been reduced to some M
order, it is hoped.
II. For the first time are recorded in the Notes I
and Illustrations the many various readings (")
from MSS., (b) original and early editions ; most
of the rarest literary and biographic value.
III. For the first time there is furnished any- I
thing like a critical and exegetical commentary,
in Notes and Illustrations, on all calling for elu-
cidation. Herbert's reading was as odd and
discursive as ever was Eobert Burton's, and its |
application as allusive and unexpected as Thomas
Fuller's ; and there are subtleties and obscurities
— shadows broaden by the measure of light from
whence they are objected— of thinking and con-
struction and wording, as well as quaint notices
of now-forgotten manners, customs, and usages,
that claim record and explanation. Hitherto all,
or nearly all, have been left as though readers
were still contemporaries. A more meagre and
inadequate, not to say discreditable, annotation
than that thus far bestowed on Herbert is scarcely
predicable of any other classic. I may be excused
stating that I have not spared myself or willing
fellow-workers any toil of search and research,
or prolonged and deliberate study, in order wor-
thily to furnish this body of Notes and Illustra-
tions. No real difficulty has been consciously
shirked ; and I venture to hope that readers will
not consult these Notes without obtaining help in
their understanding (or misunderstanding) of
the text.
IV. For the first time relatively large additions
are given, from (a) MSS., (b) overlooked books
(e. g.) six English sacred poems, and nearly the
whole of Passio Discerpta and LUCIAS, from the
PREFACE. Xvii
Williams MS., the " Psalms," from Playford, aud
other single poems.
V. For the first time, in the Memorial-Intro-
duction, various new outward facts will be found
— e. g. his ancestry ; his education, dates and cir-
cumstances ; his supposed "deaconship" shown
to have been a mistake; his "sinecure office"
once held by Sir Philip Sidney ; his " marriage
entry," &c. ; his will, and other points ; also the
MS. notes of Archbishop Leighton (such as they
are), from his copy of Herbert's " Temple," —
long amissing and hitherto eagerly as fruitlessly
sought for. But it must be stated that by the
limitations of this single volume the Memorial-
Introduction has been everywhere compressed.
The student wishful to know more must consult
the fuller Memoir in vol. i. ; the Essay on Life
and Writings in vol. ii., and the annotated Life
by Walton in vol. iii., of the Fuller Worthies'
Library edition (3 vols.), along with Christopher
Harvey's complete Poems in vol. iv.
VI. For the first time (i. e. published) the ori-
ginal portrait of Herbert, as first given in the
edition of The Temple of 1674, is reproduced
faithfully; that is, without touching up or ideali-
sation. Taken probably from a crayon drawing
ad vivum by B. White, — an engraver who ranks
with Faithorne, Vertue, Vaughan, Gaywood, and
Marshall, — the history of this portrait is but im-
perfectly known ; but as it is the admitted source
of all the subsequent engravings, it is easy for
any one to decide between it and the others.
From Sturt (1703) onward to Jordan's and Will-
mott's (Routledge and Tegg) and Pickering's, of
1835, 1844, &c., and Bell and Daldy's (Yeowell'p),
there has been a gradual obliteration of the lines
and look of the " o'er-iiiform'd" face. Of the wood-
PREFACE.
engravings nothing need be said, save that they
are5 no more Herbert than the publisher s. 0
Pickering's, the steel engraving of 1835 is the
best ; retouched for 1844 and later, to the worse
Major's, in Walton's "Lives" (1825), by Warren
like Pickering's, is a good bit of work as work,
but is even more untrue than Pickering's ; so
too the engraving by Engleheart in Willmott'
"Lives of the Sacred Poets "
My opinion is that the 1674 engraving as com
pared with that of 1670 in Walton's Life, give
us George Herbert when somewhat wasted b
his disease ; and hence any portrait that does not
preserve the angularities of the original gives a
wrong impression of the man. In the Pickering
and Major engravings there seems to me also
too much of an attempt to express his intellect
and intellectual bright-eyedness in his face, which
results in the diminishing of other characteristics.
To me, comparing it with 1674, the forehead is
too perpendicular and too regular. The arches
of the eyelids (though this is hardly so visible in
the 1835 plate) are made too much arcs of a
circle of the same level, whereas in the 1674 there
is a slight up-turning of the outer part of each ; |
and from this or some other cause, and from the
greater compression of the upper lip in the Pick-
ering, we lose the expression of gentle humour
which is apparent in the 1674, and which, as it
existed in Herbert, goes to prove that this last
was a more faithful and artistic copy than from
its somewhat coarse style might be imagined.
In the Pickering also the nose is not curved but
hooked, more Caesarine or Wellingtonian, and it
wants that indication of Herbert's emotional
temper which his brother, Lord Cherbury, desig-
nated by " choler " — the more marked nostril.
PREFACE. XIX
To conclude, in this old portrait of 1674 I seem
to see thonghtfulness mingled with quiet " wit,"
and a gentleness and mildness that would not
give a harsh answer or a harsh reproof; but
with deep conflict-born lines, and indications of
a quick, somewhat impulsive, and (using the
word in its fuller and older sense) passionate
mind. Every true and reverent lover of George
Herbert must agree with me in returning upon
this self-authenticating engraving of 1674; all
the more that, for the reasons given, it is in every
way superior to the later " improvements " upon
it. It is just that worn, wistful, ascetic, un-
earthly face of the Herbert we love, not untouched
of awe, " so awful is goodness." I would note
the glowing dark eyes, the small sensitive mouth,
— liker a woman's than a man's, — the long Shake-
spearean upper lip, slightly moustached, the thin
tremulous-uostrilled nose, the wasting cheeks.
In the touched-up modern engravings the nose
and chin especially are false to character. In
the 1674 edition also appeared for the first time
these lines, which " should have been under bis
picture " : —
" Behold an orator, divinely sage.
The prophet and apostle of that Age :
View bat his Porch and Temple, yon shall see
The body of divine philosophy.
Examine well the lines of his dead face,
Therein you may discern wisdom and grace.
Now if the shell so lovely doth appear.
How orient was the pearl imprison'd here ! "
" He was," says Walton, " of a stature inclining
towards leanness ; his body was very straight,
and so far from being cumbered with too much
flesh, that he was lean to an extremity. His
aspect was cheerful, and his speech an^d motion
did both declare him a gentleman ; for they were
all so meek and obliging, that they purchased
xx PREFACE.
love and respect from all that knew him."
Aubrey states that " he was of a very fine com-
plexion."
Other features of this edition will be discovered
by the observant reader. I indulge the hope
that my labours on this Worthy will bring re-
newed attention equally to the holy and beautiful
life and the unique writings. Whoever turns to
either will find himself in fellowship with a
" lovely spirit " of a grand age ;
" When the world, travelling an uneven way,
Kiu'oiinter'd jrreater truths in every lot,
Ami individual minds hod power to force
Ail epoch, aud divert its vassal course." '
It is now a very pleasant duty to offer my
sincere thanks to various reverers of George
Herbert for services rendered in the most spon-
taneous and kind way. I would thank my novrr-
failing, richly-stored friend, Dr. Brinsley Nichol-
son, who, as in others of the Fuller Worthies'
Library, has responded to my many calls upon
his very remarkable reading and insight with a
generous willinghood that I find it difficult to
acknowledge sufficiently. Throughout I am in-
debted to him in all manner of ways. To B. H.
Beedham, Esq., Ashfield House, Kimbolton : to
Samuel E. Gardiner, Esq., London ; to Eev.
Thomas Ladds, M.A., Leighton Bromswold ; to
Rev. W. P. Pigott, M.A., Bemerton ; to W.
Aldis Wright, Esq., M.A., Trinity College, and
Professor Mayor, Cambridge ; to G. H. White,
Esq., and Colonel Chester, London ; to David
Laing, Esq., LL.D., Edinburgh ; to E. E. Morris,
Esq., Homestay, Newtown ; to Dr. Morris Jones,
Liverpool ; to Eev. Eichard Wilton, M.A.,
Londesbdrough Eectory, Market Weighton, and
1 Poems ofF. W. Faber. D.D. (1857), p. 518.
PREFACE. XXI
numerous voluntary Correspondents, I wish to
express a seuse of loving and grateful obligation
for communication of facts and documents, veri-
fication of references, local notes, and other aids
most agreeably rendered. At the British Museum
and Williams Libraries, and the Bodleian, Ox-
ford, as invariably, I met with every facility and
unreserve of available help. For the instant
and confiding use of all the Herbert MSS. in the
Williams Library I must specially record my
gratitude. A more genial, self-forgetting book-
lover than the Williams Library-keeper (Rev.
Thomas Hunter) I could not conceive.
Anything else needing to be said will be found
elsewhere. And now I offer my Herbert as an
honest piece of somewhat hard work ; fitted
perhaps to draw more and still more hearts to a
genuine singer and thinker, to know and love
whom deeper and nearer can only bring profit.
" And as the waxing moon can take
The tidal waters in her wake,
And lead them round and round, to break
Obedient to her drawings dim ;
So may the movements of His mind,
The first Great Father of mankind,
Affect with answering movements blind,
And draw the goals that breathe by Him." '
ALEXAIO>ER B. GROSART
PARK VIEW, BLACKBURN, LANCASHIRE.
Misting Letter from George Herbert to Bishop
Latv-elot Andrewet.
It is very much to be wished that the letter
thus mentioned by Walton were recovered from
its hiding-place : " For the learned Bishop, it is
observable, that at that time there fell to be a
1 Poems by Jean Ingelow (1864), J\ 55.
xxii PREFACE.
modest debate betwixt them two about predes-
tination, and sanctity of life ; of both which the
orator did, not long after, send the bishop some
safe and useful aphorisms, in a long letter,
written in Greek ; which letter was so remarkable
for the language and reason of it, that, after the
reading it, the bishop put it iuto his bosom, and
did often show it to many scholars, both of this
and foreign nations ; but did always return it
back to the place where he first lodged it, and
continued it so near his heart till the last day of
his life." I must indulge the " pleasures of
hope " that such a letter has not perished ; and I
invite readers to keep a vigilant outlook for it.
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
I. BIOGRAPHICAL. II. CRITICAL.
F the head of the House of Spenser,
in his generation, was wisely advised
by no less than Gibbon, to regard the
name of Edmund Spenser in the roll
of an illustrious ancestry as " the
richest jewel of his coronet ; " and if to-day one is
glad to find an Earl Spencer eager to accept the
(possible) lineage, and covetous to spell with au
'• s " rather than a " c," — equally is it the " gloir "
of the families of Powis and Pembroke to be able —
and perhaps more certainly — to inscribe in their
descents the name of George Herbert.
The late lamented Sidney Herbert, Lord
Herbert of Lea, father of the present Earl of
Pembroke and Montgomery, showed his sense of
the honour by public speech and many a beau-
tiful letter when he sought to enlist friends,
far and near — and splendidly succeeded — in the
erection of a' church at Bemerton, in memorial of
George Herbert, — his boast of being a Sidney
melting into a yearning and wistful gratitude
that he was also a Herbert of the George Herbert
stock ; while the present scholarly Earl Powis
has given various proofs of his sympathetic esti-
xxiv M I.MORIAL-1NTRODUGT10N.
mate of the Bame kinship. Our genealogical re-
searches have revealed to us others high-placed
and noticeable intrinsically, who claim the
" blood " of George Herbert, and hold it as an in-
estimable possession.
Turning to the elaborate " Ten Tables " of
Pedigrees of the " noble family of Herbert" pre-
fixed by Earl Powis to his private edition of Lord
Herbert of Cherbury's " Expedition to the Isle of
Rhe " (contributed to the Philobiblon Society,
1860, 4to), the first begins with Charlemagne
and Hildegardis, daughter of Childebrand, Duke
of Swabia; passes to Pipin and Bernard, kings
of Italy (A.D. 810, 818), to Herberts Counts de
Vcrmaudois ; and ends in Sir William Herbert,
who is called William ap Thomas, of Ragland
Castle (in Welsh, Margoah Gles or Gumrhi).
The second table is as follows : —
Sir RICHARD HERBERT^=GLADVS, dan. and heir, of Sir David
(as supra) \ Gamm, Kt., aad widow of Sir Roger
| Vaughan, Kt.
Sir RICHARD HERBERT,— MAHOARET, dan. of Thomas ap Griffith ap
second son. I Nicholas, and sister of Sir Kice Thomas,
| K.O.
Sir RICHARD HERBERT,=^=Airr»,dan. of SirDavid ap Enion ap Llewel-
Kt., second sou, seated i lin Vaughan, Kt.
at Montgomery.
l 1
EDWARD HERBERT, ^ELIZABETH, dan. of Mathew Price, of New-
first sou. | ton, com. Montgomery,
i 1
RICHARD HERBERT,
. — MAODALEN, dau. of Sir Richard Newport,
first son, seated at of High Krcall, conn. Salop, Knt , dyed
Montgomery Castle, 1627
dyed 1597.
The last pair were the father and mother of
George Herbert, he having been their fifth son ;
their first, the afterwards variously-renowned
Edward, Baron Herbert of Cherbury.1
1 Lord Powis's volume, as before, pp. v -rvi. As only 40 copies
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. XXV
Looking at similar pedigrees of the mother,
they prove equally remarkable. She was the
youngest daughter of Sir Richard Newport, the
largest landed proprietor of his time in the
county of Salop, and descended, through the
eldest daughter of Sir John Burgh, from the
reigning princes of Powys-land. Her mother
was Margaret Bromley, daughter and heiress of
Sir Thomas Bromley, a member of the Privy
Council, and an executor of the will of King
Henry VIII.1
Of Richard Herbert we have proud words by
his eldest-born in the famous autobiography,
mainly recounting deeds of daring and single-
mindedness ; and from Barnabas Oley and Izaak
Walton. " My father," observes his son, " I
remember to have been black-haired and bearded,
as all my ancestors of his side are said to have
been; of a manly or somewhat stern look, but
withal very handsome and well compact in his
limbs, and of a great courage." 2 He won an
abiding repute for stout-heartedness, lavish hos-
pitality, and kindness to the humblest. He
sleeps well" and royally beneath a prominent
altar-tomb in the Lymore-estate chancel of Mont-
gomery Church.
Of Magdalen Newport more will fall to be said
hereafter: now, suffice it to recall that Donne
addressed to her a sonnet "Of S. Mary Mag-
dalen," playing on her Christian name, full of
fine praise, and in her comparative old age corn-
were printed, it is almost equal to MS. The after Tables, iii. to x.
are full of interest, though they are not without mistakes. " Herbert-
iaua : Montgomeryshire Collections," vol. vi. p. 410; vol. iii. p. 365 ;
" Bnrke's Landed Gentry," vol. i. p. 60o, " Hughes of Gnerches."
1 For Newport and Bromley epitaphs see Fuller Worthies' Library
edition of Herbert, as before (vol. i. pp. xxvii., xxviii.V
1 " The Life of Edward Lord Herbert of Cherbury, reprint of Sir
Walter Scott's edition of 1809, n. d. p. 11-12 (Moxou).
C
XXvi MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
posed his " Autumnal Beauty " in her honour, |
and sings " Affecyon here takes Eevereuce's I
name ; " ' and when she died preached one of his
greatest sermons at her funeral ; while in his
" Parentalia" George Herbert never wearies in
uttering his love, veneration, and gratitude, —
one of tho pieces (No. ii.) being second only to
Cowper's " On receiving his Mother's Picture."
One should scarcely have minded to recount
even thus much of " endless genealogies," if only
titularly great names had formed the Herbert
lineage. As it is, the most cursory glance over
Lord Powis's Ten Tables and the usual genea*
logies, will satisfy that the Herberts can hold
their own against the bluest blood of England
and France and Germany, and will verify Oley'e
eulogy that " Mr. George Herbert was extracted
out of a generous [= generosus], noble, aiu
ancient family ; " 2 nor abate from Walton's, that
he was of " a family that hath been blessed witl
men of remarkable wisdom, and a willingness
serve their country, and, indeed, to do good to |
all mankind ; for which they are eminent." *
From century to century Herberts are found
taking their places in some of the noblest anc
whitest pages of our national history ; and so it
remains " unto this day." Nor were it hard to
establish that his descent counted for a good deal
to George Herbert, and furnishes elements of
character that alone solve problems of his life and
writings — none the less that, as an old snatch of
Welsh song celebrates, it was a " miller's daugh-
ter " who brought Montgomery Castle and other
1 Onr edition of " Donne's Poems," vol. i. pp. 187-190, for the " An-
tnmnal Beauty;" vol. ii. pp. 274-5, for the Sonnet.
' " Prefatory View of the Life and Virtm-s of the Author," pre-
fixed by Barnabas Oley to the Country Parson (16o2).
» Life, 1670-1.
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. xxvil
broad lands into the family. This is worth notice,
perhaps, inasmuch as John Aubrey has preserved
the lines in Welsh and English.1 We can only
•find room for the latter : —
" O God I woe is me miserable, ray father was a miller.
And my mother a millerease, and I am now a ladie."
One likes to indulge the " Pleasures of Imagina-
tion " that she might have sat for our Laureate's
•' Miller's Daughter," the fair shy Alice ; and it
may be, the nineteenth-century love-story gives
as a key to the earlier in fact and feeling alike,
as thus : —
" slowly was my mother brought
To yield consent to my desire :
She wish'd me happy, but sAe thought
1 might Aore look'd a little higher :
And I was young — too young to wed :
' Yet must I love her for your sake ;
Go, fetch your Alice here,' she said :
Her eyelid quiver'd as she spake.
And down I went to fetch my bride :
Bat, Alice, yon were ill at ease ;
This dress and that by turns yon tried.
Too fearful that yon should not please.
I loved you better for your fears,
I knew yon could not look but well ;
And dews, that wonld have fall'n in tears,
I kiss'd away before they fell.
I watch'd the little fluttering,
The doubt my mother would not see ;
She spoke at large of many things,
And at the last she spoke of me ;
And turning look'd npon your face,
As near this door you sat apart.
And rose, and with a silent grace
Approaching, press' d yon heart to heart."*
1 Letters, as before, TO!, ii. pp. 390-1. The account is as follows :
" In Brecknockshire, about three miles from Brecknock, is a village
called Penkelly (Anglice, Haselwood), where is a little castle. It i<t
an ancient seat of the Herberts. Mr. Herbert of this place came
by the mother's side, a Wgan [Vaughan ?]. The Lord Cherbnry's
ancestor came by the second venter, who was a miller's daughter.
The greatest part of the estate was settled on the issue by the second
* ruter, via. Montgomery Castle and Aberystwith. Upon the match
with the miller's daughter are to this day recited or sung by the
Welsh these verses (as above)."
1 " The Miller's Daughter ;" in all the editions. En passant, not
the least of Tennyson's services as a public teacher as well as the
supreme poet-artist of our age, is his inflexible assertion of the no-
xxviii MEMORIAL-IN'TRODUCTION.
The inscriptions of the monument to the father
and mother of Herbert do not record those
honours of Richard Herbert -which find comme-
moration in the "Autobiography," e.g. Custos
Eotulorum, Deputy-Lieutenant and Justice of the
Peace for the county, and Governor of the
Fortress of Montgomery ; — but do tell that the I
" monument was made at the cost of Magdalen I
his wife " — a notable thing, seeing her own I
" effigie " beside her deceased lord, forms part of 1
it, while Latin hendecasyllabics must have been I
prepared in the expectation that she too was to be I
laid there. These lines merit a passing minute's 1
heed : —
••IN SEPULCHBUM RICH ARDI HERBERTI, ARMIGERI, ET MAGDALEN AE I
rxouis BJCS ; HEXDECASYLLABA.
Qaid virtus, pietas, amorve recti,
Tune cum vita fugit, juvare possuut
In coelo relevent perenne nomen
hility of worth and of good kind hearts as over against " bluest
blood." The sorrow is that at this time o" day any should forget that
the humblest ichor is as really of God as is the " bluest." One •
pained to find in unlooked-for places acceptance of the old folly ot
(so-called) mesalliance independent of character, and the converse;
e.g. even Dr. John Hannah, in his excellent edition of the poems
and Psalms of Bishop Henry King (1843), thus annotates in loco:
" Robert Rich was married to Frances, fourth and youngest daughter
of Oliver Cromwell ; but this degradation of a noble family WH- not
of long continuance, for Rich died on the 16th of the following
K.-bnmry, aged 23" (p. 185). All my admiration and regard tor
Dr. Hannah cannot hinder me from protesting against such n< "
and worse : at once nuhUtoric — for the Cromwells were of blood
equal to any of the Riches — and false in its morale— seeing thut
Frances Cromwell was good and humble and noble after a very dif-
ferent type from the Riches ; while to-day where is the House that,
apart from political partisanship, would not deem it renown to d.--
si'i-nd from Oliver Cromwell rather than from Charles II. and his
polluted race ? Matthew Prior struck deeper truth than perhaps he
was aware of in an epigram-epitaph, which many in their Rank-
I'etiahUm would do well to ponder :
" Nobles and heralds, by your leave
Here lies — what once was Matthew Prior;
The sou of Adam and of Eve :
Can Bourbon or Nassau claim higher?"
Better still is Bishop Hacket's verdict : " Never was pedigree so well
set out as that of Noah : These are the generations of Noah ; Noah
was a just mau," &c. (Life by Plume, p. iii.).
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. Xiix
Hoc saxum doceat, duos recludens
Qnos uno thalamo fldeqne junrtos
Hie anus tumnlus, lapisve gignat.
Jam longum sape, Lector, et valeto,
^Eternnm venerans obiqae nomen." '
In the second section of this memorial-intro-
duction I give a critical examination of the life
and writings of our Worthy in their inward mean-
ings and significances and worth. In this I limit
myself very much to the outward facts.
George Herbert was born on the 3rd of April,
1593, in the Castle of Montgomery, Wales,2 — the
hereditary possession of his family from " the
Miller's Daughter," if Aubrey and the Welsh
verse are to be credited. That this castle was
the birthplace of our Worthy gives a new charm
to Dr. Donne's charming poem of the '• Primrose
Hill," whereon it stands. At the time (according
to Walton)3 it was " a place of state and strength,
and had been successively happy in the family
of the Herberts, who had long possessed it ; and
with it a plentiful estate, and hearts as liberal to
their poor neighbours." Even onward, when
this '• family did in the late rebellion suffer ex-
tremely in their estates, and the heirs of that
castle saw it laid level with that earth that was
too good to bury those wretches that were the
causes of it " (" meek " Izaak's ungentle words).
Anthony h Wood calls it " a pleasant and ro-
mancy place ; " 4 and Aubrey expatiates on " the
exquisite prospect four different ways8 from it.
We have sought in vain for a view of this once
1 " John Aubrey's Letters," roL ii. pp. 888-9, collated with the
monument. Translated in Fuller Worthies' Library edition, as
before (vol. i. p. xxxiii.).
1 Oley, Walton, and all the authorities ; but see our annotated
edition of the Life of Herbert by Walton, in loco (vol. iii.).
5 Life of Herbert, as before ; and so throughout, unless otherwise
•Hatted.
4 " Athens Oxon." (Bliss), ». n., Edward Lord Cherbnry.
• Letters, as before.
XXX MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
noble castle, prior to its destruction through the
stern-sad necessities and retributions of the com-
monwealth.1
The birth-year — 1593 — reminds us that his
mother's friend and his own, Donne, was at the
very time working on his toothed and memorable
Satires, as the contemporary Harleian MS. 5110
bears, " Jhon Dunne, his Satires, Anno Domini
1593 ; 2 reminds us also that in that same year
Eichard Hooker was sending forth " Book 1 ." of
the " Ecclesiastical Polity,"- and — at an opposite
pole — William Shakespeare his " Venus and
Adonis ; " while " by Mulla's shore " Edmund
Spenser was perchance musing of " Colin Clout's
come home again." 1593 is allusively notable
too for the great and fearless epistle-dedicatory
of John Napier to the King, wherein, digressing;
from the "Apocalypse" of his treatise,3 he charged
James to " reform " his court, house, family, and,
above all, " his own heart "-f very different Ian4
guage from, alas, Herbert's Jwn onward, whej
even more needed.
Preceding George there had been Edward,
Richard, William, Charles ; succeeding him came
Henry, and posthumously Thomas ; also three
1 Sir Walter Scott, in his Preface to his edition of Lor<l Chcrbury'g
Life (1809), thus with characteristic candour narrates the facts t
" When the differences between King Charles and his parliamemB
broke out. Lord Herbert joined his interest to that of the latter.
He seems previously to have made a speech in behiilt of the king,
which pave great offence to the House ; but the year after hechanged
his politics and supported the parliament, for which change he be-
came a great sufferer from the vengeance of the royalists.— Parl.
Hist. vol. xi. pp. 3, 87. He attended the army of the parliament (•
Scotland in L689, and <>Mninr</ indemnification for hiscnstle nf Mont-
gomery, which, turd ' ;• order." It \vnscoim-
nient to Walton, and since to others, to forget this " indemnification
and the facts.
3 Our edit, of Donne's Poems, vol. i. p. 3.
* "A plaine Discovery of the whole Revelation of St. John, set
downe in Two Treatises ; whereunto are annexed certuine Or
Sibylla agreeing with the Revelation and other Places of Scripture."
Edinb. (Waldegrave), 1093, 4to.
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. XXXI
daughters, Elizabeth, Margaret, and Frances.1
Their father, Richard Herbert, died in 1597, so
that in George's fourth year these "little ones"
were left fatherless, and their mother heir of the
promises of the widow's God. She accepted "in
faith " the deeply-felt responsibility thus pre-
maturely laid upon her — for her husband died
comparatively young — and gave herself up with
a fine enthusiasm of consecration to the training
and general education of her fatherless family, in
their castled home and at Oxford. She provided
a duly-qualified tutor for them — one regrets that
neither Oley nor Walton nor Lord Cherbury has
preserved his name. But the deeper teaching,
that went to the roots of their truest life, was all
her own — outcome of a passionate love and a
yearning care beautiful to think of even at this
far-off day. " Often," says Walton, " did she
bless God that they were neither defective in
their shapes nor in their reason ; and very often
reproved them that did not praise God for so
great a blessing." Until Master George was in
his twelfth year (1604-5) the education of the
entire household was mainly " at home." Visit-
ing the shattered remains, I liked to let Fancy
busy herself in calling up these remarkable boys
and girls at play within the ancestral grounds ;
and there kept ringing through memory the
subtlo-thoughted " Primrose " of Dr. Donne,
" being at Montgomery Castle, upon the hill on
which it is situate." One stanza may vivify our
narrative : —
" Upon this primrose hyll —
Where, if Heaven wo'ld distil
1 See oar Notes and Illustrations to Walton's Life of Herbert in
Fnller Worthies' Library edition, as before (vol. iii.). for notices of
theae members of the Herbert family.
xx.\ ii MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
A shower of rayne, each sererall dropp might goe
To his owue primrose, and grow mana soe,
And where their forme and their infinity
Make a terrestrial galaxy.
As the small stars doe in the sky —
I walke to fynd a true-loue, and I see
That 'tis not a meere woman that is shee,
But must or more or less than woman bee."1
About his twelfth year George was Bent to
Westminster School, which is proud to enrol his
name among her sons. We think of another
Westminster boy later — William Cowper —
eimilarly sent up to town from the country with
life-long hurt to his delicate sensitive nature.2
But our Herbert had mingled more with society,
and thus early was of robuster stuff than the
gentle recluse. Besides, it is probable, if not ab-
solutely certain, that he was with his mother and
some of his brothers in Oxford, while still very
young. This last point requires elucidation.
The dates of the " Autobiography" and of Walton
and Wood are scanty' and conflicting. Lord
Cherbury states that " his parents thought fit to
send him to Oxford " when he was " twelve years
old ; " that is, having been born in 1581, in 1593-4.
But he immediately adds : "I had not been
many months in the University but news was
brought me of my father's death, his sickness
being a lethargy, caros, or coma vigilans, which
continued long upon him : he seemed at last to
die without much pain, though in his senses.
Upon opinion given by physicians that his disease
was mortal, my mother thought fit to send for
me home ; and presently, after my father's death,
to desire her brother, Sir Francis Newport, to
haste to London to obtain my wardship for his
1 Onr edition of Donne's Poems, vol. ii. pp. 233-4.
0 Cowper uttered his sense of injury in his " Tirocinium." My
friend Mr. Howard Stauuton remembers both in hi» " Great Schools
of England" (18ti9), pp. 130-1 : the whole sectiou on Westminster
(pp. 94-132) is interesting.
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
! and her use jointly, which he obtained. Shortly
I after I was sent again to my studies in Oxford,
I where I had not been long but that an overture
I for a match with the daughter and heir of Sir
j William Herbert of St. Gilian's was made ; " and
award, " About this time I had attained the age
! of fifteen, . . . yet notwithstanding the dis-
parity of years betwixt us, upon the eight-and-
twentieth of February, 1598, in the house of Eton,
where the same man, vicar of , married my
father and mother, christened and married me, I
espoused her. Not long after my marriage I
went again to Oxford, together with my wife and
mother, who took a house, and lived for some
certain time there." ' There seem to be various
mistakes in these early recollections. For seeing
that Master Edward was sent for only a few
months after being entered at the University, the
summons when his father was on his death-bed
— viz. in 1597 — must have been another, and he
was then in his sixteenth, not his twelfth year,
and when married, in his eighteenth-nineteenth
hot his fifteenth year. The closing statement is
the most interesting in relation to George, for it
explains that it was not until 1597-8 that their
mother took up her residence in Oxford. That is
to say, when Edward (according to Wood) be-
came a gentleman commoner of University Col-
lege in 1595, " aged fourteen years," he was by
himself under tutors ; whereas on his return to
the University, after his father's death and his
own marriage in 1597-8, he was thenceforward
under his mother's eyes ; and thus George being
in his fifth year in 1598, and not removed to
Westminster till his twelfth year, in all likelihood
was of the brothers taken to Oxford.
1 Life, a» before, pp. 16, 17.
xxxiv MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
Walton, with welcome chattiness, thus informs
us on this period : " In this time of her widow- 1
hood, she being desirous to give Edward, her
eldest son, such advantages of learning and other
education as might suit his birth and fortune,
and thereby make him the more fit for the service
of his country, did, at his being of a fit age, re-
move from Montgomery Castle with him, and
some of her younger sons, to Oxford ; and having
entered Edward into Queen's College and provided I
him a fit tutor, she commended him to his care; I
yet she continued there with him, and still kept I
him in a moderate awe of herself, and so much I
under her own eye as to see and converse with I
him daily; but she managed this power over him I
without any such rigid sourness as might make I
her company a torment to her child ; but with I
such a sweetness and compliance with the re- I
creations and pleasures of youth as did incline |
him willingly to spend much of his time in the^
company of his dear and careful mother; which
was to her great content : for she would often
say, " That as our bodies take a nourishment
suitable to the meat on which we feed, so our
souls do as insensibly take in vice by the example
or conversation with wicked company ; " and
would therefore as often say, " That ignorance of
vice was the best preservation of virtue ; and
that the very knowledge of wickedness was as
tinder to inflame and kindle sin, and to keep it
burning." For these reasons she indeared him
to her own company, and continued with him in
Oxford four years ; in which time her great and
harmless wit, her cheerful gravity, and her oblig-
ing behaviour gained her an acquaintance and
friendship with most of any eminent wortli or
learning that were at that time in or near the
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. XXXV
university." Walton was evidently unaware of
Edward's marrjpge and of other circumstances ;
but the four years' continuance of the mother in
Oxford, reaching from 1598 to 1603-4 or there-
abouts, warrants us in concluding that George
shared this oversight, discipline* and affectionate
vigilance. So that it was during these years, in all
probability, his reverent-love and loving-reverence
for his mother grew up that break out in the
" melodious tears " of the " Pareutalia." Very
fine is the picture of this illustrious lady in the
second poem of the " Parentalia," already referred
to ; and it will actualize to us the whole home-
influences to turn back upon it. Here it is
made to speak English by the " sweet singer " of
" Wood-notes and Church Bells " (Rev. Kichard
Wilton, M.A., Londesborough Kectory, Market
Weighton).
" Holy Cornelias, and Sempronias grave,
And all of serious womanhood, I crave
Yonr tears ; for she, who blended what in yon
Shines good and beautiful, claims as her dne
Ymir blended sorrows. For this downfall raise
Lund weepings, Dignity, nor lose thy praise:
Stand, Modesty, with locks loose-flowing down;
Sorrow is sometimes Beauty's loftiest crown.
The glory of women has perish'd ; and men dread
Lest of each sex with her the dower has fled.
The fleeting suns she wonld not wear away
In vanity of dress and self-display,
Piling proud structures in the morning hour
Upon her head, rear'd upwards like a tow'r ;
Then spending the long day in talk and laughter—
For tongues' confusion comes tower'd Babel after ! —
But after modest braiding of her hair,
Such as becomes a matron wise and fair,
And a brief bath, her freshen'd mind she brought
To pious duties and heart-healing thought,
Addressing to the Almighty Father's throne
Such warm and earnest prayers as He will own.
Next she goes round her family, assigning
What each may need for garden, distaff, dining.
To everything its time and place are given ;
Then are call d in the tasks at early even.
By a flx'd plan her life and house go on,
By a wise daily calculation ;
Sweetness and grace through all her dwelling shine,
Of both first shining in her mind the sign.
xxxvi MEMORIAL INTRODUCTION.
Bnt if at times a great occasion rise —
With visit of SOUK; noble— she likewise
Ki-i-i, and raises uj. herself, and vies
With the occasion, and the victory gains.
O, what a shower of courteous speech she rains I
Grave pleasantry, grace mix'd with wit is heard ;
Fetters and chains she weaves with every word.
Or if scnne lin>iness for the hour should ask,
She glides through turns and windings of the task
With her replies, a match for wisest men.
Then what a mistress was she of the pen 1
What graceful writing hers ! Mark the fair shell
Wherein a kernel fairer still may dwell,
The voice and sentiment agreeing well.
Through all the world her well-known letters flit :
Charming right hand, that dust is all unlit ,
Where now thou liest ; for thy writing fine,
Pactolus' sand si.l- fitting tomb of thine.
Add mnsic, smoothing, soothing other gifts.
Which, for a moment, the rapt spirit lifts
As with a prelude of Heaven's harmony.
Then what a helper of the poor yon see
In her 1 A prop of languid folk and slow,
A roof for those who live forlorn and low,
A common balm on throbbing bosoms shed,
While public blessings hover round her head,
Rehearsing now the manner of the sky,
Anticipating her reward on high.
I droop as all her virtues I relate.
Which by my sorrows I enumerate ;
Stars are they now, my tearful griefs of late.
But thou who think'st these things not fitly done,
A mother's pniise forbidding to a son,
Away with thy false foolish modesty!
Heartless and silent then shall only I
Be found, when her fine praise rings to the sky ?
My mother's urn, is't closed only to me —
Wither'd the herbs, and dry the rosemary ?
Owe I to her a tongue only to grieve ?
Away, thou foolish one, and give me leave 1
Shame to forget while pious praise I weave.
Thou shalt be prais'd for ever, mother mine,
By me, thy sorrowing son ; for surely thine
This learning is, which I deriv'd from thee,
Which o'er the page now flows spontaneously,
Its highest fruit of labour seen to attain
In praising thee, though Folly may arraign."
With these experiences of a childhood ripening
into boyhood, passed in a sweet content with his
mother and brothers, and latterly, with inefface-
able memories of " most of any eminent worth or
learning that were at that time in or near the
University," he went — as we have seen — to Lon-
don, and was " commended to the care of Dr.
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. xxxvii
Neale, who was tken Dean of Westminster ; and
by him to the care of Mr. [Richard] Ireland, who
was then chief master of that school."
George Herbert was thus " entered" at West-
minster under every possible advantage. Of his
progress and character at school, Walton continues :
"The beauties of his pretty behaviour and wit
sinned and became so eminent and lovely in this
his innocent age, that he seemed to be marked
out for piety, and to become the care of heaven,
and of a particular good angel to guard and guide
him. And thus he continued in that school, tilt
he came to be perfect in the learned languages,
and especially in the Greek tongue, in which he
after proved an excellent critic." The " pretty
behaviour " was doubtless by the impress of his
mother, to whom — as he gratefully and graciously
sings (Parentalia, iv.) — he owed his " first and
second birth." That he was bookish and scholarly
even thus soon is testified by two things : (a)
That being in his fifteenth year a King's Scholar,
he was elected out of the school for Trinity Col-
lege, Cambridge; (6) That Andrew Melville's
Latin epigram-satire on certain ultra-ritualisms
in the King's Chapel having been circulated in
the school, he " replied " to it by way of preliba-
tioii to his after-answers in Epigrams-Apologetical
to his " Anti-Tami-Cami-Categoria " — the latter
fact arguing no little self-esteem and self-posses-
sion even to grotesqueness, seeing that the vene-
rable scholar against whom this stripling David
came forth was no vulgar-boasting Goliath, but a
man foremost among the foremost in ripe learning
and intellect, intrepidity and worth. Of this
epigram-warfare I shall have more to say onward :
of the King's Scholarship and election to Trinity,
be it remembered that the demands on those who
xxxviii MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
attained these honours were high and thorough.
Summarily, the Life of Bishop Hacket (by Plume)
— a schoolfellow at Westminster, and elected to
Cambridge with him — yields this anecdote, that
the head-master [Ireland] on their departure
assured them, " that he expected to have credit
from them two at the University, or would never
hope for it afterwards by any while he lived; and
added withal, that he need give them no counsel
to follow their books, but rather to study mode-
rately and use exercise-, their parts being so good,
that if they were careful not to impair their health
with too much study, they would not fail to arrive
to the top of learning in any art or science." l
The admission-books of the University and
other MS. records furnish these entries : He was
admitted scholar 5th May, 1609, on the same day
with John Hacket (as above) ; matriculated pen-
sioner at Trinity 18th December, 1609, by the
rame of Georgius Harbert — and so the poet of
the " Prophecies of Cadwallader " (1604) spelled
his name " William Harbert ; " became B. A. in
1612-13 ; minor fellow, 3rd October, 1614 ; major
fellow, 15th March, 1615 (1616); A.M. 1616; sub-
lector quartas classis, 2nd October, 161 7.2 These ,
years cover from his fifteenth-sixteenth year (1608)
to his twenty-third (1617).
As at Westminster he had the paternal care of
the good Dean Neale, so at Trinity, by the con-
tinued carefulness of his mother — wh'o just about
the time of his going to Cambridge was again
married, to Sir John Danvers — he enjoyed the
like friendship (for " patronage " is not the right
word) of one equally estimable, and of larger in-
1 1676 (folio), p. T.
* Letters penes me from the late Joseph Roraflly, Esq., Registrar
of the University, and William Aldis Wright, Esq., M.A. of Trinity
College, Cambridge.
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. xxxix
tcllcct and richer every way — Dr. Nevil, Dean of
Canterbury and Master of Trinity College. He
took a personal interest in providing a tutor for
the young " King's Scholar " fresh from West-
minster— again it is a disappointment that his
name has not come down apparently — and Walton
thus writes of the introduction : " It may be
noted, that from his first entrance into the Col-
lrir<' the generous ["7no«£ magnificent" are Bishop
Plume's words] Dr. Nevil was a cherisher of his
studies, and such a lover of his person that he
took him often into his own company, by which
he confirmed his native gentleness." Contempo-
raneously Dr. Nevil was showing kindred interest
in Giles Fletcher, whose " Christ's Victorie and
Triumph in Heaven and Earth, over and after
Death," appeared in 1610 with a characteristic
epistle to the master.1
There seems no question that George Herbert
very speedily made himself a name at the Uni-
versity for varied as well as sound learning ;
"varied," inasmuch as the evidence seems unim-
peachable that, besides the usual Latin and Greek,
he "read" in French, Italian, and Spanish, as
well as Hebrew — much as Richard Crashaw was
doing in Cambridge while he was departing.2 He
came to the front soon. The " Epicedivm Can-
tabrigiense, in obitum immaturum, semperq. de-
flendum Henrici, Illustrissimi Principis Walliae,"
&c., 1612, contains his two Poems (Latin) in
commemoration of the lamented young prince.
He was then in his nineteenth year. So with
other Royal Collections. In 1618 he was " Rhe-
1 See our edition of the complete Poems of Giles Fletcher (1868),
£p. 6O4, in Fuller Worthies' Library edition : also (1875) published
y Chatto and Windas.
1 See our edition of the complete Works of Richard Crashaw (1873),
Tol. i. Memorial- Introduction.
xl MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
toric reader;" and elsewhere I shall adduce a
remarkable exhibition by him in this capacity, from
Hacket's Life of Archbishop Williams.1 So that
it seemed inevitable that, on a probable vacancy
in the office of public orator of the University, he
should have " moved " to get it ; nor is it less
noticeable that throughout he held the claims of
any other than himself as light. He sought the
post with ardour, as his letters remain to attest.
He "engaged" the advocacy of Sir John Dan vers,
his stepfather — who, from first to last, was most
generous to his stepson in his somewhat unac-
countable pecuniary straits and book-hunger, of
which more anon — felt sure of the goodwill of
his " ancient acquaintance " Sir Francis Nether-
sole, then the public orator, and to his kins-
man the Earl of Pembroke and Sir Benjamin
Rudyard, and others.2 The successor of Nevil as
Master of Trinity — Dr. John Richardson, one of
the translators of the authorized version of our
English Bible— wrote a testimonial-letter for him,
which Herbert himself characterized as " express-
ing the Universitie's inclination to him." He
obtained the coveted office. On 21st October,
1S19, a grace passed, allowing the orator, Sir
Francis Nethersole, to go abroad on the king's
business, and appointing George Harbert (etc, as
in the matriculation) his deputy. On 18th Janu-
ary 1619-20, Sir Francis Nethersole resigned,
and George Herbert was elected. By anticipation
he had described the office of public orator as
follows : " It is the finest place in the University,
though not the gainfullest, yet that will be about
* In the Orator's Book is a note in, it is believed, Herbert's auto-
graph, which gives the 19th January as the date. The explanation
probably is that, while elected on 18th, he made the note of it'»:i
19th.
8 See our Essay, as before in Fuller Worthies' Library edition.
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. xli
£30 per annum. But the commodiousness is
beyond the revenue, for the orator writes all the
University letters, be it to the King, Prince, or
whoever comes to the University. To requite
these pains, he takes place next to the Doctors, is
at all their assemblies and meetings, and sits
above the Proctors." These were "gaynesses"
which he acknowledged would " please a young
mau ; " and he was the young man intended (being
in his twenty-sixth year).
From 1619 to 1627 he discharged — with certain
significant interruptions — the duties of Public
Orator. These brought him into intimate rela-
tions with the statesmen and dignitaries of the
day ; and the king was waited on vigilantly (to
say the least) at neighbouring Royston on his
frequent visits. These visits led Bacon and
Bishop Lancelot Andrewes to Cambridge, and with
both Herbert formed a lifelong friendship. He
kept himself before all likely to be influential in
advancing him in the line of his predecessors
as Public Orator — Sir Robert Naunton and
Sir Francis Nethersole — and corresponded with
Lodowick, Duke of Lennox, and James, Marquis
of Hamilton. His " sickness " was named in
the letters of contemporaries, showing that he
bulked before them. Within all these activities
was an ever-recurring " conflict " between giv-
ing himself to the service of the State or of
the Church — never absolutely abandoning the
latter "design," yet overshadowing it with pur-
suit of the "painted pleasures" of the Court.
Even tenderly-loving and reverential Izaak Wal-
ton has to admit that the condescension of the
king, and the seductive charms of the royal
circle, dazzled his eyes and tempted him so
much, that now "he seldom looked towards Cam-
d
xlii MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
bridge, except when the king was there," but
" then he never failed."
A study of the facts, and the remaining lite-
rary memorials of them, leaves the impression of
scholarliness, culture, power, winningness ; but
equally unquestionable is the impression that in
the audacity of the Westminster boy assailing
Andrew Melville we have the " father of the
man ; " and if he was well born, he knew ir.
would have others know it ; if " personable "
and " a gentleman " in manners, he set himself
forth with all available adornment of attire, grati-
fying, says Walton euphemistically, his " genteel
humour for clothes ; " that if " gentle " natively,
as Walton puts it, it was only when he had every-
thing his own way ; that if " marked out for
piety " (as again Walton puts it), his writings of
the Cambridge years, and even his " Parentalia,"
with very trivial exceptions, are pagan rather
than Christian ; and if there are glimpses in his
letters and in his double Sonnet to his Mother of
gracious thought, and thrills of tender feeling,
he nevertheless was in the world and of it with
zest, spite of his " better self ;" so much so, that
behind his most vital utterances there was an
evident strife and alternation, not so keen and
intense, even awful, as the struggle of Phineas
Fletcher,1 yet real ; that, in fine, if onward he
became a " man of God " after the divinest exem-
plar, he was, until "led" by a way whicli lie
knew not, a courtier, a time-server, and a flatterer
of those who ought not to have been flattered by
any, much less by one such as Herbert ; so that
George Ellis, in his brief notice of him, only
roughly and harshly states the matter of fact in
1 See our edition of "Phineas Fletcher," four vote., Memorial-
Introdocuon and Essay.
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. xliii
saying " that Nature intended him for a knight-
errant, bat disappointed ambition made him a
taint" Willmott deems Ellis " unjust," and
accuses him of ignorance of Herbert's history. I
fear he knewjfchat history and its meanings better
and deeper than his critic, who cites a bit of a
letter written in his seventeenth year to meet
facts of his twenty-sixth — thirtieth years. Sir
Walter Scott gives the same judgment : " He
had studied foreign languages, in hopes of rising
to be Secretary of State ; but being disappointed
in his views at Court, he took orders, became pre-
bend of Lincoln, and rector of Bemerton, near
Salisbury." All this demands thinking out and
a judicial-critical verdict, and shall have it. Here
and now I must observe that I do not the less
— rather the more — recognize the loveliness of
the after-life in thus holding George Herbert to
have been a debtor to the constraining and
mastering ''grace of God" beyond most of his emi-
nent contemporaries. Not of nature (natively),
but from Above — not as primary, but ultimate —
came that saintliness which has perfumed his
memory through the centuries, and will en-
duringly.
Studying the University career of our worthy,
there seem to be these memorabilia in it of out-
ward fact, which however we can simply name :
(a) his learning and culture and eclectic stu-
diousness, ranging from the classics to Valdesso ;
(b) his public honours and offices ; (c) his at-
tendances at Court; (d) his friendships, as with
Bacon and Andrewes, the former leading to his
translation (in part) of one at least of Bacon's
greatest works, and the affectionate dedication
by Bacon to him of his versification of certain
Psalms ; (e) his correspondence official and pri-
xliv MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
vate ; (/) his literary work ; (g) his character,
as self-revealed.
Appointed in 1619 Public Orator, he continued
" iu this place," eays Walton, " eight years, and
managed it with as becoming and gVave a gaiety
as any had ever before or since his time. For
he had acquired great learning, and was blest
with a high fancy, a civil and sharp wit, and with
a natural elegance, both in his behaviour, his
tongue, and his pen." "Many particular evi-
dences " are withheld by his biographer, but he
mentions three — (a) his letter to the king acknow-
ledging the gift of the royal author's " Basilicon
Doron " for the University ; (b) his Epigrams-apo-
logetical in controversy with Andrew Melville of
Scotland, in answer to his Anti-Tami-Cami-Cate-
goria ; (c) his appointment to a sinecure office
that had formerly been held by Sir Philip Sidney.
These invite commentary ; but now only the last
falls to be dwelt upon.
Walton thus gives the fact: "The love of a
Court conversation, mixed with a laudable ambi-
tion to be something more than he was, drew him
often from Cambridge to attend the king where-
soever the Court was, who then gave him a
sinecure, which fell into his Majesty's disposal, I
think, by the death of the Bishop of St. Asaph.
It was the same that Queen Elizabeth had for-
merly given to her favourite, Sir Philip Sidney,
and valued to be worth an hundred and twenty
pounds per annum."
None of the biographers of Sidney, from Collins
to Bourne and Lloyd, has so much as named this
" sinecure," as none of the biographers or editors
of Herbert has succeeded in tracing it. We have
at long-last the satisfaction of doing so. From
the Sidney papers preserved at Penshurst, and
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. xhr
which had escaped the notice of all the consnlters
of these treasures there until Mr. Alfred J. Hor-
wood reported on them for the " Royal Commis-
sion of Historical Manuscripts " (3rd Report, 1872,
p. 227), it is discovered that Sir Philip Sidney
held church preferment, and, like Milton later,
was probably destined for the Church. These
documents will be read by all with deep interest :
" 1564, May 6. Philip Sydney, clerk, appoints
Master Gruff John, clerk, bachelor of law and
rector of Ysceifiog [mis-read by Mr. Horwood,
Skyneog], to be his proctor to appear before
Thomas, Bishop of St. Asaph, and excuse his
absence and allege the cause ; and of the rectory
and church of Whitford, to take admission and
institution and corporeal possession; and to re-
nounce the jurisdiction of the Pope, take the
oath of allegiance, &c., &c. (This is a copy
certified by William Bullock, registrar of St.
Asaph.)1
"(1564) 6 Eliz. May 7. Original institution
£>y the Bishop of St. Asaph, under his seal, of
Philip Sydney [he was then ten years old], Scholar,
to the church of Whyteford.
" (1564) 6 Eliz. May 8. Original admission by
Thomas, Bishop of St. Asaph, of Philip Sydney,
clerk, to the rectory and church of Whitford, vacant
by the just deprivation of Hugh Whitford, the
last rector [Episcopal seal.] At the foot is a
certificate by John Prece, the bishop's vicar, of
Sydney's admission by Gruff John [John Gruff?]
the proctor.
" (1564) 6 Eliz. June 4. Copy of indenture
between Thomas, Bishop of St. Asaph, and Philip
1 I annotate that this Thomas, Bishop of St. Asaph, was Thomas
Davies, D. D., of St. John'g College, Cambridge. He was consecrated
Bishop, May 2(5, 1561. Consult Wood's " Athen. Oxon." ». n. Reg.
Academ. Le Neve and BUhop Meyric'i Return for 1561.
Xlvi MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
Sydney, clerk, son of Sir Henrie Sydney, Kt.,
and William Mostyn, of Mostyn (as surety). The
bishop collates Philip Sydney to the church of
Whyteford, on the deprivation of Hugh Whit-
ford."
Mr. Horwood adds : " I recollect that in another
bundle of papers, opened and re-closed some time
before I saw the above, there is a paper in Italian
which relates to the same subject."
This is not the place for enlargement on this
new and noticeable incident in the life of Sidney.
Willis1 and other authorities blunder over it, and
in their lists of vicars and rectors. Suffice it here
to state, that the rectorship of Whitford was a
" sinecure," and that it was held by Bishop Parry,
as implied in Walton's account. Bishop Parry
died on Sept. 26, 1623 ; and thus in 1623 Geonro
Herbert obtained the comparatively lucrative
" sinecure" post. If it was worth £120 in lr>'2.'!,
its present value of well-nigh £1000 is significant
in relation to both dates.2
It is to be regretted that the registers and
other papers of Whitford, Flintshire, of the earlier
(Sidney) and later (Herbert) periods have perished.
But there seems no reasonable doubt that this,
sinecure " rectorship," in distinction from the
vicarship, was the " sinecure office " bestowed on
our worthy by the king. He held it as a layman,
and so continued even when he received the pre-
bendaryship of Lincoln, in connection with Leigh-
ton Bromswold.3.
1 Willis's Survey of St. Asaph. In the new edition the errors are
retained ; but my fririnlly correspondent, K. II. Morris, Ks<|., Hume-
stay, Newtown, has sent corrections for insertion ainonir the >
3 In Willis's Survey it is described as a sinecure, value £28 lit. wf
This valuation, no doubt, is from the King's IJook of 1561, or earlier.
3 Whitford has no history in itself; yet in, 1st the association of
Bit Philip Sidney and Geoijre Herbert with it us the h<\
henceforward give it a kind of consecration. It is to be wished
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. xlvii
The "eight years" assigned by Walton to the
public oratorship advances us to 1627.1 This was
in many ways a crisis-year in the life of Herbert.
Previously he had wished to resign his offices in
the University, and lay himself out for political
advancement and rewards. But his mother
opposed; and being of the old-fashioned way of
thinking that the fifth commandment is perma-
nent in its obligation, not limited to our teens,
he would not " resign " without the consent of
his mother.2 Another Hand — the nail-marked
Hand — was to guide him out of that phantas-
magoria of ambition that was firing a naturally
imperious imagination. Walton thus narrates
the circumstances and the "leading": "In this
time," says he, " of Mr. Herbert's attendance and
expectation of some good occasion to remove from
Cambridge to Court, God, in Whom there is au
unseen chain of causes, did in a short time put
an end to the lives of two of his most obliging
that some local antiquary would get at the facts more fully. Bishop
Parry was in nowise remarkable, unless in that he was author of the
Revised Version of the Welsh Bible. He was born at Ruthin, in the
county of Denbigh, in 1560; educated at Westminster, under Cam-
den ; elected student at Christ Church, Oxford, l.~>79 ; became subse-
quently one of the Masters of Rnthin School ; Chancellor of Bangor
Cathedral and Vicar of Gresford, in 1592 ; Dean of Bangor, 1599 ;
elected to the See of St. Asaph, Oct. 19, 1604, confirmed Oct. 29, and
consecrated Dec. 30. He founded a pension of £6 per annum at
Jesus College for a scholar born in the town of Rnthin or in the dio-
cese of St. Asaph. He died on 26th September 162;!, and was buried
in the cathedral. Among Dr. Bliss's Oxford-printed books was a
"Concio ad Clerum " of 1594 by him. The present Bishop of St.
' saph kindly sends me this memorandum : " I have found in a list
T Sinecure Rectors in the ' History of the Diocese of St. Asaph,' by
f Rev. D. R. Thomas, the following entry : ' Cilcain 1596. Yale
omas — Parry, Bishop in Com.' "
1 Letters of the late Joseph Romilly, Esq., as before, confirm
Valton, that he held the office of public orator until 1«27, in which
•»r Dr. Creighton succeeded him. It would appear that his deputy
horndike had the duties delegated to him pretty frequently, and for
siderable periods.
Walton states, " in conformity to her [his mother's] will, he
pt his Orator's place till after her death, and then presently de-
ned it ; and the more willingly, that he might be succeeded by his
end Robert Creighton, who is now Dr. Creightou and the worthy
shop of Wells."
xlviii MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
and most powerful friends — Lodowick, Duke of
Richmond, and James, Marquis of Hamilton ; and
not long after him, King James died also, and
•with them all Mr. Herbert's Court hopes ; so that
he presently betook himself to a retreat from
London, to a friend in Kent, where he lived very
privately, and was such a lover of solitariness, as
was judged to impair his health more than his
study had done." " In this time of retirement,"
he continues — and his words are very weighty —
" he had many conflicts with himself,/whether he
should return to the painted pleasures of a Court-
life, or betake himself to a study of divinity, and
enter into sacred orders, to which his dear mother
had often persuaded him. j These were such con-
flicts as they only can know that have endured
them ; for ambitious desires and the outward
glory of the world are not easily laid aside ; but
at last God inclined him to put on a resolution
to serve at His altar." In agreement with this
account there are scattered up and down his
Letters and Poems half-unconscious intimations
of a recurring "conflict" as between the "painted
pleasures" of the Court and his early-formed pur-
pose of entering God's service in His Church. ,
From year to year he delayed a final decision —
not without pangs of contrition and cries of
penitence and abasement. We may not pro-
nounce that it was an unworthy ambition to
cherish the hope of being Secretary of State, or
that it would have been wrong for George Herbert
to have " served " under the king. But we must
hold him to have been blameable in that he so
long hesitated to carry out what was the con-
viction of his mind and the impulse of his heart.
Even when he had made his ultimate resolve to
give himself to the Church there was a twofold
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. xlix
opposition — (a) from Court friends, who sought
to alter his resolution to enter into sacred orders,
as being " too mean an employment, and too
much below his birth and the excellent abilities
and endowments of his mind ;" (&) from his own
self-knowledge of the reluctance and resistance
with which he had come to the resolution ; a self-
knowledge that certainly had no such enormities to
burden conscience as Donne had, nevertheless, in
the white light of the divine presence humbling and
accusing enough. He overcame both ; and thence-
forward sought only the " one thing," how he
could "spendandbe spent" for his magnanimously
patient and forbearing Master, Who, as in the
quaint letter of Drummond of Hawthornden to
Sir Maurice Drummond (written almost con-
temporaneously), had been saying to him — " You
have spent now many years at Court, and yet
that clock which hath struck ten to others is
still pointing at one or tivo to you. Have you
not yet taken a distaste and satiety of that old
mistress of yours, the Court? Her long delay in
preferring you, tells you are too honest" (Works,
1711, pp. 145-6). I feel that a careful considera-
tion of the oration to Charles on his return from
Spain impresses one that, with all shortcomings,
Herbert really was " too honest " for the Court.
Covertly no doubt, yet unmistakably, he expresses
his desire that there had been a marriage ; and
why? Because he infinitely prefers peace to war,
and though he says he is ready to take war if the
king so wills it, he lets it be seen what he thinks
about the matter. In the first place, therefore,
this shows that the love of truthfulness prevailed
over his courtliness. For though this thing may
have been pleasing to James, it was not likely to
be pleasing to Charles, who came back with quite
1 MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
I
a different opinion. In the second place, his j
friends, Lennox, Eichmond, and Hamilton, and the
head of his house, Pembroke, were of the same i
opinion, and unless he was prepared to swing |
round as Pembroke did, one understands that it j
was not merely the death of Lennox and Hamilton j
which stood in the way of his advancement in J
Charles's Court. He had thrown himself athwart j
the Buckingham-Charles faction, and he could i
not expect promotion. Just in the same way his I
brother Edward ceased to be ambassador at the 1
beginning of 1624 (not as Walton says, in Charles's ]
reign), and though he got a peerage, got no more 1
embassies, as being opposed to the French I
alliance.1
There is a shadow of obscurity over Herbert's I
taking of orders. " Within that year" — Walton j
states without giving the year — "he was made I
deacon; but the day when, or by whom, I caunoti -
learn." He proceeds: "But that he was about 1
that time made deacon is most certain ; for I find J
by the records of Lincoln that he was made pro- *
bendary of Layton Ecclesia, in the diocese of I
Lincoln, July 15th, 1626, and that this prebend j
was given him by John, then Lord Bishop of that; Ij
see." All this is inferential and erroneous. For, I
as will appear in its place, when Herbert was j
"presented" to Fuggleston St. Peter's and 1
Bemerton he was still a layman only. Conse- i
quently, as already intimated, he held his pre- \
bendaryship and "living" of Layton Ecclesia 3
not as "deacon," but as a laic, just as with the 1
sinecure rectorship of Whitford, in 1623.
The statesman-bishop of Lincoln, John Williams
— our Protestant Wolsey — had none of the scru- j
^ ' I am deeply indebted to a pre-eminent living historian (S. A. I
Gardiner, Esq.) for calling my attention to the oration in tht- light I
of these facts.
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. li
pies and stringency in insisting on "ordination "
of a Jewell, in so conferring his gifts, and their
acceptance so would obviate scruples on the pre-
bendary's part. An incident told in Ayre's "Life
of Jewell" illustrates the practice. It is thus
related : " A courtier, who was a layman, having
obtained a prebend in the church of Sarum, and
intending to let it to another lay person for his
best advantage, acquainted Bishop Jewell with
the conditions between them, and some lawyer's
opinion about them, to which the bishop replied,
' What you lawyers may answer I know not, but
for my part, to my power I will take care that
my church shall sustain no loss whilst I live.'"1
The church of Leighton Bromswold (or Layton
Ecclesia of Walton), which the "prebend" also
bestowed, is in Huntingdonshire, and is of sin-
gular historic interest. Elsewhere I give the
facts and associations.2 What falls here to be
remembered is that baring visited the church
and found it " ruinated," as it had been for twenty
years, he resolved at once to have it " reparated."
A correspondence of singular interest is found in
the "Life of Nicholas Ferrar,"3 and which we
have transferred to our collection of Herbert's
" Letters." 4 There was an " estate " attached to
i the " prebend," and the prebendary probably
consecrated its income to his pious object. Still
it seemed something wild and rash even to his
good mother. She sent for him, and urged him
in the circumstances to return the " prebend " to
1 " Works of Bishop Jewell " (Parker Society), vol. iv. p. xvii.
Biog. Mem. Cf. vol. li. pp. 10, 11, Sec.
1 See a Paper by me in " Sunday at Home " (Religions Tract So-
ciety) for September, 1873; also our annotated reprint of Walton's
" Life " m vol. iii. of the Fuller Worthies' Library edition, as before.
3 " Nicholas Ferrar : Two lives by his Brother John and by Doctor
Jebb. Now first edited with Illustrations [literary, not pictorial] by
J. K. H. Mayor, M.A. Cambridge," 186S, pp. 49, 60, P4, »eq.
4 Letters in vol. iii. of Fuller Worthies' Library edition.
Hi MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
the bishop, remonstrating that it was unreason- 1
able to expect that he, with his weak body and
empty purse, should be able to build churches.!
The son asked one day to consider, and on seeing i
her the second time entreated " that she would,*
at the age of thirty-three, allow him to become
an undutiful son ; for he had made a vow to God, I
that if he were able he would rebuild the
church."1 So sweet and filial persuasiveness
prevailed; and Lady Danvers subscribed herself
£50, and prevailed upon the Earl of Pembroke to
give £50, which indeed he increased to £100,
through " a witty and persuasive letter " of the
prebendary.2 Others were like benefactors ; and
the church, if not rebuilded (for that is too large
a word) was lifted out of its ruins. Specially was
it "restored" within. The pulpit and reading-
desk and pews remain " unto this day " as Her.
bert bestowed them; the two former of equal
height, for he was wont to say " that they should
neither have a precedency or a priority of the
other ; but that prayer and preaching, being
equally useful, might agree like brethren, and
have an equal honour and estimation." 3 Leighton.
Bromswold Church lies transfigured in the light
of the holy memories of George Herbert and
Nicholas Ferrar and Arthur Woodnot.4
Following on the deaths of Lodowick, Duke ot
Lennox, and James, Marquis of Hamilton, and
the king, came that of Bacon on 9th April, 1626,
whereon he wrote a noticeable addition (in Latin)
to his verse-commemorations of his illustrious
friend; and while Leighton Bromswold was being
"repaired" came the most desolating and darken-
ing of all his sorrows, the death of his lady-mother
' Walton, as before. 2 Ibid. 3 Ibid.
4 In the quarto, Fuller Worthies' Library edition, there are anas-
tatic views of Leighton Bromswold, withiu aud witliuut.
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. liii
in 1627.1 The "Parentalia" remains to attest
his grief and reverence. His own health was
fragile. Probably this, with the loss of his mother,
determined his complete resignation of the public
oratorship and retirement from the University.
In the immediately succeeding year he is found
in London, and at the house of his brother Sir
Henry, at Woodford, in Essex, threatened with
" consumption." In 1628 (1629 as we should now
write) he was at Dauntsey, Wilts, the seat of his
relative (by his mother's second marriage) the
Earl of Dan by. Its "choice airs" and the lavish
kindness of his noble host improved his health
and cheered his drooping spirit, with a double
result, viz., his marriage and his ordination as
a clergyman (or "Priest to the Temple"). Of
both, Walton must be allowed to tell us, even
though we must afterwards dissipate the romance
of the marriage. Having described his person
end manners, he goes on : " These and his other
visible vertues begot him so much love from a
gentleman of a noble fortune and a near kinsman
to his friend the Earl of Danby, namely from Mr.
Charles Danvers, of Bainton, in the county of
Wilts, Esq., that Mr. Danvers, having known
him long and familiarly, did so much affect him
that he often and publicly declar'd a desire that
Mr. Herbert would marry any of his nine daughters
(for he had so many), but rather his daughter
Jane than any other, because Jane was his be-
loved daughter; and he had often said the same
to Mr. Herbert himself; and that if he could like
i her for a wife and she him for a husband, Jane
should have a double blessing ; and Mr. Danvers
had so often, said the like to Jane, and so much
1 A« before noticed, Donne preached her funeral sermon ; and on
it* publii-atinu Herbert appended his poems in Latin and Greek called
" P&reutalia."
liv MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
commended Mr. Herbert to her, that Jane be-
came so much a Platouick as to fall in love with
Mr. Herbert unseen. This was a fair prepara-
tion for a marriage ; but, alas, her father dyed
before Mr. Herbert's retirement to Dauntsey ;
yet some friends to both parties procur'd their
meeting, at which time a mutual affection entered
into both their hearts, as a conqueror enters into
a surprised city ; and love having got such pos-
session govern'd, and made there such laws and
resolutions as neither party was able to resist;
insomuch that she chang'dher name into Herbert;
the third day after this first interview. This
haste might in others be thought a love frensie
or worse ; but it was not, for they had wooed so
like princes as to have select proxies; such as
were true friends to both parties ; such as well
understood Mr. Herbert's and her temper of
mind; and also their estates so well before this
interview, that the suddenness was justifiable by
the strictest rules of prudence. And the more
because it prov'd so happy to both parties ; for
the eternal Lover of mankind made them happy
in each other's mutual and equal affections and
complyance ; indeed so happy that there was
never any opposition betwixt them, unless it wer*
a contest which should most incline to a com-
plyance with the other's desires." We must add
very poetical and very improbable ; for it seems
utterly unlikely that there could have been "long
and familiar" knowledge of Herbert by Mr.
Charles Danvers and that profound esteem, with-
out visits to his house. Besides, it looks more
than strange that Jane Danvers and Herbert
should never have even seen each other before,
considering that her near relative, Sir John
Danvers, had been at the very time, for sixteen
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. Iv
years, the husband of George Herbert's mother,
and a true second father to him.1 I suspect good
Izaak was over-credulous herein, and that this
must be ranked among the "some mistakes"
for which he hoped to " purchase pardon from a
good-natured reader" in his epistle before his
collected Lives (1670). It is due to Walton to
remember his express intimation in the same
epistle : " I am to tell the reader that, though this
life of Mr. Herbert was not writ by me in haste,
yet I intended it a review before it should be
made public ; but that was not allowed me, by
reason of my absence from London when it was
printing."
The marriage of George Herbert to Jane
Dauvers took place at Edington on 5th March,
1628 (1629).2
Speedily after his marriage came a " presen-
tation" to that "living" with which his name is
most imperishably linked ; and it is no common
satisfaction to be able to reproduce the document.
It runs as follows : " Rex, &c., Reverendo in
Christo patri et Domino Domino Johanni (per-
missione Divina) Sarum Episcopo ejusve in ab-
sentia vicario in spiritualibus generali sive et
cuicuuque in hac parte auctoritatem habenti seu
habituro salutem. Ad Rectoriam Ecclesiae paro-
chialis de Fulston Sancti Petri et Bemerton vestre
Diocesis et jurisdictionis jam legitime et de jure
vacantem et ad nostram presentationem per
trauslationem ultimi Incumbentis ibidem ad
Episcopatum Bathoniae et Wellensis spectantem
dilectum nostrum in Christo Georgium Herbert
in Artibus Magistrum vobis tenore praDsentium
1 See Aubrey and Jackson's " Wiltshire," pp. 22 1-6.
1 The original Kegister has disappeared, bat this entry is taken
from a copy preserved fortunately in the Registry : Letter from B.
H. Ueedham, Esq., Ashfleld House, Kimbollun, penes m*.
Ivi MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
praasentiamus ; mandantes et requirentes quatenus i
eundem Georgium Herbert ad Bectoriam Ecclosiafl ;
parochialis de Fiilston Sancti Petri et Bemertou
praedictam admittere ipsumque Eectorem ejus-
dem ac de et iu eadem rite et legitime iustituere |
canonice et invcstire cum omnibus suis juribus i
mernbris et pertinentiis universis, caeteraque j
omnia et singula facere et agere et per implere
quae vestro in hac parte iucumbunt officio pas-
torali velitis cum favore et efiectu. In cujus rei, :
&c. Teste Rege apud Westm. decimo sexto die
Aprilis per breve de private sigillo," &C.1
In agreement with all this, though incident- I
ally inaccurate, is Walton's full and pleasantly-
quaint narrative : " About three mouths after this
marriage, Dr. Curie, who was then rector of1 !
Bemerton in Wiltshire, was made Bishop of Bath |
and Wells, and not long after translated to Win- j
Chester, and by that means the presentation of a I
clerk to Bemerton did not fall to the Earl of Pern- 1
broke (who was the undoubted patron of it), but I
to the King, by reason of Dr. Curie's advance- j
1 For the general reader a translation may be acceptable : " The , I
King, Ac., to the Reverend and lord in Christ, John (by Divine per- 1
misiion) Lord liishop of Salisbury, or in his absence to the Vicar ,
our
to the Rectory of the parish church of Fulston [Fuggleston] St.
Peter's and Bemerton in your diocese and jurisdiction now rightly
and lawfully vacant and belonging to our presentation through the
translation of the last Incumbent of the same to the Bishopric of Bath
and Wells : commanding and requiring that you be pleased to admit
the game Qeorge Herbert to the aforesaid Rectory of Fulston St.
Peter's and Bemerton, and (admit) him Rector of the same, and duly
and lawfully institute him of and in the same according to the Canons,
and invest him with all its complete rights, members, and appur-
tenances, and do carry out and fulfil all and singular those things
which belong to your pastoral office in this matter with goo:i v
effect. In ratification of which, &c. In presence of the king at
Westminster, the sixteenth day of April, by brief of private seal,"
tic. (Her Majesty's Public Record Office.' Pat. C>, ch. i. part 11,
N". IV Mr. Gardiner, as before, favoured me with the document.
It had escaped Walton, though printed by Hushworth in his huge
folios.
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. Ivii
ment : but Philip, then Earl of Pembroke (for
William was lately dead), requested the king to
bestow it upon his kinsman George Herbert ; and
the king said, ' Most willingly to Mr. Herbert, if
it be worth his acceptance:' and the Earl as
willingly and suddenly sent it to him without
socking ; but though Mr. Herbert had formerly
put ou a resolution for the Clergy; yet, at re-
ceiving this presentation, the apprenension of the
last great account that he was to make for the
cure of so many souls made him fast and pray
often, and consider for not less than a month : in
which time he had some resolutions to decline
both the priesthood and that living. And in this
time of considering, ' he endured,' as he would
often say, ' such spiritual conflicts as none can
think, but only those that have endured them.'
"In the midst of these conflicts his old and
dear friend, Mr. Arthur Woodnot, took a journey
to salute him at Baiuton (where he then was with
his wife's friends and relations), and was joyful
to be an eye-witness of his health and happy
marriage. And after they had rejoiced together
some few days they took a journey to Wilton, the
famous seat of the Earls of Pembroke; at which
time the King, the Earl, and the whole Court
were there, or at Salisbury, which is near to it.
And at this time Mr. Herbert presented his
thanks to the Earl for his presentation to Bemer-
tou, but had not yet resolved to accept it, and
told him the reason why ; but that night the
Earl acquainted Dr. Laud, then Bishop of London,
and after Archbishop of Canterbury, with his
kinsman's irresolution. And the Bishop did the
next day PO convince Mr. Herbert that the re-
fusal of it was a sin, that a tailor was scut for to
come speedily from Salisbury to "Wilton to take
Iviii MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
measure, and make him canonical clothes against
next day ; which the tailor did : and Mr. Herbert
being so habited went with his presentation to
the learned Dr. Davenant, who was then Bishop
of Salisbury, and he gave him institution imme-
diately (for Mr. Herbert had been made deacon
some years before) ; and he was also the same
day (which was April 26, 1630) Inducted into the
good, and more pleasant than healthful, parsonage
of Bemerton, which is a mile from Salisbury."
It will be observed that this was only ten days
after the date of the " presentation."
One is gladdened to find Laud giving counsel
so fitting and kindly as is told above, and to know
that it was the venerable Davenant who gave
him "institution." If we smile at the swift
message for the tailor, and perchance, from the
date of the " presentation" being Westminster
and not Wilton, must doubt of the anecdote, we
see by the simple " in artibus magistrum" instead
of the otherwise " clericum et in artibus magis-
trum" (as in the very preceding entry, No. 14),
that he was scill a " layman," though Prebendary
of Lincoln. Moreover, only a " layman" would
be wearing " sword and silk clothes such as had
now to be exchanged for canonicals" (Walton).
To this period belongs his aspiration in " 128.
The Priesthood" (11. 4-6) :—
" fain would I draw nijfh.
Fain pat thee on, exchanging my lay sword
For that of th* Holy Word" (= the Sword of the Spirit).
" When at his induction," continues Walton, " he
was shut into Bemerton Church, being left there
alone to toll the bell, as the law requires him, he
staid so much longer than an ordinary time be-
fore he returned to his friends that staid expect-
ing him at the church-door, that his friend Mr.
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. llx
Wooduot looked in at the church-window, and,
saw him lie prostrate on the ground before the
altar : at which time and place (as he after told
Mr. Woodnot) he set some rules to himself for
the future manage of his life ; and then and there
made a vow to labour to keep them."
It were to violate the sanctities of reverence to
retell the story of the •' ministry " at Bemerton and
its all too premature close. The reader will turn to
Walton's Life, and discover how true are his open-
ing words thereon : " I have now brought him to
the parsonage of Bemerton and to the thirty-sixth
year of his age, and must stop here, and bespeak
the reader to prepare for an almost incredible story
of the great sanctity of the short remainder of his
holy life ; a life so full of charity, humility, and
all Christian virtues, that it deserves the eloquence
of St. Chrysostom to commend and declare it."
The sharp sword of the ever-active spirit wore
out its fragile sheath, the body. " Consumption"
was in him from his Cambridge student-days, and
the moist climate, perhaps, hastened " the end."
Living from day to day as his very own Parson
of " The Priest to the Temple," few servants of
the Master have crowded into a public ministry
of just about the same duration as his, so much
of true work and word. Without, he was a bene-
diction wherever he went, for he went about con-
tinually doing good. Within, he was building
up the " living stones" of his Temple ; for nearly
all his sacred poems probably belong to Bemerton.
The close was rounded into a pathetic beauty.
His heart, if ever one was, was that " harp of a
thousand strings" of which William Cowper sang,
and debarred of his twice-a-week foot-walk to
Salisbury Cathedral, he himself took his lute and
played. He not merely " walked" down the
Ix MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
"valley of the shadow of death" — knowing no
" fear" and so making uo " haste" — but su!i<*.
"The Sunday before his death," says Walton,
" he rose suddenly from his bed or couch, called
for one of his instruments, took it into his hand,
and said, ' My God, my God,
'My musick shall find Thee,
And every string
Shall have his attribute to sing •. '
and having tuned it, he play'd and sung :
' The Sundaies of man's life,
Thredded together on Time's string.
Make bracelets to adorn the wife
Of the eternal! glorious King :
On Sunday, Heaven's dore stands ope,
Blessings are plentiful! and rife,
More plentiful! then hope.'
Thus he sung on earth such hymns and anthems
as the angels and he and Mr. Farrer [Ferrar]
now sing in heaven." Loving hands and hearts
tended him. Over at Little Gidding Nicholas
Ferrar prayed for him in golden words that we '
still read.1 At last, softly as a little child, he
"fell asleep" in Jesus, and his eyes were closed
here to open " in glory ; " as finely said Sozotnen j
(lib. ii. c. 11), 'Paulisper .... oculos claude;]
nam statim lumen Dei videbis." The Kegister '
of Fuggleston and Bemerton thus records the'
burial: "Mr. George Herbert, Esqr, Parson of
Fuggleston and Bemertou, was buried 3 day of
March, 1632, i.e. according to our-reckoniug, 1633.2
1 See Professor Mayor's Nicholas Ferrar, as before, pp. 87-8igj
milled to Walton's Life in vol. iii. of the Fuller Worthies' Library1 edi-
tion, as before.
2 The hitherto accepted date of Herbert's death, or rather inter-
ment, " 'M day of March, lfi.32," is shown to be a mistake by (r<) the
date of his letter to. Nicholas Ferrar, on VaMesso, which is "L'iuh
September, 1632 ;" (6) the will of Dorothy Vanghan, daugtiti-r of
Herbert's sister Margaret, and so his niece, which was " proved " in
the Prerogative Court of Canterbury on 9th October, lii:(2, by Her-
bert as the appointed executor, who had been " sworn " by coiumia-
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. Ixi
His dust lies within the little church of Bemertou ;
and pilgrim-feet are drawn to it from generation
to generation, and will more and more.
It only remains that here — and for the first
time — I give literatim George Herbert's Will,
which neither Oley nor Walton nor any after-
inquirer seems to have sought for.2 It suggests
much, as will appear hereafter.
EXTRACTED FROM THE PRINCIPAL REGISTRY OF HER MAJESTY'S
COURT OF PROBATE (in the Prerogative Court of Canterbury,
Ao. Dni. 1632).
I GEORGE HERBERT commending my soule and body to
Almightie God that made them doe thus dispose of my goodes.- I
(fine all my goodes both within doores and without doores both
monneys and bookes and howshould sluffe whether in my possession
or out of my possession that properly belonge to me vnto my deurr
wife excepting onely these legacies hereafter insning. First there U
leaven hvudred poandes in Air. Thomas Lawleys handes a Merchant
of London which fell to me by the death of my deare neece Mi «
Dorothy Vanghan whereof two hvndred ponndes belonges to my two
Neeces that survive and the rest unto my selfe : this whole sum of
flue hvndred pounds I bequeath vntomy Neeres equally to be df*i> ol
bvtweene them excepting some legacies of my deceased Neece which
are to be payd ont of it vnto some whose names shal be annexed
rntothis bill [tie]. Then I bequeath twenty pounds vnto the poore
of this parish to be devided according to my deare wiues discretion.
Then I bequeath to Mr Hays the Comment of Lucas Brugensis vpon
the Scripture and his halfe yeares wages aforehand. then I bequeath
to Mr. Bostocke St. Augustines Workes and his halfe yeares wages
•forehand, then I leave to my servant Elizabeth her dabble wages
(linen her, three pound more besides that which is due to her: to
Ann I leave thirty shillinges : to Margaret twenty shillinges : To
William Twenty Nobles, To John tweutie shillinges, all these are
•on before Nathaniel Bostocke, clerk— Herbert's curate— the " com-
mission" being accounted for, no doubt, by the fragility of the
executor's health : (c) Herbert's own will (as supra), wherein a
legacy to himself by his niece is disposed of as being in his posses-
lion. These suffice to establish that 3rd March, 1632, means oar
1*53. The accepted date of 1633 originated with the Bemertou
Register entry, which is one of several irregularly made, as suited
the writer's convenience and memory, wherein 1&(2, 1633, and 1634,
are jumbled together. It follows also that 1632 of the first edition of
" The Temple must have been our 1633. Hence our lt>32-3. Thus
Herbert's death is to be placed at the end of February or on
the 1st March, 1633.
1 Furnished me by B. H. Beedham, Esq., as before : collated for
me with the original by Colonel Chester. Mere "official copies ' of
wills or other documents, aa a rule, are worthless.
Ixii MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
over and abone their wages : To Sara thirteene shillinges fonr-. I
pence, Alsoe my Will and pleasure is that Mr. Woodnoth should be I
mine Executor to whome I bequeath twenty pound, whereof fllteene I
pound shal be bestowed vppon Leighton Church, the other five pound I
I gine to himselfe. Lnstiie I hesech Sir John Danvers that he would I
be pleased to be Overseer of this will—
GEORGE HERBERT.
(Testes) NATHANIBLI BOSTOCKE— ELIZABETH BURDEN.
On the other side are the names of those to whome my deceased I
Neece left legacyes.
All those that are crost are discharged already, the rest are to be I
payd.
To Mres Magdalen Vanghan one hvndred pound To Mrs Ca- 1
tharine Vanghan one hvndred pound To Mr George Herbert one I
hvndred pound x To Mrs Beatrice Herbert forty pound x To Mrs I
Jane Herbert tenn pound x To Mrs Danvers five pound x T< > Amy I
Danvers thirty shiltinges To Mrs Anne Danvers twenty shillinges I
To Mrs. Mary Danvere twenty shillinges To Mrs Michel twenty j
shillinges To Mrs Elizabeth Danvers Mr Henry Danvers wife I
twenty shillinges, to the poore of the parish twenty pound x To my I
Lord of Cherbnry tenn pound To Mr Bostocke forty shillings x
To Elizabeth Burthen thirty shillinges x To Mary Gifford tenn •
shillinges x To Anne Hibbert tenn shillinges x To William Scuce j
twenty shillinges x To Mrs Judith Spencer five pound To Mnry j
Owens forty shillinges. To Mrs Mary Lawly fifty shillinges x To
Mr Gardiner tenn pound MS. that the flue pound due to Mrs
Judeth Spenser is to be payd to Mrs. Mary Lawly at Chelsey M8. '
that there are diners moneys of mine in Mr Stephens handes Sta-
tioner of London, having lutely receaved an hvndred and two poundes
besides some Remainders of monyes wherof he is to giue as I know he <
will a Just account : if there be any body els that owe me any thing i
else of old debt I forgiue them.
PROBATUM fnit Testamentum snprascriptum apud London corara I
venerabili viro mngistro Willimo Mericke legum Docfore Surrogate j
venerabilis viri Domini Henrici Marten militis legum etiam doctoris 1
Cnriip Prerogative Cantnariensis Magisteri Custodis sive Coiiunis.^
sarij legitime constituti duodecimo die mensis Martii Anno Domini'i
jnxta cnrsum et compntacionem Ecclesie Anglicane Millesimo sex-j
centesimo tricesimo secundo juramento Arthuri Woodnoth Exera-Jj
toris in hnjnsmodi Testamento nominati cui commissa fuit adnm^H
tratio omnium et si/igulornm bonorum jurium et creditorum dictiil
defnncti de bene et fideliter administrando eadem ad Saiieta Dei
Evangelia in debita juris forma jurat.
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
II. CRITICAL.
' HUS far the outward facts of the bio-
graphy of George Herbert-are given,
it will perhaps be admitted, with more
fulness and accuracy of detail than
hitherto. I propose now to offer the reader a study
of the life in relation to the writings, and of the
writings in relation to the life, in order to arrive
at a deeper knowledge and a more adequate esti-
mate of both. Extant narrative and criticism alike
have been to a large extent traditional and repeti-
tive. It is surely about time that such a life and
such writings were submitted to a searching and
deliberate examination, that we may understand
the secret of the still unspent and unique power
of these lowly and unpretentious writings — after
well-nigh two and a half centuries — and the
abiding and ever-growing wealth of affectionate
reverence cherished toward the man so long sub-
sequent to the inevitable passing away of the
" glamour" of personal memories — as of Barnabas
Oley and Izaak Walton ; e. g. in the United States
of America, in Canada and Nova Scotia, in Aus-
tralia and New Zealand, in India and throughout
the English-speaking colonies, the lovers of Her-
bert are as numerous and as ardent as in the
mother-country.1 None the less is this desirable,
1 To the praise of O. W. Childs, Esq., of Philadelphia, U.S.A., be
it recorded that on learning the wish of the Dean of Westminster
and others to place a memorial window in oar great Abbey, in hnnonr
of George Herbert and William Cowper, at Westminster-school boys.
Ixiv MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
in that it affords opportunity of bringing together
many scattered remarks of eminent admirers,
contemporary and recent.
These FIVE things seem to invite thought and
critical examination :
I. THE ORIGINAL AND EARLY EDITIONS AND MSS. OP
THE WRITINGS AND OUR TEXT.
II. THE STORY OF THE LlFE, AS REVEALING HIS
ORIGINAL AND ULTIMATE CHARACTER, PUBLIC AND
PRIVATE.
in. THE ANTI-TAMI-CAMI-CATEGORIA CONTROVERSY,
AND ITS SIGNIFICANCES AND BEARINGS.
IV. THE CHARACTERISTICS OF HERBERT'S WRITINGS,
VERSE AND PROSE.
v. EARLY AND LATER ESTIMATES.
I. The original and early editions and MSS. of the
Writings and our text.
Like Sir Philip Sidney's, nearly the whole of
George Herbert's writings were published post-
humously, although, with such loving editors
and guardians as Nicholas Ferrar and Barnabas
Oley, it were almost a wrong to follow T. P., on
publishing the AirozriAZMATiA SACRA of Bishop
Andrewes (1657, folio), in calling them " posthu-
mous and orphan" l The University Collections,'
as of the Lamentations for Prince Henry (1612),
he spontaneously and large-heartedly expressed his readiness to fur-
nish such a window at his own cost. The generous offer \vn< cor-
dially accepted, and a very noble memorial will shortly be completed.
1 Even so (presumably) Well-informed :i writer us the author of the
Paper on Herbert in the "Retrospective Review" (vol. iii. pj> 21.V
222) has fallen into the error of saying, " His poems were publi.-hed
during his lifetime" (p. 217). In the " Christian Remembrancer "
fur July, 18i>^ (vol. xliv. p. !<>">), the writer of iv thoughtful paper cm
George Herbert :in 1 his Times remarks of this: " It is character-
tistic i Hi is modesty, or. more strictly speaking, of the victory which
he won over his naturally eager and ambitious temperament, that
they were [nearly] all posthumous in publication." Again: "The
too fre'iuent recurrence of anti-climax, and even downright !
at the em! of many [•] of the poems, indicates that they were never
properly revised by the ' lust baud' of the author" (p. 129).
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. bcv
and on the death of Queen Anne (1619), and the
like, contained the well-known bnt not at all re-
markable Latin verse, given in their places ; and
as an appendix to Dean Donne's Funeral Sermon
for Lady Danvers, the " Parentalia" were added
(1627). Probably others were less or more cir-
culated in manuscript, as was the mode even on-
ward: the Melville Epigrams must have been
thus circulated (as will appear hereafter). But
substantially thd writings of George Herbert were
given to the world not by their author, but by
friends. At a time when the press travailed
with the superabundance of books, this initial
fact in the bibliography of these writings is notice-
able, perhaps praiseworthy. Nevertheless, there
can be no doubt that the posthumousness of
Herbert's book? placed them under inevitable
disadvantages as compared with, e. g. Robert
Hrrrick's " Hesperidos," or Henry Vaughan's
"Silex Scintikfns" or " Olor Iscanus." As every
one knows who has had to do with the press,
what is written is one thing, and what is printed
quite another ; that the latter gives a different
look and character to the whole, so much so that
faults previously overlooked come out startliugly
and accusingly in the proof-sheets. There are
things in "The Temple" that one feels persuaded
would have been cleared of their obscurity ; while
other things must have been felt to be incon-
gruous, not to speak of occasional instances of
mean symbolisms in even the finest poems — re-
minding of a lark that has just been soaring and
tinging, singing and soaring, all a-thrillwith the
ecstasy of its divinely-given music, dropping
down not into the yellowing corn or daisied grass,
but right on the bare-trodden highway : and so
too with false rhymes, and at least one missing
Ixvi MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
line (in 107. "The Size," 1. 40). The writings of
Herbert claim indulgence, therefore, as not having
passed in their printed form beneath his own
eyes. Very touching is Izaak Walton's narrative
of the death-bed delivery of the " little book,"
which was to be afterwards known as " The
Temple." Visited by a " Mr. Duncon " — of whom
it is pity we know so very little — he sent a pa-
thetic message to his "brother Ferrar," soliciting
a continuance of his " daily prayers " for him,-
and telling him all was " well" and in " peace."
" Having said this," we read, " he did, with so
sweet a humility as seemed to exalt him, bow
down to Mr. Duucon, and, with a thoughtful and
contented look, say to him, ' Sir, I pray deliver
this little book to my dear brother Ferrar, and
tell him he shall find in it a picture of the many
spiritual conflicts that have passed betwixt God
and my soul, before I could subject mine to the
will of Jesus my Master, in Whose* service I have
now found perfect freedom. Desire him to read
it: and then, if he can think it may turn to the
advantage of any dejected poor soul, let it be
made public ; if not, let him burn it ; for I and it
are less than the least of God's mercies.' Thus
meanly did this humble man think of this ex-
cellent book, which now bears the name of " The
Temple, or sacred Poems and Private Ejacula-
tions ; " of which Mr. Ferrar would say, " There
was in it the picture of a divine soul in every
page, and that the whole book was such a har-
mony of holy passions as would enrich the world
with pleasure and piety." Good Nicholas Ferrar
has further given his estimate of the " little
book " thus confided to him, in the golden Epistle
as from " The Printers to the Reader " (pp. 5-7).
It would appear that he lost no time after the
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. Ixvil
onrial of Herbert (3rd March, 1633) ' in pre-
paring it for the press ; for immediately the
manuscript, as written out for Ferrar, was sub-
mitted by him for " License " — now deposited in
the Bodleian.2 There was a little difficulty, and
consequent brief delay, in obtaining the neces-
sary authority, as thus told by "Walton, in its
statement, removal, and result : " This ought to
be noted, that when Mr. Ferrar sent this book to
Cambridge to be licensed for the press, the Vice-
Chancellor would by no means allow the two so
much noted verses (in the ' Church Militant,'
11. 239, 240),
' Religion stands a-tiptoe in oar land,
Ready to pass to the American strand,'
to be printed, and Mr. Ferrar would by no means
allow the book to be printed and want them ;
but after some time, and some arguments for
and against their being made public, the Vice-
Chancellor said : ' I knew Mr. Herbert well, and
know that he was a divine poet ; but I hope the
1 See pp. Ix. Ixi. for correction of 1632, the date hitherto given.
1 The following is its title-page literatim : —
W. BANCROFT.
The Original of Mr. George Herbert's Temple ;
as it was at first Licensed for the presse.
THE TEMPLE.
Psalm xxix. 8.
In his Temple doth enery man
speake of his honour.
THE DEDICATION.
Lord, my first fruits present themselves to thee ;
Vet not mine neither ; for from thee they came.
And mast returne. Accept of them and mee,
And make vs striae, who shall sing best thy Name.
Tnrne their eies hither, who shall make a gaine,
Theirs, who shall hart themselues or me, refraine.
B. LAXY PROCAX.
THO. BAIKBRIGO.
M WREX.
WILLIAM BEALB.
Tuo. FREEXAX. (pp. 1-290: Index at end: numbered 166.)
Ixviii MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
world will not take him to be an inspired pro-
phet, and therefore I license the whole book.' So
that it came to be printed, without the diminu-
tion or addition of a syllable since it was de-
livered into the hands of Mr. Duncon, save only
that Mr. Ferrar hath added the excellent preface
that is printed before it." The "after some
time " must have been very inconsiderable, seeing
that, almost certainly, "The Temple" was in
print and (at least) privately circulated in 1632-3.
At Brand's sale there was a copy with a second
title-page, which is described as having 16 *2
printed on it (Lowndes, s.n.) ; and I have my-
self seen two copies contemporaneously marked
1632 on the undated title-page.1
There are minute typographical differences in the
three original and early title-pages ; but collation
shows that the undated copies of 1632 and the first
dated edition of 1633 correspond, and are indeed
the same book throughout. The conclusion ac-
cordingly is, that the types were kept standing for
the first dated edition.2 But the second edition
of 1633 (so named), though answering page for
page and line for line, is a distinct impression,
i.e. was not the same setting up. In all likeli-
hood the undated copies consisted of a very few
1 Hence I have, in " Notes and Illustrations," designated the un-
dated edition of " The Temple " as of 1632-3, though it was really
1633. See the undated and dated title-pages at pp. 3, 4.
3 The Rev. J. Gregory Smith, M.A., Vicar of Great Malvern, in a
Paper on George Herbert and his Times, in the " Christian Re-
membrancer " for July, 1862 (vol. xliv. pp. 133-137), states : " ' The
Temple ' was first given to the world in 1633, by Nicholas Ferrar,
Herbert's literary executor ; under his editorship it WHS [n-intcd by
his daughters and other members of his household, or 'Protestant
Nunnery,' as it has been called, at Little Gidden, in Northampton-
shire, and then published at Cambridge, after being, of course, for-
mally licensed by the Vice-Chancellor's 'imprimatur '" (pp. l<»>-7).
There is no authority whatever for this alleged printing privately ut
Little Gidding. The undated copies are expressly stuted to be
" 1'rinted by Thomas Buck " (as supra). Curiously enough there is
no " imprimatur " in any of the editions of " The Temple."
MEluoKlAL-INTRODUCTION. Ixix
issued as gifts for intimate friends. Then came
later in 1633 the first edition proper, and then in
the same year the second (as above) : the third
followed in 1634; fourth in 1635; fifth in 1638;
sixth in 1641 ; seventh in 1656 ; eighth in 1660 ;
ninth in 1667 ; tenth in 1674 ; eleventh in 1679 ;
twelfth in 1703 ; thirteenth in 1709. The first to
the sixth edition's text remained the same: from
1640, "The Synagogue" of Christopher Harvey
accompanied " The Temple ; " from 1656 onward,
there were orthographical alterations ; in 1660
was " an Alphabeticall Table for ready finding
out chief places ;" in 1674 (see our preface) the
priceless gift of R. White's portrait of Herbert
first appeared; and also two (sorry) illustrations to
14 The Church Threshold," and " The Altar : " in
1679 began such corruptions of the text as " gore "
for "doore" in "The Thanksgiving" (1. 6), and
" My" for "Thy" (1. 29), and so increasingly ; the
loss being that Pickering (1835, 1838, &c.) reprinted
the vitiated text; and even Dr. George Macdonald
(in "Autiphon") did not detect the blunders.1
It adds to the significance of these multiplied
editions, that, earlier, the troubles of Charles I.
in Scotland, deepening into the clamour and
confusions of the Civil War — shadows of which
darkened portentously over the closing weeks of
Herbert's life — and, later, the profligacy and sen-
sualism of the Restoration and the reign of
Charles II. seemed to render it improbable that
a fit audience should be found, however " few,"
for, in relation to the Commonwealth, so churchly,
and, in relation to the Restoration, so pure and
true a book. I like to accept the fact, as de-
clarative of "hidden ones" who still clave to
the Lord, after the type of the olden revelation to
' •• Autiphon," pp. 190-1.
Ixx MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
Elijah of the " seven thousand," when he in
his anguish and loneliness imagined there was
not another besides himself who believed in the
One living and True God. When Walton first
wrote the life (or about forty years after Herbert's
death), " more than twenty thousand of them "
had been "sold since the first impression." Well-
thumbed and worn are the few copies of these
earlier editions that have come down to us. !
Lowly hands handled, lowly hearts received the
devout teaching ; and I do not doubt " The
Temple " helped many and many a pilgrim Ziou-
ward to " sing " when perchance only sobs and
groans had fallen. I do not know that it is need- 1
ful to record the numerous editions, complete and I
incomplete, from 1709 to 1876. They have nothing j
special about them : only be it ever remembered 1
that to William Pickering belongs the praise of I
having been the first to aim at a complete collec-
tion of the writings of George Herbert.
Returning now upon the MS. of " The Temple "
as " licensed," the printed text of 1632-3 corres-
ponds with it pretty closely, departures being
mainly orthographical. The manuscript cannot,
however, have been the " printer's copy," for it
is stainless and uncrushed, as well as occasionally \
differing in its readings. Being a folio, too, it
cannot have been the "little book" placed in Mr.
Duncon's hands by the dying poet. That, it is
to be feared, has irrecoverably gone, with many
other of the Little Gidding treasures of the
Ferrars. But of scarcely less interest is a MS.
now in the Williams Library, London, whence it
has been our privilege to draw so much hitherto
unknown imprinted poetry, English and Latin.
I must here describe the " little volume " (12mo.).
It records on the front fly-leaf that it was pre-
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
sented by Dr. Mapletoft to a Rev. John Jones (of
Sheephall, Herts), who was donor of very many
MSS. and books to the same library. Mr. Jones
has prefixed this note (in pencil) : " This book
came originally from the family of Little Gidding,
and was probably bound there. Q. whether this
be not the manuscript copy that was sent by Mr.
Herbert a little before his death to Mr. Nic. Fer-
rar. See Mr. Herbert's Life." l Again, on verso
of p. 101 is the following note : " The following
supposed to be Mr. Herbert's own writing. See
the records in the custody of ye University Orator
at Cambridge." With reference to the former
note, we can testify that the binding (plain brown
calf, with a single line of gold round the borders
and a double line of tooling) is self-evidently
amateur, and corresponds otherwise with other
Little Gidding books that I possess and have
seen. But as this volume does not contain one
half of the poems as published in " The Temple,"
Mr. Jones's query must be answered in the ne-
gative. It seems to have been an earlier form of
the manuscript. With reference to the latter
note, the suggested comparison with the Orator's
Books at Cambridge and my familiarity with
Herbert's handwriting, enable me to attest that
1 ;he whole of the latter portion is in his own auto-
graph ; while the earlier portion has a number of
:haracteristic corrections of the amanuensis' MS.2
1 So in the " Third Report of the Royal Commission on Historical
: 4 anusrripts," 1872, p. 368. The inscription is as follows : " Don. Jni
onet, Cler. & Mnseo V. Cl. D. H. M. Venantodun. qni ob. 1730."
'hat ix, " A gift to John Jones, Clerk, from the study (Library) of
>r H. Mapletoft, Huntingdon, who died 17:iO." For notices of the
'errars, mainly from Professor Mayor's " Nicholas Ferrar" (1856),
1 * onr annotated " Life of Herbert," by Walton (in vol. iii. of
'. W. L. edition) ; also of the Ma pie tufts. In our qoarto edition of
ie Forms (tbiii.) is given a foe-simile of the Williams MS., along
. ith Herbert's autograph, shewing his peculiar i (e), &c.
* In this Memorial-Introduction (I. Biographical) it is seen that
erbert signed " Harbert," and that bis name was to written co.i-
Ixxii MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
Our " Various Readings" from the William
MS. in Notes and Illustrations, and the six never
before-printed English sacred poems, with anothe
version of "The Song" for Easter, and th
" Passio Discerpta," — which may be inter)
as meaning the passion or redeeming love of th '
Lord Jesus, taken to pieces as one might a pn;
eiou-flower, petal by petal ; or, more freely, thai
the poet celebrates certain leading incidents i
the great and awful story; and " Lucus," — whic
may intend a sacred grove, with perhaps a sul
reference to the transfiguring light of the Divin
presence there, and so reminds of Phinea I
Fletcher's " Sylva Poetica," and Milton's later- ]
will certify of our rare good fortune in the dif I
covery or recovery of this "little book." It mufl
often and often have been handled by visitors <l
the Williams Library, but no one seems to havl
really read it until the present editor did so.
William Pickering was in ecstasies over his smal
" find" from Dr. Bliss, of " The Paradox" froi]
a Rawlinson MS., what would not his euthusias
have been over 'this treasure-trove ! Except t
further details of the contents of the MS. belo
more need not be repeated here, inasmuch as t
whole are given in their places.1
temporaneonsly : in other University MSS. he signs " IIerl>evt
and " Herbert :" in others (certainly his) the character of the \vriti
differs considerably from these and from the Williams MS. See <
xvard about a copy of King James's Works, alleged to huve belon|
to our successive Herberts.
1 See pp. 253-260 and 347-374. These further little particulars re
be recorded here. There comes first the tty-lcnf, with l he inscriptioi.
note on page xix. ; a second leaf, with Mr. Jones's pencil-in ••
fore; next the Dedication (six lines) ; the C'huivli-l'.'ivli, folios 1-
blank page, 14, and on verso lour lines headed " Pi'riri-;ui;.
folio 15, four lines heaift'd •' Supcrliminare," and on verso the Alii
then successively The Sacrifice, (olios II'.-^L' ; on verso The Thuu
giving to folio 23 ; The Second Thanksgiving [or The Keprisa
folio 24; on verso The Passion (two) to i'nlio LCi ; 01: verso tin
Friday; The Sinner, folio liii ; on verso Easter (two) to folio 27;
verso and folio 2f, Easter Wings; on verso Holy Baptisuie (two)
folio 29; on verso Love 1 and 2, to folio 30; The Holy C'omiuuui
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. Ixxiii
Of other two MSS. the reader will find a full
account in the Fuller Worthies' Library edition,
(vol. ii. pp. xxii.-xxx.), viz., a Latin translation
of the " Church Militant " in the Library of Dur-
ham Cathedral and a singular adaptation of the
entire poems for singing and praise.
II. The story of the I/ife, as revealing hit original
and ultimate character, public and private.
In delivering the " little book," to wit, a MS. of
" The Temple," it will be remembered the dying
Herbert used these remarkable words to his
visitor, Mr. Duncon : " Sir, I pray deliver this
little book to my dear Brother Farrer [Ferrar],
and tell him he shall find in it a picture of the
many spiritual conflicts that have passed between
God and my soul, before I could subject mine to
the will of Jesus, my Master : in Whose service
verso to folio 31 (No. I. of the new Poems) ; Church Mnsick, folio
32 ; > erso The Christian Temper (two) to folio 33 ; Prayer (three) to
folio 3d ; Imploiment verso to folio 36 ; verso Whi tsuinlny to folio ••! ;
Yerso and to folio 38 The Holy S<Tiptures, 1 and 2 ; verso Love, to
iulio 39 (No. II. of the new Poems) ; folio 39 to 40, Sinne ; verso
Trinity Sunday (two, latter No. III. of the new Pieces) to folio 40;
verso Repentance, to folio 41 ; verso Praise ; folio 42, Nature ; verso
Grace, to folio 43 ; folio 43, Mattens ; Even-song, fol.o 44 (No. IV.
of the new Poems) ; Christmas-day, folio 45 ; verso Church Monu-
ments, to folio 46; Frailty, folio 46 ; folio 47, Content, to folio 48;
Poetry, folio 48; verso Affliction, to folio 50; verso Humility, to
folio 51 ; verso Sunday, to folio 52 ; Jordan, folio 53; verso Denial!,
to folio 54 ; verso Ungratefnlnes, to folio 55 ; verso Imploiment, to
folio 56 ; A Wreath, folio 36 ; verso To all Angels and Saints, to folio
67 ; verso the Pearle, to folio 58 ; verso Teutation, to folio 59 ; verso
The World, to folio 60 ; folio 60, Coloss. iii. 3 ; verso Faith, to folio 61 ;
. Lent, folio 62 to 63 ; verso Man, to folio 64 ; Ode, folio 65 ; verso Afflic-
tion, to folio (56 ; Sinne, folio 66 ; verso Charmes and Knots, to folio 67 ;
verso I'nkindnes, to folio 68 ; verso Mortification, to folio 69 ; verso
I The Publican, to folio 71 : verso Prayer, to folio 72 ; verso Obediem e,
to folio 73; Invention, folio 74 ; verso Perfection, The Elixir, to folio
rso The Knell (No. V. of the new English Poems) ; Perse\er-
\ mace, folio 76 (No. VI. of the New English Poems) ; verso Death,
to folio 77; verso Doomsday, to folio 7« ; verso Judgment ; folio 79,
| Heaven; verso Love; folio 80 to 82 (1st page) blai., then The
Church Militant, verso to folio 89, including L'Envoy (N.M. 11. 2M9
240, are emphatically dot-marked with a heavy pencil); folios HK.I-
1<>1 blank ; mi verso Mr. Jones's pencil-note: Passio Discerpta, folios
102-107 ; verso to 119, Lucus ; verso and folios 120-129 blank.
Ixxiv MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
I have now found perfect freedom." There was
beautiful humility in this, but, like all genuine
humility, it rested on the deepest truth and
reality of personal experience. George Herbert
was perhaps at that moment, and from his induc-
tion to Bemerton, one of the holiest men in
Christendom and the most John-like spirit in the
Church of England, or in any Church. Never-
theless, it is to miss the teaching of his life as
well as the innermost meanings of his writings,
to forget " the many spiritual conflicts " comme-
morated in his poems, and the emphasis of the
" now" in his grateful as adoring profession, " in
Whose service I have now found perfect freedom."
That is to say, if, as I think, all must recognize
in George Herbert one whom we inevitably think
of as a St. John in his ultimate tenderness and
lovingness, equally must it be recalled that as,
until the grace and masterdom of The Master
transformed and transfigured him, St. John was
originally bold, proud, fierce, self-conscious, so
it was out of intense, prolonged, backsliding-
marked conflict, our Worthy became what he did
become, unworldly, humble, meek, gentle, tender,
holy: "my fierce youth" is his own confession
(136. The Answer). Izaak Walton did not know
the subject of his " Life " so well as he himself
did, or he never should have spoken of him as at
Westminster " natively " good and gentle. I can
accept nearly all his golden-mouthed biographer's
praise of him even thus early, when he tells us
that at school " the beauties of his pretty beha-
viour and wit shin'd and became s© eminent and
lovely in this his innocent age, that he peein'd to
be mark'd out for piety, and to have the care of
heaven and of a particular angel to guard and
• guide him." The power of his mother's example
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. Ixxv
and instruction repressed that inborn haughtiness
and lofty self-estimate which flashed out very
soon ; but the motherly power icas needed, there
were haughtiness and pride to be repressed. For
if we take note of young Master Edward's pre-
sumption in holding a " dispute " in Logic at the
University almost immediately on his entrance
there (twelfth or fourteenth year), there was still
more presumption in Master George while at
Westminster School answering and " reproving "
Andrew Melville for daring to condemn the ultra-
Ritualism of King James in his Royal Chapel.
As will appear, the renowned Divine and Scholar
was thus " reproved " by George Herbert in his
eleventh or twelfth year. Effrontery or impu-
dence is the only word for the like of that ; and
it is to be recalled, as symptomatic of the native
character — a character that showed itself similarly
and even more egregiously later. When in his
sixteenth year, a letter and double-sonnet are
extremely noteworthy and suggestive. It seems
clear that he was a versifier from a very early
date, probably as early as Abraham Cowley or
Pope was : and here is his verdict to his mother
on the poetry that was then being published : " I
fear the heat of my late ague hath dryed up those
springs by which scholars say the Muses use to
take up their habitations. However, I need not
their help* to reprove the vanity of those many
love-poems that are daily writ and consecrated
to Venus ; nor to bewail that so few are writ that
look towards God and Heaven. For my own
part, my meaning, deer mother, is, in these
sonnets, to declare my resolution to be, That my
poor abilities in poetry shall be all and ever con-
secrated to God's glory." This letter (of which
Walton gives only these sentences) was written
Ixxvi MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
" in the first year of his going to Cambridge,"
and the accompanying Sonnets "fora New Year's
gift." The "first year" was 1608, or say his six-
teenthyear; and if the phrase "poore abilities in
poetry " is a foil to the forwardness and froward-
ness of his eleventh or twelfth year, one has an
inevitable suspicion that it was only a phrase,
and that Master George regarded his Sonnets as
well worthy of being sent as a New Year's gift.
There certainly is thought in them and his abid-
ingly-characteristic quaintness of wording, while
the sentiment is admirable. This double-Sonnet
is such a land-mark in his life as to demand a
place here, that it may be studied :
" My God, where is that ancient heat towards Thee
Wherewith whole shoals of martyrs once did burn.
Besides their other flames ? Doth poetrie
Wear Venus' liverie, onely serve her turn ?
Why are not sonnets made of Thee, and layes
Upon Thine altar burnt ? Cannot Thy love
Heighten a spirit to sound out Thy praise
As well as any she ? Cannot Thy Dove
Outstrip their Cupid easilie in flight p
Or, since Thy wayes are deep, and still the same.
Will not a verse runne smooth that bears Thy name ?
Why doth that fire, which by Thy power and might
Each breast does feel, no braver fuel choose
Then that which one day worms may chance refuse ?
Sure, Lord, there is enough in Thee to drie
Oceans of ink ; for, as the Deluge did
Cover the earth, so doth Thy Majestie.
Each cloud distills Thy praise, and doth forbid
Poets to turn it to another use ;
Roses and lilies speak Thee, and to make
A pair of cheeks of them is Thy abuse.
Why should I women's eyes for crystal take ?
Such poor invention burns in their low minde,
Whose fire is wild, and doth not upward go
To praise, and on Thee, Lord, some ink bestow.
Open the bones, and you shall nothing finde
In the best face but filth ; when, Lord, in Thee
The beauty lies in the discoverie."
With reference to the sweeping condemnation
of the " Love-Poems " of the period, all familiar
with them must agree that the youthful Censor
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. Ixxvii
was not without warrant ; yet must it be kept
in mind that Edmund Spenser's " Six Books"
of " The Faerie Queene," with, for the first time,
" Two Cantoes of Mutabilitie," were at the very
time in the press of " H. L. for Matthew Lownes,"
while Michael Draytou's pure Poems, " newly
corrected by the author," bear the same date ;
and so with some of the supremest of the pro-
ductions of Shakespeare and Jonson and the
Elizabethan worthies ; while the alleged Love-
songs " daily writ and consecrated to Venus "
are unknown or slight in proportion. Then, in
respect of the " Resolution," when we come to
examine into its carrying out, there is disappoint-
ment. Years follow years, and while he found
time to go on with his " Epigrams-Apologetical "
in answer to " Anti-Tami-Cami-Categoria," one is
struck with the all but utter absence of Christian
thinking as of Christian feeling therein. He is
quick, keen, sarcastic, effective in unyielding de-
fence of ceremonial and rite and dignity ; but
there is scarcely a thrill of aspiration, scarcely a
recognition of the real end for which a Church
exists. So, too, with his "Epicidivm" celebra-
tion of Prince Henry. With such a nation-
stirring death for text, what a great poem-sermon
he might have preached ! It is as pagan as if it
had been written by Virgil or Horace, and more
sycophantic than ever were they to a Caesar.
Even as far on as 1627, when the " Parentalia "
appeared, there is wealth of filial veneration and
• filial sorrow over his illustrious lady-mother; but
there are the merest scintillations of Christian
faith and hope : precious scintillations, yet only
aggravating the general lack. The arfist excels
the poet, and the poet hides the Christian. I
cannot marvel that of the " Parentalia," as of
Ixxviii MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
the " Epigrams-Apologetical," even so revering
a friend as Archdeacon Barnabas Oley felt con-
strained to pronounce this judgment : " Those
many Latin and Greek versos, the obsequious
[— funereal] Pareutalia he made and printed in
her memory : which, though they be good, very
good, yet (to speak freely even of this man I so
much honour) they be dull or dead in comparison
of his Temple poems. And no marvel. To
write those, he made his ink with water of Heli-
con ; but these inspirations prophetical were dis-
tilled from above. In those, are weak motions
of Nature ; in these, raptures of grace ; in those
he writ [of] flesh and blood — a frail earthly wo-
man, though a mother ; but in these he praised
his heavenly Father, the God of men and angels,
and the Lord Jesus Christ his Master." Strongly
put, certainly, is this ; yet there is extremely
notable and extremely sad truth in it. Nor dors
it vindicate Herbert to allege that the mode of
the day was to imitate the classic writers, and so
to speak of God as Jove, and more than that, to
make Christians talk like heathens; for the gvticit-
men of our charge as the sting of our regret, not
to say wonder, is, that George Herbert should
not have risen above such mere classical ity,
especially in the celebration of his own saintly
lady-mother. I am compelled to look beneath
the logical inconsistency of all this with a really
Christian or Christ-tending life, to a still over-
mastering earthliness, even on the borders of the
change of changes. We may be very sure that
if his Christianhood had been all in all to him,
he would have contrived to make it give character
to his (then) writings, as Shakespeare has it of
Antony :
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
" His delights
Were Dolphin-like ; t key shotf'd his back above
The element they liv'd in."
Antony and Cleopatra, act r. «c. 2.
We are thus brought back to our starting-
point, viz., that of George Herbert, however true
of his ultimate character, it was untrue what
Walton says: " In. this morning of that short
day of his life, he seem'd to be mark'd out for
vertue and to become the care of heaven ; for God
still kept his soul in so holy a frame, that he may
and ought to be a pattern of vertue to all Pos-
terity." This is linked on to the letter and double-
ponnet; but the "holy frame" came very much
later; the "pattern" was not for posterity until
after " many spiritual conflict*" The " resolution"
of his sixteenth year was self-evidently overborne
by circumstances; and when circumstances over-
bear a man he proves himself to be weak, and not
free of blame. In accord with this is the double
set of facts, which must be weighed by all who
would understand the problem of this so unique
life and co-equally unique writings: (a) The re-
curring declaration of his intention to give him-
self to the service of the Church ; (6) The con-
temporaneous paying court to the Court, and
shouldering it with rivals to win political place.
(a) The recurring declaration of his intention to
give hiiwelf to the service of the Church. His " Let-
ters" (in F. W. L. vol. Hi.), as annotated, bring this
out strikingly. Thus, in one of probably many
to his stepfather (Sir John Dauvers), he tells,
with fine simpleness, of his book-hunger; and
one responds to it sympathetically as these words
are read and re-read : "I protest and vow I even
study thrift, and yet I am scarce able, with much
ado, to make one half year's allowance shake
Ixxx M EMORIAL-INTRODDCTION.
hands with the other ; and yet if a book of four
or five shillings come in my way I buy it, though
I fast for it; yea, sometimes of ten shillings ; but,
alas, sir, what is that to those infinite volumes of
Divinity, which yet every day grow and swell
bigger?" The closing allusion is interpreted by
the earlier appeal, the letter thus opening : " Sir,
I dare no longer be silent, lest while I think I am
modest, I wrong both myself and also the con-
fidence my friends have in me ; wherefore I will
open my case unto you, which I think deserves
the reading at the least ; you know, sir, how I am
now setting foot into Divinity, to lay the platform of
my future life, and shall I then be fain always to
borrow books, and build on another's foundation?
What tradesman is there who will set up without
his tools ? Pardon my boldness, sir, it is a most
serious 'case; nor can I write coldly on that
wherein consisteth the making good of my former
education, of obeying the spirit which hath guided
me hitherto, and of achieving my (I dare say)
holy ends." This was written on March 18, 1617.
In 1619 he is in hot pursuit of the office of public
orator, as looking to tread in the footsteps of its
previous occupants, Sir Robert Nauuton and Sir
Francis Nethersole. As we saw earlier, he used1
all means to interest any likely to be influential.
A hint from Sir Francis Nethersole reveals at
once the political aspiration and the underlying
and still unforsakeu resolution as to the Church.
Here is his message to his friend, again through
his stepfather : " I understand by Sir Francis
Nethersole's Letter, that he fears I have not fully
resolved of the matter, since this place, being
civil, may divert me too much from Divinity, at
which, not without cause, he thinks I aim ; but I
have wrote him back that this dignity hath no
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
such earthliness in it, but it may very well be
joined with Heaven ; or if it had to others, yet to
me it should not, for aught I yet knew ; aiid
therefore I desire him to send me a direct answer
in his next Letter." There spoke an uneasy con-
science. The parenthetic reservations " not with-
out cause " (even taken as merely an asseveration)
and " for aught I yet knew," are significant.
And so it was throughout. The intention was
to give himself to the Church ; but again and
again he swerved from it, again and again swung
between intention and resolve. Many of his
poems take a new and vivid meaning when read
in the light of this conflict ; so true, so lowly, so
wistful, so inestimable are their confessions —
worth a cartload of such unrealities as those of
Rousseau.
Weighing and reweighing what I have thus
far written, I have striven to convince myself
that I might withdraw my accusation (if it be
accusation) of " a lofty self-estimate " on George
Herbert's part. I cannot do so. But I do not
wish to be misunderstood, or to have the fact ex-
aggerated. I have no idea that, like Donne, he
was of those who, as Carlyle puts it, " go through
a mud bath in youth in order to come out clean."
But I may not forget the apostolic warning that
we must cleanse ourselves from all filthiness of
" the spirit" as well as of the flesh (2 Corinthians,
vii. 1). I am also satisfied of his humility in
other directions later, even of his humility by fits
and starts earlier, and that he really had dedi-
cated all his powers to their highest uses, what-
ever his way of life might be, at Court, or in the
University, or in the world. What I must re-
cognize is, that in his " fierce youth," while " eager,
hot, and undertaking," as he himself describes it,
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
he did " turn aside," did " neglect," and was
moved thereto by ambition in not a whit different
from his eldest brother Edward's, and a self-
estimate in not a whit less pronounced. Of
course it was impossible that a man of Herbert's
brain should not have known himself to be supe-
rior to the mass of those with whom he came into
contact, i. e. the mass of those of the same educa-
tion and opportunities with himself. His humility
therefore inevitably consisted, not in an undue
depreciation of himself in this respect (for that
had been falsehood, false-witness to what God
had made him), but in his judgment of others
whenever others were in other qualities superior
to him, and in his judgment of those really greater
than himself and of himself as compared to them,
and finally of his low state as compared with the
ideal and the infinite. Accordingly, in the closing
years, and after his "many spiritual conflicts,"
George Herbert, with all his high estimate of his
own intellect quoad others, was indubitably lowly,
even pathetically humble. But do not let us hide
the conflict, and victory so resulting. Summarily,
I find in his death-bed sayings and in various of
his poems a true humility and a deep-felt sen^1
of what he was in comparison with what he would
be and ought to be. His sense of unworthincss
is infinitely affecting, as revealed in his reluctance
to accept orders and Bemertou, and in his pros-
tration when ringing himself in there.
Subsidiary to, or parallel with this, is my
representation of his natural temperament. I am
aware that while the child is father of the man,
the father is not the man. Neither do I forget
that the period of puberty is a time of change
inwardly as well as in the body, i. e. morally and
physically. Consequently, I might have been
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. Ixxxiii
persuaded that the " native " gentleness which
Walton claims for Herbert as a youth was not
impossible in combination with the narrow-
mindedness or inherited belief of boyhood that
made him stand up against the venerable Melville
for what he believed to be the only truth, and
that while as a boy naturally gentle, the stronger
passions came later, and were then more hardly
mastered. But again I must confess, that his
whole bearing and the tone of the Epigrams-
Apologetical compel me to accept his own de-
scription of himself as " fierce " in youth and
impetuous, and that the gentleness was also
ultimate, not primary.
(I) The contemporaneous paying court to the
Court, and shouldering it with rivals to win political
place. "This is simple matter-of-fact. So far
from the office of public orator proving to be
higher and heavenlier in his hands as compared
with what it had been in the hands of others, the
most fervent admirer of the George Herbert we
all love and revere must sorrowfully admit, that
the public letters and orations of his predecessors
and successors compare favourably with his. Even
Sir Francis Nethersole stood forth in defence of
" the Truth," as he weened, against John Goodwin,
the theological controversialist. The public oc-
casions— historical — whereon he was called to
exercise his office gave him splendid opportuni-
ties for speaking " the truth ;" but he was dumb.
His letter to the king, on receiving that most
iguorant and worthless book, " Basilicon Doron,"
is a piece of contemptible flattery where flattery
was treason to the King of Kings — such as of old
drew forth the smiting question to Hezokiah,
" What have they seen in thine house ? " (Isaiah
xxxix. 4.) His " Orations" are mere elegant
Ixxxiv MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
nothings, without one gleam of the " heaven" he
named, and they are weighted with earthliuess.
Then there is the twofold fact of his desertion of
Cambridge and delegation of his office as public
orator to good Herbert Thorndike — wherefore ?
Because King James and the Court were at neigh-
bouring Royston, and he must be there too !
Walton's admirably honest words place this be-
yond doubt : " With this [the sinecure], and his
Annuity, and the advantage of his College and of
his Oratorship, he enjoyed his genteel humour for
clothes and Court-like company, and seldom looked
towards Cambridge, unless the King were /
but then he never failed s and at other times left
the manage of his Orator's place to his learned
friend Mr. Herbert Thorudike, who is now Pre-
bendary of Westminster."1
Even this is not all, nor the worst. In Bishop
Hacket's " Life" of the great Archbishop Williams,
we find this instance of what might be called
flunkeyism, and was certainly deplorable syco-
phancy when the sycophant was George Herbert :
" Mr. George Herbert, being Prelector in the
Rhetorique School in Cambridge, anno 1618,
passed by those fluent orators that domineered in
the pulpits of Athens and Rome, and insisted to
read upon an oration of King James, which he
analysed, showed the concinnity of the parts, the
propriety of the phrase, the height and power of
it to move the affections, the style utterly un-
known to the ancients, who could not concoivo
what kingly eloquence was, in respect of which
these noted demagogi were but hirelings and
1 En passant it may be noted that in Dean Duport's " Epk'ediii "
(Musae Subsecivae sen Poetica, 1676) is a Lament headed - In
obitum Viri oraiiifaria erurlitione instrnctUsimi, HIT >n-ti Thonidiki,
Cauoniri WettmnnMterieiuii et Collegii SS. Trinitiitis C'uut:'1'. mm
ita pridem Socii " (p. j'.'ii.
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. Ixxxv
iobolary rhetoricians " (Racket's " Life of Arch-
bishop Williams," part i. p. 175). * Eheu! eheu!
jfln connection with this I had hoped to be the
'possessor of George Herbert's copy of King
James's collective works. A copy of the folio of
1616, with a " George Herbert " written under-
neath other Herbert autographs on back of the
portrait, was kindly forwarded to me by Mr.
Thomas Kerslake, of Bristol; but it seemed to
me so comparatively eighteenth-century-like, and
so utterly unlike any one of his known autographs,
that I felt compelled to return it. I have rarely
met with so keen a disappointment ; for many
1 The adulation illustrated in the text is confirmed by Herbert's
royal poems. I add here a version of his epigram-Lines from Amos'
" Gems of Latin Poetry : "
" While Prince to Spain and King to Cambridge goes.
The question is, whose love the greater shows ?
Ours, like himself, o'ercomes, for his wit's more
Remote from ours than Spain from Britain's shore."
On this Dodd annotates as follows : " Herbert was Public Orator
when he presented this flattery to James. If his name were substi-
tuted for that of Bacon in the following epigram by Whaley, entitled
' Verses occasioned by reading Lord Bacon's flattery to King James
I.,' the reproof would be most applicable " (Whaley's Poems, 1745) :
" Ye, to whom Heaven imparts its special fires,
Whose breasts the wond'rous quickening beam inspires,
That sheds strong eloquence's melting rays,
Or scatters forth the bright poetic blaze ;
Look here, and learn those gifts how low alight
If conscious dignity guides not their flight ;
How mean, when human pride their service claims,
And "1 Herbert \ condescend8 to flatter James."
But it was the fashion to flatter in those days, and King James had
abundance of such incense offered to him, though, according to Ben
Jonson, it was impossible to /latter so perfect a monarch. The
dramatist addressed the following epigram " To the Ghost of Mar-
tial" (Ep. 36):
" Martial, thou gav'st far nobler epigrams
To thy Domitian than I can my James :
But in my royal subject I pass thee,
Thou flatteredst thine, mine cannot flatter'd be."
(DoDD's " Epigrammatists," p. 238.)
Verily, in Scott's words (though he himself paid like unworthy
homage to the ' Fourth George ") all this was " the immortal bow-
ing down to the mortal."
Ixxxvi MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
years having sought iu vain to secure a specimen!
of Herbert's handwriting.
It is no pleasure to me to bring out these facts u ||
it is a sorrow, a pain : nor do they abate my vene-1
ration for our Worthy ; neither do they, in my 'I
apprehension, go to lessen the potentiality and
blessedness of the example of his after-life as it
grew beautiful beneath the divine touch. Con- I
trariwise this double matter-of-fact is fitted to ]
yield at once encouragement to such as are fight-
ing to-day the same " spiritual conflicts," and ad-
monition that the best man is but a man at the
best, and the Christian just what the grace of
God creatively makes him ; while beyond is
greater glory to that grace which out of such
earthly and base elements fashioned so lovely
and lovable a nature. Lord Herbert of Cherbn ry
had sounded his younger brother's character
when he wrote of him in his autobiography :
" His life was most holy and exemplary ; inas-
much that about Salisbury, where he lived beue-
ficcd for many years [three only], he was little
less than sainted. He was not exempt from pas-
s-ion and choler, being infirmities to which all our
race is subject ; but, that excepted, without reprtxTh
in l>s actions." Izaak Walton also penetrated to
the heart of the matter, when, having told of the
" conflict," he added : " These were such conflicts
as they only can know that have endured them ;
for ambitious desires and the outward glory of
this world are not easily laid aside ; but at last
God inclined him to put on a resolution to serve
at His altar." Even so. There was " passion,"
there was "choler," there were " ambitious de-
sires," there were attractions even to seductive-
ness in " the outward glory " of the world, and
these born of a very lofty self-estimate ; so that
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. Ixxxvii
not of nature, but of divine masterdom, was the
tinal conquest gained. En passant, his ennobled
brother perchance had experienced from George
the " passion " and " choler " which he noted, in
his remonstrances with him about his speculative
theological-philosophical opinions. These words,
in " The Thanksgiving," seem to me to point to
his sceptical brother :
" My bosom. friend, if he blaspheme Thy name,
I will tear thence hit luve and fame."
The sharp discipline of frequent bodily ailments,
solitary retirements, loss of friends and patrons
(if any dared patronize him) on whom he leaned,
disappointment at the eleventh hour of " painted"
expectations, premonitions of a short life on earth,
and the inrush of the Spirit of God upon his soul,
in the last years, " changed," self-revealed, abased,
mellowed him. That deep lovingness of his
nature, which rises like incense from his private
letters to his mother and of his "sick sister"
Elizabeth — comparable with Gregory of Nyssa's
wistful affection for Macrina — and to others, was
dilated and sanctified by the supreme love ; and
henceforward George Herbert remained an ex-
ample and a trophy of the transforming grace of
God. No need of . ecclesiastical canonization.
The " three years " at Bemertou put better than
a nimbus around all.
I have dwelt thus on the story of the life as re-
vealing his original and ultimate character, public
and private, because the life cannot be understood
in what of deepest, and grandest was in it apart
from the facts, anil neither can the poems, in
what is finest, tenderest, truest, be understood
unless studied in the light and shadow of the life.
Let tl e reader read and read again and muse over
Ixxxviii MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
the heart-revelations of the poems, that the music
and subtle imaginativeness of them may the more
touch. I bring together a few scattered stanzas
that seem to me infinitely precious :
" How should I praise Thee, Lord ? how should my rymes
Gladly engrave Thy love in steel,
If, what my soul doth/eel sometimes,
My soul might ever feel 1 " 23. " The Temper."
" Were it not better to bestow
Some place and power on me ?
Then should Thy praises with me grow,
And share in my degree.
But when I thus dispute and grieve,
I do resume my sight ;
And pilfring what I once did give.
Disseize Thee of Thy ru/M.
How know I, if Thou shnuldst me raise,
That I should then raise Thee ?
Perhaps great plates and Thy praise
Do not so well agree." 68. "Submission."
" Joy, I did lock thee op, but some bad man
Hath let thee out again ;
Anil now, methinks, I am where I began
Sev'n years ago : one vogue and vein,
One aire of thonghts usurps my brain.
I did toivard Canaan draw, but now I am
Brought back to the Red Sea, the sea of shame."
98. " The Bunch of Grapes."
" things sort not to my will
Ev'n when my will doth stiidie Thy renown :
Thou turnest th' edge of all things on me still,
Taking me tip to throw me dnn-n :
So that, ev'n when my hopes seem to be sped,
I am to grief alive, to them as dead." 131. " The Crosse."
" O that I Once past changing were,
Fast in Thy Paradise, where no flower can wither ! "
132. " The Flower."
" When I had forgot my birth.
And on Earth
In delights of Earth was drown'd,
God took bloud, uml nerds w.mldbe
Spilt with me,
And so found me on the ground." 151. " The Banquet."
His first poem of " 16. Affliction " is faithfully
autobiographic throughout. So, too, " 62. The
Pearl," with its proud yet humbling recollection
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. Ixxxix
of the ways of learning, and the ways of pleasure
and the ways of honour, of love, of wit, of music,
which he " knew." Equally noticeable also is
"82. The Quip," where, personifying Beauty
Money, Glory, and Wit as successively assailing
him with raillery for his neglect of their fascina-
tions, he replies to each and all by turning to his
heavenly Master : " But Thou shalt answer, Lord
for me."
These and other poems of The Temple belong to
different years. Some probably were composed
contemporaneously with the double sonnet to his
mother ; others during his retirement in Kent ;
most, in all likelihood, at Bemerton ; the whole
are profoundly and blessedly real. They refer
mainly to his inner or spiritual life, and thus are
of rare experimental worth, and must so abide.
Looked at from either the human or the divine
side, the life of George Herbert seems to me of
inestimable value. He was thoroughly human ;
uo cloistered recluse, no visionary, no sentimental
bookworm, but " a man who combined with the
devotion and self-discipline of Thomas a Kempis
the accomplishments of a perfect gentleman, the
genial humour and shrewd practical sense of a
thorough man of the world." ' More than this ;
for even in his ultimate sanctity he was whole-
souled, whole-hearted, genial, and pleasant ; and
so " far from being a mere devotee, planted on
his solitary column in unnatural isolation, inac-
cessible to his fellow -men, he was emphatically a
man of social sympathies, sustained and directed
upwards by the entire devotion of his heart to
heaven, as the tendrils of a vine are taught to as-
cend by the elm round which it clings." * He
1 The " Christian Remembrancer," July, 1863, pp. 104, 105.
» Ibid. p. 111.
XC MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
loved to watch 'the " quidquid agunt " of men,
their business and pleasures, not with the con-
temptuous indifference of a Stoic or Epicurean,
but as being all, if duly regulated, component parts
in the order and beauty of the universe. Gifted
himself with rare natural advantages, he neither
neglected nor* misused them. He was at home
with the humblest, and equally at home with the
highest ; he could soothe the temporal anxieties
and minister to the spiritual yearnings of his
lowliest parishioners, and at the same time with
all mannerly courtesy " rebuke" the most eminent.
Walton tells us of the poor widow who touched
his heart with her little simple story ; while Oley
writes, " There was not a man in his way, be he
of what rank he would, that spoke awry in order
to God, but Herbert would wipe his mouth [!]
with a modest, grave, and Christian reproof."
As we think, perhaps, there was a leaven of super-
stitious clinging to mere ecclesiasticism ; yet
were his " Friday, as a day of mortification and
humiliation," and " saints " bell [sanctus-bell]
ringing to daily prayers "at the canonical hours
of ten and four," whereby men " would leave their
plough to rest awhile, that they might offer their
devotions to God with him and then return to
their work," and habitual " fasting," transfigured
by their genuineness to him. Moreover, as we
are anxious should be remembered, notwithstand-
ing his intensity of disciplined devotion, he \v;ts
on all sides human and a " good citizen." It
does one good — like a full-inhaled draught of sea-
air after the exhaustion of a thronged drawing-
room — to read and re-read the genial, frank,
plain-spoken, thoroughly fresh and real moralis-
inge of Herbert. Thus, has he to rebuke the
young nobility for " idleness " as the " great
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. XOl
national sin of the times," how does he set about
it? By no mere sentimentalisms, but by pre-
scribing manly occupations. He recommends
them to learn farming ; to act as magistrates ; to
study civil law ; the bases of international rela-
tions, and therefore especially useful to statesmen
and diplomatists ; to improve themselves by
travelling abroad, with all their wits about them ;
" to ride the great horse," that is, to acquire the
accomplishments of the tilt-yard — the last assur-
ing us that to-day he would have added the rifle
corps to his roll. His wisdom is not of a monastical
order. On the other hand, it is far removed from
the sharp practice of mere worldlings. It is like
the prudential maxims of the Book of Proverbs
and Ecclesiastes (and Ecclesiasticus), the paral-
lelism of duty with expediency. The Church
Porch reminds us of the best parts of Horace's
satires, not less by its " pedestrian muse " than
by its shrewd wit and gracious pleasantry. It
abounds in pithy sayings, such as may give a man
not the manners only, but the principles and
feelings of a true gentleman — meet follower
of Him " the first true gentleman that ever
breathed." Beneath the lighter raillery too, lies a
deep vein of sentiment, the utterances of which
sound like the voice of that great and wise king,
who tried all things under the sun (not above
the sun) and found them vanity. This Shake-
spearian element, found in Hamlet and Henry of
Agincourt, whereby the ntter nothingness of
even the greatest affairs of this life, in one point
of view, does not the less affirm the immeasurable
importance of even the most insignificant, as
formative of the moral destiny, well deserves
thinking out. " It is characteristic of him," says
the "Christian Remembrancer" (as before, p. 121),
xcii MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
" that he translated the sensible little treatise
on " Temperance and Sobriety " of Ludovicus
Coruarus, known to Italian scholars as Luigi
Cornaro, of Padua ; a delightful sketch of a hale
and hearty old age, with rules for attaining it."
Further : " Herbert seems to have had a pecu-
liar aptness, both by nature and education, for
casuistry ; not for hair-splitting and sophistries,
but for the ' noble art,' as he rightly calls it, of
solving the perplexing cases of conscience which
occur every day. His way of cutting these knots,
or rather of disentangling them, is thoroughly
English. It is the evidence of a healthy moral
sense, practised in logic, but with its own un-
erring instincts uublunted." .... " His ' pro-
verbs,' some apparently his own, others merely
collected by him, which the reader will find
among his prose works, under the title of ' Jacula
Prudentum,' leave hardly anything in life un-
touched."
But while Herbert's humanness lies as well in
the innermost of him as on the surface, the divine
side of his life is very notable. If he mingled
with his fellow-men, as recognising that the work
and excellence of man lies in the world and not
out of it, and has a fruition in this life, though
not only in this life, his supremest hours were
those passed under the shadow of the Divine Pre-
sence in his praying-chamber study. Whether
playing his lute alone or for a gathered company
of his parishioners — as finely told by Walton — or
footing it to Salisbury to be rapt heavenward by
the cathedral music — as also told by Walton — he
was still the " man of God." Certainly a life like
this is worthy of the deepest and most earnest study
— a life " in which work and rest, self-discipline
and natural impulse, secular duties and heavenly
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. xciii
aspirations, are blended into harmonious unity,
as in one of those rich strains of music, now grave,
now joyous, but always duly measured, which he
loved to follow ; a life in which the coarser threads
of existence are inextricably intertwined with and
transfigured by the radiance of the more ethereal
filaments ; in which the calmness and equanimity
which the Roman poet vainly longed for seems
attained ; as the highest and. most complete
development of human nature possible 011 earth.
Monastic seclusion may secure peace by eliminat-
ing the elements of discord. ' They make desola-
tion and call it peace.' A life like Herbert's calls
into action all the component parts of our organ-
ization, and consecrates them severally to their
appointed use." ! In nothing does the soundness
and wholesomeness of our worthy's religion more
delightfully reveal itself than in his " Sunday ; "
so radiant and joyous, equally free from the in-
trusion of worldly cares and occupations and the
vacuity and sombreuess of literal Sabbatarianism.
Similarly noticeable is his freedom from mere
pious phrases and conventionalisms of theology.
Turn we next to
m. The Anli-Tami-Cami-Categoria controversy,
and its significance and bearings.
From the historic memorableness of the petition
of the Puritans which Melville defended ; from the
prominence and praise given to the "Epigrams- Apo-
logetical " of Herbert in answer, and the censure of
the illustrious Scotchman stereotyped in Walton's
" life " — his " praise " of the first edition being
cancelled in the after ones, and so continued ; and
from the important place among Herbert's poems
which the originals and our translations must
' The " Christian Remembrancer," as before, p. 119.
xciv MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
henceforth hold — it is laid upon us to discuss this
matter thoroughly, especially as it must be re-
membered that in his latest poem (" The Church
Militant ") Herbert flouts the Puritans and the
Reformation, thus linking on his earlier with his
later opinions, as we shall see.
Walton thus narrates the facts — as he cared to
know them — of the controversy with Andrew
Melville, — whose Latinised name was "Melvinus"
(or Melvin) : " The next occasion he had and took
to show his great abilities, was with them to show
also his great affection to that Church in which he
received his baptism, and of which he professed
himself a member ; and the occasion was this :
there was one Andrew Melvin [be it intercalated
that ' one John Milton ' was so spoken of], a
minister of the Scotch Church and rector of St.
Andrews, who, by a long and constant converse
with a discontented part of that clergy which
opposed episcopacy, became at last to be a chif
leader of that faction ; and had proudly appeared
to be so to King James when he was but king of
that nation ; who, the second year after his
coronation in England, convened a part of the
bishops and other learned divines of his Church
to attend him at Hampton Court, in order to a
friendly conference with some dissenting brethren,
both of this and the Church of Scotland : of which
Scotch party Andrew Melvin was one ; and he
being a man of learning, and inclined to satirical
poetry, had scattered many malicious bitter verses
against our liturgy, our ceremonies, and our
church government ; which were by some of that
party so magnified for the wit, that they were
therefore brought into Westminster school, where
Mr. George Herbert then, and often after, made
such answers to them, and such reflections on
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. XCV
him and his kirk, as might unboguile any man
that was uot too deeply pre-engaged in such a
quarrel. But to return to Mr. Melvin at Hamp-
ton Court conference : he there appeared to be a
man of an unruly wit, of a strange confidence, of
PO furious a zeal, and of so nngoverned passions,
that his insolence to the king and others at this
conference lost him both his rectorship of St.
Andrews and his liberty too ; for his former
verses and his present reproaches there used
against the church and state caused him to be
committed prisoner to the tower of London,
where he remained very angry for three years.
At which time of his commitment he found the
Lady Arabella Stuart an innocent prisoner there ;
and he pleased himself much in sending the next
day after his commitment there two verses to the
good lady, which I will under-write, because they
may give the reader a taste of his others, which
were like these :
' Cansa tihi meonm est commnnis carceris ; Ara-
Bella tibi causa est, Araqoe sacra mihi.'
I shall not trouble my reader with an account of
his enlargement from that prison, or his death ;
but tell how Mr. Herbert's verses were thought
so worthy to be preserved, that Dr. Duport, the
learned Dean of Peterborough, hath lately col-
lected and caused many of them to be printed, as
an honourable memorial of his friend Mr. George
Herbert and the cause he undertook." Further :
" I have but this to say more of him, that if
Andrew Melvin died before him, then George
Herbert died without an enemy."
Dear as are "meek" Walton's name and
memory, the truth must at long-last be told, and
this mingle-mangle of unhistoric statement and
xcvi MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
mendacious zeal exposed. There are nearly as
many blunders as sentences in the narrative, and
the animus is as base as the supercilious ignorance
is discreditable. Alas that I must say these
" hard things " of anything from the pen of one
I so revere (substantially) ! Alas that they should
be true !
To begin with, the facts are jumbled, and I
shall call one to give them accurately who will
not be appealed from by any capable reader, — the
pre-eminently judicial and candid Dr. Thomas
M'Crie, in his incomparable " Life of Andrew
Melville" (1856: " Works," vol. ii.). In c. viii.
1603-8 he thus writes : " The ministers of Scot-
land waited with anxiety to see how James would
act towards that numerous and respectable body
of his new subjects who had all along pleaded for
a farther reformation in the English Church. From
this they could form a pretty correct estimate of
the line of conduct which he intended to pursue
with themselves. Before the death of Elizabeth
he had sounded the dispositions of the Puritans.
They were universally in favour of his title ; and
there is no reason to doubt that he gave them
hopes in the event of his accession. When he
was on his way to London they presented to him
a petition, commonly called, from the number of
names affixed to it, the Millenary Petition ; statiivg
their grievances, and requesting that measures
might be adopted for redressing them, and for
removing corruptions which had long been com-
plained of by the soundest Protestants. No
sooner was this petition presented than the two
universities took the alarm. The University of
Cambridge passed a Grace, 'that whosoever op-
posed, by word, or writing, or any other way, the
doctrine or discipline of the Church of England,
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. xcvii
or any part of it, should be suspended, ipso facto,
from any degree already taken ; and be disabled
from taking any degree for the future.' The
University of Oxford published a formal answer
to the petition, in which they accused those who
subscribed it of a spirit of faction and hostility to
monarchy, abused the Scottish Reformation, lauded
the government of the Church of England as the
great support of the Crown, and concluded with
this very modest declaration : ' There are at this
day more learned men in this kingdom than are
to be found among all the ministers of religion
in all Europe besides.' These proceedings were
not only injurious to several respectable members
of both universities, who were known to have
taken part in the petition, but disrespectful to the
king, who had received it, and promised to inquire
into the abuses of which it complained. Melville
felt indignant at this prostitution of academical
authority, and attacked the resolutions of the
English University in a satirical poem which he
wrote in defence of the petitioners. The poem
was extensively circulated in England, and galled
the ruling party in the Church no less than it
gratified their opponents."
The " satirical poem" was the " Anti-Tami-
Cami-Categoria," which was published in 1604;
so that as it came to Westminster School, " where
Mr. George Herbert then was," on publication, we
have the most illustrious scholar of his age, the
coequal of Casaubon and the associate of every
man of mark on the continent of Europe, assailed
by this stripling of eleven or twelve (b. 1593) ;
and not him alone, but the venerable ministers
of the Church of England, headed by the great
and good Arthur Hildersam and Stephen Eger-
ton, and in the roll of 750, really including the
xcviii MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
flower of the Church, with tens of thousands of
the people at their back. Dr. Busby had had
something very different from "praise " for Master
George if his epigrams, " THEN and often after,'"
had come under hi# eyes. Nor may it be alleged
as obviating criticism and condemnation, that
Herbert was young, and as yet a believer in what
he had been brought up, and a believer, therefore,
in the falsehood of everything opposed to his
belief. Neither will it do to claim that Herbert
was not answering Melville as a theologian, but
simply answering a satirical poem by satire.
With reference to the former, his " Epigrams-
Apologetical " was no boyish episode, but of the
very substance of his life-long beliefs. Moreover,
it is plain that he left behind him a carefully pre-
pared manuscript of the whole ; for Dean Duport's
text (1662) is of special accuracy, and complete.
With reference to the latter, the reader will at
once discern that the churchman (if not the theo-
logian) dominates the satirist. The satire is tooth-
less and mild ; the dogma absolute and narrow ;
charity absent utterly, and equally so the respect
for others' convictions which is based on self-
respect. Be it remembered likewise that (1) the
petition of the " evangelical ministers was not
the petition of later nonconformity (or dissent),
but of the most venerable men of his own church ;
(2) That in "The Church Militant" — as noted
in the outset — he has a fling at "the Reforma-
tion," as thus :
" The late Reformation never durst
Compare with ancient times and purer yeares,
Bat in the Jews and us deserveth tears."
"Tears!"
Turning to " Anti-Tami-Cami-Categoria" itsflf,
it is very much a pungent and memorable putting
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. xcix
of the objections arid reforms of the " petition."
The humble suit to the king was that " of these
offences following, some may be removed, some
amended, some qualified." I limit myself to
those " in the Church-service :" " That the cross
in baptism, interrogatories ministered to infants,
confirmations, as superfluous, may be taken away.
Baptism not to be ministered by women [mid-
wives], and so explained. The cap and surplice
not urged. That examination go before the com-
munion. That it be ministered with a sermon.
That divers terms of priests, and absolution, and
some other used, with the ring in marriage, and
other such like in the book, may be corrected.
The longsomeness of service abridged. Church
songs and music moderated to better edification.
That the Lord's Day be not profaned. The rest
upon holidays not so strictly urged. That there
may be an uniformity of doctrine prescribed. No
popish opinion to be any more taught or defended.
No ministers charged to teach their people to
bow at the name of Jesus. That the canonical
Scriptures only be read in the church." I add
only, " for Church discipline " — " That the oath,
ex officio, whereby men are forced to accuse them-
selves, be more sparingly used:" of which Lord
Burghley thus wrote to Archbishop Whitgift :
" Now, my good lord, by chance I have come to
the sight of an instrument of twenty-four articles
of great length and curiosity, formed in a Romish
style, to examine all manner of ministers in this
time, without distinction of persons, to be exacted
ex offido mero . . . These I have read, and found
so curiously penned, so full of branches and cir-
cumstances, that I think the inquisitions of Spain
use not so many questions to comprehend and in-
trap their preys" (Fuller, " Church History ").
C MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
to
With the knowledge that all these things were
in the peti^u, it is an outrage and an imperti-
nence that Herbert should systematically conceal
the fact, and throughout answer " Anti-Tami-
Cami-Categoria," as if its objections and demands
for " Eeformation " were the crotchets of au in-
dividual, and that individual an exceptionally
bigoted and blind opponent of episcopacy. But
the thing grows blacker and unworthier still when
the petition, with Melville's defence of it, is
examined in the light of contemporary events and
circumstances. Herbert found it easy to raise
the loud laugh against the (imagined) morbid
narrowness that took exception to the sign of the
cross, to the sacerdotal distinction between clergy
and laity, to the claim of a " priesthood," to the
accompanying vestures of cap and surplice, the
substitution of singing (= intoning, I imagine)
for articulate speech that all could hear and know,
and all the rest of it, on to sacramentarianism in
acts that were not sacramental. It was easy also
to crack small jests on the "parity" of the mem-
bership of the church or kirk (Kappa, in Scot-
land preferred to Chi, as Drummond of Haw-
thornden played on it), and the conscientious pro-
test against law -made offices and officials of which
the Word of God made no mention. I am free to
concede that there was a certain narrowness, just
as I must believe that " narrow " (strait) is the
gate and the way. I am free, too, to admit that
at this late day, cap of college and surplice and
other episcopal vestures and vestments are in-
offensive. I am free even to allow that in the
mouth of George Herbert ultimately the name
"priest" meant no derogation to Him the One
Priest. Let these be granted ; yet let us strenu-
ously and in charity try to get at the motives and
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. Cl
the conscience of the petitioners and of such a man
as Andrew Melville.
What, then, was their standing-ground ? It
was this, that they were brought face-to-face
every day, all over England, with so absolute an
ignorance among the great bulk of the people of
what really Christianity was, as to " constrain "
them by every means available to teach and
preach the simple Gospel. The reader must get
away behind the mists of intervening centuries,
and actualise to himself how utter was the dark-
ness of England, and how very little the recent
and relatively brief ascendancy of Protestantism
had as yet served to disperse that darkness.
Everywhere the masses were sunk in superstition.
Witchcraft was still a terror; fairies real exist-
ences ; moor and mountain peopled with un-
earthly mythology. Going with their sheep over
the downs, or with their wool to market, they
appealed to the tutelar saints of their several
parish churches. " Good St. Catherine, stay my
oxen ! " would a farmer cry, when in chase of his
straying cattle over Salisbury Plain. The drover
prayed to St. Anthony. As the pack-horses came
sliding and stumbling with obstreperous jingle
down the chalk hill-side, the men in charge would
invoke the aid of St. Loy. Not only did they
appeal to dead saints, but to graven images. In
Herbert's own Wiltshire, while he was entering
his vicarage of Bemerton (in 1631), Mr. Sherfield
(a friend of Joseph Alleine) having long observed
" many people " pause and bow before a window
in the parish church at Salisbury, asked them
why they did BO : " Because the Lord our God is
there," was the reply. On looking more closely
into the glass, " all diamonded with quaint de-
vice," he found that it contained seven representa-
cii MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
tions of God the Father, in the form of a little old
man with a blue and red coat, with a pouch on
his side (Bushworth's " Collections," vol. ii. p. 153).
This was in the diocese which had so long been
illumined with the presidency of men like Jewell
and Davenant ; and if here so much ignorance
prevailed, how great would be the darkness else-
where ! If only we will do by others as we would
have others do by us, a thoughtful consideration
of FACTS like these, will reveal to us a spiritual
meaning, and dignity, and allegiance to the Lord,
and an awful sense of responsibility to Him, in
most of the opinions of the Puritans, which wear
to-day a look of the merest fantastique of scrupu-
losity. A living historian, not a theologian or
ecclesiastic-official, has said on this : " The sur-
plice was the recognized symbol of the priestly
character, and might have a tendency to recall
the doctrine of a merely human intercessor stand-
ing between God and man. The cross in baptism
and the consecrated font might, they said, easily
bring back with them the exorcisms accompanying
the rite of baptism in Koman Catholic churches.
The observance of saints' days might suggest the
adoration held to be due to those saints. Kneel-
ing at the Communion had its tacit reference to
the conversion of the consecrated wafer. To
retain these ceremonies, it was agreed, even were
they innocent in themselves, was extremely dan-
gerous to the English Church, which had so
recently emerged from Romanism." ' It suggests
much that is sorrowful and bewildering, that
only a few miles off George Herbert had no sym-
pathy with such intensity of conviction, such
" holy fear ;" nothing but admiration for the
Church, and flouting and scorn for the Puritans.
1 J. L. Sttuford's " Studies of the Great Rebellion," p. 67.
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. ciii
All the more saddening is this in our knowledge
that iii part from the misfortune of circumstances,
but in part also from proclaimed and enforced
usages, " the Flock" of God went, uncared for —
the under-shepherds largely actualisiug the mourn-
ful prophetic-portraitures of Ezekiel — albeit it is
the glory of George Herbert that he was com-
petent amid abounding incompetence, and faith-
ful amid mere officialism. A " preaching minis-
try" was an exception. Elizabeth had said, " It
is good for the world to have few preachers —
three or four may suffice for a county, and the
reading of the Homilies is enough." The calm-
judging Selden, speaking of the clergy, says,
' they were ignorant and indolent, and had no-
ihing to support their credit but beard, title, and
labit" (" History of Titles," preface, p. i. ; 1618).
Milton, in " Lycidas," utters a like complaint
1637). Richard Baxter, writing of Shropshire
in the days of his boyhood — that is, about 1620
and ten years after — says, " There was little
areaching of any kind, and that little was rather
calculated to injure than to benefit. In High
Ercall there were four readers in the course of
BIX years ; all of them ignorant, and two of them
.mrnoral men. At Eaton Constantino there was
a reader of eighty years of age, Sir William
Rogers, who never preached; yet he had two
livings, twenty miles apart from each other. His
sight failing, he repeated the prayers without
tlio book ; but to read the lessons he employed a
common labourer one year, a tailor another ; and
at last his own son, the best etage-player and
gamester in all the country, got orders, and sup-
plied one of his places. Within a few miles
round were nearly a dozen ministers of the same
description ; poor ignorant readers, and most of
civ MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
them of dissolute lives." l Gearge Wither was
roused to denounce these " unprofitable ser-
vants:"
" In their poverty they will not stick
For catechising, visiting the sick,
With suchlike duteous works of piety
As do belong to their society ;
But if they once but reach a vicarage,
Or be inducted to some parsonage,
Men must content themselves, and think it weft
If once a month they hear the sermon bell."
("Britaine's Remembrancer," 1628.)
Such was the RULE, and it is of rule we are now
speaking, not of a few, a very few, brilliant ex-
ceptions.
Looking now into " Anti-Tami-Cami-Categoria"
and the " Epigrams-Apologetical," one is almost
stung into indignation, were it not for sorrow
that the offender should be George Herbert.
There are incidental acknowledgments by him
of the weight and worth of Andrew Melville, a
sense of the impudence of such frivolous smart-
ness, as addressed to one white-haired and re-
nowned over Europe, a twinge of conscience as
aware of misrepresentation of good and true men,
and a tacit plea of necessity laid upon him to de-
fend the Church at all hazards. The reader will
judge : but for my part it broadens out what
grace did for George Herbert to find epigram on
epigram and classic verse on verse, without
almost one articulate word for the Master he
later so served and loved. There is superfluous
1 Orme's "Life of Baxter," vol. ii. p. 3; Fuller, sub anno 1630
Rushworth, vol. i. part ii. p. 150. Besides these, many uuthoritiej
have been consulted in preparing this section of our Essay : I name*
Rev. O. O. Perry's " History of the Church of England" and Hop
king's" History of the Puritans" (Boston, U. 8. 1860) ; and Qeorgf
Roberts's " Social History of the Southern Counties." I have drawi
much, and often in his own choice words, from my dearly belovec
friend. Rev. Churles Stanford's " Joseph AlU-iur, his Companion)
and Times" (London. 1661, Hoddtrj. bet- especially pp. ci. ct seq.
I
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. CV
laudation of the Bride, but what of the Bride-
groom ? Insinuation and invective against the
Puritans, but not a " jot or tittle" for the grand
work they had done and were doing! Clever
hits, inuendoes, puns, contemptuousness ; but
nothing of the " charity that thinketh no evil."
"Cap and bell" jingling; little of the hush of
reverence and awe before Spirit-boru convictions.
Homage to ideal bishops, but ignoble silence on
that " pride of prelates " which made so many of
them at the period scornful of a bishop's truo
work — a pride and scorn which roused our own
William Wordsworth to pronounce the same ver-
dict with " Anti-Tami-Cami-Categoria," as wit-
ness in his great Ecclesiastical Sonnets (xviii.) :
CORBUPTIO.VS OF THE HlOUCB CLEROY.
" Woe to yon. Prelates 1 rioting in eas«
And cumbrous wealth — the shame ol'y.iur estate ;
Y»u on whose progress dazzling trains await
Or pompous houses ; whom Tain titles please ;
Who will be served by others on their knees.
Vet will yourselves to God no service pay ;
Pastors who neither take nor point the way
To Heaven ; for either lost in vanities
Ye have no skill to teach, or if ye know
And speak the word — Alas ! of fearful things
'Tis the most fearfnl when the people's eye
Abuse hath clear'd from vain imaginings;
And taught the general voice to prophesy
Of Justice arm'd, and Pride to be laid low."
Andrew Melville probably never read a line of
the epigrams of George Herbert ; for he died in
1622, and they did not appear in print until 1662 ;
but if he had, how the noble old man, with
that high genius and scholarly culture of his,
would have crushed as a limpet in the shut palm,
the elegant trifles of his assailant ! Nay, rather
let us say, if they had met Below, as beyond all
doubt they met Above, the " young disciple "
h
cvi MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
should have been drawn to the patriarch. For,
once met, how soon should a living poet's words
have been fulfilled :
" We have one God, one Christ, one home,
One love ; and lighter than the foam
Is the one element of strife
That separates our way of life ;
And O, 1 love you still
Through all the good and ill."
The closing address to Melville (pp. 331-2) war-
rants this " pleasure of imagination."
The headings and margin-references of Her-
bert's successive pieces show that he intended to
reply seriatim to Anti-Tami-Cami-Categoria. It
can scarcely be required that I examine all ; but
a few central truths must be brought out as
against the epigram play on them.
The Petitioners and Melville, and the Puritans
generally, never called their " pastors," in dis-
tinction from other Christians, " priests " or
" clergymen." " A priest," said LatimeV, " im-
porteth a sacrifice." It was a commonplace with
the Puritans. In their opinion, the only sacri-
fices accepted under the Gospel are the sacrifices
offered by all believers: so, amongst the followers
of Christ, the people are the priests (1 Peter ii. 5).
Even " clergyman," if used at all, had, by thp
same Scripture rule, the same wide meaning.
" Poor men," said Henry Jessey (Preface to Life,
1672), addressing Episcopalian ministers in re-
ference to the members of their communion, " are
;you the clergy, and not they ? Bead 1 Peter v. 3 ;
' not as lords over God's clergy " (K\i'ipav). Are
they the laity, and not you ? Read Romans ix.
25, ' I will call them my laity ' (Xctoj' fiov)." Out
of such interpretations of texts — and who may
controvert them? — relating to the priesthood,
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. cvii
sprang that dislike of priestlyt vestments which
sometimes startles us by its force. Mitre, crosses,
hood, surplice, cap, were all denounced as " in-
struments of a foolish shepherd," only because
they were the symbols of a priestly caste (Vava-
sor Powel). Similarly they had much to say as
to no fixed forms of prayer, as to non-observance
of saints' days, as to legal rights and ceremonies
and symbolisms, — however lovely in themselves,
— and even for their refusal of religious reverence
for the mere fabric in which worship was offered.
In regard to the last, few among them would or
could have carried these principles farther than
was taught in the Homily " Against peril of
idolatry, and superfluous decking of churches,"
nor than Bishop Jewell, who wrote " My little
children, saith St. John, deeply considering the
matter, keep yourselves from images or idols.
He saith not now, keep yourselves from idolatry,
as it were from the service and worshipping of
them, but from the, very shape and likeness of
them. . . . Think you the persons who place
images or idols in churches and temples take
good heed to St. John's counsel?"
How poor are the shifts of Herbert, as of Dean
Duport, may be seen by this, that the former in
" answering " Melville's enumeration of illus-
trious worthies and scholars who adhered to the
Reformation, can only name the Apostles Peter
and Paul, Constantino, St. Augustine, St. Am-
brose, Duns Scotus and King James ! ! ! while
Duport (as well as Herbert) actually deems it a
clever and a wise thing to retort " wantonness "
and insinuate wickedness, because Melville's
" Anti-Tami-Cami-Categoria " was composed in
Sapphics ; as though the (imagined) character
cviii MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
of Sappho transmitted itself to the verse named
after her, and while a schoolboy could recall
Sapphics by masters of all verse. Duport's " In
Andream Melvinum Scotum de sua Anti-tami-
cami-categoria, Sapphico versu conscripta," is
given in his Sylvarum (lib. i. p. 70), and " In
Andream Melvinum Scotum in Ecclesiam Angli-
canam Sapphico carmine debacchantem " (lib, ii.
p. 226). The latter must suffice here :
" Mome Anglicanam vellirans Ecclesiam,
Cur Lesbium, Melvine, tendis barbiton,
Satyramque verso scribis acrem Sapphico?
Lascivi hoc aniiou carmen index ingeni ?
Meretricione proteri hoc ergo pede
Matrona casta sponsaqae haec meruit Dei ?
Decimane Musa nunc tibi, invitis novem,
Snccarrit, apta tarn protervo scnmmati,
Dignum patella operculem, Sappho procax ?"
(Musae Subsecivae, 1676.)
I must add here that Dean Duport furnishes
much better and worthier parallels with Herbert.
Walton's further references, with the couplet
to Lady Arabella Stuart and Melville's imprison,
ment in the Tower, must not tempt us to " turn
aside " to discuss them.1 All I ask is, that the
reader will give some thought to what has been
submitted by us, and bring knowledge and self-
knowledge, not ignorance ; and candour, not pre-
judice ; and Christianhood, not ecclesiasticism,
to the study of the Anti-Tami-Cami-Categoria of
Andrew Melville and to the Epigrams-Apologeti-
cal of George Herbert and of Dean Duport.2
Once more, the problem of George Herbert's
Life will not be mastered unless his attitude in
1 See annotation to Walton's " Life of Herbert," in vol. iii. (F.
W. L. edition).
2 I note here that the whole of the Latin and Greek poems of
Herbert as well as Melville's Anti-Tami-Cami-Categoria, are trans-
lated for the first time in the Fuller Worthies' Library edition of the
complete Works.
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. OX
such a historical-ecclesiastical crisis be mastered.
For my part, familiar as I am, from special lines
of research, with the Lives and Writings of the
Petitioners for whom Melville dared to speak,
when those who ought to have spoken were
recreant and dumb, I stand amazed that such
an one could so overvalue a mythical Apostolic
" continuity," and so undervalue The Reforma-
tion, as to range himself against the true and
good, arid range himself with those who cared
not a straw for the vital ends of the Church of
Christ. The secret with Herbert, as with Leigh-
ton, is, that he regarded the Church (his "Mother
Church ") as the ideal of Perfection ; his
" subtle fancy sped
Far back unto its youth, and read,
In sculptured forms and texts and rhymes.
The secret of the ancient times,
And their divinest sense
Of mystic reverence.
And in its Cross the Christ he saw ;
And in its pillars stedfast law;
Its dim light bade with awe admire ;
And thought soarM heavenward on the spire,
Urged onwards by the chime
That told the fleeting time."
There is this apology for Leighton, that he had
mixed little with the world, and was instinctively
a Recluse and given to contemplation ; while
Herbert knew the men — from the king down-
ward— who were dealing out contumely and per-
secution, the great hearts that were breaking
over the still superstition-haunted Church, and
the perishing multitudes who went unshepherded.
One would have rejoiced over just one cry from
Bemertou like this :
" I thought
Twere well indeed if we were bronght
From onr lax ways and sects and hate.
To primitive episcopate.
And prayers lisp'd of old
By infants in the fold.
CX MEMORIAL INTRODUCTION.
" Yet reck I not of forms ; full well
I know the pearl gives to the shell
Some beauty and virtue like its own,
And shining hue and gorgeous tone ;
And the old forms to me
Gleam with old sanctity.
" Yet what boot they ? and what boots all
Our garb ecclesiiistii-al,
The white-stoled priest, the altar high.
If we do err from charity ?
O God, all gods above,
Knit us with cords of love.
" Alas ! and is it thus the State
Rewards the wise and good and great ;
That brute dragoon should quench the life
Which might have ruled our civil strife,
Alone in royal might
Uf wisdom and high right ?
" No trial held — no sifted proof-
Is"" justice sitting calm, aloof
From human passion, human wrong, —
No advocate against the strong,
But by the vilest he
Meets a hard destiny."
("The Bishop's Walk," st. 73-75, 160-1).
I proceed now to —
*S rv. The characteristics of Herberts Writings.
These I classify thus :
1. Quaintness and nicety of workmanship.
2. Thought and mysticism.
3. Imaginativeness and originality.
4. Wit and humour.
5. Sanctity.
1. Quaintnese and nicety of workmanship. Apart
from disputed etymology, usage attaches to the
word " quaint" the meaning of a certain oddness
and fantasticalness ; and it is thus I use it, add-
ing the (in part) co-relative " nicety," simply in
order to bring out more clearly an element of
Herbert's quaintness. Here it is very much
with the Poetry and in some of the Prose of our
Worthy as it is with those antique great-walled
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. CXI
Gardens that are still to be found in our England
and even in bleaker Scotland, as in France and
Holland, and which, for myself, excite imagination
and actualise the Past, when one is fortuned to
read therein an Elizabethan or early Jacobean
book ; viz, that as the grotesque shapes, clipped
and trimmed and restrained yews and hollies
and laurels, draw attention, first of all, to the
neglect of their grand bolls and blood-spot berries
and splendours of " greene leves," so a casual
Eeader of the Temple and even a Priest to the
Temple is struck most of all with this thing of
oddness in the form given to the thinking and
fancies and teaching. To begin with, there are
such Poems as, 1. The Altar; 11. Easter Wings;
58. Coloss. iii. 3; 92. Sinne's Round; and the
like. These were the playthings of a Scholar in
reminiscence of Theocritus, or Simmias of Rhodes,
or Dosiades of the "Poetae Minores Graeci," or
of the marvellous "De Laudibns S. Crucis " of
Rhbanus Maurus ; or after the later Italian
style, formed on the verse and thought models
from the Continent rather than of other " Lite-
rary Follies " which are given a place iii D'Israeli's
Curiosities of Literature. In passing mood, one
can enter into the luau* of even such artificial
trifles, and mark the skill of the Artist and the
devotional feeling which informs them, so that a
toy grows in the hand into a portent. To have a
measure of difference between the poet-writer cf
such things and the mere mechanic of words, let
the Student turn to 1. The Altar and to 102.
Paradise, and contrast them with a later imitator,
and more, Samuel Speed, in his " Prison Pietie "
(1677), as follows :
CX11
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
"«1 THE ALTAR.
A broken Altar, Lord, to Thee, I raise,
Made of a Heart, to celebrate Thy praise ;
Thou that the onely Workman art i —
That can cement a broken heart ; j
"I «
ll
— i For such is mine, |
O, make it Thine :
Take out the sin
That's hid therein.
Though it be stone,
Make it to groan ;
That so the same
I 1 May praise Thy name.
| Melt it, O Lord, I Thee desire, )
' With flames from Thy celestial fire ; '
That it may ever speak Thy praise alone,
Since Thou hast changed into flesh a stone."
(P. 72)
"1F THE PETITION.
" Stand by me, Lord, when dangers stare ,
Keep from my fruit snch choaking tare
That on confusion grounded are.
" Thou that from bondage hast me brought,
And my deliverance hast rought,
'Tis Thee that I will praise for ought.
" O Lord, to evil make me chill,
Be Thou my Bock and holy hill,
So shall I need to fear no ill."
En passant two things must be admitted to old;
Speed, spite of his plagiarisms from Herbert and
Jeremy Taylor and others : (1) That he returns
finely on Herbert his wish to be " a weed " in
his 131. The Crosse :
thus;
" To make my hopes my torture, and the fee
Of all my woes another wo,
Is in the midst of delicates to need,
And ev'n in Paradise to be a weed."
"«I THE FLOWER.
" O that I were a lovely Flower
In Christ His Bower ;
Or that I were a weed, to fade
Under His shade.
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. cxiii
But bow can I a weed become
If I am shadow'd with the Son f l " = Sun. (p. 150.)
and (2) that he had a chord of " sweet-singing "
of his own ; e.g. On Contentation (in Prison) :
" Tis not the largeness of the cage doth bring
Notes to the bird, instructing him to sing.
Moreover, though a bird hath little eye,
Vet he hath wings by which he soars on high ;
Can see far wider and abundance better
Than many an ox, although his eye be greater." (p. SO.)
Another, in " Nature's Delight," proves to be by
John Austin :
•• Though their voices lower be.
Streams too have their melody ;
Night and day they warbling ran,
Never pause, but still sing on." 3
Passing from mere outward quaintness, I must
dispute Dr. G. L. Craik's dictum in respect of it.
He observes : " Herbert was an intimate friend
of Donne, and no doubt a great admirer of his
poetry ; but his own has been to a great extent
preserved from the imitation of Donne's peculiar
style, into which it might in other circumstances
" iSo.i and A'un." The play upon the word son — sun, repeated
in Herbert (see Glossarial Index, i.e.), occurs in Giles Fletcher (Ch.
Viet, on Earth, St. 18 ; our edition) :
" Ah me, quoth he, how many yeares have beene,
Since these old eyes the Snnne of heav'n have seene I
Certes the Bonne of Heav'n they now behold, I weene."
There was nothing irreverent in this kind of serious punning, nor in
Thomas Fuller.
* The following is the full title-page : " Prison Pietie, or Medita-
tions Divine and Moral. Digested into Poetical Heads, on Mixt and
Various Subjects. Wherennto is added a Panegyrick to the right
Reverend and most nobly descended Henry [King] Lord Bishop of
London. By Samuel Speed, Prisoner in Ludgate, London. 1677,
12mo." In this volume, on pp. 102, 103 (bit), 104, 108, 110, 131, 137,
141 (bis), 142, and 143, are Poems by Bp. Taylor, bodily, or with
Tery slight verbal changes : of Herbert there are appropriation-
imitations on pp. 72, 73, 93, 96, 97, and elsewhere. In mitigation, be
it remembered (1) that John Speed was his grandfather ; (2) that in
the Epistle " To the Devout " ne says : " Some Creditors, severe as
well as covetous, forced me to a confinement in Lndgate ; where,
the better to employ my time, I have compiled and composed this
Manual of Meditations, which consists of Psalms, Hymns, and Divine
Poems." The sorrow is, that there are no marks to show what are
"compiled " and what " composed."
cxiv MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
have fallen, in all probability, by its having been
composed with little effort or elaboration, and
chiefly to relieve and amuse his own mind by
the melodious expression of his favourite fancies
and contemplations. His quaintness lies in his
thoughts rather than in their expression, which
is in general sufficiently simple and luminous." l
This is surely hasty and superficial ; for the in-
tricacy and variety of metres in The Temple,~a,8
well as the careful and nice Various Keadings
and corrections of the Williams and Bodleian MSS.,
evidence " elaboration " and daintiness and per-
sistence of art of a very remarkable type ; as are
found also with Sir Philip Sidney, and as indeed
must be with any genuine Workman with poetic
words.2 There is a degree of truth, perhaps, as
to the quaintness being in the thought rather
than in expression, but only in degree ; for
thought and expression alike bear the insignia
of quaint thoughtfulness, swift and flashing o'
times, but laboured on with fine after-patience,
even when the form is as a cathedral gargoyle.
There is this also to be borne in mind, that
while the Age's character influenced Donne and
Herbert, their own minds were by nature adapted
1 " A Compendious History of English Literature and of the Eng-
lish Language from the Norman Conquest." 2 vols. 8vo, 1866
(Griffin). A sound book substantially.
* See our Essays in editions of Donne and Sidney. In reference
to the Various Readings of the Williams MS. as utilized in Motes
and Illustrations occasionally, I should have liked space for a critical,
examination of them; but this I am compelled to leave to each stu-
dent-reader on the strength of the ample materials furnished by us.
See especially the opening stanzas of "The Church Porch," wh
surely the new Hues commencing " it is a rodd, Whose twigs
pleasures," &c. (to notice no others) are very memorable. They I
bear comparison with even Shakespeare's " Lear" (v. 3.) :
" The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices
Make instruments to scourge us."
The Various Readings and erasures of particles and epithets are i
noticeable.
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. CXV
to the style of their Age. The Age fed and
nourished their peculiarities, but did riot create
them. Their peculiar inborn characters — as later
in Thomas Fuller — were in harmony with those
of the Age. Hence, where there was no field for
these peculiarities Herbert and Donne failed ; as
the former in his " Psalms," and the latter in his
" Lamentations of Jeremiah." By the way, with
reference here to a quotation onward, from "Anti-
phon," as to Shakespeare having " cast off his
Age's faults," there is surely need for qualification.
His mind too was in character with that of his
Age, in the matter both of subtlety of thought
and expression, and it was his excess of these
and his genius that elevated what would in
others have been faults into graces.1
Dr. George Macdonald (in "Antiphon") saw
deeper than Dr. Craik, and with characteristic
insight puts the quaintness and nicety, as thus :
" [George Herbert] has an exquisite feeling of
lyrical art. Not only does he keep to one idea in
it, but he finishes the poem like a cameo. Here
is an instance wherein he outdoes the elaboration
of a Norman trouvere ; for not merely does each
line in each stanza end with the same sound as
the corresponding line in every other stanza, but
it ends with the very same word. I shall hardly
care to defend this, if my reader chooses to call
it a whim ; but I do say that a large degree of
the peculiar musical effect of the poem — subser-
1 Mr. Edward Fair, in his " Select Poetry, chiefly Sacred, of the
_».».. .* published hisprincipal poetk — — ._........,.. . ... ~~w».~,
in the reign of King Charles, but in Playford's Music Book there
ire seven Psalms attributed to him which appear to have been
written in the wriod to which this volume refers " (p. xvi.). It will
>e noted that Mr. Farr forgets that "The Temple " was posthumously
mtih-h.vl, and that his reference to " Playford'g Music Book," with
•o tnauy issued by those of the name, is blameably vague.
C.xvi MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
vient to the thought, keeping it dimly chiming
in the head until it breaks out clear and trium-
phant like a silver bell in the last — is owing to
this use of the same column of words at the line-
ends of every stanza. Let him who doubts il
read the poem aloud :
" 144. AARON.
' Holinesse on the head,
Light and perfections on the breast,
Harmonious bells below, raising the dead
To leade them unto life and rest :
Thus are true Aaroiis drest.
' Profanenesse in my head,
Defects and darknesse in my breast,
A noise of passions ringing me for dead
Unto a place where is no rest :
Poore priest, thus am I drest.
' Onely another head
I have, another heart and breast.
Another musick, making live, not dead,
Without Whom I could have no rest :
In Him I am well drest.
' Christ is my onely head,
My alone-onely heart and breast,
My onely musit-k, striking me ev'n dead,
That to the old man I may rest,
And be in Him new-drest.
' So, holy in my head,
Perfect and light in my deare breast.
My doctrine tun d by Christ, Who is not dead,
But lives in me while I do rest.
Come, people; Aaron's drest.'
Note the flow and the ebb of the lines of each
stanza — from six to eight to ten syllables, and
back through eight to six, the number of stanzas
corresponding to the number of lines in each;
only the poem itself begins with the ebb, and
ends with a full spring-flow of energy. Note
also the perfect antithesis in their parts between
the first and second stanzas, and how the last
lines of the poem clench the whole in revealing
its idea — that for the sake of which it was written, i
In a word, note the unity" I intercalate thai i
" 124. Clasping of hands," with " mine " anc i
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. C.xvii
" thine " ringing through it, is another instance
of exquisite art in combination with quaintness.
Further, and again much more penetratively than
Craik in his Donne reference : " Bom in 1593,
notwithstanding his exquisite art, he could not
escape being influenced by the faulty tendencies
of his age, borne in upon his youth by the ex-
ample of his mother's friend, Dr. Donne. A man
must be a giant like Shakespeare or Milton to
cast off his age's faults. Indeed no man has
more of the " quips and cranks and wanton
wiles " of the poetic spirit of his time than George
Herbert, but with this difference from the rest of
Dr. Donne's school, that such is the indwelling
potency that it causes even these to shine with a
radiance such that we wish them still to burn
and not be consumed. His muse is seldom other
than graceful, even when her motions are gro-
tesque, and he is always a gentleman, which can-
not be said of his master. We could not bear to
part with his most fantastic oddities, they are so
interpenetrated with his genius as well as his
art." '
Summarily, then, the quaintness of Herbert in
thought and wording, must not be allowed to
hide from the reader the exquisite nicety of
workmanship spent on it. To those unfamiliar
with the contemporary literature, it may at first
repel, but a closer study will draw out full and
abiding admiration and gratitude. The most
odd outward forms will prove to hide in them
precious things ; as I found the other day a
glorious eastern shell, purple-lipped, passion-
flower stained, carrying within murmurous me-
mories of its far-off sea, notwithstanding that it
was cut and shaped into a very humble use ; or
' See note in the falter Emy, M before.
cxviii MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
as one marks in the old gardens, of which men-
tion was made earlier, the clipped and trimmed
boughs, bursting into a glory of blossom and
odour beneath the breath of the returning season.
It is very noticeable how the Poet asserts him-
self against the somewhat ultra-correct Artist in
many of the quaintest of Herbert's Poems. The
careless lines, the lines that have not been worked
and re-worked, are few and far between. More-
over, the quaintness andfantastique of some of the
poems — the thinking taking such shape inevi-
tably— hide a secret that good James Mont-
gomery did not discern when in his " Christian
Poet" he hastily described "The Temple" as
" devotion itself turned into masquerade." If he
had reversed it, it had been truer ; for Herberl
turns even masquerade into devotion. He ful-
filled the Bible- vision of " Holiness to* the Lord,"
graven on the very bells of the horses.
V 2. Thought and mysticism. While agreeing in
part with " Antiphon's " aphoristic judgment,
that " as verse is for the ear, not for the eye, we
demand a good hearing first," I must neverthe-
less reiterate a former opinion (in relation to
Fulke Greville, Lord Brooke1) that " music "
(or rhyme and rhytlim in perfection), if the
" first," is not the " last " or supremest thing.
Or, to put it in another way, unless the " music '
inform great and noble thought, and be thrilled
by that subtlety of emotion which I call here
mysticism, it may be of the poorest and empties!
Poetry qua Poetry ; e. g. Thomas Moore is all bul
faultless in his rhyme and melody ; but one
yearns for the roughness of a grand idea 01
1 See Essay on his Poetry in onr edition of his Complete World
(4 vuls.), where the traditionalism of criticism has been, I hope
thoroughly dealt with.
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. CXlX
fancy — just as one likes the break of the flowing
stream through the obstacle of some great stone or
dipping branch, anything rather than the Dutch-
dyke smoothness and mere flow. The quantity
and quality of the thinking, and that as intensi-
fied by feeling, must ever determine the quantity
and quality of a Poet's genius — must, in truth,
decide us whether or no it be genius and the
results poetry. Where genius is, the Thinking
and the Feeling send out their own " music,"
and that far beyond such as is put. above the
Thinking and the Feeling, instead of within
them. William Cartwright, in his verse-tribute
to John Fletcher, has very vividly expressed
this, e.g.
" Fletcher, though some rail it thy fanlt that wit
80 overflowM thy scenes, that ere twas fit
To come upon the stage, Beaumont was fain
To bid thee be more dull, that's write again
And bate some of thy Are, which from thee cai
In a clear, bright, full, but too large a flame ;
And after all (finding thy genius such)
That, blunted and allay'd, 'twas yet too much ;
Added his sober spnnge, and did contract
Thy plenty to less wit to mak't exact :
Yet we through his correcting could tee
Much treasure in thy superjnuty.
Which was tofifd away, as when we do
Cut jewels, that that's lost is Jewell too ;
Or, as men use to wash gold, which we know
By losing makes the stream thence wealthy grow." '
Of George Herbert in kind this holds. With
' all his nicety of workmanship, or even his quaint-
it ness (one of many things), there is underneath
5 it, as the matter of his workmanship all through,
* substantive Thought of a high order. His art
$ t was fine and subtle, but it ceased when further
« use of
" the file wonld not make smooth, but wear." *
Hence, as true of Herbert as of Jonson is it :
.?
» Ibid. " To the Slemory of Ben JOMOH ; Lament," p. 3>U.
" Comedies, Tragi-CoMdiM, with other Poems," 1651, p. 271.
H4
CXX MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
i " Thy thought's so order'd, so express'd, that we
Conclude that thou didst not discourse, but see ;
J.'iHt/ii'ii/r an nuistt r'tl, t/i.nt ihy numerous feet,
\ Lflden with genuine u-ords, do alicaies meet
| Etich in his art, nothing unfit doth fall ;
Showing the Poet — like the wise men — all." '
That word " see," as I take it, goes critically
deep, and is very much superior (with all respect
to Dr. George Macdonald's test of the " ear.'
Music is for the ear, must satisfy it to be music
Poetry is also for the ear; yet is it also for the
eye, that the spirit may take in the altitudes anc
depths from the printed and read page. I claim
for " The Temple," and for George Herbert, this
peculvwm of the true poet, that his poetry is high
thought and his high thought poetry. Here
accept " Antiphon's " welcome to him : " With
my hand on the lock, I shrink from opening the
door. Here comes a poet indeed ! and how am I to
show him due honour ? With his book humbly,
doubtfully offered ; with the ashes of the poems
of his youth fluttering in the wind of his priestly
garments, he crosses the threshold. Or rather,
for I had forgotten the symbol of my book, let
us all go from our chapel to the choir, and hum-
bly ask him to sing, that he may make us worthy
of his song. In George Herbert there is poetry
enough and to spare ; it is the household bread
of his< being. If I begin with that which first in
the nature of things ought to be demanded of a
poet — namely, Truth, Revelation, — George Her-
bert offers us measure pressed down and running
over" (p. 174). " Truth," " Revelation," are
other synonyms for my " Thought " and " Mys-
ticism." I find in the Writings of Herbert pro-
found, meditative, slow-patient Thought in the
very cathedrals of Thinking, i. e. on the most ulti-
! " To the Memory of Ben Jonson ; Lament," p. 312.
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. cxxi
mate problems of Fact and destiny. I find in it
all, or in nearly all, that emotional element which
I designate by Mysticism, or Thought trembling
into feeling, feeling deepening into passion,
passion laying hold of the Eternal and the True.
There is a delicate mist (not haze) of the mystical
(as in Henry Vaughau, the Silurist) over " The
Temple," from Porch to L'Envoy — comparable
with the amethyst edgings of cloud-land, or the
purples, opal -streaked, that fill Italian and Swiss
hill hollows. You come on a grand Thought,
either naked or clad in a metaphor or symbol,
and as you dwell upon it, lo ! not the brain only
but the heart is led captive.
Perhaps sufficient has been said and suggested
to vindicate a higher recognition than hitherto
of the thinking power of George Herbert as dis-
tinguished from his ineffable sweetness and saint-
liness. " With a conscience tender as a child's,"
says Dr. Macdouald on this, " almost diseased in
its tenderness, and a heart loving as a woman's,
his intellect is none the less powerful. Its move-
ments are as the sword-play of an alert, poised,
well-knit, strong-wriated fencer with the rapier,
in which the skill impresses one more than the
force, while without the force the skill would be
valueless, even hurtful, to its possessor" (" Anti-
phou," p. 176). Even so : the gleam of the Da-
mascus blade, lightning-edged, flames under the
wreathing myrtles with which Peace has twined
it; or, unmetaphorically, the brain-strength is
used gently and without display, but it is there.
With reference to Dyce's little painting of George
Herbert as an angler, the writer in the " Christian
Remembrancer" — from whom we have quoted
more than once — lays stress on this intellectu-
ality and thought of " The Temple," and indeed
cxxii MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
of all Herbert's verse and prose, as thus : " Mr.
Dyce's picture,1 while representing well the se-
renity which Herbert's impetuous nature gained
by rigid exercise of self-control and resignation,
illustrates only too well the popular misconcep-
tion, universal among those who know George
Herbert only by report. Most persons, we may
venture to say, only think of him as, to borrow
Mr. Spurgeon's elegant designation of him, " a
devout old Puseyite" of the time of the first
Stuart, completely estranged from their sym-
pathy, not by the antiquated manners of the
period only, but by his own singular austerity of
life and extraordinary self-abnegation. Most
persons merely know his poetry by a few lines
culled here and there to provoke a smile at their
quaintness and want of rhythm. Even among
those who cherish with loving reverence the
memory of his holy and beautiful life, few are
aware — for it needs patient research, uudis-
couraged by the archaisms of a style strangely
dissonant to modern ears — how high a place he is
entitled to, purely on the ground of intellectual
ability (pp. 104-5). Proceed we now to his
U- 3 Imaginativeness and originality. Imagina-
tion is so utterly of the stuff of poetry, that no
one may hope to retain a place among the greatest
"Makers " (reverting to the fine old name) with-
out it. Yet never was it more necessary than in
1 " In last year's exhibition of paintings, not a few among the gazers
•who crowded the Royal Academy's rooms were attracted round a
small but highly finished picture, which, to say nothing of its other
claims to be noticed (and these are considerable with all who can
appreciate the delicacy, repose, and careful execution of Mr. Dyce's
manner), certainly stood put in unique contrast to its companions
both in subject and colouring," &c. ("Chr. Eemembr." p. 104). A.
Cooper, K.A., selected the incident of Herbert's helping the poor
roan whose horse had fallen by the wayside for a kindred painting.
Major engraved it for his edition of the " Lives " (1825, p. 320). It
is commoupluce, save in the horse's eye.
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. Cixill
oar own day to remember that there is imagina-
tion and imagination ; never more necessary to
test what claims our acceptance as poetry by
Shakespeare's definition. Let as recall it :
" Lovers and madmen hare snc-h seething brains.
Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend
More than cool reason ever comprehends.
The lunatic, the lover, and the poet
Are of imagination all compact :
One sees more devils than vast hell can hold ;
That is the madman : the lover, all as frantic,
8ees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt :
The poeft eye, in a fine frenzy rolling.
Doth, glance from hemen to earth., from earth to heaven,
And at imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poeft pen
Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name."
("Midsummer Night's Dream," act v. sc. 1.)
We have many " seething brains," but lack the
" fine frenzy ;" abundance of " great swelling
words," little of that " imagination " which is
" compact." The thick-coming epithets, the la-
borious and gaady word-painting, the spasm and
mouthing of belauded poetry, are the antithesis
of what I take to be true Imaginativeness, an
essential of which is that it be not diffuse but
compact. Of this condensation and compactness
of imagination I pronounce George Herbert on*
his own level — level rather than altitude — to be
a master ; and I regard " The Temple " as fur-
nishing incomparable examples of the fulfilment
of the " Midsummer Night's Dream's " supreme
requirement :
" As Imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
Tarns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name."
Take this of the Agony of Gethsemane:
" Sin in that press and vice, which forceth Pain
To hunt his cruel food through every vein ; "
CXX1V MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
and this in " The Church Porch" (st. xv.) :
" Chase brave employments with a naked sword
Throughout the world. Fool uot. for all may have,
If they dare choose, a glorious lile or grave. "
Of the former, its naked simpleness of wording
is surely declarative of the highest type of the
imaginative faculty — " compact" and restrained.
Of the latter, had Byron it in unconscious re-
miniscence in the close of the last, perhaps truest
as deepest, of all his poems, " On this day I com-
plete my thirty-sixth year " ? —
" Tread those reviving passions down,
Unworthy manhood — unto thee
Indifferent should the smile or frown
Of beauty be.
" If thon regret'st thy youth, why live t
The land of honourable death
Is here : — up to the field, and give
Away thy breath.
" 8eek out — less often sought than found —
A soldier's grave, for thee the best :
Then look around, and choose thy gronnd.
And take thy rest."
"Man" and "Man's Medley" and "Provi-
dence" afford abundant examples of the imagina-
tiveness and originality of our Poet. I return on
a line and a half of the penultimate stanza of
" Man :"
" Man is one world, and hath
Another to attend him. '
I know nothing more magnificent than this as a
thought, and nothing more perfect than its form.
It was only a grotesque grandeur to make Eart
(as old astronomic science did) the centre of tl
universe, and the huge sun to wheel in attend-
ance on it; but it is grand, without touch of
grotesqueness, to recognise thus in Man the
centre of the vastest and remotest circumference,
with all the visible world "to attend him." How
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. CXXV
wide-reaching as Wordsworth at his best, is this
in 90. Providence (11. 29-32) !—
" We all acknowledge both Thy power and love !
To be exact, transcendent, and divine ;
Who dost so strongly and so sweetly more,
While all things have their will, yet none but Thine."
Nor is this in 129. " The Search " at all inferior :
" Where is my Ood ? what hidden place
Conceals Thee still ?
What covert dnre eclipse Thy face .*
Is it Thy will P
O let not that of any thing ;
Let rather brasse,
Or steel, or mountains be Thy ring, ring-fence
And I will passe.
Thy will such an intrenching is
Aspasseth thought:
To it all strength, all subtilties
Are things of nonght.
Thy will snch a strange distance is
As that to it
East and West touch, the poles do kisse.
And parallels meet." (11. 29-44.)
But perhaps the fineness of Herbert's imagina-
tion is best seen in his eye for Nature. Purblind
critics, calling themselves philosophers, have
ignorantly said of Herbert that he knew and
cared little or nothing for the sights and sounds
of outside Nature.1 No genuine student of "The
1 An example occurs in a Paper on " Mr. Tennyson as a Botanist "
in "St. Pauls Magazine" (October 1873), as follows : "Although
belonging to an earlier date than the sterile period referred to,
George Herbert might also be quoted here as a case of poetic talent
of a very genuine kind, yet unaccompanied by much perception of
natural beauty or picturesqneness. He has sometimes been likened
to Keble, a brother churchman and clergyman ; but between the
two in their feeling and apprehension of the wonders of creation the
difference is singular and complete. Herbert's strong point was
spiritual anatomy. His probing and exposure of the deceits and
vanities of the human heart, and his setting forth of the dangers of
the world to spirituality of mind, is at once quaint and incisive. But
of any love or special knowledge of the physical world there is
scarcely a trace. Keble's poetry, on the other band — quite as un-
worldly as that of the author of ' The Temple ' — is redolent every-
where of the sights and sounds of Nature. The seasons with their
endless changes, the motions of the heavenly bodies, the fragrance of
the field, trees, rivers, mountains, and all material things, are assi-
milated, so to speak, into the very essence of his verse. That very
cxxvi MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
Temple " will be cheated by such hasty generalisa-
tion. While it must be granted that his peculiar
poetic gifts were exercised most of all in the
uttering of those spiritual experiences which
rounded his remarkable Life, and while the pene-
trativeness and revelation that give Wordsworth
his renown belong to a later day, I must never-
theless strenuously assert that all through, our
" sweet singer" walks the earth as still God's
Eden, the great Gardener's Garden. If you
bring insight to discern, you come on the dainti-
est, quietest, tenderest, wiusomest allusions to
Nature as he saw it, in simple level English
landscape, and so worked-in that you feel at once
the presence of Imagination, not mere word-
painting :
" The consecration and the poet's dream,
The light that never was on sea or land."
Thus is it invariably and inevitably; and hence
you have in well-nigh every poem the breath of
world which to Herbert was only base and utterly indifferent, seemed
to Keble, to use his own words, 'ennobled and glorified,' and
awakened in his soul poetical emotions of the highest and purest
kind." A footnote is added : " One of his biographers has discm cred
a solitary verse, on the faith of which he complacently assumes that
Herbert 'was thoroughly alive to the sweet Jntluences of nature '"
(p. 444). Conceding to this writer (Mr. J. Hutchison) thut "Her-1
protest against the serene ignorance of Herbert's " Temple herein
exhibited. If Mr. Hutchison had really given a couple of open-eyed
hours to the study of Herbert's poetry, such as he has to Mr. Tenny-
s m's, with good results, he would have been astonished by the
"special knowledge " of the "sights and sounds of Nature" shown
by nim. Indeed, his own description of Keble (from which none will
seek to abate) is an accurate one of Herbert. Nothing is more pro-
foundly false than that Herbert regarded this present world "as only
base and utterly indifferent." His was too spacious a soul, and he
was too whole-hearted for such sentimentalism of misanthropy. The
footnote reference to a "solitary verse" is simply ludicrous and
blundering. Mr. Hutchison's foolish criti<-i>m was very well dis-
posed of in the same periodical for November lf-":t in a Paper by
Georgiophilns, entitled "George Herbert as a Lover of Nature ;"
and oar examples confirm all stated therein.
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. CXXVii
the cool rural air, the gleam of the green fields,
the sparkle of rain and infinite radiance of dew,
the "dark and shadie grove" and sky beyond,
the " sweet surprise " of woodland and wayside
flowers in "momentanie bloom," or "green and
gay," or autumn-stained, or twined in quick-
fading " posie," and " tender grasse," and bud,
" nipt blossome," and fruit ; the bird in its nest
or on the wing, or lifting its little head after
sipping a drink, the " nightingale," and " lark,"
and "sweet Dove," of changeful plumage; the
clouds, the stars' " noiseless spheres," light, and
lightning — God's "golden spear," — wind and
wave, " rolling waves," the tossing yet straight-
steered " boat," the limpet on the rock, the
" bubble " iridescent and fragile, the snow, the
flooded meadow, the " secret cave," the "ringing"
woods, the sunbeam reaching up like a golden
stair from earth to heaven, the rainbow, light
"watrish " or flashing ; bees, the " worm " ("griev'd
for a worm on which I tread"), dogs, the horse
—in fine, Inti of nature comparable with the land-
scape backgrounds of our greatest portrait painters
— behind the portraits, yet cunningly and inesti-
mably done. Herbert indeed actualised William
Blake's " Auguries of Innocence :"
" To see a world in a prain of sand.
And a heav'n in a wild flower.
Hold infinity in the palm of your band.
And eternity in an hour."
Only one who found " a heav'n in a wild flower,"
one to whom his Parsonuge-garden was a very
Garden of Eden, would thus have cried out :
" Rain, do not hurt myjtaic era, but gently spend
Your hony-drops : presse not to smell them here;
When they are ripe tneir odour will awend,
And at your lodging with their thanks appeare."
(" Providence." 11. U7-13U
cxxviii MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
Only one, too, who was " all eare," as ever
Shakespeare was, could thus have " imagined :"
" All must appeare,
And be dispos'd, and dress'd, and tnu'd by Thee,
Who sweetly temper's! all. IF WE COULD HEARE
THY SKILL AXD ART, WHAT MUSICK WOfLD IT HE '. "
(" Providence," 11. 37-40.)
This latter especially shows how vocal to him was
ithe "physical world," to which critics have sup-
posed he was " utterly indifferent," or regarded
as " only base." There is within it, too, as often,
a subtle doubling of the thought, in its earthly
and divine side — a subtlety that comes out in the
very first stanza of " The Church Porch," wherein
" delight " itself becomes consecrate with the
awfulness of " sacrifice."
Dr. Macdouald has pointed out another element
of Herbert's imaginativeness and originality in
his "use of homeliest imagery for highest thought."
This, he justly thinks, "is in itself enough to class
him with the highest "kind of poets." He pro-
ceeds : " If my reader will refer to ' The Elixir,'
he will see an instance in the third stanza, ' You
may look at the glass or at the sky ' — ' You may
regard your action only, or that action as the will
of God.' Again, let him listen to the pathos and
simplicity of this one stanza from a poem he calls
' The Flower.' He has been in trouble ; his times
have been evil, he has felt a spiritual old age
creeping upon him ; but he is once more awake :
' And now in age I bnd again,
After so mwtiy deaths I live and write;
I once more smell the dew and ruin,
And relish versing : O, my onely Light,
It cannot be
That I um he
On whom Thy tempests fell at night ! '
Again :
' Some may dream merrily, bnt when they wake
They dress themselves and come to Thee.' "
(" Antiphon," p. 180.)
M KMOR1 AL-INTRODUCTION. CXX1X
That vivid line, " I once more smell the dew and
rain," was the grateful sigh of one whose heart-
delight was in Nature, even beyond his " vers-
iiiLT," which, be it noted, comes after, not before,
his celebration of return from the sick-chamber
to his seat on the garden-meadow facing the
Neddar.
The ORIGINALITY of Herbert is remarkable. His
Sonnet (a double one) to his Mother — the Poem
to the Queen of Bohemia by " G. H.," which I
have reclaimed, with only slight hesitation, for
him — and " The Parodie " bear the impress of
Donne,1 and prove that he was potential over him
to the last ; 2 and there are cadences and pauses
and breaks of melody that tell us Shakespeare's
folio was all but certainly one of the books for
which he fasted that he might possess it. Thomas
Tusser and Richard Barnfield have also much of
his ethical teaching, and also his terseness — both
yielding most interesting anticipatory parallels.
But substantially he thought and felt and saw and
sang for himself. Henry Vaughan thought more
deeply, saw more magnificent visions (as of Eter-
nity's "great ring" of Light), felt perhaps more
passionately, looked more widely, sang with a
fuller music and a more absolute spontaneity ;
but George Herbert was autochthonal after a
remarkable type, alike in his thinking and imagi-
nativeness, and wording and art. His " The
Rose " and " Sunday " attest this in their com-
1 The "Parody" (vol. i. pp. 211, 212) is after Donne's Love-lyric
(F. W. L. edn., vol. ii. pp. 235-36).
' The line quoted by Herbert in the " Church Porch " (st. riv. 1. 2)
occnrs in Donne's lines to " Mr. Tillman on his taking Orders. It
i» ju»t the poem of his friend that we would have expected Herbert
to turn to and value. It must have gone home to him as he hesitated
to accept Ik-mertuii.
CXXX MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
bined familiarity and newness.1 I invite brief
attention next to his —
4. Wit and Humour. Wit, in present meaning,
is synonymous with " humour," as humour is
with " wit." Formerly it designated much more,
as elsewhere is shown.2 I use it in the old sense
of Wisdom, and in that George Herbert is affluent;
while I combine it with humour, inasmuch as
there is a delicate playfulness in his gravest
wisdom that is to me infinitely winning. You
cannot study " The Temple," or " A Priest to the
Temple," or " Jacula Prudeutum" without lx MULT
struck with the fulness of sound common-sensed
counsels on everyday duties and obligations, as
well as on the higher and everlasting, or without
perceiving that the Parson of Bemerton could
unbend, and enjoy " pleasant laughter." His
humour we should ill have spared, so gracious is
it in itself, and so much more human and near
to us does it make the Saint; for never was
falser idea of Christ than the patristic legend of I
the Lord having wept but never laughed, asj
though He Who fashioned the " fount of tears "|
were not the same Who strung the risible nerves,
and implanted in His most absolute and crownec
men, a keen sense of the ludicrous, the incongru-
ous, the odd, as " all things are big with jest."
Yet is the "jest" ever that of a profoundlj
thoughtful man, as in "The Church Porch" (st.v^
1, 2), wherein he proclaims the levelling char
ter in saint and sinner of " strong drink "-
"When once it is within." Once let it
1 I may be permitted to refer to my Essay on the " Life ai
Writings of Henry Vanghan" ("Works," vol. ii. j>p. Ixxviii. XCM.) f
"His Relation to George Herbert." I have very little to everl
modify therein, except perhaps that I have allowed Vaughan'J
jfrandeur of imagination toovrrsha io-.v the not le-- L'einiiue imagir
tive faculty of Herbert, though it he on n luimUer j.l.mu
3 See " Notes uud Illustrations," s. v.
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. cxxxi
" within," and " grace " as " flesh " falls before it
— surely a living word for to-day !
The wit, id ett wisdom, of Herbert, is most of
all revealed in " the simple but substantial and
ever stately Church Porch." Here once more I
draw upon that thoughtful Essay which has
already yielded so much of value : " This [' The
Church Porch'] consists of seven-and-seventy
Btauzas, full of clear sense concerning the com-
mon conduct of life, chastened worldly wisdom,
and pure Christian morality, addressed to the
Laertes or young son of the Church :
• Thou whose sweet youth and early hopes inhance
Thy rate and price, and mark thee fur a treasure.'
The neophyte is cordially, fervently, but above
all sensibly, warned against lust, wine, and, espe-
cially, boastfulness and sensuality. It is roundly
iiid grandly said of t!*e boaster,
' He makes flat war with God, and doth defy
With his poor cloUs of earth the spacious sky.'
Swearing, leasing, and idleness are next rebuked
jvith as much pungency as wit. The very soldier
8 adjured to use a noble sedulity :
'Chase brave employment with a naked sword
Throughout the world. Fool not ; for all may have,
Ii they dare try, a glorious life or grave.'
1 Constancy, frugality, regularity of living, love of
1 'i olitude and thrift are all enforced with singular
ndgment. Hints about dress, play, conversa-
ion, quarrel, laughter, wit, the great, friendship,
nd general behaviour are spun into as many
tanzas. At length there is more seriously in-
dicated the duty of respect for Sunday, the
1 I searched Ryley's MS. Notes on "The Temple " for something
tick : but found them dreary and empty and torpid, and unworthy
' quotation.
cxxxii MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
Church, the Minister, and the institution of
Prayer ; all done with as much point as gravity ; I
and with a most gallant ending, which will always I
please the wisest best :
' In brief, acquit thee bravely ; play the man.
Look not on pleasures as they come, but go.
Defer not the least virtue ; life's poor span
Make not an ell by trifling in thy woe.
If thou do ill the joy fades, not the pains :
If well, the pain doth fade, the joy remains.'
That which strikes one most forcibly in all these!
preliminary stanzas is the practical sense tliatl
pervades them. One had thought Herbert a]
meek and innocent Church-mystic, and here one!
finds him a man of life and counsel. The saintl
approves himself a gentleman ; the scholar a mar [
of the world; the minister a citizen. The readeij
is reminded of Bacon's minor Essays ; in som<|
of the passages there is, here and there, a toucll
of pawky Benjamin Franklin ; but such is thij
thoroughbred air of the whole ' Porch,' that th<[
image of old Polonius bestowing wise and eleganj
advices on his son is more frequently suggest
than either. These fits of easy association lasj
only a moment now and then, however ; for thj
most part the individuality of George Herbert
not to be lost sight of, for the fragrant breath
the Church is in the Porch. Besides, the stylj
of the expression as well as the thought is
markably idiosyncratic ; it is quite as much so if
this profane portion of the piece as it is wit!
' The Temple.' It is full of felicities." FurtheiJ
" We would hasten into the sacred and equalisii
enclosure, but that we wish to point out a certal
hidden significance in the construction of til
'Porch' before doing so. In this the prelude
the piece there is nothing set forth but rnannel
and morality. Nothing truly sacred, nothiil
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION CXXXlll
that is spiritual is introduced. The inner life of
the Church member is hardly hinted at ; that life
of Christ which is hid with God is religiously re-
served for the interior of ' The Temple.' With
how much care and touching simplicity is mo-
rality, pure and undefiled, kept separate and dif-
ferentialised from Christianity by this poetic con-
trivance ! Ethics, and even christianised ethics,
which form ' the be-all and the end-all " here of
certain ancient and modern codes, is the mere
Perirrhanterium of the religion of Jesus. Beyond
;he endeavours and attainments of him ' whose
ife is in the right ' there is a whole universe of
ligher, deeper, subtiller, tenderer, and more glo-
rious experiences for the Christian. Morality is
no part of Christianity proper ; it is its best and
ikeliest preparative of the way, or it is its first
and its necessary sign ; but it is not an integral
f«rt of it, any more than health is part and parcel
of morality, although it is one of its delightful
consequences. The Christian is and must be
moral ; but he is not a Christian in virtue of his
morality, he is a moral being in consequence of
ais Christianity. As it has been forcibly ex-
pressed by Coleridge, in his comment upon
James i. 27, morality is the mere outer service
ceremonial of Christianity : it bears the same
proportion and relation to the moral essence itself
is the external services of the tabernacle and the
temple sustained to the faith and theopathic life
)f Moses and the fathers. It is a mere body,
i^pable of subsisting by itself; but also capable
|jf becoming informed and glorified by the new
[spirit of Christ. Now the reader of sensibility
jannot fail to perceive that all this is enfolded
n, or rather poetically adumbrated by, the very
subject-matter and the treatment of the ' Porch,'
cxxxiv MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
at which we have just been glancing. Nor can
any one very well escape the feeling by way of
inference that the author of so much plain good
sense is a trustworthy guide to loftier themes.
The priest has gained one's confidence on the
threshold of his sacred home ; and one advances
full of trust in the candour of the wise young
minister, not overawed even by those solemn
words from the Superlimiuare :
' Avoid profaneness ; come not here :
Nothing but holy, pure, and clear,
Or that which groaneth to be so,
May at his pern further go.' " '
By the way, " Avoid profaneness " as=acounsel to
the reader is the usual way of understanding this ;
but surely our reading " Avoid " as=" Avaunt,
Profaneness!" is deeper. With all this wisdom
and all his gravity there is ever and anon, as
indicated, scintillation of humour. Take these
among many :
" God gave thy sonl brave wings " —
is his awakening and grand clarion-call to the]
Sluggard in the face of the sun ; but how quaint]
and sly follows this ! —
" Put not those feathers
Into a bed, to sleep out all ill weathers."
Again, he has been holding interview in his
parish with some stupid and obese squire ; and
his portrait goes into " The Church Porch :"
" O England ! . . . .
. fill thy breast with glory I
Thy gentry bleats, as if thy native cloth
Transfused a skeepishnest into thy story."
Donne earlier and Cowper and Lamb later wot
1 Dr. Samuel Brown, as before, pp. 112-14, 116-17.
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. CXXXV
have "clapped hands" with warble of soft laughter
over that. Again :
" He's a man of pleasure,
A kind of thing that's far itself too dear."
The scorn of " thing" here is almost terrible, yet
is there gleam of humour in it. There is a " grave
sad" humour too in this emblem -conception of
death :
" Therefore Thou dost not show
This fully to us, till death blow
The dust into our eyes ;
For by that powder Thou wilt make as see."
In this also, and something profounder still :
" If, poor soul, thon hast no tears,
Would than fiadst no fault*, or fears;
Who hatfi these, those ill forbears."
The Quip" brims over with humour, and so too
'Death" (personated as a skeleton). Even the
grave " Church Militant " has flashes of playful
seriousness that would be greatly relished at
Weston.
It were easy to cull aphorisms of wisdom, suc-
cinct and condensed so as to be almost proverbial
in their form, and to multiply, by puns and quips
and playings on words and varying meanings,
proofs of Herbert's humour, that inevitable ele-
ment in the highest kind of Poet ; but sufficient
has been said for those willing to " search" for
themselves. I have to notice now very briefly his —
5. Sanctify. Our analysis and interpretation of
the life of Herbert has demonstrated that it was
out of conflict and anguish, backsliding and tears,
he grew up into the holy " divine" man he ulti-
mately became, and is to the universal heart ; but
of that ultimate holiness and consecration there
is not the shadow of a doubt. Few things con-
I Bequently will more reward the student of human
cxxxvi MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
nature than an earnest, vigilant reading and re-
reading of the writings of our Worthy, so as to
receive into his hcart-of-hearts the sanctity of his
Poetry as represented by " The Temple" and "A
Priest to the Temple." l
The Christian will ever find in the Life and
Writings of George Herbert at once motive and
impulse, reproof and aspiration, and human evi-
dence of how an imagined impossible ideal may
become a living reality on earth, and how the
grand apostolic charge — at first sight more waste-
ful than to " gild refined gold," to " paint the
lily," to "throw a perfume on the violet" — to
" adorn the doctrine," may be done by men and
women to-day. The Sanctity of the Life, and this
Sanctity in the very substance of the Writings of
Herbert, is a legacy to Christendom that arith-
metic cannot estimate. We have finally —
v. Early and later Estimates.
The " Commendatory Verses" prefixed to some
of the early editions of "The Temple" are MTV
poor. The first, entitled " A Memorial to the
Honourable George Herbert, author of the Sacred
Poems, who died about anno 1635, is anonymous,
and its " about anno 1635," when it would hav*
been BO easy to have given the correct year
(1632-3), is an index of its carelessness. He
sings :
" Great saint, tmto thy memory and shrine
I owe all veneration, save divine,
For thy rare poems : piety and pen
Speak "thee no less than miracle of men ;"
and it is pleasing to read his closing testimony
that he " lived and died without an enemy.1
1 I reluctantly leave out here an eloquent quotation from " A
phon." (See Fuller Worthies' Library edition, as before, vol. ii.
ev.-cvii.)
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. CXXXVli
" P. D. Esq." is quaint and loving, but unpoetic ;
bis last couplet is :
" Here a divine, prophet, and poet lies.
That laid op mana for posterities." *
The lines on " The Church Militant," by " Ad-
versus Impia, anno 1670," find their fitting place
with that poem.2 Paling all the verse-tributes
is Richard Crashaw's little letter, " sent to a
gentlewoman" along with a gift-copy of " The
Temple," (his modest entitling of his own Poems
" Steps to the Temple.")
They are charming lines. They are daintily
wrought. They would have delighted the author.
Walton was appreciative enough to add them to
lis Life ; and they claim a place here inevitably : —
OK MR. OEOKOE HERBERT'S BOOKE INTITULED THE TEMPLE OF
SACRED POEMS; SEXT TO A GEHTLE-WOMAK.
" Know yon, faire, on what 700 looke ?
Divinest lore lyes in this booke :
Expecting fler from your faire eyes.
To kindle this his sacrifice.
When your hands untie these strings,
Thinke yo' have an angell by the wings;
One that gladly would be nigh, •
To waite upon each morning sigh ;
To flutter in the balmy aire
Of your well-perfumed praier ;
These white plumes of his hee'l lend yon,
Which every day to Heaven will send yon ;
To take acquaintance of each spheare
And all your smooth-fared kindred there.
And though Herbert's name doe owe
These devotions; fairest, know
While I thus lay them on the shrine
Of your white hand, they are mine."1
Dean Duport, who first published the " Epi-
grams- Apologetical " in answer to "Anti-Tami-
1 In Appendix to the annotated " Life of Herbert " by Walton
(vol. lii.) I give these Commendatory Poems, and also Daniel
R.k.-rV
1 f. W. L. edn., pp. 239-240.
5 My edition of " Complete Works of Crashaw " in Fuller Worthies'
library, 2 rols. ; vol. i. pp. 139, Uo.
k
oxxxviii MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION*.
Cami-Categoria," has several Latin poems com-
memorative of Herbert.1
The Preface-Memoir — discursive and somewhat,
verbose — of Barnabas Oley (1651), and the larger
Life by Walton (1670), are full of personal admi-
ration, but contain little of critical value, except
as seen earlier, that the former drew a broad lino
of demarcation between the sacred poems of " The
Temple" and his " Parentalia" and " Epigram s-
Apologetical." The next noticeable mention of
Herbert as a poet is by Richard Baxter, iu the
preface to his " Poetical Fragments" (1681). It
runs as follows: " But I must confess, after all,
that, next the Scripture Poems, there are none so
savoury to me as Mr. George Herbert's. I know
that Cowley and others far excel Herbert in wit
and accurate composure; but as Seneca takes
with me above all his contemporaries, because he
speaketh things by words feelingly and seriously,
like a man that is past jest, so Herbert speaks to
God like a man that really believeth in God, and
whose business in the world is most with God :
heart-work and heaven-work make up his book."
Baxter elsewhere incidentally works in bits from
" The Temple." ,He was related to the Danvers
kindred, if I err not, and was introduced to Court
by Sir Henry Herbert. Following Baxter comes I
Henry Vaughan, in his solemn and affecting L
preface to " Silex Scintillans," as follows : " Thel
first that with any»effectual success attempted a |
diversion of this foul and overflowing stream [of
love-verse] was the blessed man Mr. George Her.
bert, whose holy life and verse gained many con-1
verts — of whom I am the least — and gave the
first check to a most flourishing and admired wit
1 See Fuller Worthies' Library edition as l.eforo, vol. ii. pp. cix.-cx I <
for translation of one, and vol. iii. for notices ol others, by Duport. 1 i
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. cxxxix
of his time. After him followed diverse — sed
non j>assibu8 aeqiti* : they had more of fashion
than force. And the reason of their so vast dis-
tance from him, besides differing spirits and qua-
lifications— for his measure was eminent — I sus-
pect to be, because they aimed more at verse than
perfection, as may be easily gathered by their
frequent impressions and numerous pages." These
lowly and grateful words have been pushed far
beyond their meaning and intention, traditional
criticism ignorautly finding in them a profession
of indebtedness to Herbert as a poet, while it was
only spiritual good the Silurist owned. Accord-
ingly in my edition of his Works1 1 have vindi-
cated for Henry Vaughan not his originality
merely, but his well-nigh infinite supremacy over
Herbert in all that goes to constitute the abori-
ginal poet ; and the more I study him the more I
feel what an outrage it is to place " Silex Scin-
tillans," " Olor Iscanus," and " Thalia Eediviva "
beneath " The Temple." But while this is so, and
while Henry Vaughan in almost every way bulks
out a larger-souled, more nobly-dowered poet, it
is very satisfying to find how our " sweet singer"
ministered consolation and peace to him in that
" valley of the shadow of death" from which he
came up ; as earlier the same " little volume "
was a soothing companion to unhappy Charles
[I.] in his prison ;2 and later to William Cow per,
' Onr edition of Henry Vanghan'g " Complete Works, Verse and
I Prose," 4 vols., Fuller Worthies' Library.
1 Dibdin. in his " Library Companion." p. 703, says : " The second
,.| and best edition of Herbert's Poems appeared in 1633, in a slender
I duodecimo volume. I have seen more than one beautiful copy of the
ill pious volume, which has brought as much as £4 it., in a delicately
. I rul<-.l and thickly gilt ornamented condition ; and in some snch cou-
> •Iditiun there is good reason to believe that Charles I. possessed it.
I In.ii-ril his own copy of it, in bine mororoo with rich gold tooling,
^1 was once, I learn, in the library of Tom Martin, of Palgrare." Sir
Thomas Herbert, in his " Carolina Threuodia, or Remains of the
cxi MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
when he wrestled with despair and suicide, as he
himself tells us in his fragment of autobiography,
as follows :
"I was struck, not long after my settlement in the Temple, with
such a dejection of spirits as none but they who have felt the same
can have the least conception of. Day and night I was on the rack;
lying down in horror, and rising up in despair. I presently lost all
relish for those studies to which I had before been closely attached.
The classics had no longer any charms for me ; I had need of some-
thing more salutary than amusement, but I had no one to direct me
where to find it. At length I met with Herbert's poems, and Gothic
and uncouth as they were, I yet found in them a strain of piety ,
which I could not but admire. This was the only author I hail any
delight in reading. I pored over him all day long ; and though I
found not here what I might have found — a cure for my malady — yet j
it never seemed so much alleviated as while I was reading him."
The writings of Herbert continued to be " in
print" from generation to generation, and hence
must have had a place in many homes and
hearths. You come on not unfrequent citations
from " The Temple " in more especially godly
Nonconformist authors. Thus, in Dr. Bryan's
" Dwelling with God, the Interest and Duty of
Believers," 1670 — that book which is one of the
very few known by his autograph on a copy to
have been in the library of John Bunyaii — p
on page is brightened with " apples of gold "
from " The Temple's" " basket-work of silver;"1
and it were not hard to multiply similar recogni-
tions of Herbert in the way that Dr. Samuel!
Johnson pronounced to be the " highest compli-
ment you could pay an author," viz. to quote!
him. But you do not meet with his name inj
the usual biographic and literary authorities.!
Far inferior names occur and recur; his does!
not. I have been specially struck with the ab-j
sence of so much as one hearty sentence about!
Two Last Years of Charles the First," names " Herbert's Poems '
aranng the books which the monarch-prisoner read must frequently. 1
1 See a Paper by me, in " Leisure Hour " (October, Ib73), oil
Book that belonged to John Bunyan" (pp. 686-88).
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. cxli
him, or quotation from him, by a divine of his
own church; and, curiously enough, the thing
remains to-day very much the same. For while
Coleridge has shown that the competent reader
of Herbert must not only be a Christian, devout
and devotional, as well as the subject of poetical
sensibility and culture, but further (to give his
own words) " must be an affectionate and dutiful
child of the Church [of England], and from habit,
conviction, and a constitutional predisposition to
ceremoniousness in piety as well as in manners,
find her forms and ordinances aids to religion,
not sources of formality ; for religion is the ele-
ment in which he lives and the region in which
he moves " — it is simple matter-of-fact that the
only approaches to adequate critical estimates of
George Herbert have been from the hearts and
pens of Nonconformists. Witness the often-
quoted essays of our own day, in Dr. Samuel
Brown and Dr. George Macdonald, Professor
Nichol and George Gilfillan, as compared with
the jejune and captious notice of even such-au-
one as Keble : of the last, more anon.
There is a gap between Baxter and Vaughan
and further noticeable mention of George Herbert
of fully a century. Headley's criticism was the
first to break the long silence ; and churchman
though he was, it is an impertinence exceeded only
by its characteristic shallowness ; e. g. " ' The
Temple' is a compound of enthusiasm without
sublimity, and conceit without ingenuity or'
imagination " (" Select Specimens," 2 vols. 8vo.,
1810). Deplorable to say, across the Atlantic,
Henry Neele is found indolently all but accept-
ing the imbecile verdict (" Lectures on English
Poets").
One cannot wonder that "The Temple" fell
cxlii MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
out of sight comparatively during the eighteenth
century; for as the "Christian Remembrancer"
(as before, p. 106) observes : " His style was too
abrupt and unadorned for their elaborately
rounded periods, his religious aspirations too
glowing for their decorous conventionalities, his
theology too patristic for their latitudinarianism,
and, we may add, his thoughts at once too pro-
found and too rudely chiselled for their polished
but superficial philosophy." To be read cum
grano salis, seeing that Butler and Jonathan
Edwards belong to the century: yet relatively
true. Of its criticism the " Christian Remem-
brancer" (as before, p. 127) observes: " Warton,
in a strange confusion of metaphors, speaks of
Pope 'judiciously collecting gold from the <i
of Herbert, Crashaw,' &c. It would be nearer
the mark to say that Pope had penetration to
detect the rich unpolished ore strewn at random
in Herbert's poems, and skill to give it new
lustre by the charm of his elaborate workman-
ship." Who doubts* this, let him read the
"Church Porch" and "Essay on Man" in the
light of each other.
It is not until our own time that George
Herbert has received his due crown of prai
Hallam — as so often — has not a line to spare for
George Herbert as a poet, and is wooden and
unsympathetic on the one book of his which he
glances at, although he turns aside to pay pre-
posterous praise to a " friend" bearing the name
of Herbert, for a poem yclept " Attilla;" others
are supercilious and ignorant ; and others foel
repelled by the man's accusing sanctity. But
Coleridge stooped his broad forehead to do
honour to the poet and to the saint, and by
sheer insistence talked many, who never would
MKMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. Clliii
have opened his pages, into studying him, and
that sufficed ; for if you once really read " The
Temple" a spell is on you, and you are held
captive, as were his listeners by the " Ancient
Mariner." Passing the " lofty praise " of Dr.
Samuel Brown and others by the necessities of
our waning space,1 I must content myself with
the well-weighed summary of the " Christian
Remembrancer" (as before): —
" We have been reluctant to quit a subject BO
fascinating. Men like George Herbert are rare.
It is not his wide learning, nor his refined taste,
nor his high spirit, nor his amiability, nor even
his strictness of life ; it is not any of these quali-
ties singly that distinguishes him, but the rare
combination in one person of qualities so diversely
beautiful. He was ' master of all learning,
human and divine.' So writes his brother, Lord
Herbert of Cherbury, and his Remains, few as
they are, confirm this eulogy ; yet his learning is
not what strikes the reader most.itis so thoroughly
controlled and subordinated by his lively wit and
practical wisdom. He was exemplary in the do-
mestic relations of life, ' tender and true,' as sou,
husband, friend ; yet he seems to have lived as a
'home missionary' among his parishioners. He
was a man of letters, yet ever condescending to
the petty concerns of his poor ignorant clients ;
an ambitious man, yet he relinquished all worldly
objects for the humble work of the ministry. He
was, in a word, a man of extraordinary endow-
ments, both personal and such as belonged to his
rank — not lost in indolence nor wasted in trivi-
alities, but all disciplined and cultivated to the
1 In our full " Essay on the Life and Writings of Herbert " (vol. ii.
pp. cxv.-cxxiii.) are tributes to Herbert from Dr. Samuel Brown,
Profestor Nichul, (ieurge Gilfillan, and others.
cxliv MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
utmost, and then devoted to the highest pur-
poses. Men of a less evenly -balanced genius may
create a greater sensation in the world; as the
eccentric course of a comet may attract more
notice than steadier and less startling luminaries. ,
But it may be questioned whether the influence j
of men like George Herbert is not wider and !
deeper, though less perceptible, in the end. From j
them come the hidden watercourses of thought
and action that irrigate the world with ever fresh
supplies of life and vigour by innumerable un-
noticeable rills, preserving its morality from cor- j
ruption and stagnation. The influence of those 1
who possess Herbert's natural ability, combined ]
with his solidity of character, cannot be measured j
by what we see. It is to men of this metal th;it ,
England owes her greatness — men, like him, of j
high spirit, strict principle, genial practical energy I
— men who, over and above other fine qualities, I
are strong in that reality and earnestness on I
which we are apt to pride ourselves as peculiarly I
English " (p. 137). This also might have been |
added, that, while thoroughly a man of his age,
George Herbert, even when at Court, partook of
none of its stains. He would fain have won
high place there; was not conscience-driven from
it, as was Eichard Baxter later when introduced
by Sir Henry Herbert ; yet was he pure and
true:
" not mixt
With th' Age's torrent, but still clear and fixt ;
As gentle oyl upon the streams doth glide.
Not mingling with them, though it smooth the tide ; " '
so that, as William Bell sang of William Cart-
wright, " The priest may own all that the poet
writ." Thus is it that these odd antique books
1 Cartwright : " To the memory of Sir Henry Spelman," p. 310.
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. cxlv
hold their own amid all ebbing and flowing of
opinion and circumstance :
" though dumb
Thy picturesque old language, long outworn,
And spoken now by none of woman born,
. . . Thy work, like some naive early fresco, keeps
Its first cjuaint charm — its feelings fresh as morn :
Its mythic flowers, whose roots are in the deeps
Of Truth ; and from which, though they seem t' adorn
Alone, deep inward meanings Wisdom reaps." *
One could as soon conceive the skylark's singing
or the primrose's beauty to pall, as one stone of
" The Temple " to be suffered to moss over or to
go to decay. Their very modesty and unpretence
secure the undyiugness of Herbert's writings,
and especially his verse :
" like the ivy, it grows
Around neglected things : to beautify
The commonplace, and touch with poesy
The Daily and the Homely — and it throws
Its large affections, tendril-like and close,
Round the familiar hopes and fears whereby
The household bosom of Humanity
Is touched, at round the cottage-porch the rote." *
I would draw these Estimates to a close with
(a) the " Christian Remembrancer's" compari-
son of Herbert and Keble ; (6) Archbishop
Leighton's notes in his copy of " The Temple ; "
(c) Coleridge's notes on Herbert ; (d) Various
Readings in the Williams MS. — gathering up
the little all as we do filings of gold.
(a) GEORGE HERBERT, JOHN KEBLE, AND COWPEB,
" To compare Herbert with the colossal genius
of Milton would be preposterous. He is more
nearly on a par with the others whom we have
mentioned. If he wants their polished and mu-
sical diction, and is comparatively deficient in
the variety of natural imagery and the tenderness
1 Henry Ellison : " To Herodotus/ p. Ml. » 76. " My Poetry."
cxlvi MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
of domestic pathos which belong to the poets of
Olney and Hursley, he may be ranked above
Keble in terseness and vigour, while his mauly
cheerfulness is a delightful contrast to the morbid
gloom which throws its chilling shade over many
of Cowper's most beautiful passages. In the
general characteristics of profound and reflective
philosophy, Herbert and Trench [Archbishop oi
Dublin] may be classed together. Between Her-
bert and Keble the resemblance is still more
striking. The influence of the older poet is very
perceptible throughout the ' Christian Year,' —
here and there in the very words of it. It is in-
teresting to trace the coincidences [?] of these
kindred minds. In the ' Flower,' which Coleridge
calls ' a delicious poem,' Herbert rejoices in the
return of Spring to the earth, and of Spring-like
feelings to his own heart, and proceeds :
' These are Thy wonders, Lord of power.
Killing and quickning, bringing down to hell
And up tu heaven in an honre.
We say amisse
This or that is ;
Thy Word is all, if we could spell.'
In almost the same words, Keble exclaims :
' These are Thy wonders hourly wrought,
Thou Lord of time and thought ;
Lifting and lowering souls at will,
Crowding a world of good or ill
Into a moment's vision.' (Sixth 8. after Trinity).
In another place Keble expresses the longing
such as even heathen philosophers felt, for the
glorious emancipation of the immortal nature o:
man from its earthly elements :
' Till every limb obey the mounting soul,
The mounting soul the call by Jesus given .
He, Who the stormy heart can so control,
The laggard body soon will waft to heaven. -
(Twenty-third 8. after Trinity.)
I
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. cxlvii
The same thought occurs in Herbert :
' Give me my captive soul, or take
My body »l»o thither!
Another lift like this will make
Them both to be together.'
lu both poets alike we see a natural inclination
towards the attractions of the world checked by
self-discipline :
' I thought it scorn with Thee to dwell,
A hermit in a silent cell.
While, gaily sweeping by.
Wild Fancy blew his bogle strain,
And marshalled all his gallant train
In the world's wondering eye.
I wonld have joined him, bnt as oft
Thy whispered warnings kind and soft
My better soul confest.
"My servant, leave the world alone ;
Safe on the steps of Jeans' throne
Be tranquil and be blest." ' (First 8. after Trinity.)
So in ' The Quip,' which we have already re-
ferred to :
• The merrie World did on a day
With his train-bauds and mates agree
To meet together where I lay.
And all in sport to jeer at me.'
And the ' merrie World,' in the person of his re-
presentatives, 'Beauty,' 'Money,' ' Wit,' tries all
his allurements, but in vain. Herbert writes, in
his poem on ' Giddinesse:'
' Sorely, if each one saw another's heart.
There would be no commerce,
No sale and bargain passe : all wonld disperse
And live apart. '
Keble has expressed the same idea more fully in
his beautiful lines for the Twenty-fourth Sunday
after Trinity :
• Or, what if Heaven for once its searching light
Sent to some partial eye, disclosing all
The rude bad thought* thut in onr bocoin's might
Wander at large, nur heed love's gentle thrall.
cxlviii MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
Who would not shun the dreary uncouth place ?
As if, fond leaning where her infant slept,
A mother's arm a serpent should embrace ;
Bo might we friendless live, and die unwept.'
In both poets the consecutiveness of the ideas is
often far from obvious, and must be sought be-
neath the surface. In Herbert there is less peri-
phrasis in the expression of devotional feelings.
Such outbursts as — •
' Oh ! my dear God, though I am clean forgot,
Let me not love Thee, if I love Thee not,'
cannot be paralleled in Keble ; they are charac-
teristic of Herbert and of his age.
" These parallel passages are interesting as
marking the similarity of character which sub-
sists in great and good men, even of very dis-
tinct individualities. The admirers of the
' Christian Year' will find much in ' The Temple'
to remind them of their favourite passages. If
' The Temple ' is never likely to exercise the ex-
traordinary influence of the ' Christian Year ' —
an influence on the religious mind of England
greater than has ever been exercised by any book
of the kind, — an influence extending itself im-
perceptibly even to quarters seemingly most alien
— still it is a book to make a deep impression,
when it impresses at all ; and its influence is of a
kind to percolate through the few to the many.
" The resemblance between Herbert and Cow-
per is fainter; or rather, a strong resemblance
is qualified by equally strong traits of difference.
Both poets have much in common with Horace,
strange as any comparison may appear at first
sight between them and the pagan poet of the
licentious court of Augustus. They have no
small share of his lyrical fervour, his adroitness
iu the choice of words, and in the adaptation of
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. cxlix
metres ; and in satire, the same light touch, the
same suppressed humour, the same half-sportive,
half-pensive strictures on the anomalies of life.
Both Herbert and Cowper love to dwell on the
transitoriness of earthly pleasures ; but there is
this difference: Herbert oftener adds that man
may enjoy them in moderation while they last :
' Not that be may not here
Taste of the cheer ;
Bat as birds drink, and straight lift np their head.
So must he sip, and think
Of better drink
He may attain to after he is dead.'
" Both poets complain alike of times of reli-
gious depression ; but Herbert's lyre is more
often tuned to joy and thankfulness for refresh-
ment and relief. He was naturally of a more
hopeful temperament. But there are other
causes to account for the difference. That dis-
trustful dread of alienation from the favour of
Heaven, which, in religious minds of Cowper's
school, seems even to overcloud the sense of
reconciliation through the Cross, was no part of
Herbert's creed. On the contrary, it was the
very essence of his faith, a source of unfailing
strength, to regard himself and his fellow-
Christians as having all the privileges of adop-
tion within reach freely to enjoy. Again, while
poor Cowper's mental vision was for ever intro-
verted on himself, and busied with that dissection
of transient phases of feeling which paralyzes the
healthy action of the soul, Herbert's glance was
ofteuer turned to the great objective truths of
Christianity, deriving from them support in the
consciousness of infirmity. Here is the secret of
the cheerfulness of his poetry. The vivid realisa-
tion of the great external facts of Christianity is
•what distinguishes him from the ' erotic school '
cl MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
of Germany, But for this he might be classed
with many of the poets of the ' Lyra Germauica.'
But his poetry, though instinct with the same
glow of seraphic love, is more definite, more
practical, less sentimental. There is in it more
substance for the mind to take hold of, more
suggestiveness of something beyond, less evapo-
ration into mere transports of emotion. His ex-
pressions of devout love, however eager and im-
pulsive, are always (as in a short poem called
' Artillerie') profoundly reverential. Love and
obedience, faith and duty, are with him in-
separable. This habitual attitude of mind toward
the Deity, this filial feeling of love tempered by
awe, is beautifully apparent in the closing lines
of another poem :
' Bat as I grew more fierce and wild.
At every word
Methonght I heard one calling " i
And I replied, " My Lord 1 >v'"
Childe! "
(pp. 131-134.)
1 venture to add, that in the ending of one of the
" Parentalia " poems there is a fine parallel with
the last quotation, as thus :
" . . . . Tandem prehensa oomiter lacernnla
Snsnrrat aure qoispiam,
Haec fuerat olirn potio Domini tui
Gusto proboqae doliam." (p. 393.)
With reference to Cowper and Keble, it is very
satisfying to have the former's almost adoring
expression of indebtedness to " The Temple "-
as given already ; while it is disappointing, if
not more, with all our veneration for the latter,
that he had nothing more to say of Herbert than
to transfer to him his own pervading fault of " a
constant flutter of his fancy, for ever hovering
round and round the theme" (Prsalectiones Aca-
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. cli
demicac, xx. 12) — a fault instinctively dealt with
by the Church everywhere, by excision — as of
the " flutter of fancy " in opening hie truly sweet
and beautiful hymn, instead of bursting out at
once as Herbert would have done — " Sun of my
soul ! " The " Christian Year " is infinitely in-
debted within and on the surface, in its thinking
and emotion and wording, to "The Temple;"
and one reads the poor criticism of the " Prae-
lectioues " with a pain correspondent to that
with which one reads Campbell's condemnation
of Henry Vaughau — while pilfering from him.
I must also be permitted to demur to the closing
remarks on the imagined non-objective character
of Cowper's poetry in relation to the Crosg and
cognate doctrines. Personally, the dark shadow
of insanity held him in subjective misery and
hopelessness certainly ; but the peculiarity is,
that through all, his eye saw clearly the grand
outstanding facts. Be it remembered that, as
Cowper wrote it (not as hymn-book compilers
mutilate), " There is a fountain filled with blood"
reads gloriously and gratefully thus :
" The dying thief rejoiced to see
That Fountain in his day ;
And there have 1, though vile as be,
WasliM all my sins away."
His subjective anguish Cowper kept to himself.
His poetry is all radiant with the light of the
objective, and is as definite and articulate as
Herbert's, or any of our poets.
(6) ABCHBISHOP LEIGHTON'S NOTES ON HIS COPY OP
"THE TEMPLE,"
Dr. Burgon, in his " Life of Patrick Fraser
Tytler," in giving an account of that historian's
visit to the Leigh ton Library at Dunblane, makes
clii MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
the following statement : " This visit, I remem-
ber, delighted him much ; and he brought away
an interesting memorial of it by transcribing the
abundant notes with which Leighton has enriched
his copy of Herbert's Poems." * It is not to be won-
dered at that such an intimation as " abundant
notes " by so preeminent and like-minded a man
as Leighton on so congenial a " little book," ex-
cited interest in all Christian and literary circles.
Investigation very soon dispelled the pleasing
hope of a real addition to that most covetable of
our book treasures, " Marginalia," after the type
of Selden long ago, and Coleridge recently. Me-
mory (" I remember " is the biographer's phrase)
must have given a larger meaning to Tytler's
spoken words than those warranted. At least
Leighton's copy of "The Temple" (the edition of
1634, and the only early one that ever belonged
to the Library) does not contain a single note in
the proper sense of the term, id est, on George
Herbert. Yet are his jottings of patristic quota-
tions and references, suggested to the good bishop
as he read, worthy of permanent record ; the
more especially as, after a first loss and recovery
of the volume, it has again disappeai-ed — surely
through culpable negligence of the trustees of
the Leightonian Library.2 The following details
1 The Portrait of a Christian Gentleman : a Memoir of P. F.
Tytler, 1859 ; p. 250.
2 The Letters referred to are from the Rev. James Boe, of the
Kirk of Scotland, Dunblane, and are dated 24th November and 24th
December, 1859; and to the Times. December 24th, 18-"9. The
volume was then in the Library, and the Notes were transcribed by
the late Mr. Boe (who died in 18*>). with praiseworthy careiuluess,
indeed in facsimile, so as to authenticate the handwriting as Leigh-
tun's own. Now, on repeated inquiries, the volume is not to In
Surely the representatives of Mr. Boe ought to !»• communicated
with. In all likrliho.ii! it was inadvertently retained among his own
books. Dr. Walter C. Smith ot Glasgow, in ignorance ,>( Mr. Hoe's
letter to the Times, has this pungent note to " The 1'ishop's Walk:"
" .Mr. Burgoii states in his ' Life o» P. F. Tytler,' that a copy of
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. cliii
are derived from private letters and public ad-
dressed to B. H. Beedham, Esq., Ashfield House,
Kimbolton, and to the Time*, with which I have
been favoured. As stated above, the edition was
that of 1634 ("the Third"), and on the blank
page, fronting the first verses of " The Church
Porch," are these two quotations in Greek from
Gregory Naziauzen :
»» TO TIKfOV T«»
TO Tifrvcv o7*uu TOO uXou crowumyoi oXlM-* Mu Turovyrff fc
NAZ.
These are connected with stanza i. 11. 5, 6, by
a cross mark in each case :
" A verse may flnde him who a sermon flies.
And turn delight into a sacrifice."
In the former it will be seen that the old Father,
having previously spoken of the persuasive in-
fluence of verse over certain classes of persons,
in leading them to the practice of what is worthy
and profitable, represents the versifier as " skil-
fully sweetening the bitter or unacceptable parts
of his moral precepts by presenting them in an
agreeable or attractive form." In the latter,
having adduced the example of the ancients and
of even not a few of the authors of the books of
Holy Scripture, who composed their writings in
verse, he suggests the following reason : " Those
1 Herbert's Poems, with notes by Leighton, once existed in the Library
at Dunblane. It certainly is not there now; and I take this oppor-
tunity of again advertising all whom it may concern, that if they do
not return it, all literature will persecute them " (p. 138). The loss
| , of Herbert's Poems recalls a wish of Mr. Allen, of Prees, Shrew s-
' bury, " that those volumes which contain Leighton's notes (not, as I
• ••, a very Urge number) conld be carefully catalogued by them-
selves, and pnt under closer restrictions as to loan than the other
volumes that could be easily replaced." Certainly the Trustees of
the Leightonian Library owe it to themselves — (1) to spare no effort
| to recover Leighton's Herbert's Poems ; (2) to show a more adequate
appreciation of the inestimablencss of the Leighton-noted books in
their custody
1
cliv MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
persons, as I imagine, making that which is
pleasant the vehicle of that which is excellent,
and teaching morals by means of verses or of
acceptable songs." The apostolic words, " being
crafty I caught you with guile" (2 Cor. iv. 16),
and that he " might by all means save some "
(1 Cor. ix. 22), adumbrate the principle. Other
jottings are on the fly-leaves, without mark or
reference, as follow :
(1) f^uKfov xoJ iravra XjXoarou.
(2) oixoi yiwitJ.w-
(3) Eripe me his, invicte, mails.
The last of these, which is found in several of
Leighton's books, was suggested no doubt by the
" evil days" on which his meek spirit was fallen.
Others have been scratched out and are illegible.
Besides these small notes, round pencil-marks
(dots) abound ; but it is impossible to say whether
they were made by Leighton. If it be disap-
pointing that for " abundant notes" we must be
content with these very slight things, it is satis-
factory to have all that really exists (or existed).
But the published works of Archbishop Leighton
contain a number of allusive quotations from
Herbert that it seems well to bring together.
There are these from the Commentary upon the
First Epistle of St. Peter. (1) " This is the form
and life of actions, that by which they are earthly
or heavenly. Whatsoever be the matter of them,
the spiritual mind hath that alchemy indeed of|
turning base metals into gold, earthly employ-
ments into heavenly" (c. ii. 18-20). The tacit j
reference is to " The Elixir.-"
" This is the famons stone
That turneth all to gold ;
For that which God doth towh and own
Cannot for less be told."
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. dv
(2) " What is all knowledge but painted folly in
comparison of this? Hiulst tliou Solomon's faculty
to discourse of all plants, and hadst not the right
knowledge of this Boot of Jesse ; wert thou singu-
lar in the knowledge of the stars and of the course
of the heavens, and couldst walk through the
spheres with a Jacob's staff [=r Cross Staff], but
ignorant of this Star of Jacob ; if thou knewest
the histories of all time, and the life and death
of all the most famous princes, and could rehearse
them all, but dost not spiritually know and apply
to thyself the death of Jesus as thy life, — thou
art still a wretched fool, and all thy knowledge
with thee shall quickly perish" (c. ii. 24). The
entire passage recalls the opening of " The
Agony : "
" Philosopher* have measured mountains.
Fathomed the depths of seas, of states and kings,
Walked with a staff to Heaven, and traced fountains :
But there are two vast, spacious things
The which to measure it doth more behove.
Yet few there are that sound them — Sin and Love."
(3) " He who sends oftenest out those " ships of
desire," who makes the most voyages to that land
of spices and pearls, shall be sure to improve his
stock most, and have most of heaven upon earth"
(c. iv. 7). So Herbert calls prayer itself " the
land of spices " (19. Prayer). (4) " In this lower
world it is man alone that is made capable of
showing the glory of God, and of offering Him
praises. He expresses it well who calls man
•the World's High Priest;' all the creatures
bring their oblations of praise to him, to offer up
for them and for himself, for whose use and com-
fort they are made" (c. v. 11). Leighton had
thus singled out Herbert's " Providence," where
we read :
clvi MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
" Man is the world's High-Priest ; he doth present
The sacrifice for all ; while they below
Unto the service mutter an assent,
Such as springs nse that fall, and winds that blow."
The Sermons and Lectures also give these : (5)
" This He does infallibly and uncontrolably, yet
in such a way as there is nothing distorted or
violenced. Fortiter et suaviter — strongly and
sweetly, all is so done" (on Jeremiah x. 23-25).
So Herbert apostrophises " Providence : "
" O sacred Providence, who from end to end
Strongly and sweetly movest."
Both followed the Vulgate (Sap. viii. 1) : " At-
tingit a fine usque ad finem fortiter, et disponit
orrmia suaviter." (6) " He is admirable in all :
the very lowest and smallest creatures have their
wonders of Divine wisdom in their frame more
than we are able to think. Magnus in minimu —
He is great in the least of His works" (Exp. Lect.
on Psalm viii.). So again in " Providence : "
" Thon art in small things great, not small in any ;
Thy even praise can neither rise nor fall ;
Thou art in all things One, in each thing many ;
For Thon art infinite in one and all. "
(7) " The sea fitted for navigation . . . and the
impetuousuess of it, yet confined and forced
to roll in its channel so that it cannot go forth ;
the small sands giving check to the great waters"
(ibid.). So once more in " Providence :"
" Thon hast made poor sand
Check the prond sea, even when it swells and gathers."
(8) " Thou mindest him in all these things ; the
works above him, even in the framing of these
heavens, the moon and the stars, designing his
good; Thou makest all attend and serve him"
(ibid.). So in " Man :"
" Man is one world, and hath
Another to attend him."
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. clvii
(9) " The Church of Rome hate it for their com-
mon shift ; they have Bhut out the heart from
this employment, where it hath most interest, by
praying in an unknown tongue ; and this defect
they make up with long continuance and repeti-
tion of Pater -nosters, with a devotion as cold and
dead as the beads they drop" (Exp. of the Lord's
Prayer). This reminds of Herbert's " only beads "
(Glossary, s.v.). (10) "This [Sunday] is the
loveliest, brightest day in all the week to a
spiritual mind. These rests refresh the soul in
God, that finds nothing but turmoil in the »rea-
ture. Should not this day be* welcome* to the
soul, that sets it free to mind its own business,
which is on other days to attend the business of
its servant, the body? And these are a certain
pledge to it of that expected freedom, when it
shall enter into an eternal sabbath, and rest in
Him for ever, Who is the only rest of the soul "
(Exp. of the Ten Commandments.) This was
inspired by
"O Day most calm, most bright I "
With these jottings and references before us,
it will be felt that most fitting it is that in " The
Bishop's Walk" Leigh ton should be introduced
as reading (among others) George Herbert, thus :
" Two hundred yean have come and gone
Since that fine spirit mused alone
On the dim walk, with faint green shade
By the light-quivering ash-leaves made.
And saw the sun go down
Beyond the mountains brown.
" Slow-paring, with a lowly look.
Or gazing on the lettered book
Of Taylor, or a- Kempis, or
Meek Herbert with his dulcimer.
In quaintly pious vein
Rehearsing a deep strain." ' (p. 13.)
1 There are other tacit reminiscences of Herbert in Leighton's
Works; but both read in the same line and were of kindred head and
clviii MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
(c) NOTES BY S. T. COLERIDGE ON HERBERT'S POEMS.
From Pickering's edition of 1835.
G. Herbert is a true poet, hut a poet sui generis, the merits of
whose poems will never b» felt without a sympathy with the mind
and character of the man. To appreciate this volume, it is not enough
that the reader possesses a cultivated judgment, classical taste, or
even poetic sensibility, unless ht- be likewise a Christum, and both a
zealous and an orthodox, both a devout and a devotional Christian.
But even this will not quite suffice. He must be an affectionate anil
dutiful child of the Church, and from habit, conviction, and a consti-
tutional predisposition to ceremoniousness, in piety as in manners,
find her forms and ordinances aids of religion, not sources of for-
mality; for religion is the element in which he lives, and the region
in which he moves.
The Church — say, rather, the Churchmen of England under the
first two Stuarts — has been charged with a yearning after the Romish
fop|>eries and even the papistic usurpations; but we shall drcid.'
more correctly, as well as more charitably, if for the Romish and
papistic we substitute the patristic leaven. There even was (natural
enough, from their distinguished learning and knowledge of eccle-
siastical antiquities) an overrating of the Church and of the Kath-rs
for the first five or even six centuries ; the lines on the Egyptian
monks, "Holy Macarius and great Anthony" supply a striking
instance and illustration of this.
Vol. i. p. 21, st. xlviii. I do not understand this stanza.
P. 52, 1. 25. " My flesh began unto my sonl in pain." Either a
misprint or a noticeable idiom of the word "began"? Yes : mid
estantism, ot this anti-scnptural superstition.
P. 65, 1. 19. "This verse marks that," &c. The spiritual unity
of the Bible = the order and connexion of organic forms, in which
the unity of life is shown, though as widely dispersed in the world of
the mere sight ; as the text.
P. 65, 1. 21. " Then, as dispersed herbs do watch, a potion." Some
misprint. [See our Notes and Illustrations.]
P. 99, 1. 10. " A box where," &c. Nest.
P. 103, 1. 39. "Distinguished." I understand this but imperfectly.
Distinguished they form an island ? and the next lines refer perhaps
to the then belief that all fruits grow and are nourished by water?
bat then how is the ascending sap " our cleanliness " ?
heart. It was to the present writer a sad stern duty to expose the
well-meant but practically worthless edition of Archbishop Leigh-
ton's writings, edited by the Rev. William West, of Nairn. His
laboriousness and enthusiasm are neutralized by the pervading cor-
ruption of his author's text, under a delusion of " improvement " A
concluding volume of sermons is a curiosity of literature in its en-
forced enumeration of (literally) hundreds on hundreds of departures
from Leighton's own words in the preceding volumes. Certes, here
is our revenge, if revenge had been sought, as it was not. The long
. tale of admitted errors and alterations is our ample vindication lor
the severest things said by us.
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. clix
P. 1M, 1. 21. "But He doth bid in take His bloorl for wine."
Nay, the contrary ; take wine to be blood, and the blood of a mau
who died 1800 years ago. This is the faith which even the Church of
England demands; for Consubstautiation only adds a mystery to
that of Ti iiii.-ukstiiutiutmn, which it implies.
Pp. 190-92. "The Flower." A delicuna poem.
P. IS* >, 1. 4. " The late-past frosts tributes of pleasure bring."
Epitritus primns + Dactyl +Tro<-hee + a long monosyllable, which
together with the pause intervening between it and the preceding
trochee, equals .. o ^ , form a pleasing variety in the Pentameter
Iambic with rhymes. Ex. gr.
The late past frosts | tributes of | pleasure bring,
N.B. First, the difference between — »J — and an amphimarer
— „ — | and this not always or necessarily arising out of the latter
being one word. It may even consist of three words : yet the effect
be the same. It is the pause that mikes the difference. Secondly,
the expediency, if not necessity, that the first syllable both of the
Dactyl and the Trochee should be short by quantity, and only long
by force of accent or position — the Epitrite being true lengths.
Whether the last syllable be long or short, the force of the rhymes
renders indifferent.
P. ISK), 1. 7. " As if there were no fuck cold thing." Had been no
such thing.
P. 1SW, 1. 5. " That choice," &c. Their.
P. 1S)9, 1. 18. " E'en in my enemies' sight." Foemen's.
P. 21rt, 1. 7. " That they in merit shall excel." I should not have
expected from Herbert so open an avowal of Romanism in the article
of merit. [A misprint " here " for " hear " misled Coleridge. See
our Notes and Illustrations in loco.] In the same spirit is holy Ma-
carius and great Anthony.
Besides these Notes-proper, Coleridge has pass-
ing tributes elsewhere to Herbert as Poet as well
as Man : e.g. in " The Friend" (vol. i. p. 53) :
" Let me add, that the quaintness of some of his
thoughts, not of his diction, than which nothing
can be more pure, manly, and unaffected, has
blinded modern readers to the general merits of
his poems, which are for the most part exquisite
in their kind." Similarly in " Biographia Lite-
raria," he speaks of the '• weight, number, and
compression of Herbert's thoughts, and the sim-
ple dignity of the language : " and he wrote to
his friend Collins the Painter : " Bead ' The Tem-
ple,' if you have not read it." Again : " The
characteristic of our elder poets is the reverse
of that which distinguishes more recent versi-
clx MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
fiers ; the one (Herbert and his school) conveying
the most fantastic thoughts in the most correct
and natural language ; the other, in the most
fantastic language conveying the most trivial
thoughts. The latter is a riddle of words, the
former an enigma of thoughts."
(d) VARIOUS BEADINGS FROM THE WILLIAMS
LIBRARY AND THE BODLEIAN MSS.
Earlier I give an account of the two Manuscripts
whence the following Various Eeadings, with oc-
casionally considerable additions — none hitherto
printed — are drawn. The order of the successive
poems as given iii the MS. is followed; but the num-
ber prefixed to each corresponds with that in our
text, so that the given poem can readily be turned
up thereby. It seemed expedient to adhere to the
order of the MS. in giving its various readings,
especially as at the same time it shows the se-
quence as well as the contents of the MS. Except
in a few noticeable instances mere differences of
orthography are passed over; but the opening
stanza of " The Church," which is headed " The
Dedication " in the two MSS., from the Williams
MS., may be here given as a specimen of its ortho-
graphy. The italicised letters show the differ-
ences as compared with 1632-3 texts and later :
THE DEDICATION.
" Lord, my first fruits present themselues to thee :
Yet not nii/nu neither, for from thee they came
And must returne : accept of them aud mee,
And make va striue who shall sing best thy name.
Tunic their eyes hither, who shall make a gaine ;
Theirs who shall hurt themselues or me, refrain."
It will be observed that the pronoun is spelled
"me" and "mee;" and so throughout arbitrarily,
and also in the addition or non-addition of a final
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. clxi
e and y for i, and i for y. Those in the Bodleian
MS. follow the Williams.
n. THE CHUKCH POBCH.
St. i L 2, " The price of thee
„ ii-iv.:
" Beware of Lust (startle not), O beware,
It makes thy soule a blott : it is a rodd
Whose twigs are pleasures, and they whip thee bare :
It spoils an Angel : robs thee of thy God.
How dare those eyes vpon a bible looke,
Much lesse towards God, whose Lost a all their book ?
" Abstaine or wedd : if thou canst not abstaine,
Vet Wedding marrs thy fortune, fast and pray :
If this seeme Monkish, think wch brings most paint.
Need or Incontinency : the first way.
If thou chose brauely & rely on God,
He'ele make thy wife a blessing, not a rodd.
" Let not each J^^J, make thee to detest
A Virgin-bed, wch hath a special! crowne
If it concurr wth vertue : doe thy best.
And God will show thee how to take the towne,
And winn thy selfe : Compare the ioyes, & so
If rottennes haue more, Lett heauen goe.
" Drink not the third glass," ic.
In the third stanza above, " motion " is originally
written, and " fancy " placed over it (erased) by
Herbert himself, who has also in second stanza,
L 2, corrected " mares " into " marrs."
St v. 1L 5, 6 :
" The Drunkard forfeits man, 8c doth devest
All worldlie right sane what bee hath by Beast."
St vi. 1. 2, " his rains :" Herbert erases " his,"
and writes above, " the."
St vL L 3, "kinds" for "kinde" — which I
have adopted.
Ib. 1L 5, 6 :
" Hee that has ill, & ran haue no good
Because uu knun U-Jg, is uot earth, bat mndd."
clxii MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
St. vii. L 4, "A paine in that:" "of" is origi-
nally written, and " in " put above it (erased) by
Herbert.
St. x L 3, " cheating " for " avarice."
„ xiv. 1. 3, " If those be all thy day . . ."
„ xv. 1. 3, " chawes" for " jawes." See Bod-
leian MS. readings at close of these Williams MS.
readings.
St. xv. 1, 4, "employment" for " employments"
— which I have adopted.
After xv. is this stanza, not hitherto printed :
" If thon art nothing, think what thon wouldst bee :
Hee that desires is more theu halfe ye way :
But if thon coole, then take some shame to thee,
Desire and shame will make thy labour play.
This is Earth's language, for if heauen come in,
Thou 1ms t run all thy race ere thou beginn."
St. xvi. 1.1, "0 England, full of all sinn, most . ."
St. xvii. 1. 4, " All that is left
„ xx 1. 3, " sowre " for " stowre." See Notes
and Illustrations in the place. I adopt " sowre. "
St. xx 1. 6, " And though hee bee a ship, is his
owne shelf:" adopted. Hitherto " What nature
made a ship, he makes a shelf."
St. xxii. L 2, " Tast all, but feed not If thj
stomach call . . . ."
St. xxiii. 1. 2, " does " for " doth."
Ib. 1. 4, " thou " for " you."
St. xxviii. :
" Yett in thy parsing still thy self distrust,
Least gaining gaine on thee, & fill thy hart :
Wch if it cleaue to coine, one common rust
Will canker both, yett thou alone shallt smart:
One common waight will press downe both, yet so
As that thy self alone to hell shall goe."
St. xxx. 1. 4, " clothes " for " cloth "—which I i
adopt.
Ib. 1. 5. See Notes and Illustrations.
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. flxiii
St. xxxiv. 1. 2, "Learn this it hath" originally:
Herbert erases " it," and writes " that."
St. xxxviii. 1. 6, " cleanly, is fame's interest."
„ x xxi x. 1. 4, " thou thy mirth inhauce."
„ xliii. L 1, " respectfull " for " respective."
„ xlv. 1. 1, " base menace " for "basenesse is."
„ xlvi. 1. 5, " art " for " way " — which I adopt ;
albeit " way" as •=. the road of life which friends
travel together, gives a good meaning. But
"art" is finer and deeper, and suggests the cul-
ture and consideration needed.
St. xlvii. 1. 3, " nor :" originally written " not,"
corrected by Herbert into " nor."
St. xlix. 1. 4, " at" for "in " — which I adopt. It
must be borne in mind, however, that Herbert
may have been looking to symmetry in his " ?'«."
We have "by .... by" in line above, and here
"in ... in." Still, " at " is preferable.
St. liii. 11. 5, 6 :
" that Bow doth bin
No more then passion, when ghee talkes of it."
St. Iv. 1. 2, " Need and bee glad, and wish thy
presence still."
St. Iviii. 11. 5, 6. In 1. 5 originally, " I give those
for gone :" Herbert erases " those," and inserts it
before " I give." Line 6 reads :
' They dye in holes where glory never shone."
St lix. 1. 2, "the greatest:" L 3, "thy" for
" thine :" line 4 :
"As swords cause death, so may a litle sting."
I adopt " sting" for " sling." It might be arguod
that agreement must be regarded, and one read-
ing not taken without the other. That is, a
"sword" is a thrusting, wounding weapon, there-
clxiv MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
fore " sting " is its minimum. A " gun " is the
acme of projectile weapons, and of these the rudest
is a " sling." Still I prefer the varying of the
metaphor.
After st Ixi. is the following new stanza :
" Leave not thine owne deere cuntry-cleanlines
For this freneh slnttery, wch so cnrraut goes:
As if none could be brave but who profess
First to be slovens, & forsake their nose :
Let thy minds sweetnes have his operation
Vpon thy body, cloths & habitation."
St. Ixiv. 1. 6, M they" for " both."
„ IxvL 1. 1, "that" for "the" — which I adopt
„ Ixviii. L 5, "stockings" for "stocking"-
which I do not adopt. The phrase is evidently
modelled on the style of a proverbial saying, and
" kneeling . . . stocking " has more of that form
than "stockings."
St. Ixix 1. 5, "Our blessings from vs . . . ."
„ Ixx L 2, " thy " for " thine" — which I adopt.
Ib. 11. 5, 6 :
" others' comlines
Turns all their beauty to his vglines."
St. Ixxi. L 1, " vaine and " for " or " — which Ij
adopt.
St. Ixxvl L 1, "that " for " by "—which I adopt J
HI. SUPEKLIMINAKE.
The first four lines in the Williams MS. is heade
" Perirranterium," the second four " Superlimi-!
nare " — each having a page to itself. See Notes j
and Illustrations in loco.
IV. THE CHUECH.
1. The Altar, 1. 16 : " onely" is originally written
and Herbert erasing it writes "blessed" above
Perhaps " onely " had been better. 2. The Sacri
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. clxv
fice. In 1632-3, after st. ii it rans " Was ever
grief," Ac. So also partially in the Williams MS. ;
but I have printed it in full In 1. 3 Herbert has
filled in " that," inadvertently dropped. In L 57 the
MSS. and 1632-3 alike have " prieste," not " priests "
as usually: as = High-priest, which is prefer-
able. Line 79 is originally " To whose power
Thunder is but weake and slight :" Herbert
erases, and writes above " And onely am the Lord
of Hosts & might" Line 119, " doth " dropped :
"heaven" in full. Line 123, "But not their
harts, as I by proofe doo try." Line 130, " vp "
originally: Herbert erases, and writes "wth." In
ine 129, " him " for "me," and 1. 131, "he " for "L"
Line 169, "gaue mee heretofore" for "gave to me
jefore." Line 171, " issue to the poore " — perhaps
better. Lines 177-8 :
" Yet since in frailty, cruelty, shrowd turns.
All scepters, Beads : Cloths, Scarlet : Crowns are Thorns,
I, who am Truth, turne into truth their scorns."
See Notes and Illustrations in the place. Lines
181-2, " . . . . my Face, Whom Angells "
Line 187, " W'h stronger blows strike mee as I
came out." Line 199 : I have not hesitated to
adopt the Williams MS. reading for the usual text
(as in 1632-3), " The decreed burden of each mor-
tall saint." Line 210, " share " for " part." Line
214, "thou art well pleas'd." Line 217, "My sonle
is full of shame, my flesh of wound." Line 223 :
again I adopt the Williams MS. instead of 1632-3,
" for you to feel" 3. The Thanksgiving. Lines
1 and 3, " Oh " is not in MS. ; L 3, " King of all
Grief," and originally "I shall I :" Herbert erases
" I " and writes " how." Line 11 : I have adopted
the Williams MS. here for 1632-3, " skipping thy
dolefull "—very inferior. Line 20, " in " for " by "
mis -adopted ; but " by," in its formerly common
clxvi MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
sense of " through," is the more correct and
prettier. Ife returns the wealth back to God,
who gave it him, through the poor, making them
the intermediate holder — a variant on giving to
the poor, and lending to the Lord. To give it
back " in " the poor is vague and unidiomalic
English, nor does it call up as clearly as the other
the enriching of the poor and the ultimate inte-
rest of God in it. Line 26, "teare:" originally
" ripp :" Herbert erases, and writes " teare." Line
36, "a" inserted in error in 1632-3 before "fashion :"
removed as in our MS. Line 45, " him " for
" move :" and 1. 46, " thy love therein." 4. The
Second Thanksgiving. I adopt this from the
Williams MS. in preference to " The Reprisall,"
simply as in 1632-3. It is the further poem pro-
mised in 11. 29, 30 of the previous one. Line 14,
" Thy " for " the." I have in text adopted " Thy "
for "the:" but reflection shows " the" to be pre-
ferable. " Thy" conquest is God's conquest ; but
when Herbert says, By doing so, so I will come into
(i. e. take part in, have my part in) the conquest,
he implies by "the" that which is the whole
thought of the poem, viz. that if he cannot con-
quer God, as acknowledged in the previous part,
he will join forces with Him, and be able to say of j
God's conquest over the old man, We fought I
together, and I reap of the glory. 7. Good Friday.
In the Williams MS. the first half of this poem is |
wanting here, though given onwards, but with-
out variations ; the second half is headed
Passion," and commences thus:
" Since nothing, Lord, can bee so good
To write Thy sorrows in as blood,
My "
Line 7, " he may say:" Then :
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. clxvii
" Sinn being gone, o, doe Thon fill
The place, and keep possession still :
For by the writings all may see
Thou hast an ancient claime to mee."
It were pity to lose these various readings.
8. Redemption. This, in the Williams MS.,
follows the above second half of " Good Friday,"
and is entitled, like it, The Passion. In 1L 10, 11
the sis. reads originally:
" Sought him in Citties, Theaters, resorts,
In gruttos, gardens, Palaces Si Courts."
Herbert erases, and writes as we have printed
after 1632-3. 10. Easter. This, in the Williams
MS., follows 6, entitled The Sinner (which in 1. 9
spells " quinessence," and in 1. 11 "hundred").
The first half of Easter has no variants, but the
second is much more daintily touched than the
text of 1632-3. It will be found in its place,
pages 60-1. In st. i L 4, originally it is " And
brought:" Herbert erases, and writes "Bringinge."
11. Easter Wings. Lines 8, 9 originally :
" As Larks doe by degree.
And sing this day thy sacrifice."
Herbert erases, and writes as in printed text.
Lines 12-14 : originally " Yet thou .... Dayly
;, didst .... Till " Herbert erases, and
: writes as in printed text. Line 18, " this day,"
not in MS. 12. Holy Baptisme. The first poem
. on this subject offers large variation throughout,
. and must here be given in full :
H. BAPTISME.
" When backward on my sins I tnrne mine eyes,
And then beyond them all my Baptisme view.
As he yi heaven beyond much thicket spyes :
Ipass y shades, & fixe vpon the true
Waters aboue ye Heauens : O sweet streams.
You doe prevent most sins, & for v re*t
Yon give vs tears to wash them : lett those beams.
Web then wind wU» you, still meet in my brest.
clxviii MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
And mend, as rising starres and rivers doe.
In you Redemption measures all my tyiue,
Spredding ye plaister e iuiil to ye cryme.
You taught ye book of life my name, that so
Whatever future sinns should mee mis-call,
Yor first acquaintance might discredit! all."
" Wind " is a favourite word with Herbert and
Vaughan for the movements of the stars.
13. Holy Baptisme. Line 11, " Though y'. . . :"
1. 13, " but keep her first " 22. Love. This
in the MS. comes after 13. Line 4, I adopt " in "
for "on." Line 5, "does" for "doth." Follow-
ing this is the first of the six new English Sacred
Poems of the MS. not before printed. See it under
the heading of " Lilies of the Temple." 36. Church
Musick. Then follows the new poem. The MS.
gives a new (third) stanza, as follows, in Church
Musick after the printed second :
" O what a state is this wch never knew
Sicklies, or shame, or sinn, or sorrow :
Where all my debts are payd, none can accrue
Wch knoweth not what means too morrow."
23. The Temper. This succeeds preceding, and is
entitled " The Christian Temper," and so also 24.
Line 5, " a hundred heavens." Line 25, " Whether
I Angell it on ... ." 19. Prayer. This follows
the second part of The Christian Temper. Line 5,
" fort :" L 7, " Transposer of ye world, wonder's
resort." The first part of 20. Holy Communion is
not in the MS. The second, which is headec
Prayer, follows 19. Prayer. The last stanzs
reads :
" Bnt wee are strangers grown, O Lord,
Lett Prayer help our Losses :
Since thon hast taught vs by thy word
That wee may gaine by crosses."
37. Church Lock and Key. In the Williams MS. i I
is headed " Prayer," and follows 20, also heade<i
Mi:.M( (RIAL-INTRODUCTION.
" Prayer." A new second stanza is found in the
MS. as follows :
" If either Innocence or fervencie
did play their part,
Annies of blessings would contend and rye,
Web of them soonest should attaint- my hart.
Vet ....
mending it . . ."
and thus closes .-
" O make mee wholy pniltles, or at least
Gniltles so fair,
That Tele and pnrenes circling my request,
May guard it safe beyond ye Highest starr."
26. Employment. This succeeds the preceding.
Lines 23, 24:
" Lord, that I may the Sunn's perfection gaine.
Give mee his speed."
28. Whitsunday. This follows 26. It commences :
" Come, blessed Done, charm'd wth my song,
Display thy golden wings in mee :
Hatching ....
fill I . ..."
Line 8, " Wlh livery-graces furnishing thy men."
The following new stanzas take the place of the
printed text's three closing ones :
" Bnt wee are falne from Heaven to Earth,
And if wee can stay there, its well.
He y( first fell from his great birth
Wlh out thy help, leads vs his way to Hell.
" Lord, once more shake ye Heaven & Earth,
Least want of Graves seeme thy thrift :
For sinn wonld faine remoae ye dearth.
And lay it on thy husbandry, for shift.
" Show yt thy brests can not be dry,
Bnt yt from them ioyes pnrle for ever.
Melt into blessings all the Sky,
So wee may cease to sncke, to praise thee, never."
27. The Holy Scriptures. This follows preceding.
Line 4, " to suple outward paine." Line 11,
" enough " for " too much." Line 24, " And
more then fancy" for " And comments on thee.''
m
cl.VX MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
Line 28, " can spell eternall bliss." The second
new poem (" Love ") follows 27. " Lilies of the
Temple." 33. Sinne. This succeeds the second
new poem. Line 1, " a Sinn." 40. Trinitie Sun-
day follows 33. Line 1 is originally " made me
Living mudd:" Herbert writes " rais'd me from
the mudd." There comes next the third new
poem (" Trinity Sunday "). See it as above.
17. Kepentance. This succeeds the third new
poem. Line 3, " momentary." Lines 9, 10 :
" Looking on this side, and beyond us all,
Wee are bom old."
Lines 28-30:
" Melt and consume
To a salt rhenme.
Fretting to death our other parts."
So originally : Herbert erases, and writes " to
smoke and fume." 30. Praise. This succeeds 17.
Line 5, " make me an Angell, I :" 1. 7, " Or if I
steale vp to :" stanza second is fourth in MS. In
st. iii. 1. 15, Herbert corrects " a," miswritten be-
fore "soule" instead of before "brave," and 11. 15, j
16 read :
" for to a poore
It may doe more."
The last stanza quaintly ends thus in the MS. :
" for if a Spider may
Spin all ye day :
Not flyes, but I, shall be his prey.
Who doe no more."
14 Nature. This follows 30. Line 9 origin alljj
" bee all :" Herbert erases, and writes as in priiitec]
text. 29. Grace. This succeeds 30. Line 5, "if
the Snnne still . . . : " 1. 6, " Thy great house j
would a . ..." Stanza iv. not in MS. Line
originally " 0 lett thy : " Herbert erases,
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. clxxi
writes as ' in printed text A new (cancelled)
stanza (fifth) is as follows :
" What if I say thon seek'st delayes,
Wilt i In in nut then my fault reprove?
Prevent my Sinn, to thine owne praise,
Drop from above."'
32. Mattens succeeds 29. Line 14, " 0 richly "
originally : Herbert erases, and writes " and."
There comes next the fourth new poem (" Even-
song")— which see as above. 54 Christmas-
day follows this. Line 1, " riding on a day : "
11. 13, 14 read :
" Furnish my sonle to thee, yt being drest.
Of better lodging thou mayest be possest."
35. Church Monuments follows the fourth new
poem, and 44. Frailtie follows 35. Lines 6-8 :
" Misuse them all the day.
And ever as I walk, my foot doth tredd
Vpon their head."
Line 16, "Troubling:" Herbert erases, and
writes as in printed text. 41. Content follows
1 44. Line 9, " flint " for " flints " — adopted. 42.
The Quidditie is next, and headed " Poetry."
Line 3, "Nor" for "no:" 1. 8, "my" for "a."
i 16. Affliction follows 42. Line 6, I have adopted
the us. as a better rhyme for " gracious benefits."
Lines 7, 8, " rich" for "fine," and 1. 9, "bewitch"
for "entwine:" and 1. 10, "Into thy familie :"
| L 15, 16 :
" I was preserved
Before that I could feure."
jines 29, 30 :
" I did not know
That I did live but by a pang of woe."
jine 36, " thorough." Line 65, " King " for
*l God." 43. Humilitie comes next : then 48.
clxxii MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
Sunday. In the former there are no variants ;
in the latter the following stanza (1st) reads :
" O day so calme, so bright :
The Conch of Tyme, ye balme of teures,
Th" indorsement of supreme delight.
The pai'ter of ray wrangling feares.
Setting in order what they tumble :
The Week were dark, but yt thy light
Teaches it not to stumble."
Lines 23 and 25 " doth stand .... on either
hand." Then 1L 26-28 :
" They are ye rowes of fruitful trees
Parted wth alleys or wth grass
In God's rich Paradise."
Lines 31, 32 :
" Make bracelets for yf spouse and wife
Of the Imortoll onely King."
In 1. 35 " and " is originally miswritten : Herbert
erases, and writes " then." 25. Jordan follows 48,
and 53. Deuiall thereafter. In the latter, 1. 13,
" hart and "knees:" 1. 16, "that thou" (adopted)
instead of " thou that :" 1. 29, " hart" erased by
Herbert, and " soule" written above it, instead of
usual "minde" (adopted). 55. Ungratefuluesse
follows 53. Line 7, " hadst .... rich:" 1. 9, " hast
layd open." 52. Employment succeeds 55 — the
heading " Imploimeiit" being written by Herbeijb|
himself. Line 14, "sate" for "sat" (adopted).!
For the fifth stanza the MS. reads :
" O, that I had the wing and thigh
Of laden Bees :
Then would I mount vp instantly,
And by degrees
On men dropp blessings as I fly."
A Wreath follows 52 — no variants. 51. To
Angels and Saints succeeds. Line 16,
for "our" (adopted): 1. 20, "your" for ":
1. 22, " great : " L 25, Herbert erases " garlanc
and writes "posy." 62. The Pearl follows 5ll
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. clxxiii
Line 3, " purchased : " 1. 4, the superfluous " and "
of 1632-3 not in MS. (adopted): L 22, Herbert
erases " gustos," and writes " lullings : " 1. 25,
Herbert erases " twenty," and writes " many : "
11. 26-29:
"Where both their baskets are wih all their store.
The smacke of dainties and their exaltation :
What both ye stops and pegs of pleasure bee.
The io> es of Company or Contemplation."
Lines 26-28 are marked out in the MS. Line 3,
" seeled," which, as showing the sporting term, I
adopt in preference to " sealed." 63. Tentatiou
— Herbert's own heading — follows. I adopt
" Tentation " before 1632-3, " Affliction" for head-
ing. 57. The World succeeds 63. Line 10,
" Quickly reformed all w"1 menaces : " 1. 19, I
have adopted the reading of the MS. in preference
to 1632-3, " But Love and Grace took Glorie by
the hand." 58. Coloss. iii. 3 follows 57. 18. Faith
succeeds 58. Lines 15, 16 :
" wth no new srore
My Creditonr beleeu'd so too."
Line 19, " places : " 1. 24, " My nature on Him
w"' the danger:" L 31, "bow:" 1. 35, Herbert
erases "impart," and writes "Impute:" L 36,
"This shadows out what Christ has done." 60.
Lent follows 18. Line 3, I adopt "a child" of
MS. for " compos'd :" 1. 29, so too " our " for "the :"
1. 39, " most wages," which Herbert erases, and
writes " ly wages:" L 45, "all vice." 64. Man
succeeds 60. ^Line 2, "no man builds:" L 8,
t% no " of 1632-3 text is a misprint for " mo," as
revealed by the Williams MS. reading " more "
here. " Mo " was probably adopted by Herbert,
because there are other two " mores" in this and
the next line. I read " mo " accordingly. Line 26,
I have adopted the MS. instead of 1632-3, "The
clxxiv MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
earth doth rest, heau'n move, and fountains flow:"
1. 36, "descent" I adopt for "ascent :" 1. 41, " if
one have beauty : " 11. 53, 54 :
" That as ye world to vs is kind and free,
So we may bee to Thee."
65. Antiphon succeeds, and is headed " Ode."
Line 19, " Lord, thou dost deserve much more : "
L 21, " Wee have no store." 71. Affliction comes I
next. 15. Sinne follows. Lines 13, 14 :
" Yet all these fences wth one bosome sinn
Are blowne away, as if they nere had bin."
I
70. Charmes and Knots follows. Lines 3, 4 read I
thus:
" A poore man's rod if thon wilt hire.
Thy horse shal never fall or tire."
Line 8, " Doubles the night, & trips by day."
Line 10, " hart " for " head." Lines 11, 12 fol-
low the next couplet in MS. The following have
never before been printed — the closing couplet
being a variant of the usual closing one :
" Who turues a trencher, setteth free
A prisoner crosht wth gluttonie.
" Take one from ten, and what remains ?
Ten, if a Sermon goe for gains."
(C£ 11. 15, 16.)
" The world thinks all things bigg and tall ;
Grace turnes ye Optick, then they fall.
" A falling starr has lost his place ;
The Courtier getts it that has grace,.
" In small draughts heanen does shine and dwell ;
Who dives on further, may find Hell."
66. Uukindnesse comes next. 72. Mortification
succeeds. Line 1, " does." 74. Miserie comes
next. It is headed in MS. " The Publican." Line
28, 1 adopt " wings " for " wing :" 11. 44-48 :
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. clxxv
" wih all his mind and might
For this he wondrous well doth know
They will be kind, and all his pains requite :
Making him free
Of that good companie."
Line 51, " Thou lyest warme :" 1L 65, 66 :
"Ah, wretched man.
Who may thy follies span ?"
Line 75, I adopt " a " for " the ;" albeit " the "
denotes " the " level at which a sight of bliss
may be obtained. 76. Prayer comes next. Line 2,
" Art thou, my blessed King :" 1. 10, " silly " for
" measur'd." 77. Obedience succeeds. Line 15,
" shutt out " (adopted) for " exclude ; " notwith-
standing that he is speaking of the excluding
effect of a document, in regard to which exclusion
from participation we do not perhaps use the
phrase " shut out." " Shut out " seems more
poetical, less technical. 75. Jordan comes next,
but is headed " Invention." Line 1, I adopt
" verse" for " lines" — as a collective noun. Line 6,
" Praising : " L 14, " So I bespoke me much in-
sinuation : " L 16, " Whisper, how wide is all this
preparation P " Line 18, " Copy out, there needs
no alteration." 154. The Elixir comes next. It
is headed " Perfection," and Herbert, without
erasing it, adds "The Elixir" — which I adopt;
1632-3 spells " Elixer." Lines 1-4 thus read:
" Lord, teach mee to referr
All things I doe to thee.
That I not onely may not erre.
But allso pleasing bee."
Linns 5-8 not in MS. There is this in its stead —
marked out :
" He that does ought for thee,
Marketh y deed for thine :
And when the devel >hukes ye tree,
Thou saist, this fruit is mine."
It and 16: 1. 14. originally "low," but
dxxvi MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
Herbert erases, and writes " meane :" 1. 16, ori-
ginally " to heaueu grow," and Herbert writes
" grow bright and cleaiie." Line 19, originally
" a chamber," and Herbert erases, with " roome
as." Another four lines follow — marked out :
" But these are high perfections.
Happy are they that dare
Lett iu the light to all their actions.
And shew them as they are."
Herbert adds the closing stanza, " This is," &c.
There come next the fifth and sixth new poems
(" The Knell " and " Perseverance ") — which see
in " Lilies of the Temple." 156. Death succeeds.
Thereafter 157. Doom's Day. Line 21, I adopt
" bodies " for " bodie." 158. Judgment suc-
ceeds. 159. Heaven thereafter. Lastly comes
160. Love, with " Finis " at end. None of these
has various readings. After five blank leaves
comes " The Church Militant." There will be
found some most interesting variations and addi-
tions. "L'envoy" in the MS. closes The Church
Militant, and accordingly was intended to belong
to it, not as ending of the volume at large. The
various readings specially referred to in pp. 9,
63, 70, 72, 94, 101, 106, 112, 114, 118, 120, 121, li
131, are all included in the preceding.
IL BODLEIAN MS. VARIOUS READINGS.
These are very slight and unimportant A]
few have been noted in preceding, as being cor
firmed by the Williams MS. Bancroft had
dently read and punctuated the MS. with
care. He corrects occasional misspellings,
st. xv. L 3, " chawes " was written as in Willis
MS. : he changes to " jawes." In st. xvi. 1.
"but" is filled in, having been inadvertent!;!
MEMORIAL-IN PRODUCTION. clxxvii
dropped. In st. xliii. L 6, "y,," for " thee." In
st xlix 1. 2, " courteous," is spelled " curteous,"
and " o " is inserted. In st lit " thy " was mis-
written " thine," and is corrected. In 2. The
Sacrifice, 1L 130-132, it is "him," "his," and
" He." In 25. Jordan, 1. 14, " rime " was first mis-
written " time :" altered to "rime." In 27. The
Holy Scriptures, L 11, the spelling is "Lidger."
In 33. Sin, L 10, the spelling is " perspectiue : "
see Notes and Illustrations in the place. In 43.
Humility, 1. 3, the spelling is " foule," and 1. 16,
" in " for " on." In 48. Sunday, L 11, the spell-
ing is " worky." In 49. Avarice, L 4, the spelling
is "durty." In 55. Ungratefulness, L 23, for
" box " is " bone." In 60. Lent, 1. 37, " that " for
" the way." In 63. Affliction, 1. 12, " pink " for
"prick." In 86. Business, L 29, A' spare " for
" space." 109. Church-Rents or Schisms for
" and : " 1. 18, " vaded " for " faded." These are
all in any way noticeable in the Bodleian MS.
Finally : I envy not the man who can read
the story of George Herbert's Life, as told by
Izaak Walton and Barnabas Oley and ourselves,
and as interwoven with his Verse and Prose,
without thankfulness to the Great Giver for such
a Life and such Writings. The Church of Eng-
land has had many illustrious Sons, who hold a
permanent place in the Theological Literature of
Europe ; but I do not know that she has had a finer
intellect, a nobler spirit, a more lovable nature,
a truer "Maker" than the " Country Parson" of
Bemerton.1 " Two years and three mouths may
1 In the " Christian Remembrancer " we read : " The Poems seem
to have been written before the • Country Parson.' His preface to
the latter is dated 1632, the year of his death ; and its other name,
by which it was more usually known at first, ' A Priest to the Tem-
ple,' seems to indicate that it was conceived in its Author's mind a* a
clxxviii MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.
seem a disproportionate space of time for his
work in the ministry, after so long and so careful
preparation for it. But it is not for us to call
his death premature. To himself the old adapts
may safely be applied — ' his wings were grown ; '
and, as for his work, it was ended. ' Non diu
sed multum vixit.' His contemporaries com-
plained that ' he lost himself in that humble
way,' while devoting his energies to that obscure
little parish. But his influence in forming the
highest type of Christian character for laity as
well as clergy, has been extended, by his example
and writings, far beyond the narrow limits of
that little parish on Salisbury Plain, with its
' twenty cottages ' and ' less than a hundred and
twenty souls,' far beyond the age in which he
lived." l Our own generation has witnessed an
Augustus Hare, in his little sequestered parish
(also in Wilts), sustaining the Herbertian type
of Life.
Such, then, is what we wished to say and fur-
nish on the Life and Writings of George Her-
bert. Now that our Memorial-Introduction is
finished, and we go back on it, its inadequateuess
pains us ; yet there is this consolation, that per- .
haps our words may suggest Thought and allure
Readers ; and above all, it is our priceless privi-
lege to present FOE THE FIEST TIME fully and worth-
ily the Poems of one of the uncanonized Saints of
the Church Catholic. For Leighton, of " The
Bishop's Walk," I substitute the " Parson " of
companion volume to the already existing, though unpublished, col-
livtioii of poems entitled ' The Temple'" (p. 10.".). I sliced that
" the other name " wns given by Oley in order to relate it to " The
Temple," and that as not " The Temple *' but " The Church " wn<
Herbert's own title, so the " Country Parson " was probably his
own. Seeacc.illiit of t lie Williams MS.
' "Christian Iteineiulirancrr,'' as before, p. 11,">.
MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. chxix
Bemerton ; and as I turn and return on the Face,
as reproduced in integrity from that of 1674, I
find in its vivid portraiture our very own George
Herbert. I cannot more fitly close our Essay
than with it (slightly adapted) :
" Slow-pacing with a downcast eye,
Which yet, in rapt devotion high,
Sometimes its great dark orb would lift.
And pierced the veil, and caught the swift
Glance of an angel's wing,
That of the Lamb did sing ;
" And with the fine pale shadow, wrought
Upon his cheek by years of thought.
And Hues of weariness and pain.
And looks that long for home again ;
So went he to and fro,
With step infirm and slow.
" A frail slight form — no temple he
Grand for abode of Deity ;
Rather a bash inflamed with grace,
And trembling in a desert place,
Anil uiirnnsumed with fire,
Though burning high and higher.
" A frail slight form, and pale with care,
And paler from the raven hair
That folded from a forehead free,
Godlike of height and majesty —
A brow of thought supreme,
And mystic glorious dream." (pp. 14, 15.)
NOTE
I can only find room for a short quotation from
Sir John Beaumont, promised in note 1, p. 108.
" Here shines no golden roofe, no in'ry gtaire,
No King exalted in a stately chaire.
Girt with attendants, or by heralds styl'd,
Bnt straw and hay inwrap a speechlesse child ;
Yet Sahaes lords before this Babe rnfold
Their treasures, ofTring incense, myrrh and gold.
The cribbe becomes an altar ; therefore dies
No oxe nor sheepe, for in their fodder lies
The Prince of Peace, Who thankful! for his bed,
Destroyes those rites, in which their blood was shed.'
(Of the Epiphany, edition of Poems in Fnner Worthies' Library.)
ALEXANDER B. GROSART.
I. THE TEMPLE,
NOTE.
SUCCEEDING this are the two early title-pages
of " The Temple " .—
(a) The gift-copies [undated] : probably 1632.
( b) The first dated edition— 1633.
On these, and others, see the Preface and Memoir.
"The Printers to the Reader" Epistle, was written
by Nicholas Ferrar, as noticed in the Memoir. — G.
THE
TEMPLE.
SACRED POEMS
AND
PRIVATE EJA-
CULATIONS.
By Mr. GEORGE HERBERT,
Late Oratour of the Univerfitie.
PSAL. 29.
In bit Temple doth every
man f peak of bis honour.
CAMBRIDGE :
Printed by Thomas Buck
and Roger Daniel:
And are to be fold by Francis
Green, ftationer in
Cambridge.
THE
TEMPLE.
SACRED POEMS
AND
PRIVATE EJA-
CULATIONS.
By Mr. GEORGE HERBERT.
PSAL. 29.
In bit Temple doth every man
ffeak of bis honour.
CAMBRIDGE :
Printed by Thorn. Buck,
and Roger Daniel, printers
to the Univerfitie.
1633.
THE PRINTERS TO THE READER.
' HE dedication of this work having been
made by the Authour to the Divine
Majestie onely, how should we now
presume to interest any mortall man
in the patronage of it ! Much lesse think we it
meet to seek the recommendation of the Muses for
that which himself was confident to have been in-
spired by a diviner breath then flows from Helicon.
The world, therefore, shall receive it in that naked
simplicitie with which he left it, without any ad-
dition either of support or ornament more then is
included in itself. We leave it free and unfore-
etalled to every man's judgement, and to the benefit
that he shall finde by perusall. Onely, for tl e
clearing of some passages, we have thought it not
unfit to make the common Reader privie to some
few particularities of the condition and disposition
of the Person.
Being nobly born, and as eminently endued with
gifts of the minde, and having by Industrie and
happy education perfected them to that great
height of excellencie, whereof his fellowship of
Trinitie Colledge in Cambridge, and his Orator-
ship in the TJniversitie, together with that know-
ledge which the King's Court had taken of him,
(> THE PRINTERS TO THE READER.
could make relation farre above ordinarie. Quitting
both his deserts and all the opportunities that he
had for worldly preferment, he betook himself to
the Sanctuarie and Temple of God, choosing rather
to serve at God's altar then to seek the honour of
State-employments. As for those inward enforce-
ments to this course (for outward there was none),
which many of these ensuing verses bear witnesse
of, they detract not from the freedome, but adde
to the honour of this resolution in him. As God
had enabled him, so he accounted him meet not
onely to be called, but to be compelled to this
service : wherein his faithfull discharge was such
as may make him justly a companion to the primi-
tive saints, and a pattern or more for the Age he
lived in.
To testifie his independencie upon all others,
and to quicken his diligence in this kiiide, he used
in his ordinarie speech, when he made mention of
the blessed name of our Lord and Saviour Jesus
Christ, to adde " My Master."
Next God, he loved that which God himself hath
magnified above all things, that is, his Word : so
as he hath been heard to make solemne protesta-
tion, that he would not part with one leaf thereof
for the whole world, if it were offered him in ex-
change. f
His obedience and conformitie to the Church
and the discipline thereof was singularly re-
markable: though he abounded in private devo-
tions, yet went he every morning and evening
with his familie to the Church ; and by his ex-
ample, exhortations, and encouragements drew the
greater part of his parishioners to accompanie him
dayly in the public celebration of Divine Service.
As for worldly matters, his love and esteem to
them was so little, as no man can more ambitiously
THE PRINTERS TO THE READER. 7
seek then he did earnestly endeavour the resigna-
tion of an ecclesiastical dignitie, which he was
possessour of. But God permitted not the ac-
complishment of this desire, having ordained him
his instrument for re-edifying of the Church
belonging thereunto, that had layen ruinated
almost twenty years. The reparation whereof,
having been uneffectually attempted by publick
collections, was in the end by his own and some
few others' private free-will offerings successfully
effected. With the remembrance whereof, as of
an especial good work, when a friend went about
to comfort him on his death-bed, he made answer,
" It is a good work, if it be sprinkled with the
bloud of Christ : " otherwise then in this respect
he could finde nothing to glorie or comfort himself
with, neither in this noi; in any other thing.
And these are but a few of many that might
be said, which we have chosen to premise as a
glance to some parts of the ensuing book, and for
an example to the Reader.
We conclude all with his own motto, with which
he used to conclude all things that might seem to
tend any way to his own honour,
" Leste than the leatt of God's merdet."
I. f THE 'DEDICATION.
Lord, my first-fruits present themselves to Thee ;
Yet not mine neither ; for from Thee they came,
And must return. Accept of them and me,
And make us strive who shall sin? best Thy Name.
Turn their eyes hither who shall make a gain;
Theirs who shall hurt themselves or me refrain.1
II. THE CHUKCH PORCH.
PERIRRHANTEKIUM.'
[I. Invitation to youth to read. Il.-iv. Chastity. V.-IX. Tem-
perance. \. MI. Evil-speaking, xni. Lying. XIV. XVI. Indolence,
xvn. -xix. Education, xx. Constancy, xxi. Sincerity. XXH. xxiu.
Gluttony. xxiv.-XXX. Self-discipline, xxxi. xxxii. Dress. XXMII.
xxxiv. Gambling. XXXV.-XLII. Conversation. XLIII.-XLV. Be-
haviour to the great. XLVI. Friendship. XIVII.-XLTIII. Suretyship.
XLIX.-LIV. Social intercourse. LV.-LIX. Purpose of life. LX. ixi.
Foreign travel. LXII. Personal property. LXIII.-LXV. Almsgiving.
IXVI.-LXXV. Public worship. LXXVI. Self-examination. LXXVII.
Conclusion.3]
I.
HOU whose sweet youth and early
hopes inhance
Thy rate4 and price, and mark thee
for a treasure, [chance
Hearken unto a Verser,5 who may
1 In the Williams MS. this " Dedication " occupies a page by
itself : see the Memoir for its form in the Bodleian MS. : also for
Various Readings throughout " The Temple," which are important.
* i.e. an instrument used for sprinkling holy water. In pre-
Refurmation times, a stonp or bowl of holy water (so-called) was
placed at the entrance of churches to remind the worshipper to have
his heart " sprinkled from an evil conscience :" in order " to serve
the living God." (Heb. x. 22; ix. 14.) See III. Superliminure, and
relative note. The " handful of advice " (moral) in " The Church
1'i.rch " prepares for the deeper spiritual truths of " The Temple,"
or, as he himself wrote, " The Church," as the other (symbolically)
for entering the Church.
1 These headings mark out the successive topics of " The Church
•m.
rsifler and Versiflcator.
Porch " made by me as an analysis of the poem.
* i.e. valuation. * Earlier form of Versi:
10 THE TEMPLE.
Ryme thee to good, and make a bait1 of pleasure :
A verse may finde him who a sermon flies,
And turn delight into a sacrifice.2
n.
Beware of lust ; it doth pollute and foul
Whom God in Baptisme washt with His own
Bloud ;
It blots thy lesson 3 written in thy soul ;
The holy lines cannot be understood :
How dare those eyes upon a Bible look,
Much lesse towards God, whose lust is all their
book !
in.
Wholly abstain, or wed. Thy bounteous Lord
Allows thee choise of paths ; take no by-wayes,
But gladly welcome what He doth afford,
Not grudging that thy lust hath bounds and staies.
Continence hath his joy ; weigh both, and so,
If rottennesse4 have more, let Heaven go.
IV.
If God had laid all common,6 certainly
Man would have been th' incloser ; but since no
:iOW
1 Cicero de Senect. xiii. says "divine Plato" escam malt
appellnt voluptatem : here Herbert would use " pleasure " to allure
to " good." — LOWE. i.e. the "ryme" and the " pleasure" in reaclinj
it may be as a " bait " with a hook (in a good sense) to draw to iti
teaching.
* A paradox, because sacrifice requires pain and self-denial, which
are opposite to delight. Youth like poetry, dislike sermons ; our
author offers them, through the medium of verse what is pleasant in
the former, useful in the latter. — LOWE. See the Memoir, as before,
for the deeper meanings here.
3 One sense of "lesson" is that written or printed which has to
be learnt, and so in this place. The writing is of The Spirit of God.
In the best there is a conflict between " flesh and spirit " and The
Spirit. Lust indulged "blots" out all. Dr. Lowe aptly cites " Ham-
let " (i. 5) :—
" Though to a radiant angel linked,
Will sat* itself in a celestial bed.
And prey on garbage."
See St. James' Epist. i. 15. Line 3 refers to the conscience, line 4
to the Bible.
4 Proverbs xii. 4.
5 The reference is not to the law of trespass (so Lowe), but i
THE CHURCH PORCH. 11
God hath impal'd1 ns, on the contrarye
Man breaks the fence, and every ground will
plough.
0, what were man, might he himself misplace !
Sure, to be crosse,2 he would shift feet and face.3
v.
Drink not the third glasse,4 — which thou canst
not tame
When once it is within thee, but before
Mayst rule it as thou list,* — and poure the shame,
Which it would poure on thee, upon the floore.
Tt is most just to throw that on the ground
Which would throw me there if I keep the
round.6
VI.
He that is drunken, may his mother kill
Bigge with his sister :7 he hath lost the reins,
appropriation : see "plough" in line 4. The enclosure of common
lands was greatly complained of then and in preceding reigns, and
gave rise to riots and insurrections. Hence Herbert's simile ; but
to make it exact, lines 3-4 must be understood as uow explained —
appropriation of lauds to which others had right, whether in com-
monatie or private.
1 i.e. enclosed, fenced as within pales or palings.
* i.e. contrary. Cf. st. Ixvi. 1. 5.
* i.e. place the feet where the head ("face") is, and the head
where the " feet " are. This reminds that the old-fashioned argu-
ment from design is still quick : Suppose the human body were to be
maile de nova, what change of " place " of any single member could
be suggested as an advantage ? None.
4 The allusion U to one or other of various proverbial sayings,
e.g. the first glass is — pleasure ; a second — indulgence ; the third —
degradation : and 1, a man ; 2, an ass ; 3, a devil, and the like.
* i.e. choose, "may'st choose."
* i.e. keep partaking and passing the bottle " round." So in
"Eastward Ho" (1605): "... to the health of Master Bramble.
<J ••ilcer. I pledge it, sir; hath it gone round, raptaine? Sec.
It has, sweet Franck; and the round closes with thee." (iii. 2.)
(The Puritans (as Prynoe) abound in denunciations of the " round "
of drinking healths.
* Some such brutalities are related of Cambyses and of Nero.
Refr rem-e muy be made to the story of a youth whom Satan tempted
to kill his mother. The horrible proposal was indignantly rejected.
Thru Satan tempted him to kill his sister, which was likewise
tparned. Next he tempted him with drunkenness, and the youth
. yielded at to what he thought a venial offence, and he came home
12 THE TEMPLE.
Is outlawd by himselfe ; all kinds of ill l
Did with his liquor slide into his veins.
The drunkard forfets Man, and doth devest2
All worldly right,3 save what he hath by Beast.4
VII.
Shall I, to please another's wine-sprung8 minde,
Lose all mine own ? God hath giv'n me a measure
Short of his canne6 and bodie ; must I finde
A pain in that wherein he findes a pleasure ?
Stay at the third glasse ; 7 if thou lose 8 thy hold,
Then thou art modest,9 and the wine grows bold.
VIII.
If reason move not gallants, quit the room —
All in a shipwrack shift their severall way ;
Let not a common ruine thee intombe :
Be not a beast in courtesie, but stay, —
Stay at the third cup, or forgo the place :
Wine above all things doth God's stamp deface
mad-drunk, and in his fury killed his mother, then with child of
daughter.— RYLEY. Cf. Brooks' "Precious Remedies" (Works, I
me : vol. i. p. 20), where other references are given, and the stnu»|
association of the legend with Judas.
» oo nnaicespeare : •• \J, i nave lost my reputation, i nave los
the immortal part of myself. O, what remains is bestial." ("Othello
ii. 3.)
5 sprang : t. e. out of its place — a mind started aside or becom
warped by wine.
• " that other's."
7 " These honest men did at Brentford dine
Having drunk every man his pint of wine."
When wine was served in " Cannes" it might well be drunk fro
half-pint " glasses," of which two were enough.
8 A variant spelling of " loose." See the Memoir, as before, on th
and like conceits.
• Moral excellence requires due consideration of time, place, ar
person. Virtue out of season is not virtue. " Modesty," admirable
one time, maybe cowardice at another. The timidity which doesn
resist, and is here called " modesty," should give place to a firm bol
ness before " the devil drunkenness." — LOWE.
THE CHURCH PORCH. 13
IX.
Yet, if thou sinne in wine or wantonnesse,
Boast not thereof, nor make thy shame thy glorie.1
Frailtie gets pardon by submissivenesse ; 2
But he that boasts shuts that out of his stone ;
He makes flat warre with God, and doth defie
With his poore clod of earth the spacious skie.
x.
Take not His Name, Who made thy month, in vain ;
It gets thee nothing, and hath no excuse.
Lust and wine plead a pleasure, avarice gain ;
But the cheap3 swearer through his open since
Lets his soul runne for nought, as little fearing :*
Were I an Epicure,8 I could bate6 swearing.
XI.
When thou dost tell another's jest, therein
Omit the oathes, which true wit cannot need ;
Pick out of tales the mirth, but not the sinne ;
He pares his apple that will cleanly feed.
1 Philippians iii. 19.
* e. g. the Prodigal in the Parable, who was welcomed home when
he returned in penitent "submissivenesse." Pardon to a boaster of
his sin is impossible.
* Cf. st. zii. line 2. The context shows that as a cheap seller, so
the cheap swearer is he who readily parts with his oaths, as things of
little or no value, and not only gets no vultu- for his ware, bnt parts
| ' also *ith his soul for nought, or almost nothing, and on the must
I trifling temptation. The primary idea of bargaining is involved
throughout.
4 fearing [of God] : i.e. reverencing.
* :'. e. one pursuing pleasure supremely, as in " Macbeth" : "Then
fly false thanes, and mingle with the English epicures" (v. 3). Hut
' besides this Herbert intended no doubt to express the vulgar concep-
• tion of the ancient Epicureans, whom he thus (mis)represents as having
no belief in providential judgments and as living only for sensual enjoy-
ment. Suppose it had been so (as it is not, for Epicurus and hi.*
school were no such mere pleasure-seekers or sensualists), then the
thought would have been to the point — " If I had no more belief in
providential judgments than an Epicurean, I could bate swearing."
* bate : i. e. abate, subtract, not swear. " Bate me an ace quoth
Boll on " is the well-known proverb used by Elizabeth.
14 THE TEMPLE.
Play not away1 the vertue of that Name
Which is the best stake when griefs make thee
tame.
XII.
The cheapest2 sinnes most dearly punisht are,
Because to shun them also is so cheap ;
For we have wit to mark them, and to spare.3
0, crumble not away thy soul's fair heap !
If thou wilt die, the gates of hell are broad ;
Pride and full sinnes have made the way a road.
xin.
Lie not ; but let thy heart be true to God,
Thy mouth to it, thy actions to them both :
Cowards tell lies,4 and those that fear the rod ;
The stormie-working soul5 spits lies and froth.6
Dare to be true : nothing can need a ly ;
A fault, which needs it most, grows two thereby.
1 The poet would say that the virtue or power of God's Name is a
trump card, a stake not to be played away, but to be held in the hand,
to win against all the sorrows and temptations of life. It is in the
hour of grief that God's name rightly used in prayer will turn all to
tritanp/u, or trumps, for the two words are the same. — LOWE. A
very pretty thought, but it is not Herbert's, for the simple reason that
a stake is the value wagered and is not a trump or any other curd, to
be retained in the hand. If the poet had meant a " card " he would
have said so.
* Cf. on st. x. 1. 4. Opposed to " dearly," meaning " at the highest
rate," as we say " to pay dearly for an error : " compare such expres- I
sions as" my dearest foe ;" "my father hated his father dearly ;" and
"shall it not grieve theedearer than thy death ?"(" Julius Caesar, ''iii. 1.)
Benjamin Franklin has made the thing famous by his apologue of the
Whistle. We have here the secondary meaning of "easy derived
from the thought of cheap or easy purchase.
' i.e. wit enough and to spare. — LOWE.
4 " The great violation of the point of honour from man to man is
giving the Tie The reason perhaps may be because no other vice
implies a want of courage so much as telling a lie ; and therefore
telling ii man he lies is touching him in the most sensible part of
honour and indirectly calling him a coward." — The Spectator, No. 99.
6 Two classes, says Herbert, tell lies : cowards, and those who in
their passion would gain their ends by any means. The former he .
exhorts to be brave — " dare to be true j " to the latter he says, " nothing
can need a lie."
« Cf. Isaiah Mi. 20.
THE CHURCH PORCH. 15
XIV.
Flie idlenesse ;* which yet thou canst not flie
By dressing, mistressing, and complement.2
If those take up thy day, the sunne will crie
Against thee ; for his light was onely lent.3
God gave thy soul brave4 wings ; put not those
feathers
Into a bed, to sleep out all ill weathers.
xv.
Art thou a magistrate ? then be severe :5
If studious,6 copie fair what Time hath blnrr'd,
Kedeem truth from his jawes : if souldier,
3hase7 brave employment with a naked sword
Throughout the world. Fool not ; for all may
have,
If they dare try, a glorious life, or grave.
XVI.
) England, full of sinne, but most of sloth !
Spit out thy flegme, and fill thy breast with glorie.
1 Occupation is not work ; employment in vanity is only idleness.
—LOWE.
* See the Memoir as before, on the quotation here from Dean Donne.
' Mistressing " is dawdling in day-long attendance and obseqnence
n a lady love ; bnt it most be remembered that a young nnmarrieJ
yet marriageable lady was called "Mistris" or " Mistress," not Miss
as now, and that " mistressiug" here does not carry its deteriorated
sense.
1 i. e. not given to us to do as we like with onr own. — LOWE.
4 i. e. high aspirations and instincts.
* So Shakespeare's Justice is "with ey« severe " (" As Yon Like
t." ii. 7) ; but severus not s»?vns.— LOWE. As " severe " is now re-
tricted to stern, apt to punish, these parallel passages may interest :
" Truth, wisdom, sanctitnde, severe and pure."
MILTON, Jhradtie Lost, iv. 293.
" This grave rebuke,
Severe in youthful beauty, added grace." (Ib. 11. 844-.r>).
" From grave to gay, from lively to severe."
POPE Essay on Man, 11. 879-80.
* The student's end is Truth.— LOWE.
T i. f. pursue. England had had a long peace through the reign of
ames I., and idleness is the soldier's temptation in such times.
16 THE TEMPLE.
Thy gentry bleats, as if thy native cloth1
Transfus'd a sheepishnesse into thy storie ;
Not that they all are so,2 but that the most
Are gone to grasse,3 and in the pasture lost.
XVII.
This losse springs chiefly from our education :
Some till their ground, but let weeds choke their
sonne ;
Some mark a partridge,4 never their childe's
fashion ;
Some ship them over,5 and the thing is done.
Studie this art,6 make it thy great designe ;
And if God's image move thee not, let thine.7
XVIII.
Some great estates provide, but do not breed8
A mast'ring minde ; so both are lost thereby.
Or els they breed them9 tender, make them need
All that they leave ; this is flat povertie :
' English wool and " native cloth " have ever been famous. I
1613 one John May writing of woollen clothing, says of F.nglanc
'• No kingdom can speak so happily of this benefit as this Kculrae,
The quantitie so much as serveth all nations in the world, and th
qualltle go good as it is chiefly desired of all."- LOWE.
3 Sir Henry Wotton, Lord Falkland, John Hampden, are ei'
amples. — LOWE.
3 t. e. they are slothful, wanting in work and energy, as is a ho
turned out from work to grass. Cf. st. xviii.
4 i.e. a technical term in sporting " game."
s i.e. send them abroad to see the world, as Cowper sareastiral
sings in his "Progress of Error " (11. 415-16). It is just possible t'
Herbert had also in his mind the " shipping " to the new colonie
Virginia, the Bermudas, and others.
8 i.e. of education.
7 If thy child does not rxci, c thy reverent care, as being i
in the image of God, regard it at least as being thine ima
parent's. — LOWE.
8 i. e. bring up, train ; as we say well-bred, ill-bred, of manners, j
LOWE.
* The sense, not the grammar, inust explain this : them refer*
children implied; and so it does in the next clause, while they in t
following line refers to parents. — LOWE.
THE CHURCH PORCH. 17
For he that needs1 five thousand pound to live
IB full as poore as he that needs but five.
XIX.
The way to make thy sonne rich is to fill
His minde with rest,2 before his trunk3 with riches :
For wealth without contentment climbes a hill,
To feel those tempests which fly over ditches ; 4
But if thy sonne can make ten pound his measure,
Then all thou addest may be call'd his treasure.
xx.
When thou dost purpose ought within thy power,
03e sure to doe it, though it be but small ;
Constancie knits the bones, and makes us sowre5
When wanton pleasures becken, us to thrall.6
Who breaks his own bond forfeiteth himself ;
Aoid, though hee bee a ship, is his owne shelf.7
XXI.
Doe all things like a man, not sneakingly ;
Think the king sees thee8 still ; for his King9 does.
1 Sol has bat needs. The man whose necessities require JE5.000 per
annum U as poor as he whose necessities are met by £5 per
annum. Cf. last line of St. xix.— LOWE. See tinder St. xxx. 1. 3.
1 No doubt Herbert had in recollection St. Angnstine's deep saying,
"O Lord, Thou hast formed us for Thyself, and our souls are restless
until they rest in Thee." (" Conf.") Cf. St. Matthew xi. 28.
1 i.e. chest or portmanteau.
4 Cf. Horace, Od. ii. x. 9. So Shakespeare :
" And often, to our comfort, shall we find
The sharded beetle in a safer hold
Than is the fnll-wing'd eagle." — Cymbeline, iii. 3.
* See longer Notes and Illustrations (a), at close of the volume, on
the reading " sowre," adopted from the Williams MS.
* t. e. bond or slave.
* See longer Notes and Illustrations (6), as before, on " shelf."
' i.e. any superior. — LOWE. Milton more grandly :
" All is, if I have grace to use it so,
As ever in my great Task-master's eye." — Sonnet vii.
•i.e. King of kings.
C
18 THE TEMPLE.
Simpring1 is but a lay-hypocrisie ;
Give it a corner, and the clue undoes.2
Who fears to do ill sets himself to task ;3
Who fears to do well sure should wear a mask.4
XXII.
Look to thy mouth ; 5 diseases enter there.6
Thou hast two sconses :7 if thy stomack call,
Carve, or discourse ; do not a famine fear :
Who carves is kind to two ;8 who talks, to all.
Look on meat, think it dirt, then eat a bit,
And say withall, — " Earth to earth I commit." 9
XXIII.
Slight those who say, amidst their sickly healths,10
" Thou liv'st by rule." What doth not so but man ?
Houses are built by rule, and Common-Wealths.
Entice the trusty sunne, if that you can,
From his ecliptick line ; becken the skie !
Who lives by rule, then, keeps good companie.11
1 i.e. smiling, especially in a false or foolish way. Smiles of pretended
friendship are in the layman, the hypocrisy that pretended holiness
is in the clerk. — LOWE.
2 See longer Notes and Illustrations (c), as before, on "clue un-
does."
* t. e. he searches into his motives, and judges his actions. — Lows.
* If a man is afraid to do good, better than not to do it let him
wear a mask and hide himself, as Nicodemus came by night ; or even
as Naaman received an implied sanction for worshipping in the house
of Uimmi in. The higher rule of the Gospel is, " Let your light so '
shine before men," &c. (St. Matthew v. 16). — LOWE.
6 Proverbs xxiii. 2.
' i. e. by bad air, or by excessive or unwholesome food. — LOWB.
Herbert places in the " Jaenla Prudentnm" these : " Whatsoever was
the father of a disease, an ill diet was the mother :" " By suppers
more have been killed than Galen ever cured."
7 See longer Notes and Illustrations (</)> as before, on "sconses."
8 The host and the guest, for whom otherwise the host would
carve ; but see note on " sconses."
9 We were made of the dnst of the earth, and the first man was
called Adam, i.e. red earth, and our food is all from the earth : "as
for the earth out of it cometh bread." Besides, "unto dnst shall
we return : " and the thought of the end, as suggested by these
words from the Burial Office, may restrain appetite. — LOWE.
10 f. e. healths which they drink to the injury of health.
11 He is here giving examples of living by rule— the commonwealth,
the sun, the host of heaven. If you then live by rule, you keep good
tompany, are in fellowship with the sun, stars, &c.
THE CHURCH PORCH. 19
XXIV.
Who keeps no guard upon himself is slack,
And rots to nothing at the next great thaw.1
Man is a shop of rules, a well-truss'd pack,
Whose every parcell uuder-writes a law.2
Loose3 not thyself, nor give thy humours
way ;
God gave them to thee under lock and key.
XXV.
By all means use sometimes to be alone; 4
Salute thyself ; see what thy soul doth wear ; 6
Dare to look in thy chest, for 'tis thine own,
And tumble up and down what thou find'st there :
1 As soon as the tight hold of circumstances, which like frost keep
a man from falling away, is relaxed, he drops to pieces under the
influence of temptation, as ice in a thaw. We call a man who acts
under no self- restraint lUttolute ; that is, one who has melted away.
— LOWE. But query—" tight hold " of reason, not circumstances?
Dr. Lowe says, as " ice in a thaw," which makes man and his circum-
stances one. Herbert's idea is, he becomes slack and rots, as extra-
neons things preserved in ice rot when it thaws. The thought, like
that in 107. The Size, 1. 40, may have been suggested by the great
frost of 1614.
2 Man is made np of a series of qualities, a variety of faculties,
each to be nsed for its own end, under it.- own rule ; as in a shop
each parcel of goods might have the name of its contents written
under a rule directing their use. Underwriting is when one name
is written under another, and so is applied to the form of insuring
ships at Lloyd's In this passage it is used only in its precise etymo-
logical sense. — LOWE. Dr. Lowe errs (as too frequently) by going
back on a thought already past, that of the shop. Herbert is now
thinking of qualities, living parcels. Underwriting in insurance is not
the writing of one name under another, but subscribing to a bond.
The words " rules " and " law," and the mode of expression,
sufficiently show that " nnder-write " is used by Herbert in a legal-
literal sense— t. f. subscribes to a law, which law each parcel or
quality of man is thus bound not to vary from or exceed.
1 I have adopted this instead of the usual printed text " lose " from
the Williams MS. which is also confirmed by the Bodleian. There
is, perhaps, here a reference to the " loose," i. e. to loosing of the
arrow, the word being a technical term. See Note on s. vii. 1. 5.
* See longer Notes and Illu-strations (e), as before
s The graces and the virtues are the garments of the soul, the
wedding-garments of the parable. As folks take so much care of
their wardrobes, so let them look as carefully to the repair* and good
order of their spiritual attire. — LOWE. But in our Lord's parable is
the " wedding-garment "— not plural (St. Matthew xxii. 11), and the
meaning is infinitely deeper than the" graces and virtues. '
20 THE TEMPLE.
Who cannot rest till he good-fellows1 finde,
He breaks up house, turns out of doores his
minde.
XXVI.
Ee thrifty, but not covetous : therefore give
Thy need, thine honour,2 and thy friend his due.
Never was scraper 3 brave man. Get to live ;
Then live, and use it ; 4 els it is not true
That thou hast gotten. Surely use alone/
Makes money not a contemptible stone.
XXVII.
Never exceed thy income. Youth may make
Ev'n with the yeare ; but Age, if it will hit,
Shoots a bow short, and lessens still his stake,
As the day lessens, and his life with it.
Thy children, kindred, friends upon thee call,
Before thy journey5 fairly part with all.
XXVIII.
Yet6 in thy thriving still misdoubt some evil,
Lest gaining gain on thee, and make thee dimme
To all things els. Wealth is the conjurer's devil,
1 i. e. boon companions.
1 " Spend on thine honour" ..." as did Araunah and David *
also : 2 Samuel xxiv. 23, 24. Lord Bin-on says, " Riches are for
spending : spending for honour and good actions." (Essays, xxviii.)
— LOWE (shortened). Herbert was the friend and associate of Bacon.
See the Memoir, as before.
3 t. e. gatherer of money — still more and more, at all hazards, and
with all meannesses.
4 t. e. turn it to account by good deeds — not hide it in a napkin, j
nor necessarily spend it at will. — LOWE.
5 t. e. the last journey, "from whence no traveller returns "("Ham
let," iii. 1) : " before they go hence, and be no more seen " (Job xvi. :
22 : Psalm xxxix. 13).— LOWE.
8 There being nothing in the preceding stanza about not thriving, I
" yet " is not used disjunctively, but as — continually, ever, still. I
The same Reuse of continuance is implied in " as yet " and in " whilel
they were yet heathen," and the like; in fact, various of the usagesL
of " still " branch out so parallel with those of " yt't " that cue may j
frequently be used to illustrate or gloss the other.
THE CHURCH PORCH. 21
Whom when he thinks he hath, the devil hath
him.1
Gold them mayst safely touch ; but if it stick
Unto thy hands, it woundeth to the quick.2
xxrx.
What skills it,3 if a bag of stones or gold
About thy neck do drown fchee ? Raise thy head ;
Take starres for money,4 — star res not to be told
By any art, yet to be purchased,
None is so wastfull as the scraping dame ;
She loseth three for one, — her soul, rest, fame.
XXX.
By no means rnnne in debt : take thine own
measure: 6
Who cannot live on twentie pound a yeare,
Cannot on fourtie ;6 he's a maa of pleasure,
A kinde of thing that's for its«;lf too deere.
1 There have been many legends, beside those of Simon Magns
and Dr. Faustus, of conjurors pretendiug to supernatural powers
being carried away by the evil spirit they conjured with. Something
such was the fate of the sons of Sceva (Acts xix. 14). — LOWE.
* i. e. sensitive or living parts.
3 i. e. what difference does it make ? To skill was originally to dis-
"ngnish, and so the skill of discrimination came to be the word for
ccellent practice in any art. The i rtist or the artificer who can best
disrrimiuate between perfection and imperfection is likely to be the
most skilful in his art or craft. — L< WE. " Distinguish" is used so
loosely in modern English, that i might be well to read above
" originally to [separate] distingtish [between]." Suggested by
St. Luke xvii. 1, 2.
* i.e. count the stars, not your col is. The righteous are to " shine
as stars," and though they may be more numerous than we can count
or " tell," yet can we purchase the ji, in obedience to the Gospel, by
a right use of earthly goods. (Bt. Luke xii. 33). — LOWE. Not
, " count .... coins," but " take," " obtain " the coin or treasures
of heaven in exchange for your gocds, instead of obtaining and ocvu-
; mnlating gold." See Note on 16. Affliction, II. 11, 12.
* i. e. determine at what rate you will live within your income. —
LOWE. Doubtless, though the serse is not the same, and though it
is not in the " Jacula Prndentnm," Herbert had in remembrance the
proverb, " Cut your coat according to your cloth." In sparing or
stinting himself, for the sake of >stentutious finery and changing
fashions (faults of that day in appan-1 and of pur own), he probably
thought of the man's stinting his nobler self in his " curionsness of
•pending."
* See longer Notes and Illustrations (/), for a very full notice of
the " fourtie."
22 THE TEMPLE.
The curious unthrift1 makes his cloth too wide,2
And spares himself, but would his taylor
chide.
XXXI.
Spend not on hopes.3 They that by pleading-
clothes
Do fortunes seek when worth and service fail,
Would have their tale beleeved for their oathes,
And are like empty vessels under sail.
Old courtiers know this : therefore set out so,
As all the day thou mayst hold out to go.
XXXII.
In clothes, cheap handsomenesse doth bear the
bell;4
Wisedome's a triamer thing then shop e'er gave.
Say not then, " Tl-.is with that lace will do well ; "
But, " This with ir,v discretion will be brave."
Much curiousnesbe 5 is a perpetuall wooing
Nothing with labour, folly long a-doing.
1 i. e. the prodigal who wastes his money on cnrions and fanciful
objects. Unthrift is used substai lively in " Richard II." ii. 3. where
Bolingbroke speaks of " upstart inthrifts." So Dryden in " Hind and
Panther "(pt. iii. II. 295-7).
' The illustrations from the clothes may be an allusion to the
ludicrous exaggeration in widtl of the trunk-hose worn in King
James I. 'g time.— LOWE. Extra .-agance in dress being such a vicei
of the age, Herbert makes it staid for all unthrift; but he speaks
of clothes only, not of curious anl fanciful objects. Cnrions is here
— fanciful; and this sense is di rived, as it were, from the two
meanings of " curious," according as it refers to the agent or object
— painstaking or over-busy, and s> range or finished by art — over-busy
in reference to curious fashions, fanciful. See on 1 5.
3 The context shows this is — sj end not in hopes of preferment, —
not credit (so Lowe). — waste not vour substance thns. I have put
a hyphen in " pleading-clothes," as making the sense clearer ana as
it really is a compound word. 8;e longer Notes and Illustrations
(g), as before.
4 See longer Notes and Illustrations (A), as before.
5 Used for affectation in dres«, always striving to produce a ne\
THE CHURCH PORCH. 23
XXXIII.
Play not for gain, but sport.1 Who playes for more
Then he can lose with pleasure, stakes his heart ;
Perhaps his wive's too, and whom she hath bore :
Servants and churches also play their part.2
Onely a herauld,3 who that way doth passe,
Findes his crakt name at length in the
church-glasse.
XXXIV.
If yet thou love game at so deer.e a rate,
Learn this, that hath old gamesters deerly cost :
Dost lose? rise up; dostwinne? rise in that state :
Who strive to sit out losing hands are lost.
Game is a civil gunpowder,4 in peace
Blowing up houses with their whole increase.
XXXV.
In conversation boldnesse 5 now bears sway :
But know, that nothing can so foolish be
' t. t. you may play a game, but not as gambling ; for the game ( i. e.
sport), not to make or lose money.
* At the dissolution of the monasteries, many of the Church lands
and buildings were gambled away at Court. — LOWE. And much
later too ; yet as Herbert speaks of " servants and churches," his
meaning probably was, that as in gambling he lost not his own merely
bat his wife's and children's fortunes, so he also spent that dne to his
servants, and the alms and oblations due to his God. Hence, by a
figure, he says that in playing away these the servants and churches
play their part with him, go partners in his play, and with him lose
their part.
* Reckless gambling will bring a man to such entire rnin, that no
memory of his name or state will survive, except a fragment of his
arms in a painted window in the church ; and this will be understood
only by a scientific herald, who shall be coming round, as was his cus-
tom, at intervals of about thirty years, under the authority of Royal
Commissions, for the purpose of enquiring into all matters connected
with the bearing of arms, genealogies, Jtc. The earliest visitation
recorded was in 1413, the latest in 1686. Bontell's " Heraldry":
article on Visitations, p. 132.— LOWE. Bnt Dr. Lowe misses the hit
in "crakt name," i. e. too poor to see it mended.
4 Civil, i. e. domestic, as opposed to foreign. The Gunpowder- plot
in 16"o [and its annual commemoration] would give special point to
this illustration. — LOWE.
* The reference is to the bold impudence and self-as&eiuou of
gallants and other braggadocios. The first line is the general tneme,
therefore I pnnctuate (:) and boldnesse (:) 1. 3; but "get" is a repe-
tition or re-enforcement of first assay, and 1. 6, the parallel clause to
" Then march." Hence worth ( ;), not as usually (:).
24 THE TEMPLE.
As empty boldnesse: therefore first assay
To stuffe thy minde with solid braverie ; l
Then march on gallant : get substantiall worth ;
Boldnesse guilds finely, and will set it forth.
xxxvi.
Be sweet to all. Is thy complexion2 sowre ?
Then keep such companie ; make them thy allay ; J
Get a sharp wife, a servant that will lowre :
A stumbler stumbles least in rugged way.
Command thy ^elf in chief. He life's warre
knows,4
Whom all his passions follow as he goes.
xxxvn.
Catch not at quarrels.8 He that dares not speak
Plainly and home is coward of the two.6
Think not thy fame at ev'ry twitch will break ;
By great deeds shew that thou canst little do, —
And do them not ; 7 that shall thy wisdome be ;
And change thy temperance into braverie.
1 t. e. handsomeness of apparel, and here used as applied to the
apparel of the mind. This is shown by " march on gallant." But 4
there is a secondary and somewhat humorous allusion to bravery in |
its other sense, the bold bravery of empty words. The secondary I
is the primary in sr. xxxvii. 1. 6, and the primary here the secondary, ij
* As we should say, disposition. In olden times men's characters *i
were said to depend very much upon the composition of their humours, n
which physicians said were four ; and as these humours will affect £
the complexion, it was taken for the disposition. — LOWE.
1 ». e. alloy, used, as here, for anything which in combination abates / •
or allays a predominant quality or humour. Dryden uses complexion '
and allay in like relation (" Stanzas on Oliver Cromwell " 1. 'J.~i>.
4 i. e. skilled in. He is a skilled captain in Life's wars, whether
those of internal mutiny or of social life.
* So Polonins : — " Beware
Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in,
Bear 't, that th' opposer may beware of thoe."
t. i. 3.
' t. e. yon are not a coward for not taking np an affront that was ]
only hinted : if an affront was meant he who was afraid to go beyond .
the hint is the coward, not you.
' The whole is, Catch not at quarrels, yet on occasion speak plainly
and home. Be not ready to resent little slights, as though they in- i
iured your fame ; do great deeds, and show by them ;.
lesser, but such lesser as quarrelling on account of these slights, do
them not. That shall be thy wisdom, &c.
THE CHURCH PORCH. 25
xxxvm.
If that thy fame with ev'ry toy be pos'd,1
Tis a thinne web,2 which poysonous fancies
make.
But the great Rouldier's 3 honour was com pos'd
Of thicker stufle, which would endure a shake.
Wisdome picks friends ; civilitie plajes the
rest : 4
A toy shunn'd cleanly passeth with the best.5
XXXIX.
Laugh not too much; the wittie man laughs
least ;
For wit is newes only to ignorance.
Lesse at thine own things laugh, lest in the jest
Thy person share, and the conceit advance :
Make not thy sport abuses ; for the fly
That feeds on dung is coloured thereby.
XL.
Pick out of mirth, like stones out of thy ground,
Profanenesse, filthinesse, abusivenesse ;
These are the scumme, with which course wits
abound :
The fine6 may spare these well, yet not go lesse.
1 Bee longer Notes and Illustrations (i), as before.
' Uml. (». s Ibid. (A).
4 May be used in the Angler's sense, bat play at games was so
common, that allusions are constantly drawn from it ; uiul it seems
Bore probable, as more agreeable to the sense, that the phrase is
drawn thence— he engages and sportively opposes with a cheerful
aril courtesy all those whom wisdom does not choose as friends:
civilly associates, yet as at tennis keeps a line of demarcation, or as
at cards, is of the other side.
* t. *. the " toys of society " shunned so far as to receive no ill from
them, is a thing that receives the esteem and approbation of the
wisest and best, i. e. passes or receives the mark of their approval.
6 i.e. that which is " fined " (a technical term in cookery, Ac.), by
moval of the scum. The word is therefore used in a conceitfnl or
double sense, in contrast both with scumme and course, i.e. coarse
(hue . ).
26 THE TEMPLE.
All things arebigge1 with jest ; nothing that's
plain
. But may be wittie,2 if thou hast the vein.
XLI.
Wit's an unruly engine, wildly striking
Sometimes a friend, sometimes the engineer;3
Hast thou the knack? pamper it not with liking;
But if thou want it, buy it not too deere.
Many affecting wit beyond their power
Have got to be a deare fool for an houre.
XLLT.
A sad4 wise valour is the brave complexion
That leads the van and swallowes up the cities.
The gigler5 is a milkmaid, whom infection6
Or a fir'd beacon 7 frighteth from his ditties :
1 Used here as in st. vi. for pregnant, its proper meaning ; so in
Cowper's hymn : —
" Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take,
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy, and shall break
In blessings on your head."
The familiar nse of "big" for large or great is incorrect. — LOWE.
Where Dr. Lowe found his etymology I do not know. One inn.nvct
nsage is old enough. Chaucer tells of a " big bow." Does " great "
also properly mean "pregnant," because we say "great with child"?
We don't say a woman is " big," but " big with child," and this
alone shows pregnant is not its original meaning.
8 i.e. may be made matter of " wit " or jest. " Wittie " and " wit"
are used as "wise" and "wisdom." The meaning is : Laugh
not overmuch at thine own good things, lest, according to the axiom
in line 2, it be thought thy wit is news to thy ignorance, and so
wonder in the bystanders that so good a thing should come from so
seemingly poor a wit, advance their appreciation of thy conceit or
happy thought.
3 " 'Tis the sport to have the engineer hoist with his own petard." '
(" Hamlet," iii. 4.)
4 See longer Notes and Illustrations (0. &* before.
s The " gigler " is the man without reflection, or sense of respon- '
sibility, jesting on all that passes ; such an one's weakness under
trial, temptation, or affliction, shows him a Pistol or a Falstaff as
against a brave Prince Hal. He is a braggart soldier, with no more
courage than a milkmaid, and any threat of danger, or semblance of
alarm, puts his mouth to silence. — LOWE. But see longer Note on
" sad " (line 1).
* The Plague and other pestilences so frequent in London und
England verify this nse of " infection."
7 i.e. a beacon kindled, as in cases of alarm through invasion of
enemies.
THE CHURCH PORCH. 27
Then he's the sport ; the mirth then in him
rests,
And the sad man is cock ' of all his jests.
XLIII.
Towards great persons use respective2 boldnesse;
That temper gives them theirs,3 and yet doth take
Nothing from thine; in service,4 care or coldnesse
Doth ratably thy fortunes marre or make.
Feed no man in his sinnes ; fonadulation
Doth make thee parcell-devil5 in damnation.
XLIV.
Envie not greatnesse ; for thou mak'st thereby
Thyself the worse, and so the distance greater.
Be not thine own worm ;6 yet such jealousie7
As hurts not others, but may make thee better,
1 When the "gigler" is thus discomfited, the grave man whom he
may have floated turns his ridicule upon him. The cock is used for
• conqueror, as Swift says : —
" My schoolmaster called me a dunce and a fool,
But at ruffs I was always the cock of the school."— LOWE.
* i.e. boldness or independence tempered with the respect due to
greatness.— LOWE. The Williams MS. has " respectful," but " re-
spective" seems the finer word, as involving more clearly the
thought of looking back on or considering the state of the person
-••<!. It is used by Shakespeare and others, but gradually fell
into disuse.
* i.e. all that is their due ; used absolutely, as thine in next line.
— LOWE.
* But where yon are a dependent, care or attention to your patron
is needed, for in proportion to your alacrity or your indifference is
the making or marring of your fortune.— LOWE.
1 " Parcel " is the diminutive of part and means a share ; so we
•ay " parcel-gilt plate." The compound word here means one who
goes shares with the devil by helping the ruin of the man who is
nattered in his sins. — LOWE. " Flattered," as when a man who
really is a drunkard is called " good fellow," or a spendthrift "gene-
roni," &c.
< The warning against envy fitly follows that against flattery, for,
•s another poet says, " Envy to small minds is flattery." — (Youso.)
The rankling effects of envy have led all poets to speak of envy's
Herbert puts the tooth into the worm which he would say
the envious man takes into his heart to eat put his peace. Horace
»y», " Iiivuliii Sii-uli non invenere tyramii Tormentum majus."
" Epist." I. ii. 58.)— LOWE. The source of Herbert's phrase was the
•mMems which represent Envy as feeding on her own snakes, that
woe as hair from her head. » i.e. emulation. Cf. Hebrews v. 24.
28 THE TEMPLE.
Is a good spurre. Correct thy passions' spite ;
Then may the beasts draw thee to happy
light.1
XLV.
When basenesse is exalted,2 do not bate
The place its honour for the person's sake ;
The shrine is that which thou dost venerate,
And not the beast that bears it on his back.3
I care not though the Cloth of State should be
Not of rich arras4 but mean tapestrie.
XLVI.
Thy friend put in thy bosome ;5 wear his eies
Still in thy heart,6 that he may see what's there.
If cause require thou art his sacrifice,
Thy drops of bloud7 must pay down all his fear j
But love is lost, the art of friendship's gone,8
Though David had his Jonathan, Christ his j
John.
1 The sanctified passions become instruments of a blessing.-j
WILIMOTT.
» Cf. Psalm xii. 8, and St. Matthew xxiii. 2, 3.
* See longer Notes and Illustrations (»i), ** before.
4 Arras was a superior kind of tapestry, so called from the Frencj
town where it was made. Tapestry is here used for any kind J
common hangings, while arras would* be such as was woven into rkl
devices. " Ihe Cloth of State" is of value for what it representl
not for what it is. What would a broker give for Edward the Col
ft-ssor's chair, on which the Sovereigns of England are crowned, I
he valued it as an article of furniture only 1 — LOWE. See note <l
No. 147. The Forerunners, line 26.
« So " Hamlet" (i. 3) :—
" The friends thon hast, and their adoption tried.
Grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel."
8 The blessing of a true friend is to correct onr evils : so take hi
into thy confidence, and let him know thee entirely.— LOWE. Y
must there ever be things revealable to God alone.
' Such was Antonio's friendship (" Merchant of Venice," iv. 1).
8 Albeit, as shown by Scott in his "Fortunes of Nigel," there »
this "decay," we must accept this lamentation with allowani
Elijah imagined he was left alone, while there were still tliousar
" true and faithful" (1 Kings xix. 10-18, and Romans xi. 2-4).
THE CHURCH PORCH. 29
XLVII.
Yet be not surety,1 if thou be a father :
Love is a personall debt,2 I cannot give
My children's right, nor ought ho take it : rather
Both friends3 should die then hinder them to live.
Fathers first enter bonds to Nature's ends,
And are her sureties ere they are a friend's.
XLvm.4
If thou be single, all thy goods and ground
Submit to love ; but yet not more then all :
Give one estate, as one life. None is bound
To work for two, who brought himself to thrall.
God made me one man ; love makes me no more,
Till labour come and make my weaknesse score.
XLIX.
In thy discourse, if thou desire to please,5
All such is courteous, usefull, new, or wittie :
Usefulnesse comes by labour,6 wit by ease ;
Courtesie grows at Court, news in the citie :
Get a good stock of these, then draw the card
That suites him best, of whom thy speech is»heard.
' "Hamlet" (i. 3): —
" Neither a borrower nor a lender be ;
For loan oft loses both itself and friend.
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry."
Herbert is less absolute than Polonins. — LOWE. More scriptural too.
Bee Psalms xxxvii. 2tj ; cxii. 5 ; Proverbs xxii. 7.
* Love has to do only with the two persons it binds together.
Whatever proceeds from any other source than the personal regard
of these parties for one another is not love. In I. 4 of this stanza,
" them " refers to children, not to friends. — LOWE. Dr. Lowe mis-
BndtTstands this. Herbert's argument is, Love is only a personal
debt : you cannot engage the welfare and rights of your children in it.
' i. e. yonr friend and yourself.
* See longer Notes and Illustrations (n), as before.
' " If. please [take this rule], all pleasing discourse is, &e. The
construction is abnormally elliptical und strong. Please (:), as
usually, makes it stronger. To understand the construction, " nil "
muM lie taken as referring to the thought included in the previous
•enti-iice ; that is, it refers not to " discourse," but to all " pleasing
discourse." Such colloquialism occurs not uufrequeiitly in our old
writers.
* See longer Notes and Illustrations (o), as before.
30 THE TEMPLE.
L.
Entice all neatly1 to what they know best;
For so thou dost thyself and him a pleasure ; —
But a proud ignorance2 will lose his rest,
Bather then shew his cards ; — steal from hi
treasure 3
What to ask further : doubts well-rais'd do loc
The speaker to thee, and preserve thy stock.
IX.
If thou be master-gunner, spend not all
That thou canst speak at once, but husband it,
And give men turns of speech ;4 do not forestall
By lavishnesse thine own and others' wit,
As if thon. mad'st thy will :5 a civil guest
Will no more talk all then eat all the feast.
LII.
Be calm in arguing : for fiercenesse 6 makes
Errour a fault, and truth discourtesie.
Why should I feel another man's mistakes
More then his sicknesses or pove^tie?7
In love I should ; but anger is not love,
Nor wisdome neither; therefore gently move.
* i.e. nicely, persuasively.
z See longer Notes aud Illustrations (p), as before.
» Ibid. (ifj.
4 " Let him be sure to leave other men their turns to speak. Na;
if there be any that would reign and take up all the time, let hi
find means to take them off, aud bring others on : as musicians u
to do with those that dance too long gailtards." — BACON, Essays
xxxii. "Master-gunner" (1. 1) was the chief gunner of a plac«
army, or ship. He had charge of the ammunition, and it was his dut
to serve it out in due proportion, and to see that it w;is used wit
due discretion, and not wasted all at once. The term is used t
Shakespeare. Hall and Holinshed (uf. Richardson, s. v.).
* i.e. give not away thy whole stork as though thou madest th
" will." See Cowper's " Table Talk," on the proportion of coi
versa tion.
6 i.e. flercenesse makes as though your adversaries' error were
fault aud makes your truth-telling a discourtesy. Hut calmness in a
gument and otherwise, is a thing of temperament and circumstanc
' See longer Notes and Illustrations (r), as before.
THE CHURCH PORCH. 31
LIII.
Calmiiesse is great advantage ; he that lets
Another chafe, may warm him at his fire,
Mark all his waudriugs, and enjoy his frets,
As cunning fencers suffer heat to tire.
Truth dwels not in the clouds ;x the bow that's
there
Doth often aim at, never hit the sphere.
LIV.
Mark what another sayes ; for many are
Full of themselves, and answer their own notion.2
Take all into thee ; then with equall care
Ballance each dramme of reason, like a potion.
If truth be with thy friend, be with them both,
Share in the conquest, and confesse a troth.3
LV.
Be useful where thou livest,4 that they may
Both want and wish thy pleasing presence still.
Kinduesse, good parts,5 great places, are the way
To compasse this. Finde out men's wants and will,
And meet them there. All worldly joyes go lesse
To the one joy of doing kindnesses.
1 As heat engendereth clouds by exhalation, so anger obscnreth
controversy. Clouds are ever shifting, and truth, as being stable,
cannot dwell there. Even the rainbow, though stretched as if
liming at the blue vaults above, never reaches it ; for it drifts away
with the clouds. It is the culm and cloudless weather which shows
the blue sky above — the type of perpetual truth.— LOWE. Thomas
Brooks, the old Puritan writer, somewhere speaks finely of the
rainbow as " the Bow of God, to which He has given no string and
furnished with no arrows of vengeance."
1 i. e. attend to what others say, for many are full, not of argument
but of their own conceits, and them you can listen to, and use if yon
Will their own computation of their own position.
* Dr. Lowe's disquisition on Truth and Troth, as in very many
other coses, is out of pluce, because Herbert simply uses Truth and
Troth in their ordinary signification. If truth be with thy friend, do
Ac. and confess your belief in it.
* First, " Be useful," of use; not idle and of no good to any. Then,
" Be useful -where thou livest;" an appeal against non-residents —
needed still.
* i.e. kindness, good parts, and rank and position, are those things
which give the means of being useful where thou livest.
32 THE TEMPLE
LVI.
Pitch thy behaviour low,1 thy projects high ;
So shalt thou humble and magnanimous be :
Sink not in spirit ; who aimeth at the sky
Shoots higher much then he that means 2 a tree.
A grain of glorie mixt with humblenesse
Cures both a fever and lethargicknesse.3 .
LVII.
Let thy minde still be bent, still plotting where
And when and how the businesse may be done.4
Slacknesse breeds worms ;5 but the sure traveller,
Though he alight sometimes, still goeth on.
Active and stirring spirits live alone ;
Write on the others " HERE LIES SUCH A ONE."
LVIII.
Slight not the smallest losse, whether it be
In love or honour ; take account of all :
Shine like the sunne in every corner : see
Whether thy stock of credit swell or fall.
Who say " I care not," those I give for lost,
And to instruct them 'twill not quit the cost, i
LIX.
Scorn no man's love, though of a mean degree,6 —
Love is a present for a mightie king ;
1 i. «. on the level or humbly, as glossed by " humble " (1. 2).
7 Another example of Herbert's curiosa felicitas, an art so remark-
able in Shakespeare. Means, t. e. intenoeth at, or aimeth :n . \<-
conveys by its sound the thought that the aim is comparative!]
"mean " or low. Cf. 132. The Answer, 1. 9.
3 Dr. Lowe is again in error here. Herbert does not refer to bei
perfect as God is perfect. If the perfection of God spoken of in ,
Matthew (v. 48) had been that described in the text, " a behavi
low," \t\, then the remarks and reference would be apposite, V
otherwise.
4 Once more Dr. Lowe is most irrelevant on this. Herbert si raplj
says. When you have a business to do, do it with all yonr mind, anc
withont slackness or delay.
' Alluding to the belief that worms, frogs, and the like are deve-
loped by spontaneous generation out of slimy stagnant mini.
8 "A child's service is little, yet he is no little fool that despi^e
it." (" Jacula 1'ruiUiitum.") Cf. 70. Charms and knots, 11. 3, 4.
THE CHURCH PORCH. 33
Much lesse make any one thine enemie :
As gunues destroy, so may a little sting.
The cunning workman never doth refuse
The meanest tool that he may chance to use.
LX.
All forrain l wisdome doth amount to this,
To take all that is given, whether wealth,
Or love, or language ; nothing comes amisse ;
A good digestion turneth all to health :
And then, as farre as fair behaviour may,
Strike off all scores ; none are so cleare as they.
LXI.
Keep all thy native good,2 and naturalize
All forrain of that name ; but scorn their ill ;
Embrace their activenesse, not vanities :
Who follows all things, forfeiteth his will.
If thou observest 3 strangers in each fit,
In time they'l runne thee out of all thy wit.
LXII.
Affect in things about thee cleanlinesse,
That all may gladly board thee,4 as a flowre.
1 i.e. all the wisdom of foreign travel, all the precepts to be observed,
are confined in this. The word " language " shows, that here, and in
the next stanza, he is speaking of the rales which should guide one
in that tour abroad which was then the necessary complement of a
gentleman's education.
» «« Hamlet," i. 3. "To thine own self be true,
And it mast follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man."
But the man must in such case be " true." Let him be " false " and
the more he is " true " to himself, the falser mast he be all round.
* In the way of obsequiousness. So Polonins(" Hamlet," i. 3.) " Do
not dull thy palm with entertainment of each new-hatch'd, unfledg'd
comrade." — LOWE. Dr. Lowe has somewhat misunderstood this.
Pplonius is speaking, not of obsequiousness, but of too readily enter-
taining those who are obsequious ; and secondly, he is speaking of
I entertaining individuals ; while the whole context of Herbert shows
that he is not alluding to obsequiousness to persons, but of being un-
duly obsequious, or observant in adopting without judgment all the
fashions, manners, and customs of foreigners, — a folly then common,
and spoken against by almost every writer of the age.
4 '.-. welcome thee as an ornament to their table, not less graceful
than flowers.— LOWE. French, aborder, to go or come side by side
34 THE TEMPLE.
Slovens take up their stock of noisomenesse1
Beforehand, and anticipate their last houre.
Let thy miude's sweetnesse have his operation
Upon thy body, clothes, and habitation.
LXIII.
In almes regard thy meanes and others' merit ; 2
Think heav'n a better bargain then to give
Onely thy single market-money3 for it ;
Joyn hands with God to make a man to live.
Give to all something; to a good poore man
Till thou change names,4 and be where he began.
LXIV.
Man is God's image ; but a poore man is
Christ's stamp to boot ; 5 both images regard.
God reckons 6 for him, count the favour His ; '
Write " Somuch giv'n to God : " thou shalt be heard.
Let thy almes goe before8 and keep heav'n's gate
Open for thee ; or both may come too late.9
with : hence it has the same etymology and meaning as accost
(accoast, Fr. coste or c&te) : " accost her or front her, board her, 1
woo her, assail her." (" Twelfth Night," i. 3.) As & resulting sense, j
the French abarder also means to become familiar with (Cotirnoc). '
1 The traditional peck of dust which every cue has to swallow : with I
the sab-thought of the noisomenesse of the decaying body in thej
grave.
3 Herbert's maxims have now risen from morality to religion ;
as are all other religions acts, so is almsgiving a social, mom I, an
political virtue. " There is that scattereth and yet increaseth,
(Proverbs xi. 24). Herbert's own precept is but an English \vrsi<
of Cicero's : " ne major benignitas sit, quam facnltates : turn, ut ]
dignitate cuiqne tribuatur." — LOWE.
3 To " give " personally, rather than merely " send," is often i
measure of difference between bare " duty " and lovingkindne
kind look, word, grasp of the hand, goes infinitely beyond the i
amount, or, as Herbert means, the lowest price and nothing to 1
4 i.e. be a good poor man.
• i. e. in addition.— WILLMOTT. Cf. 2 Cor. viii. 9.
• Cf. St. Matthew, xviii. 10.
7 Cf. St. Matthew, xxv. 40 : Proverbs, xix. 17.
8 Acts x. 4.
• A warning against death-bed charities. — LOWE. That is, wt
the " charities " are exclusively made there.
THE CHCRCH PORCH. 35
LXV.
Restore to God His due in tithe and time ;
A tithe purloin'd l cankers the whole estate.
Sundaies observe ; think when the bells do chime,*
"Tis angels' musick ; therefore come not late.
God then deals blessings : if ar king did so,
Who would not haste, nay give, to see the show ?
LXVI.
Twice on that day His due is understood ; 3
For all the week thy food so oft He gave thee.
Thy cheere is mended ; bate not of the food,
Because 'tis better, and perhaps may save thee.
Thwart not th' Almighty God: 0,be not crosse ! 4
Fast when thou wilt; but then 'tis gain, not losse.
Lxvn.
Though private prayer be a brave desigoie,
Yet publick hath more promises, more love ;
And love's a weight to hearts, to eies a signe.5
We all are but cold suitours ; let us move
1 I think I hare seen an old book which went to show that no
grandson inherited lauds despoiled from the Church. Herbert may
ten- refer to some similar idea or belief.
' Sonthey says beautifully of the chime, that "it is a music hallowed
by all circumstances, whic-h, according equally with social exultation
and with solitary pensiveuess, though it falls upon many an unheeding
ear, never fails to find some hearts which it exhilarates, and some
whk-h it softens." — WU.LMOTT.
. * In 11. 1, 2, Herbert says, " Give God His due twice on Sunday,"
for all the week thy two ( " main ") meals are given by Him. Then
in II. :t — 6 he proceeds to the receiving of the Holy Communion,
the receiviug of which he earnestly enforces in other poems, thus
giving their full significance to all the phrases of 1). 3, 4, and to the
•• Tli wart," of 1. 5, and " fast " of 1. 6 : to " fast " where God intends
you to feast is loss. "That" from the Williams MS. for "the" is
adopted.
4 ». e. contrary, opposed.
' i. e. an inducement or weighty argument to the heart, conveyed
to it through the signs understood and exchanged by the eyes. So
the sight of a vast congregation praying is a sign of love, which the
eyes convey to the heart. — LOWE. This scarcely explains the text.
The love that brings one and all to the House of God is a " sign " to
the eyes, while the love shown by the multitude, through the sympathy
of feeling engendered by a multitude, increases or heightens the love
36 THE TEMPLE.
Where it is wannest : leave thy six and seven ; 1
Pray with the most, for where most pray is heaven.2
LXV1II.
When once thy foot enters the Church, be bare ; 3
God is more there then thou ; for thou art there
Onely by His permission : then beware,
And make thy self all reverence and fear.
Kneeling ne're spoil'd silk stocking; quit thy
state ;
All equall are within the Churche's gate.
LXIX.
Eesort to sermons, but to prayers most :
Praying's the end of preaching. 0, be drest ;
Stay not for th' other pin ! 4 Why, thou hast lost
A joy for it worth worlds. Thus Hell doth jest
Away thy blessings, and extreamly flout thee ; 5
Thy clothes being fast, but thy soul loose about
thee.
in each individual heart. Throughout Herbert is thinking of the
effect of a one-thinking multitude iu intensifying the feelings of each
component of the crowd. See Note on 1. 5. See also the Memoir
for remarks on prayer in relation to preaching.
1 This, probably, was not chosen merely for the rhyme, but is an
allusion to the saying "at sixes and sevens,'' then often written in the
singular, e. g. Thomas Tnsser
-" setteth his soul upon six or on seven,
Not fearing nor caring for hell nor for heaven."
Good Husbandly Lessons, 1558.
The effect of numbers is not only warmth, but more unanimity:
hence "where most pray is Heaven :" where there are few it is
colder, and each, uninfluenced by the sympathy of the multitude, is
more apt to be thinking of his own concerns.
2 If the prayer be really praying, and not saying merely. I don't
know that prayer will hold the place in heaven which it does
en earth. It will be a glorified thing, partaking more of pr;u.>e.
Herbert elsewhere uses prayer, = prayer and praise, or praise, '
prayer.
3 i. e. uncovered, or bare-headed.
* Sunday delays, through over-dressing, has always been, alas, one
of the sins of Christians. Cf. Jac. Prud. " When prayers are done,
my lady is rea ly."
5 A common word in Herbert's time and Shakespeare's : probably
only used familiarly, as it does not occur in the Bible. In Walton'*
THE CHURCH PORCH. 37
LXX.
In time of service seal up both thine eies,1
And send them to thy heart, that, spying sinne,
They may weep out the stains by them did rise :
Those doores being shut, all by the eare comes in.
Who marks in church-time others' symmetrie
Makes all their beautie his deformitie.
LXXI.
Let vain and busie thoughts have there no part ;
Bring not thy plough, thy plots,2 thy pleasures
thither.
Christ purg'd His temple ; so must thou thy heart:
All worldly thoughts are but theeves met together
To couzin3 thee. Look to thy actions well ;
For churches are either our Heav'n or Hell.4
Lngler we have " Phillida flouts me." Lord Bacon (Essay xxxii.)
ays, " Tell truly, was there never a flout or dry blow given !"
' 'ft, at a later date, has :
tl
;
When yon pertly raise your snont,
Flear and gibe, and laugh and flout ;"
'arlyle speaks of the banner " flouting the wind." — LOWE.
T • */f. Kcclesiasticus xxxi. 13. "Seal" or "seel" (Fr. siller), a
technical term for closing hawk's eyes by passing a thread or feather
> Old Thomas Tusser very frequently uses the word thus, e.g. : —
(1) — " get gooAplot, to occupy
And store and use it husbandly."
The Ladder to Thrift.
(2) " A plot, set down for farmer's quiet."
The Farmer'* Daily Diet.
(3) " Chnse aptly thy plot."
January'! Husbandry
* An old-fashioned word for to cheat. In the Anglo-Saxon
version of the Lord's Prayer we have " ne gellffdde thee ns on
eoKtniing :" into cozening or specious temptation. The " theeves"
hrn- rt'ter obviously to Christ's words when He purged the Temple -.
" Ye have made it a den of thieves." (St. Matt. xxi. 13.) — LOWE.
The connection of " couzin " or cozen with "costnung" is doubtful.
Rather it appears to come from the Dutch kossen, to fawn on, etc.
« So are all spiritual privileges : 2 Cor. ii. 16. — LOWE. Deeper
38 THE TEMPLE.
LXXII.
Judge not the preacher, for He is thy judge j1
If thou mislike him, thou conceiv'st Him not :
God calleth preaching folly :2 do not grudge
To pick out treasures from an earthen pot :3
The worst speak something good ; if all want
sense,
God takes a text, and preacheth patience.
LXXIII.
He that gets patience, and the blessing 4 whic.
Preachers conclude with, hath not lost his paiie
He that by being at Church escapes the ditch e
Which he might fall in by companions, gains, te
He that loves God's abode, and to combine
With saints on earth, shall one day with th
shine.
LXXIV.
Jest not5 at preacher's language or expression
How know'st thou but thy sinnes made him m
carrie ? ,e
Then turn thy faults and his into confession :
God sent him, whatsoe'er he be ; O, tarry,
still— onr "motions" (1. 5) are the expression of erar inner charact.
or ought to be.
1 I hare (riven a capital H to "He" and " Him" (1. 2) in order
mark ont the thought, the controlling thought of Herbert, that <-•'
is »ar jndge, and will rejndge our judgment*. It is not true tl
"the preacher" isour" judge." So r<>o with "Him" in 1. 2. .'
of the servant springs often from mislike and mistrust of his M».-t m
If I hare a lofty and awful conception of God, I .-hall bring that • •_
me to the hearing of His "ambassador." Cf. St. Matt. xix. -
* Herbert remembers 1 Cor. i. 21. God nowhere "calleth prea<co
ing folly." Men di.l ; and the Apostle argues from their own ten jg
Or perhaps it might be maintained from 1 Cor. i. IT, "not Wjgj
wisdom of words, that St. Paul, in i. 21, was thinking al-
OWB infirmity: "his bodily tk, ami hi? •
temptible " (2 Cor. x. 10), and that Herbert, adopting this, says i
(••••T preacher, God may alone rail the preaching of man "foil
but that foolishness was able in St. Pan! to bring the Gentiles^
repentance and to God. ,
* " We hare this treasure in earthen Twsels." (2 Cor. if. 7.)
4 i.e. the Benediction at the close of sen i
* ijt. misdirected criticism on the man, i.e. the preacher.
41
IV. THE CHURCH.1
1. THE ALTAR.2
A broken Altar, Lord, Thy servant reares,
Made of a heart, and cemented with teares,
Whose parts are as Thy hand did
frame;
Xo workman's tool hath touch'd
the same.3 I
A heart alone
Is such a stone
As nothing but
Thy power doth cut.
Wherefore each part
Of my hard heart
Meets in this frame,
To praise Thy name :
That, if I chance to hold my peace,
These stones 4 to praise Thee may
not cease.
O, let Thy blessed Sacrifice be mine,
And sanctifie this Altar to be Thine ! 5
'
team of the crocodile, nor the howling o* the wolf. Avoid my
habitation, monsters!" (Act v. se. 1).
' Thb, not " The Temple," was Herbert's own title, in the
Wliams MS., Bodleian, Ac. See the Memoir, as before.
* The reader has seen in " The Church Porch " and Snperliminare
how, in those days, classical thoughts were mingled with Jewish and
Christian ; and here, though the altar was a wooden table, and the
allusion is to the unhewn stone altar of the Jews, the structural form
of the rerse imitates the pagan altar, and aa in Anomos' Altar and
Sacrifice to Disdain, in Davison's " Poetical Rhapsody," I hare en-
closed it in lines of that form. Herbert has a similar conceit in
Ea«ter Wings, and examples of pillars, pyramids, 4c., may be seen
i» Pnttenham's " Art of English Poetry," and in Joshua Sylvester'*
dedications before his " Da Bartas." Possibly (1. 1.) Herbert wished
to represent a broken altar. Cf. 11. Easter Wings, and 93. Sinne's
K i Exodus «x. 25. * St. Luke rix. 40.
* See the Memoir, as before, for Samuel Speed's copy after Herbert
here.
42 THE TEMPLE.
2. Tf THE SACEIFICE.1
ALL ye who passe by, whose eyes
and miiide
To worldly things are sharp, but to
Me blinde —
To Me, Who took eyes that I might you finde :
Was ever grief like Mine ?
The princes of My people make a head 5
Against their Maker : 2 they do wish Me dead,
Who cannot wish, except I give them bread :
Was ever grief like Mine ?
Without Me, each one who doth now Me brave
Had to this day been an Egyptian slave ; 10
They use that power against Me which I gave :
Was ever grief like Mine ?
Mine own Apostle who the bag did beare,
Though he had all I had, did not forbeare
To sell Me also, and to put Me there : 1 5
Was ever grief like Mine ?
For thirtie pence he 3 did My death devise
Who at three hundred did the ointment prize,
Not half so sweet as My sweet sacrifice :
Was ever grief like Mine ? 20
1 This is based on Lamentations i 12, and St. Matthew xxvfl. ^
40. See the Memoir, as before, for various readings.
* The Genevan version of Psalm ii. 2 is, " The Kings of the i
band themselves together, and the Princes are assembled
against the Lord and against His Christ."
3 Again (as in 1. 13) " he" is Judas ; but Herbert overlook
"Ae"was not alone. Cf. St. Matthew xxv' } St. Mark
St. John xii. 5.
THE SACRIFICE. 43
Therefore My soul melts, and My heart's doare
treasure
Drops bloud, the only beads1 My words to measure :
Oh, let this cup passe, if it be Thy pleasure :
Was ever grief like Mine ?
These drops being temper'd with a sinner's tears,
A balsome are for both the hemispheres,2 26
Curing all wounds but Mine, all but My fears :
Was ever grief like Mine ?
Yet My disciples sleep ;3 I cannot gain
One houre of watching ; but their drowsie brain 30
Comforts not Me, and doth My doctrine stain :
Was ever grief like Mine ?
"Arise! arise! they come !"4 Look how they
runne !
Alas, what haste they make to be undone !
How with their lanterns do they seek the sunne !
Was ever grief like Mine ? 36
With clubs and staves they seek Me as a thief,
Who am the way of truth, the true relief,
Most true to those who are My greatest grief :
Was ever grief like Mine ? 40
Judas, dost thou betray Me with a kisse ?s
Caust thou finde hell about My lips, and misse
Of life just at the gates of life and blisse P
Was ever grief like Mine ?
1 This is a kind of tacit protest against the Roman Catholic rosary
and its mechanical use— My blood the only beads [besides which there
is none other].
s i. e. a prophetic saying as to the whole earth, the old hemisphere
and the yet undiscovered new, the known and the antipodean.
"Curing all wounds" confirms this view, as in heaven there are
none to rare, none needing rare.
1 St. Matthew xxvi. 40, 43.
4 *t. Matthew xxvi. 46, 57.
* St. Lake xxii. 48.
44 THE TEMPLE.
See, they lay hold on Me, not with the hands 45
Of faith, but furie ; yet at their commands
I suffer binding, Who have loos'd their bands :
Was ever grief like Mine ?
All My disciples flie ; fear puts a barre 49
Betwixt My friends and Me : they leave the starre
That brought the wise men of the East from farre :
Was ever grief like Mine ?
Then from one ruler to another, bound
They leade Me, urging that it was not sound 54
Whatltaught; comments would the text confound :
Was ever grief like Mine ?
The Priest1 and rulers all false witnesse seek
'Gainst Him Who seeks not life, but is the meek
And readie Paschal Lambe of this great week :
Was ever grief like Mine ? 60
Then they accuse Me of great blasphemie,
That I did thrust into the Deitie,
Who never thought that any robberie :2
Was ever grief like Mine ?
Some said that I the Temple to the floore 65
In three days raz'd, and raised3 as before :
Why, He that built the world can do much more :
Was ever grief like Mine ?
Then they condemne Me all, with that same breath
Which I do give them daily, unto death ; 70
1 1632-3 hare " Priest" and so the Williams MS. i.'e. the High-
Priest. Usually misprinted "priests," one of various errors drawn
from the nnauthoritative texts of 1674, 1679, 1703, and later. I
adopt " Priest" as above, in preference to " priests " of St. Matthew
xxvi. 59 ; St. Mark xiv. 55.
3 Philippians ii. 6.
3 St. John ii. 19. So Drnmmond of Hawthornden : "Towns raxed,
and raised victorious" (" Ma'liades") : "Arches and stately tem-
ples which one age doth raise, doth not another raze "P (" '
Grove "). Cf. 24. The Temple, 1. 7.
THE SACRIFICE. 45
Thus Adam ' my first breathing rendereth :
Was ever grief like Mine ?
They binde and leade Me unto Herod ; he
Sends Me to Pilate :2 this makes them agree ;
But yet their friendship is My enmitie :3 75
Was ever grief like Mine P
Herod and all his bands do set Me light,
Who teach all hands to warre, fingers to fight,
And onely am the Lord of hosts and might :
Was ever grief like Mine ? 80
Herod in judgment sits, while I do stand,
Examines Me with a censorious 4 hand ;
I him obey, Who all things else command :
Was ever grief like Mine ?
The Jews accuse Me with despitefulnesse, 85
And, vying8 malice with My gentlenesse,
Pick quarrels with their onely happinesse :
Was ever grief like Mine ?
I answer nothing, but with patience prove
If stony hearts will melt with gentle love : 90
But who does hawk 6 at eagles with a dove ?
Was ever grief like Mine ?
My silence rather doth augment their crie ;
My dove doth back into My bosom e flic,
Because the raging waters still are high : 95
Was ever grief like Mine ?
Hark how they crie aloud still, Crucifie !
It is not fit He live a day ! they crie,
1 Thus Adam, i.e. his offspring in Adam's loins, returns My grant
of breath to him. (Gen. ii. 7.) Cf. Hebrew* vii. 9, 10.
1 St. Lnke xxiii. 12. 3 i. e. of or towards Me.
* i.e. ready to (mis)judge. ' i. e. contending.
* i. e. as in the spurt of " hawking."
46 THE TEMPLE.
Who cannot live lesse then eternally :
Was ever grief like Mine ? 100
Pilate, a stranger, holdeth off; but they,
Mine own deare people, cry, Away, away !
With noises confused frighting the day :
Was ever grief like Mine ?
Yet still they shout, and crie, and stop their eares,
Putting My life among their sinnes and fears, 106
And therefore wish My bloud on them and theirs :
Was ever grief like Mine ?
See how spite cankers things ! — these words,1
aright
Used and wished, are the whole world's light ; no
But hony 2 is their gall, brightnesse their night :
Was ever grief like Mine ?
They choose a murderer, and all agree
In him to do themselves a courtesie ;
For it was their own cause who killed Me : 115
Was ever grief like Mine ?
And a seditious murderer he was ;
But I the Prince of Peace, — peace that doth passe
All understanding more then heav'n doth glasse :
Was ever grief like Mine? iao
Why, Cesar is their onely king, not I.
HE 3 clave the stonie rock when they were drie,
But surely not their hearts, as I well trie :
Was ever grief like Mine ?
1 t. e. (1. 107.) " His blood be on ns and on onr children" (St. Matt,
xxvii. 25). Cf. the infinitely deep as tender words of St. Peter to
these same imprecators, in Acts of the Apostles, ii. Hit.
1 These similes suggested by the familiar incidents of the Crnci-
flzion.
1 This so seems to refer to Caesar that it unpleasantly stops the
reader. I therefore print HE.
THE SACRIFICE. 47
Ah, how they scourge Me ! yet my tendernesse 125
Doubles each lash : and yet their bitternesse l
Wiudes up My grief to a mysteriousnesse :
Was ever grief like Mine ?
They buffet Me and box Me as they list,
Who grasp the earth and heaven with My fist, 1 30
And never yet whom I would punish miss'd :
Was ever grief like Mine%?
Behold, they spit on Me in scornfull wise,
Who by My spittle2 gave the blinde man eies,
Leaving his blindnesse to Mine enemies : 135
Was ever grief like Mine ?
My face they cover, though it be divine :
As Moses' face was vailed, so is Mine,
Lest on their double-dark souls either shine :
Was ever grief like Mine ? 140
Servants and abjects flout 3 Me, they are wittie ;
" Now prophesie who strikes Thee," is their dittie;
So they in Me denie themselves all pitie :
Was ever grief like Mine ?
And now I am deliver'd unto death ; 145
Which each one calls for so with utmost breath,
That he before Me well-nigh suflereth :
Was ever grief like Mine ?
Weep not, deare friends, since I for both have wept,
When all My tears were bloud, the while you
slept : 1 50
Your tears for your own fortunes should be kept :
Was ever grief like Mine ?
1 t. e. their bitterness finally cnmulates in raystcrionsness, the
mystery of their redemption, by My taking the suffering for these
their sins, Tor their other sins, and for those of the whole world.
* St. John ix. 6. See Glossary under " spittle."
1 8«e Note on " The Church Porch," st. Ixix. 1. 5.
48 THE TEMPLE.
The souldiers leade Me to the common-hall :
There they deride Me, they abuse Me all ;
Yet for twelve heav'nly legions I could call : 155
Was ever grief like Mine P
Then with a scarlet robe they Me aray,
Which shews My bloud to be the onely way,
And cordiall left to repair man's decay :
Was ever grief like Mine ? i 60
Then on My head a crown of thorns I wear ;
For these are all the grapes Sion doth bear,
Though I My vine planted and watred there :
Was ever grief like Mine ?
So sits J the Earth's great curse in Adam's fall 165
Upon My head ; so I remove it all
From th' earth unto Mybrows, and bear the thrall:2
Was ever grief like Mine ?
Then with the reed they gave to Me before
They strike My head, the rock from whence all store
Of heav'nly blessings issue evermore : 171
Was ever grief like Mine ?
They bow their knees to Me, and cry, "Hail, King !" ,
What ever scoSes or scoriifuluesse can bring,
I am the floore, the sink, where they it fling : 175
Was ever grief like Mine ?
Yet since man's scepters are as frail as reeds,
And thorny all their crowns, bloudie their weeds,3 !
1 Cf. Genesis iii. 18 with St. Matt, xxvii. 29. A very remarkable
sermon, bringing out the thought here indicated suggestively, will be '
found in a little volume in memorial of a noble soul all too early re-
moved from the Church below — John Miichiren. "Memoir of the
Rev. John Maclaren including Selections from his Letters and Ser-
mons." Glasgow (Ogle): pp. 293-307, from 8t. Matthew xxvii. 29. j
* See Note on " The Church Porch," st. xx. 1. 4.
* i.e. garments. The reference is to the soldier's cast-off cloak I
lluug in mockery over His lacerated shoulders.
THE SACRIFICE. 49
I, Who am Truth, tnrn into truth their deeds :
Was ever grief like Mine ? 1 80
The souldiers also spit upon that Face
Which angels did desire to have the grace,
And prophets, once to see, but found no place :
Was ever grief like Mine P
Thus trimmed forth they bring Me to the rout, 1 85
Who " Crucifie Him ! " crie with one strong shout.
God holds His peace at man, and man cries out :
Was ever grief like Mine ?
They leade Me in once more, and putting then
Mine own clothes on, they leade me out agen. 190
Whom devils flie, thus is He toss'd of men :
Was ever grief like Mine ?
And now wearie of sport, glad to ingrosse
All spite in one, counting My life their losse,
They carrie Me to My most bitter crosse : 195
Was ever grief like Mine ?
My crosse I bear My self, untill I faint :
Then Simon bears it for Me by constraint, —
The decreed l burden of each mortal saint :
Was ever grief like Mine ? zoo
0, all ye who passe by, behold and see :
Man stole the fruit, but I must climbe the tree,2 —
The tree of life to all but onely Me :
Was ever grief like Mine P
The Williams MS. reads "gladsome" for "decreed," and "a"
" each,"— the former written probably with reference to Heb.
3; bnt in general, cross is nsed for persecution and bnrden,
Herbert doubtless changed his adjective because it was not
" r " gladsome " to Simon, who typifies the follower of Christ in
•ing (St. Matthew xvi. 24), and because the word does not well
d with the thought and general tone of the poem. Similarly,
and as Simon typifies in Herbert's view, the follower of Christ
" each " is preferable to " a."
1 i*. the Cross (Qolatians iii. 13).
E
50 THE TEMPLE.
Lo, here I hang, charg'd with a world of sinne, 205
The greater world o' th' two;1 for that came in
By words, but this by sorrow I must win :
Was ever grief like Mine ?
Such sorrow as if sinfull man could feel,
Or feel his part, he would not cease to kneel 210
Till all were melted, though he were all steel :
Was ever grief like Mine ?
But, 0 My God, My God, why leav'st Thou Me,
The Sonne in Whom Thou dost delight to be ?
My God, My God ^ \ 5
Never was grief like Mine.
Shame tears My soul, My bodie many a wound ;
Sharp nails pierce this, but sharper that con-
found, —
Reproches which are free, while I am bound :
Was ever grief like Mine ? 220
" Now heal Thyself, Physician ; now come down."
Alas, I did so, when I left My crown
And Father's smile,2 to feel for you His frown :
Was ever grief like Mine ?
In healing not Myself there doth consist 22
All that salvation which ye now resist ;
Your safetie in My sicknesse doth subsist :
Was ever grief like Mine ?
Betwixt two theeves I spend My utmost breath,
As he that for some robberie suffereth : 23
Alas, what have I stollen from you p death :
Was ever grief like Mine p
1 i.e. that the created visible world. Mi* the world of sin.
' I adopt from the Williams MS. the order " Father's smile, t
feel for you," in preference to 1632-3, " for you to feel."
I
THE THANKSGIVING. 51
A king My title is, prefixt on high ;
x"et by My subjects am condenm'd to die
A servile death in servile companie : 435
Was ever grief like Mine P
' 'hey gave Me vinegar mingled with gall,
Jut more with malice : yet, when they did call,
v^th manna, angels' food, I fed them all :
Was ever grief like Mine ? 240
1 .'hey part My garments, and by lot dispose
My coat, the type of love, which once cur'd those
Who sought for help, never malicious foes :
Was ever grief like Mine P
Nay, after death their spite shall further go ; 245
For they will pierce My side, I full well know ;
That as sinne came, so Sacraments ' might flow :
Was ever grief like Mine P
But now I die ; now all is finished ;
My wo man's weal, and now I bow My head : 250
Onely let others say, when I am dead,
Never was grief like Mine.
3. 11 THE THANKSGIVING.
H King of grief — a title strange, yet
true,
To Thee of all kings onely due —
Oh King of wounds, how shall I grieve
for Thee, .
Who in all grief preventest2 me ?
1 i.e. blood and water (St. John xix. 34).
1 prevent = anticipate : i.e. goest before. Cf. 139. " Self-condem-
Mtion," 1. 19.
52 THE TEMPLE.
Shall I weep bloud ? why, Thou hast wept such
store, 5
That all Thy body was one doore.1
Shall I be scourged, flouted,2 boxed,3 sold ?
"Tis but to tell the tale is told.
" My God, My God, why dost Thou part from Me?"
Was such a grief as cannot be. 10
Shall I, then, sing, neglecting4 Thy sad storie,
And side with Thy triumphant glorie ?
Shall Thy strokes be my stroking ? thorns my
flower ?
Thy rod my posie ?5 crosse my bower ?
But how, then, shall T imitate Thee, and 1 5
Copie Thy fair though bloudie hand ?
Surely I will revenge me on Thy love,
And trie who shall victorious prove.
If Thou dost give me wealth, I will restore
All back unto Thee by6 the poore. 20
If Thou dost give me honour, men shall see
The honour doth belong to Thee.
I will not marry ; or, if she be mine,
She and her children shall be Thine.
My bosome-friend, if he blaspheme Thy name, 15
I will tear thence his love and fame.
i 1679 edition originated the after-continued misprint of " one '
gore" — an error which even so keen-eyed a critic us Dr. QeoHHj
Macdonuld passed, and introduced into his quotation in " Autiphon " '
(p. 190).
* See Note on " The Church Porch," st. Ixix. I. 5.
3 i.e. struck with the clenched 8sts.
4 I adopt " neglecting" from the Williams MS. as being the more
harmonious, especially taken with the next line. 1632-3 and later
read : —
" Shall I then sing, skipping. Thy doleful storie."
Herbert no doubt altered to "neglecting " from the double meaning
of "skipping," ie. passing over, or neglecting, and dancing. It
is important to attend to Herbert's meaning, as the usual punctua-
tion (skipping,) mistakes it, as though he spoke of David's singing
and skipping, and destroys the sense.
s Bnnch ol flowers. " He was thinking of Aaron's rod, perhaps."
(" Antiphon," p. 190.)
« The Williams MS. reads " in " for " by." See the Memoir, as <,
before, on this.
THE THANKSGIVING. 53
One half of me being gone, the rest I give
Unto some chapell, die or live.
As for Thy1 passion — But of that anon,
When with the other I have done. 30
For Thy predestination, I'le contrive
That three years hence, if I survive,
I'le build a spittle,2 or mend common wayes,3
But mend mine own without delayes.
Then I will use the works of Thy creation, 35
As if I us'd them but for fashion.
The world and I will qnarrell ; and the yeare
Shall not perceive that I am here.4
My mnsick shall finde Thee, and ev'ry string
Shall have his5 attribute to sing ; 40
That all together may accord in Thee,
And prove one God, one harmonie.
If Thou shalt give me wit, it shall appeare,
If Thou hast giv'n it me, 'tis here.
Nay, I will reade Thy Booke, and never move 45
Till I have found therein Thy love,
Thy art of love,6 which I'le turn back on Thee : 7
0 my deare Saviour, Victorie !
Then for Thy Passion ; I will do for that —
Alas, my God, I know not what. 50
1 1679 misprints "my," and it hag been unhappily perpetuated.
Dr. Macdonald (•' Antiphon," p. 191) so misreads, and adds in a
footnote dormitatively, " To correspond to that of Christ."
' i.e. a spital, i.e. hospital. Herbert, nevertheless, would not have
disagreed with the solemn warning of quaint old Thomas Adams, of
Willmgton, as follows : "A man may have his name written in the
chronicles, yet lost ; written in durable marble, yet perish ; written
on a monument equal to a colossus, yet be ignominious ; written on
the hospital gates, yet go to hell." (" The Happiness of the Church,"
1618.)
* Not a rare provision in old wills.
* Cf. Parental ia, sv. ' i.e. its, as before.
* In opposition to the Poets' Art of Love, as Ovid.
' I punctuate " Thee :" not (,) as usually — because having so turned
bark God's love on Him, he cries in accord with 1. 18, his trying who
will victorious prove (Genesis zxxii. 28) :—
" O my deare Saviour, Victorie ! "
But the cry is premature ; there comes the Passion, and on it the cry
of the conquered : —
" Alas, my God, I know not what.
54 THE TEMPLE.
4. 1F THE SECOND THANKSGIVING,1 OR
THE REPRISALL.
HAVE consider'd it, and finde
There is no dealing with Thy mighty
Passion ;
For though I die for Thee, I am behinde ;
My sinnes deserve the condemnation.
0, make me innocent, that I 5
May give a disentangled state and free ;
And yet Thy wounds still my attempts defie,
For by Thy death I die for Thee.
Ah, was it not enough that Thou
By Thy eteruall glorie didst outgo me ? 10
Couldst Thou not Grief's sad conquests me allow
But in all vict'ries overthrow me ?
Yet by confession will I come
Into Thy conquest. Though I can do nought
Against Thee, in Thee I will overcome 1 1
The man 2 who once against Thee fought.
1 I adopt this heading from the Williams MS. in preference to
that of 1632-3 and after editions, because (1) it binds on this with the
previous as in the others : (2) it marks the fulfilment of the promi*
m the former (1. 29) ; (3) it opens with the words " I have considerec
it," in relation to 11. 29, 30 of the preceding. None the less is " I he
Reprisal! " a very noticeable heading, inasmuch us it curries in it the
tine thought that, since he cannot conquer God, he will, allied t"<;<> I
make reprisals on and overcome another — the old man. It is possible
therefore, that Herbert himself, und not Ferrar, made the change
aud hence I give it also as a .secondary title.
3 The old man in the heart, subdued by grace.— WILLMOTT. Bu
the words " subdued by grace " are ambiguous and unnecessary. He
subdued by grace, overcame " the old man in the heart : " he did no
overcome " the old man .... subdued by grace," i.e. The man—-
the old man in the heart. Cf. Col. in. 9; Kph. iv. 22; Rom. vi. 6.
55
5. T THE AGONIE.
'HILOSOPHERS have measur'd moun-
tains,
Fathom'd the depths of seas, of states,
and kings ;
Walk'd with a staffe l to heav'n, and traced foun-
tains :
But there are two vast, spacious things,
The which to measure it doth more behove; 5
Yet few there are that sound them, — Sinne and
Love.
Who would know Sinne, let him repair
Unto Mount Olivet ; there shall he see
A Man so wrung with pains, that all His hair,
His skinne, His garments bloudie be. 10
Sinne is that presse 2 and vice, which forceth pain
To hunt his cruell food through ev'ry vein.
Who knows not Love, let him assay
And taste thatjuice which, on the crosse, a pike
Did set again abroach ; 3 then let him say 1 5
If ever he did taste the like.
Love is that liquour sweet aud most divine,
Which my God feels as bloud, but I as wine.
1 The following treatise furnishes abundant illustration of this old
instrument: " The Description and Use of the Sector, Crosse, STAFFE.
»od other Instruments, with a Canon of artificial! Sines and Tangents
. . . . Hy Edm. Ounter, 1«36 (4°)." See Memoir, as before, for
parallel from Leighton.
* Isaiah Ixiii. :t.
* " Broach " is to tap ; " abroach " is here an adverb, t. e. on tap.
Hence to " set abroach " is equal to set running.
56 THE TEMPLE.
6. f THE SINNER.
!ORD, how I am all ague when I seek
What I have treasur'd in my
memorie !
Since, if my soul make even with the
week,
Each seventh note by right is due to Thee.
I finde there quarries of pil'd vanities, 5
But shreds of holinesse, that dare not venture
To shew their face, since crosse to Thy decrees :
There the circumference earth is, heav'n the centre.
In so much dregs the quintessence is small ;
The spirit and good extract of my heart 10
Comes to about the many hundredth part.
Yet, Lord, restore Thine image ; heare my call ;
And though my hard heart scarce to Thee can
grone,
Eemember that Thou once didst write in
stone.1
7. «|[ GOOD-FRIDAY.
MY chief good,
How shall I measure out Thy bloud ?
How shall I count what Thee befell,
And each grief tell ?
Shall I Thy woes 5
Number according to Thy foes P
1 Viz. the Law given by Muses (Exodus xxir. 12).
GOOD-FRIDAY. 57
Or, since one starre l show'd Thy first breath,
Shall all Thy death P
Or shall each leaf
Which falls in Autumne score 2 a grief? 10
Or cannot leaves, but fruit, be signe
Of the True Vine?
Then let each houre
Of my whole life one grief devoure,
That Thy distresse through all may runne, 15
And be my sunne.
Or rather let
[y sev'rall sinnes their sorrows get,
it as each beast his cure doth know,3
Each shine may so. 10
Since bloud is fittest, Lord, to write
Thy sorrows in and bloudie fight,
My heart hath store, write there, where in
One box doth lie both ink and sinne :
That when Sinne spies so many foes, 5
Thy whips, Thy nails, Thy wounds, Thy woes,
All come to lodge there, Shine may say,
" No room for me," and flie away.
Sinne being gone, 0, fill the place,
And keep possession with Thy grace ; 10
Lest sinne take courage and return,
And all the writings blot or burn.
1 St. Matthew ii. 9, 10. * i.e. mark for or ronnt as.
1 As the dog who knows his medVinahle herb; or as the weasel
was said to seek ' rue ' before encountering a mole ; or the mingoos
its herb when bitten by a snake — both erroneous, but the latter, un-
til Tery lately, believed to be a well-proved fact.
68 THE TEMPLE.
8. 1T REDEMPTION.
AVING been tenant long to a rich Lord,
Nob thriving, I resolved to be bold,
And make a suit unto Him, to afford
A new small-rented lease, and cancell
th' old.
In heaven at His manour I Him sought : 5
They told me there, that He was lately gone
About some laud, which he had deerly bought
Long since on Earth, to take possession.
I straight return'd, and knowing His great birth,
Sought Him accordingly in great resorts — 10
In cities, theatres, gardens, parks, and courts :
At length I heard a ragged noise and mirth
Of theeves and murderers ; there I Him espied,
Who straight, "Your suit is granted," said, and
died.
9.11 SEPULCHRE.
BLESSED bodie, whither art Thou
thrown ?
No lodging for Thee but a cold hard
stone !
So many hearts on earth, and yet not one
Receive Thee !
Sure there is room within our hearts good store, 5
For they can lodge transgressions by the score ;
Thousands of toyes J dwell there, yet out of doore
They leave Thee.
1 i.e. trifles, as before.
EASTER. 59
Bat that which shews them large shews them unfit:
Whatever sinne did this pure rock commit 10
Which holds Thee now ? who have indited l it
Of murder ?
Where our hard hearts have took up stones to brain 2
Thee,
And, missing this, most falsely did arraigne Thee,
Onely these stones in quiet entertain Thee, 1 5
And order.
And as of old tha Law by heav'nly arc
Was writ in stone ; so Thou, which also art
The letter of the Word, find'st no fit heart
To hold Thee. 20
Yet do we still iwrsist as we began,
And so should . >erish, but that nothing can,
Though it be c'ld, hard, foul, from loving man
Withhold Thee.
10. 1f EASTER.
, heart, Thy Lord is risen ; sing His
praise
Without delayes,
Who takes thee by the hand, that thou
likewise
With Him mayst rise ;
That, as His death calcined thee to dust,3 5
His life may make thee gold, and, much more, just.
1 i.e. indicted, i.e. accused anil summoned.
1 To beat ont the brains ; hence conies the modern phrase, " to
knock a scheme upon the head." — WILLMOTT. But while a cognate
phrase, the lutter is not derived from the former.
1 Formed apparently on the thought in Romans vi. 67. Christ
baring died for our sins, we died unto sin in His death ; and our
hearts, the body of our sin, were calcined into dust, that as ore is
burnt to ashes that the pure metal may flow out, so we, being
punned, may rise to newness of life. Herbert seems to have mingled
with the thought of the text quoted, one derived from the aacieut
60 THE TEMPLE.
Awake, my lute, and struggle for v,hy part
With all ,hy art :l
The crosse taught all wood to resound His name
Who bore the same ; 10
His stretched sinews taught all strings what key
Is best to celebrate this most h?gh day.
Consort2 both heart and lute, and twist a song
Pleasant and long ;
Or, since all musick is but three parts vied 1 5
And mi Itiplied,3
0, let Thy blessed Spirit bear a part,
And make up our defects with His sweet art.
THE SONG.4
I got me flowers to straw Thy wt y,
I got me boughs off many a tree ;
But Thou wast up by break of day,
And brought'st Thy sweets along with Thee.
The sunne arising in the East, 5
Though he give light, and th' East perfume,
If they should offer to contest
With Thy arising, they presume.
mode of burning the body, a thought due to the classical proclivities
of his age ; the influence of which, in our modes of expression as to
the dean and their ashes, has not yet died out.
1 After 11. 7, 8, he goes on to explain why each part of the lute
should awake and strive. Hence I punctuate art (:), not (.) as
usually.
3 Consort is the right word scientifically. It means the fitting
together of sounds according to their nature. Concert, however, ti
not wrong. It is even more poetic than consort, for it means a
striving together, which is the idea of all peace: the strife is together,
and not of one against the other. All harmony is an ordered, a
divine strife. In the contest of music, every tone restrains its foot
and bows its head to the rest in holy dance. — DR. GEORGE M*c-
DONjkLU (" Antiphon " : oo Milton, p. 205). To be read cum grano
nalis, seeing that consort was the then word and concert much later.
3 Seems to be here used — for only heart, lute, and Holy Spirit ore
mentioned— as = multi-plicns, i.e. many-twisted.
4 I give a new heading to notify that this is the song his heart and
lute sing.
EASTER. 61
Can there be any day but this,
Though many sunnes to shine endeavour? 10
We count three hundred,1 but we misse :
There is but one, and that one ever.
Another version, from the Williams MS.
I had prepared many a flowre
To straw Thy way and victorie ;
But Thou wast vp before myne houre, 1 5
Bringinge Thy sweets along with Thee.
The sunn arising in the East,
Though hee bring light and th' other sents,
Can not make vp so braue a feast
As Thy discouerie presents. 10
Yet though my flours be lost, they say
A hart can never come too late ;
Teach it to sing Thy praise this day,
And then this day my life shall date.
' i.e. round numbers for those of the year. Or, Is there the snb-
thonght that we count the year exactly in its ordinary days, bat
forget the sacred fifty-two and " holy " days, to our loss (" misse ") ?
62
THE TEMPLE.
11. H EASTEE WINGS.1
Lord, Who createdst man in wealth and store,
Though foolishly he lost the same,
Decaying more and more,
, Till he became
poore :
With Thee
'0 let me rise,
'As larks, harmoniously,
'And sing this day Thy victories :
'Then shall the fall further the flight in me.
y tender age in sorrow did beginue ;
And still with sicknesses and shame
Thou didst so punish einne,
That I became
Most thinne.
With Thee
'Let me combine,
'And feel this day Thy victorie ;
'For, if I imp my wing on Thine,
'Affliction shall advance the flight in me.
1 For other examples of the conceit which makes the rerw
a form resembling the subject, see Note on 1. " The Altar."
rse assume
63
12. f HOLY BAPTISMS.1
'S he that sees a dark and shadie grove
Stayes not, but looks beyond it on the
skie ;
So, when I view my siiines, mine eyes
remove
More backward still, and to that water flie
Which is above the heav'ns, whose spring and rent 2
Is in my dear Redeemer's pierced side. 6
0 blessed streams, either ye do prevent
And stop our sinnes from growing thick and wide,
Or else give tears to drown them, as they grow.
In you Redemption measures all my time, 10
And spreads the plaister eqnall to the crime :
Yon taught the Book of Life my name, that so,
Whatever future sinnes should me miscall,
Your first acquaintance might discredit all.
13. f HOLY BAPTISME.
NCE, Lord, to Thee
A narrow way and little gate
Is all the passage, on my infancie
Thou didst lay hold, and antedate
My faith in me. 5
0, let me still
Write Thee " great God," and me " a childe ; "
3t me be soft and supple to Thy will,
* See the Memoir, as before, for Various Readings.
1 i.e. U**ui-e. cleit.
64 THE TEMPLE.
Small to myself, to others milde,
Behither1 ill. 10
Although by stealth
My flesh get on ; yet let her sister,
My soul, bid nothing, but preserve her wealth :
The growth of flesh is but a blister;
Childhood is health.2 1 5
14. H NATURE.
| ULL of rebellion, I would die,
Or fight, or travell, or denie
That Thou hast ought to do with me :
0, tame my heart ;
It is Thy highest art 5
To captivate strongholds to Thee. *
If Thou shalt let this venome lurk,
And in suggestions fume and work,
My soul will turn to bubbles straight,
And thence, by kinde, 10
Vanish into a winde,
Making Thy workmanship deceit.
0, smooth my rugged heart, and there
Engrave Thy rev'rend Law and fear ;
Or make a new one, since the old 15
Is saplesse grown,
And a much fitter stone
To hide my dust then Thee to hold.
1 On this side of, or except in anything evil.— WII.LMOTT. Rather
= By or bye hither — a strengthened form of hither, implying well
or fairly on this side of.
* So St. Chrysostom : " The office of repentance is, when they hare
been made new, and then become old through sins, to free them from
their oldness, and make them new ; but it cannot bring them to their
former brightness, for then the whole was giod."— WILLJKJTT.
X
65
15. SINXE.
!OED, with what care hast Thou begirt
us round !
Parents first season us ; then school-
masters
Deliver us to laws ; they send us, bound
To rules of reason, holy messengers,
Pulpits and Sundayes, sorrow dogging sinne,1 5
Afflictions sorted, anguish of all sizes,
Fine nets and stratagems to catch us in,
Bibles laid open, millions of surprises ;
Blessings beforehand, tyes of gratefulnesse, ]
The sound of glorie ringing in our eares, 10
"Without, oui shame ; within, our consciences ;
Angels and grace, eternall hopes and fears.
Yet all these fences and their whole aray
One cunning bosome-sinne blows quite away.
16. f AFFLICTION.
|HEX first Thou didst entice to Thee my
heart,
I thought the service brave :
So many joyes I writ down for my part,
Besides what I might have
Out of my stock of naturall delights, 5
Augmented with Thy Grace's perquisites.2
1 " Fear dread event* that dog them both." — Comug, 1. 405.
' I adopt the Williams MS. here instead of " benefits," as iu 1632-3
ward. Its meaning is, matters unaccounted for to the lord or
master, anil which by custom become the gain of the office-holder,
agent, or ten-ant. Hence "Thy grace's perquisites" wonld most
naturally mean, the perquisites due to God's grace ; and it would be
P
66 THE TEMPLE.
I looked on Thy furniture so fine,
And made it fine to me ;
Thy glorious houshold-stuffe did me entwine,
And 'tice me unto Thee ; 10
Such1 starres I counted mine : both heav'u and earth
Payd me my wages in a world of mirth.
What pleasures could I want, whose King I served,
Where joyes my fellows were ?
Thus argu'd into hopes, my thoughts reserved )i 5
No place for grief or fear ;
Therefore my sudden soul caught at the place,
And made her youth and fierceuesse seek Thy face.
At first Thou gav'st me milk and sweetnesses,
I had my wish and way ; 20
My days were straw'd with flow' rs andhappim
There was no moneth but May.
But with my yeares sorrow did twist and grow,
And made a partie2 unawares for wo.
My flesh begun3 unto my soul in pain, 25
Sicknesses cleave my bones,
Consuming agues dwell in ev'ry vein,
And tune my breath to grones : I
Sorrow was all my soul; I scarce beleeved,
Till grief did tell me roundly, that I lived. 30
hard, though not perhaps quite impossible, to obtain any otherj
meaning from it. Seeing this, Herbert, I apprehend, altered it.'i
giving a clear sense if a worse rhyme as now " perquisites " is pro-
nounced.
' i.e. such and such. Cf. on 11. 11, 12, " The Church Porch," gt.W
xxix. 1. 3, " Take stars for money." This idea WHS perhaps one not I
unfrequent in those days, otherwise one might supjxise that tht |
brothers Grimm had read this passage, and from it written theii
household story of Star Dollars ; for it glosses the phrase bettei |
than any mere explanation.
2 Probably = side or faction (using faction without its deterior
meaning), or as we say "party," when, as in politics, religion
luw, &c., there is another opposite pars or party; " made a p
chentelege on the side of error."
* See on " begun " (by Coleridge and others) in longer Notes
Illustrations (s), as before.
AFFLICTION. 67
When I got health, Thou took'st away my life,
And more, — for my friends die :
My mirth and edge was lost, a blunted knife
Was of more use then I :
Thus thinne and lean, without a fence or friend, 3 5
I was blown thorough with ev'ry storm audwinde.
Whereas my birth and spirit rather took
The way that takes the town,
Thou didst betray me to a lingring book,1
And wrap me in a gown ; 40
I was entangled in the world of strife
Before I had the power to change my life.
Yet, for I threatned oft the siege to raise,
Not simpring all mine age,
Thou often didst with academick praise 45
Melt and dissolve my rage :
I took Thy sweetened pill till I came neare ;
I could not go away, nor persevere.
Yet lest perchance I should too happie be
In my unhappinesse, 50
Turning my purge to food, Thou throwest me
Into more sicknesses :
Thus doth Thy power cross-bias2 me, not making
Thine own gift good, yet me from my ways taking.
causing to linger, in a twofold sense, because it kept him
ding or lingering over it daring hours when he should be enjoy -
himself ; and also and especially " lingering." because it kept
i at study and at college during days and months of his youth
en he might hare been already in the world.
An image taken from the bowling-green. So Donne, speaking
' little -in* leading a man to greater: "It is impossible to say
'iere a bowl may lie that is let fall down a hill, though it be let
rer so gently oat of the hand" (Sermons, clui.) — WILLMOTT.
i«-re i» not the ^lightest reference to bum, much less to cross-bins,
i thi* quotation frmn Donne. All he says is, Roll a bowl, or a cheese,
or a stone down a hill, and you do not know where it will stop —
•n idea that is not hinted at in Herbert. A "bias" is an irregu-
larity given to a bowl, or a slope in the ground, both leading to the
tauie, namely, the curved or cross coarse of the bowl. So in drapery.
68 THE TEMPLE.
Now I am here, what Thou wilt do with me 55
None of my books will show :
I reade, and sigh, and wish I were a tree, —
For sure then I should grow
To fruit or shade ; at least some bird would trust
Her houshold to me, and I should be just. 60
Yet, though Thou troublest me, I must be meek ;
In weaknesse must be stout.
WelJ, I will change the service, and go seek
Some other master out.
Ah, my deare God, though I am clean forgot,1 65
Let me not love Thee, if I love Thee not.2
17. Tf EEPENTANCE.
OBJ), I confesse my sin is great ;
Great is my sinne : O, gently treat
With Thy quick3 flow'r Thy moment-
anie4 bloom,
Whose life still pressing
Is one undressing, 5
A steadie'aimiug at a tombe.
to cut on the bias is to cut not straight, bat cross-wise. The succeed-
ing, lines render it probable that here to cm-- Mas is to roll a (bias) |
bowl with a curved course, so as to strike the adversary's bowl side-
ways out of a winning position. Such a stroke would be use!
the player except as taking the other out of his lie
1 In the Life of John Sharp, D.U., Lord Archbishop of York, by
his son, Thomas Shajp, edited by Thmnus New ne (Loud. I ••-••. ii.
itO), we read : " The last words he said wen- those of Mr. Herlii-rt.
' Ah, my dear God, though I am clean forgot,' &c. He had these
;ren in his mouth while he was in health : but would add,
that Mr. Herbert was much dispirited when he wrote them."
2 Cf. 88. " Dulnesse," 11. 27-8 ; 99. " Love Viiknowne," 1. •">!>. Were it
not that in all the MSS. and printed texts this line runs as in our
text, I should have been strongly tempted to read " lose " for the
first " love."
3 Here, as elsewhere, "quick" is used in a double sense, t <
primary one is, rapidly blowjju?. rapidly fleeting, and (secondarily as
it were) in its life.
4 Pickering and later, and'Willmott, misprint " momentary." The
REPENTANCE. 69
Man's age is two honres' work, or three;1
Each day doth round about us see.
Thus are we to delights, but we are all
To sorrows old, 10
If -life be told
From what life feeleth, Adam's fall.
0, let Thy height of mercie, then,
Compassionate short-breathed men ;
Cut me not off for my most foul transgression : 15
I do confesse
My foolishnesse ;
My God, accept of my confession.
Sweeten at length this bitter bowl
Which thou hast pour'd into my soul ; 20
Thy wormwood turn to health, windes to fair
weather :
For if'Thou stay,
I and this day,
As we did rise, we die together.
When Thou for sinne rebukest man, 25
Forthwith he waxeth wo and wan ;
Bitternesse fills our bowels, all our hearts
Pine and decay
And drop away,
And carrie with them th' other parts. 30
But Thou wilt sinne and grief destroy ;
That so the broken bones2 may -joy,
ning is ahont the same, but "n" is Herbert's own spelling in
-3, and in the Williams and Bodleian MS9. Archbishop Leigh-
i nses it and also a kindred form, " presentany " from the Lutin
fsentaneas ; as is momentary from momentanen*.
i.e. brevity of life. In the next line the day is said to see round
rat us, to see oar rise and full (Psalm ciii. 15 ; Job xn. 2). mnch
in 11 1. " The Discharge," Death is said to environ and surround
IT honr.
» Psalm li. 9.
70 THE TEMPLE.
Aud tune together in a well-set song,
Full of His praises
Who dead men raises. 35
Fractures well cur'd make us more strong.
18. f FAITH.
'OBD, how conldst Thou so much ap-
pease
Thy wrath for sirme, as when man's
sight was dimme
And could see little, to regard his ease,
And bring by faith all things to him ?
Hungrie I was, and had no meat : 5
I did conceit a most delicious feast, —
I had it straight, and did as truly eat
As ever did a welcome guest.
* There is a rare outlandish root,1
"Which when I could not get, I thought it here ; 10
That apprehension cur'd so well my foot,
That I can walk to heav'n well neare.
I owed thousands, and much more ;
I did beleeve that I did nothing owe,
And liv'd accordingly ; my creditor 1 5
Beleeves so too, and lets me go.2
Faith makes me any-thing, or all
That I beleeve is in the sacred storie ;
And where sinue placeth me in Adam's fall,
Faith sets me higher in his glorie. 20
1 See longer Notes and Illustrations (t), as before.
3 See the Memoir, as before, for various readings.
FAITH. 71
If I go lower in the book,
What can be lower then the common manger?
Faith puts me there with Him Who sweetly took
Our flesh and frailtie, death and danger.
If blisse had lien in art or strength, z$
None but the wise or strong had gained it ;
Where now by faith all arms are of a length,
One size doth all conditions fit.
A peasant may beleeve as much
As a great clerk, and reach the highest stature : 30
Thus dost Thou make proud knowledge bend and
crouch,
While grace fills up uneven nature.
When creatures had no reall light
Inherent in them, Thou didst make the sunne
Impute a lustre, and allow them bright, 35
And in this shew what Christ hath done.
That which before was darkned clean
With bushie groves, pricking the looker's eie,
Vanisht away when Faith did change the scene ;
And then appear'd a glorious skio. 40
What though my bodie runne to dust ?
Faith cleaves unto it, counting ev'ry grain
With an exact and most particular trust,1
Reserving all for flesh again.
1 See longer Notes and Illustrations (u), as before, for Coleridge
i this.
72 THE TEMPLE.
19. f PRAYER.
RAYER, the Churche's banquet,
Angels' age,1
God's breath in man returning to
his birth,
The soul in paraphrase, heart in pilgrimage,
Tha Christian plummet sounding heav'nand earth ;
Engine against th' Almightie, sinner's towre, 5
Reversed thunder, Christ-side-piercing spear,
The six-daies-world transposing in an houre,'2
A kinde of tune which all things heare and fear ;
Softnesse, and peace, and joy, and love, and blisse,
Exalted manna, gladnesse of the best, 10
Heaven in ordiuarie, man well drest,
The milkie way, the bird of Paradise,
Church-bels beyond the stars heard, the soul's
bloud,
The land of spices, something understood.
20. If THE HOLY COMMUNION.
in rich furniture or fine aray,
Nor in a wedge of gold,
Thou, Who from me wast sold,
To me dost now Thyself convey ;
For so Thou shouldst without me still have been, 5
Leaving within me sinne :
' t. e. that by which angels count their age, prayer being tued •
its fuller sense of prayer mid ]
3 See the Memoir, as before, for various readings.
THE HOLY COMMUNION. 73
But by the way of nourishment and strength,
Thou creep'st into my breast ;
Making Thy way my rest,
And Thy small quantities my length, 10
Which spread their forces into every part,
Meeting Siuue's force and art.
Tet can these not get over to my soul,
Leaping the wall that parts
Our souls and fleshy hearts ; 1 5
But as th* outworks, they may controll
ly rebel flesh, and, carrying Thy name,
Aflright both sinue and shame.
)nely Thy grace, which with these elements comes,
Knoweth the ready way, 20
And hath the privie key,
Op'ning the soul's most subtile1 rooms ;
lile those, to spirits refiu'd, at doore attend
Dispatches from their friend.
Give me my captive soul, or take
My bodie also thither.
Another lift like this will make
Them both to be together.
Before that sinne turn'd flesh to stone, 5
And all our lump to leaven,
A fervent sigh might well have blown
Our innocent earth to heaven.
For sure when Adam did not know
To sinne, or sinne to smother, 10
He might to heav'n from Paradise go,
As from one room t' another.
1 The most fine, delicate, or retired feelings.— WIWJIOTT.
74 THE TEMPLE.
Thou hast restor'd us to this ease
By this Thy heav'nly bloud,
Which I can go to when I please,
And leave th' earth to their food.
21. f ANTIPHON.1
Clio.
ET all the world in ev'ry corner sing
My God and King.
Vers. The heav'us are not too high,
His praise may thither flie ;
The earth is not too low,
His praises there may grow.
Cho. Let all the world in ev'ry corner sing
My God and King.
Vers. The Church with psalms must shout,
No'door can keep them out :
But above all, the heart
Must bear the longest part.
Cho. Let all the world in ev'ry corner sing
My God and King.
i
22. 11 LOVE
' MMORTALL Love, author of tl:
frame,
Sprung from that beauty w1
never fade,
How hath man parcel'd out Thy glorious name,
And thrown it in 2 that dust which Thou hast made,
1 t. e. the chant or sinking of a choir in chnr'-h, in which strain
answers strain. — WIILMOTT. l)r. Mac-donuM h:is UM-I! the word for
title of his charming hook on Kngl. Poets.
» From Williams MS. instead of" on" of i<532-3, and later.
LOVE. 75
While mortall love doth all the title gain ! 5
Which siding with Invention, they together
Bear all the sway, possessing heart and brain —
Thy workmanship — and give Thee share in
neither.
Wit fancies beantie, beautie raiseth wit; 9
The world is theirs, they two play out the game,
Thou standing by: and though Thy glorious
name
Wrought our deliverance from th' infernall pit,
Who sings Thy praise ? Onely a skarf or glove
Doth warm our hands, and make them write of
love.
n.
Emmortall Heat, O let Thy greater flame 1 5
I Attract the lesser to it ; let those fires
[ Which shall consume the world first make it
tame,
And kindle in our hearts such true desires
As may consume our lusts, and make Thee way:
Then shall our hearts pant Thee,1 then shall
our brain 20
All her invention on Thine altar lay,
I And there in hymues send back Thy fire again.
Our eies shall see Thee, which before saw dust —
Dust blown by Wit, till that they both were
blinde :
on shalt recover all Thy goods in kiude, 25
wert disseized 2 by usurping lust :
1 knees shall bow to Thee ; all wits shall rise,
id praise Him Who did make and mend our
eies.
i. e. pant [towards] Thee. * i. e. dispossessed.
" 70
THE TEMPLE.
23. T THE TEMPER.
OW should I praise Thee, Lord? how
should my rymes
Gladly engrave Thy love in steel,
If, what my soul doth feel sometimes,
My soul might ever feel !
Although there were some fourtie heav'ns or
more, 5
Sometimes I peere l above tltem all ;
Sometimes I hardly reach a score,
Sometimes to Hell I fall.
O, rack me not to such a vast extent, '
Those distances belong to Thee ;
The world's too little for Thy tent,
A grave too big for me.
Wilt Thou meet arms with man,2 that Thou dc
stretch
A crumme of dust from heav'n to hell ?
Will great God measure with a wretch ?
Shall he Thy stature spell ?
0, let me, when Thy roof my soul hath hid,
0, let me roost and nestle there ;
Then of a sinner Thou art rid,
And I of hope and fear.
1 " And Hell itself will pass away, And leave her dolorous mansio
to the peering day." (Milton, Ode on Nativity, 1. 1 10).— WlLLMj^
Bee next Note on line Ki. Perhaps the " fourtie heuv'ns or more"
(of 1. 5) is a rough guess at the number wanted for the Ptolen
epicycles.
a The allusion is to the refusal of nobles and gentlemen to " meet"
any but their peers in comb-it. "Wilt Tlmn,"s:iy. !
the conceit is made here curious and complicated in thought l>y tht
reference tot lie stretching Mb? racking — "wilt Thou stretch acrnrrf '
of dust, go that being mode more Thy equal Thou mays! contend will
him?"
THE TEMPER. 77
t take Thy ••ay ; for sure Thy way is best :
Stretch o con tract me, Thy poore debter;
This is bi< tuning of my breast,
To rake the musick better.
ether I fliewith angels, fall with dust, 25
Thy han.8 made both, and I am there ;
Thy powr and love, my love and trust,
Mate one place ev'rywhere.
:4. f THE TEMPER.
'.f cmnot be : where is that mightie joy
Yhich just now took up all my heart?
jord, if Thou must needs use Thy
dart,
Save that and me, or sin for both destroy.
The grosser world stands to Thy word and art ; $
But Thy diviner world of grace
Thou suddenly dost raise and race,1
every day a new Creatour art.
fix Thy chair of grace, that all my powers
tMay also fix their reverence ; 10
For when Thou dost depart from hence,
grow unruly, and sit in Thy bowers.
«r or binde them all to bend to Thee ;
Though elements change, and heaven move,
Let not Thy higher Court remove, 15
But keep a standing Majestie in me.
' The latter ("race") is thus spelled simply on account of its
rhyme with " grace," but it is " raze." The evidence of the context
.1,1. •">, U. 8-10, is clear as to this, and Willmott's explanation in the
place of " race " us " to set out " is a meaning of the verb to " race "
•vtnr-h i* (men judicin) entirely unknown in England. The change of
ipelling is a licence imlnlged in by the old poets under the circum-
stance* of the text. Cf. also 3, " The Sacrifice," 1. 66, " raz'd " and
' raised ;" and our Sir Philip Sidney, Astrophel and Stella, uxvi.
rol. i. p. 25.
78 THE TEMPLE.
25. f JORDAN.1
1HO says that fictions oruly and false
hair
Become a verse ? Is there in truth no
beautie ?
Is all good structure in a winding-s:air ?
May no lines passe, except they do their dutie
Not to a true, but painted chair ? 2
Is it not verse, except enchanted groves
And sudden arbours shadow coarse-spunne lines ?
Must purling 3 streams refresh a lover's loves ?
Must all be vail'd while he that reades divines,
Catching the sense at two removes ?
Shepherds are honest people, let them sing :
Kiddle who list, for me, and pull for prime,4
I envie no man's nightingale or spring ;
Nor let them punish me with loss of rhyme,
Who plainly say, My God, my King.
1 The title " Jordan " given to this and 75 by Herbert, has pnzzled
his critics and even admirers. It seems plain that ho had a double
thought : (a) That he was crossing into the Promised Lund ; (6)
That thereupon and thenceforward Jordan was to be his Helicon-^
the Lord, not the Nine Muses, the source of his inspiration. Nirholai
Murford, in his " Fragmenta Poetica : or Miscellanies of Poetical
Musings, Moral and Divine" (1650) in a verse invocation of tjj
" Most High God " has this parallel : —
" A sacred heat inspires my soul to try
If Verse can give me what base earth deny ;
A true content. Therefore, Lord, I'll think on
Thy Jordan, for my purest Helicon ;
And for bi-forkcd Parnassus, I will set
My fancy on Thy sacred Olivet."
See further on 75, and the Memoir, as before.
9 Comparing this with the preceding poem (1. 9) and with 81.
"The British Church" (1. 1«5), " painted " is here = false, t. e.
false authority or dignity. A " painted " face is false as eom]«ired witf
the natural face. So the "chair" of grace filled by God i^
compared with the " painted chair" of mere love-poets' patl
See also 109, " Church Rents," 1. 1, and 3. "The Pilgrimage," 1
* See my Note (a full one) on this word in edition of
Vanghau, vol i. p. 27."i ; also iv. p.
4 bt»e the longer Notes and Illustrations (r), as before.
79
26. f EMPLOYMENT.
F, as a flowre doth spread and die,
Thou wouldst extend me to some
good,
Before I were by frost's extremitie
Nipt in the bud ;
The sweetnesse and the praise were Thine, 5
But the extension and the room
Which in Thy garland I should fill were mine
At Thy great doom.
For as Thou dost impart Thy grace,
The greater shall our glorie be; 10
The measure of our joyes is in this place,
The stuffe with Thee.
Let me not languish, then, and spend
A life as barren to Thy praise
As is the dust to which that life doth tend, 1 5
But with delaies.1
All things are busie ; onely I
Neither bring bony with the bees,
Nor flowres to make 2 that, nor the husbandrie
To water these. 20
I am no link of Thy great chain,
But all my coinpanie is a weed.3
Lord, place me in Thy consort ; give one strain
To my poore reed.
1 = and spend, hut with delays (only in delays), a life as barren,
fa.
1 This teems to be taken op again in 1. 22.
* See the Metuuir for a tiue adaptation of this in Speed's " Prison
Fit-tie," 1679.
80
THE TEMPLE.
27. TfTHE HOLY SCEIPTURES.
i.
|H Book ! infinite sweetnesse ! let my
heart
Suck ev'ry letter, and a hony gain
Precious for any grief in any part,
To cleare the breast, to mollifie all pain.
Thou art all health, health thriving till it make 5-
A fall eternitie ; thoti art a masse
Of strange delights, where we may wish and take. I
Ladies, look here; this is the thanki'ull glasse,1
That mends the looker's eyes ; this is the well 9
That washes what it shows. Who can indeare
Thy praise too much? thou art heaven's Lieger2 •
here,
Working against the States of death and hell.
Thou art Joye's handsell : heav'nliesflatin thee,3
Subject to ev'ry mounter's bended knee.
Oh that I knew how all thy lights combine,
And the configurations of their glorie !
Seeing not onely how each verse doth shine,
But all the constellations of the stone.
I = the glass that returns with interest or with benefit-
that look into it, i.e. vouchsafed by the looker in.
* •= leaguer or confederate. Willinntt, in l»>X'-3, spells as in our
text, "lici_'cr;" the Williams MS. " I.idger." Wilhnott confound*
Ledger with Leaguer. Leaguer is in Johnson a camp ; but \\
also gives "a confederate," which, however, seems lu he a mo
modern sense from the verb league. Herbert's meaning is
ambassador.
3 Herbert's probable meaning here is that the sphere of heav
mapped out on a plain surface, according to geometrical princip
the next Una being a thought • * t he words 'lies flat,
not otherwise cou^uul, iior connected with it.
WHITSUNDAY. 81
This verse marks that, and both do make {I motion
Unto a third, that ten leaves off doth lie : 20
Then as dispersed herbs do watch l a potion,
These three make up some Christian's destiuie.
Such are thy secrets, which my life makes good,
And comments on thee : for in ev'ry thing
Thy words do finde me out, and parallels bring,
And in another make me understood. 26
Starres are poore books, and oftentimes do
misse ;
This book of starres lights to eternall blisse.
28. t WHITSUNDAY.
ISTEN, sweet Dove, unto my song,
And spread Thy golden wings in
me ;
Hatching my tender heart so long,
Till it get wing, and flie away with Thee.
Where is that fire which once descended 5
On Thy Apostles ? Thou didst then
Keep open house, richly attended,
Feasting all comers by twelve chosen men.
Such glorious gifts Thou didst bestow,
That th' earth did like a heav'n appeare : 10
The starres were coming down to know
If they might mend their wages, and serve here.
1 See longer Notes and Illustrations (u>), as before, on "watch." On
1. 19 Coleridge annotates : " The spiritual unity of the Bible = the
order and connection of orgaiiir forms, in which the unity of life is
shown, though as widely dispersed in the world of the mere sight a*
*the text."
82 THE TEMPLE.
The sunne, which once did shiue alone,
Hnng down his head, and wisht for night,
When he beheld twelve sunnes for one 1 5
Going about the world and giving light.
But since those pipes of gold, which brought
That cordiall water to our ground,
Were cut and martyr'd by the fault
Of those who did themselves through their side
wound, 20
Thou shutt'st the doore, and keep'st within ;
Scarce a good joy creeps through the chink ;
And if the braves l of conqu'ring sinne
Did not excite Thee, we should wholly sink.
Lord, though we change, Thou art the same, 25 j
The same sweet God of love and light:
Restore this day, for Thy great name,
Unto his ancient and miraculous right.
29. f GRACE.
Y stock lies dead, and no increase
Doth my dull husbandrie improve :
0, let Thy graces, without cease
Drop from above !
If still the sunne should hide his face,
Thy house would but a dungeon prove,
Thy works, Night's captives:2 0, let grace
Drop from above !
1 = bravadoes ? i.e. boasting, challenge, or defiance, such as thatc
Goliath. So Lewis calls a similar speech by the Bastard " a brav
(" King John," v. 2).
7 As when the snn is hid all becomes dark, so when the
God's grace is hid His house becomes a dungeon, and His wo
are " captives of Night," bound to darkness ; without the illutnin
of grace, God's service is confinement in a dungeon, and His works, ,
PRAISE. 83
The dew doth ev'ry morning fall ;
And shall the dew out-strip Thy Dove, — 10
The dew, for which grasse cannot call,
Drop from above ?
Death is still working like a mole,
And digs my grave at each remove ;
Let grace work too, and on my soul 15
Drop from above.
Sinne is still hammering my heart
Unto a hardnesse void of love :
Let suppling grace, to crosse his art,
Drop from above. ao
0, come ; for Thou dost know the way :
Or if to me Thou wilt not move,
Remove me where I need not say,
Drop from above.
30. f PEAISE.
0 write a verse or two is all the praise
That I can raise :
Mend my estate in any wayes,
Thou shalt have more.
I go to church : help me to wings, and I 5
Will thither flie :
Or if I mount unto the skie,
I will do more.
Man is all weaknesse ; there is no such thing
As prince or king : 10
His arm is short ; yet with a sling
He may do more.
instead of being seen of men in their glorious goodness, appear a*
bond-slaves to darkness and despair. The thought is the reverse ot
their being lights shining in dark places. Cf. Hamlet in his de-
spondency in ha contemplation of Nature.
84 THE TEMPLE.
A herb distill'd ' and drunk may dwell next doore,
On the same floore,
To a brave soul .- exalt the poore, 15
They can do more.
0, raise me, then : poore bees, that work all day,
Sting my delay,
Who have a work as well as they,
And much, much more. 20
31. T AFFLICTION.
pILL me not ev'ry day,
Thou Lord of life ; since Thy one death
forme
Is more than all my deaths can be,
Though I in broken pay 2
Die over each houre of Methusalem's stay. 5
If all men's tears were let
Into one common sewer, sea, and brine,
What were they all compar'd to Thine ?
Wherein, if they were set,
They would discolour 3 Thy most bloudy sweat. 10
Thou art my grief alone,
Thou, Lord, conceal it not : and as Thou art
All my delight, so all my smart :
Thy crosse took up in one,
By way of imprest,4 all my future mone.
1 The allusion is to the cordials in vogue and distilled from various
herbs. Grace is like such a cordial, lifting the poor soul to the
height of the soul rich in comfort.
1 = paying the debt of death in fragmentary instalments.
3 i. e. take somewhat from the brightness and fulness of the colour.
* A loan, or money in advance, given to the " imprest'" soldier "r
sailor as binding him to his engagement. It has been derived from
French prest, pret, ready ; the man being supposed to be ready when
called upon ; and " prest " is one form of the KnglUh word ; but the
better derivation is prester, emprester, i.e. jjr^tcr.
85
32. IT MATTEXS.1
CANNOT ope mine eyes,
But Thou art ready there to catch
My morning soul and sacrifice :
Then we must needs for that day make
a match.
My God, what is a heart ?
Silver, or gold, or precious stone,
Or starre, or rainbow, or a part
Of all these things, or all of them in one ?
My God, what is a heart,
That Thou shouldst it so eye and wooe, 10
Powring upon it all Thy art,
As if Thou hadst nothing els to do ?
Indeed, man's whole estate
Amounts,2 and richly, to serve Thee :
He did not heau'n and earth create, 15
fet studies them, not Him by Whom they be.
Teach me Thy love to know ;
That this new light, which now I see,
May both the work and workman show ;
icn by a sunne-beam I will climb to Thee.3 zo
I = morning worship.
* " Amounts (and richly) to serve Thee." This is a passage made
iffii-ult by Herbert's elliptical mode of expressing himself. As I take
it, it U somewhat of a reversal of Hamlet's thought in his soliloquy
(ii. 2). What is a heart f Dust and corruption. It is true indeed
man's whole estate, according to his original creation, sums itself in
this, the serving Thee, and richly was it so made — how noble in
reason, how infinite in faculty=capable of admiring Thee and reaching
to the First Great Cause through contemplation of himself and Thy
works : yet though he created not the heavens, he studies them, but
not Thee, the Creator of them, and of himself.
S Cf. Parentalia : iii. Fac radios, Ac. (U. 9-10).
THE TEMPLE.
33. 1T SINNE.
THAT I could sinne once see !
We paint the devil foul,1 yet he
Hath some good in him, all agree :
Sinne is flat opposite to th' Almighty,
seeing
It wants the good of vertue and of being. 5
But God more care of us hath had ;
If apparitions make us sad,2
By sight of sinne we should grow mad.
Yet as in sleep we see foul death, and live,
So devils are our sinnes in perspective.3
1 Cf. Burns' " Address to the Deil :"
" But fare yon weel, auld Nickie-ben !
O wad ye tak a thought an" men' !
Ye aiblins might — I dinna ken —
Still hae a stake :
I'm wae to think upo" you den,
Ev'n for your sake."
Herbert's thought (see 1. 5) is that in so far as they had life and intel-
ligence, both direct gilts of the Almighty, and requiring His sustain-
ing power, in so far there is some goodness in them. The problem
came up later in John Howe as he was defended by Andrew Man ell
(our edition of Murvell's Works, vol. iv. pp. 168-349).
2 = serious.
3 So in 1032-3 ; Bodleian and Williams' MSS. The modern reprint
of "prospective" originated in 1674edition. Healludt-
where the drawing or painting seems hap-hazard cont'u-iun till
looked at at a particular angle or in a particular-shaped mirror, when
it is resolved into a landscape or portrait. So devils are not so
hideous as sins, but confused resemblances of what, if seen as they
are, would drive us mad. Perhaps "perspective" also hints that
" devils " are just what bad men will ultimately resemble in fate and (
character — this sense led probably to the reading " prospective."
EVEN-SONG. 87
34. f EVEN-SONG.
LEST be the God of love,
Who gave me eyes, and light, and
power this day,
Both to be busie and to play :
But much more blest be God above,
Who gave me sight alone, 5
Which to Himself He did denie :
For when He sees my waies, I die ;
But I have got His Sonne, and He hath none.
What have I brought thee home
For this Thy love ? have 1 discharg'd the debt 10
Which this daye's favour did beget ?
I ranne ; but all I brought was fome.
Thy diet, care, and cost
Do end in bubbles, balls of winde ;
Of winde to Thee whom I have crost, 1 5
But balls of wilde-fire to my troubled minde,
Yet still Thou goest on,
And now with darknesse closest wearie eyes,
Saying to man, • It doth suffice ;
Henceforth repose, your work is done.' 20
Thus in Thy ebony box
Thou dost inclose us, till the day
Put our amendment in our way,
And give new wheels to our disorder'd clocks.
I muse which shows more love, 25
The day or night; that is the gale, this th' harbour;
That is the walk, and this the arbour ; .
Or that the garden, this the grove.
88 THE TEMPLE.
My God, Thou art all love :
Not one poore minute 'scapes Thy breast, 30
But brings a favour from above ;
And in this love, more then in bed, I rest.
CHUECH-MONUMENTS.
,HILE that my soul repairs to her de-
votion,
Here I intombe my flesh, that it be-
times
May take acquaintance of this heap of dust,
To which the blast of Death's incessant motion,
Fed with the exhalation Of our crimes, 5
Drives all at last. Therefore I gladly trust
My bodie to this school, that it may learn
To spell his elements, and finde his birth
Written in dustie heraldrie and lines ;
Which dissolution sure doth best discern, 10
Comparing dust with dust, and earth with earth.
These laugh at jeat and marble, put for signes, •
To sever the good fellowship of dust,
And spoil the meeting : what shall point out
them,
When they shall bow, and kneel, and fall down
flat 15
To kisse those heaps which now they have in
trust?
Deare flesh, while I do pray, learn here thy
stemme
•d true descent, that, when thou shalt grow fat,
CHURCH MUSICK. 89
And wanton in thy cravings, thou,mayst know
That flesh is but the glasse which holds the dust1
That measures all our time ; which also shall 21
Be crumbled into dust. Mark here below
How tame these ashes are, how free from lust, —
That thou mayst fit thyself against thy fall.
36. f CHURCH MUSICK
j|WEETEST of sweets, I thank you:
when displeasure
Did through my bodie wound my
minde,
You took me thence, and in your house of pleasure
A daintie lodging me assign'd.
Now I in you without a bodie move, 5
Rising and falling with your wings ;
We both together sweetly live and love,
Yet say sometimes, " God help poore kings !"
Comfort, I'le die ; for if you poste from me,
Sure I shall do so, arid much more; 10
But if I travell in your companie,
You know the way to heaven's doore.
37. 11 CHURCH LOCK AND KEY.
KNOW it is my sinne which locks
Thine eares
And bindes Thy liamls,
Out-crying my requests, drowning
my tears,
Or else the chilnesse of my faint demands.
1 The thought drawn from the hour-glass, often sculptured on these
monument*.
90 THE TEMPLE.
But as cold hands are angrie with the fire, 5
And mend it still,
So I do lay the want of my desire
Not on my siiines, or coldnesse, but Thy will.
Yet heare, 0 God, onely for His bloud's sake,
Which pleads for me: 10
For though sinnes plead too, yet, like stones,1
they make
His bloud's sweet current much more loud to be.
38. IT THE CHURCH FLOORE.
ARK you the floore ? that square and
speckled stone,
Which looks so firm and strong,
Is PATIENCE :
And th' other black and grave, wherewith each one
Is checker'd all along,
HUMILITIE :
The gentle rising, which on either hand
Leads to the quire above,
Is CONFIDENCE:
But the sweet cement, which in one sure band
Ties the whole frame, is LOVE
And CHAHITIE.
1 = stones in a stream check and canse the stream to ' i
loader or murmur musically.
THE WINDOWS. 91
Hither sometimes Siiine steals, and stains
The marble's neat ' and curious veins ;
But all is cleansed when the marble weeps.
Sometimes Death, puffing at the doore,
Blows all the dust about the floore ; 5
But while he thinks to spoil the room, he sweeps.
Blest be the Architect Whose art
Could build so strong in a weak heart !
39. 1T THE WINDOWS.
OED, how can man preach Thy eternall
word?
He is a brittle crazie glasse ;
Yet in Thy temple Thou dost him
afford
This glorious and transcendent place,
To be a window through Thy grace. 5
But when Thou dost anneal 2 in glasse Thy storie,
Making Thy life to shine within
The holy preachers, then the light and glorie
More rev'rend grows, and more doth win ;
Which else shows watrish, bleak, and thin. 10
Doctrine and life, colours and light, in one
When they combine and mingle, bring
A strong regard and aw ; but speech alone
Doth vanish like a flaring thing,
And in the eare, not conscience, ring. 15
1 = nice, delicate.
J = annealing is heating glass, th»t the colours may be fixed.—
92
THE TEMPLE.
40. IT TRINITIE SUNDAY.
OED, Who hast form'd me out of mud,
And hast redeem'd me through
Thy bloud,
And Banctifi'd me to do good,
Purge all my sinnes done heretofore ;
For I confesse my heavie score,
And I will strive to sinne no more.
Enrich my heart, mouth, hands in me,
With faith, with hope, with charitie,
That I may runne, rise, rest with Thee.
41. f CONTENT.
EACE, mutt'ring thoughts, and do not
grudge to keep
Within the walls of your own breast :
Who cannot on his own bed sweetly
sleep,
Can on another's hardly rest.
Gad not abroad at ev'ry quest 1 and call 5 ]
Of an untrained hope or passion ;
To court each place or fortune that doth fall
Is wantonnesse in contemplation.
' Search, or act of searching. Milton uses the word in the " Ar- i
cades " :—
" Fair silver-buskin'd Nymphs as great and good :
I know this <i>ii-at of yours."
WILLMOTT. Rather asking, seeking, f. e. questing or requesting by
another — here by each untrained hope or puseion — of the hrlp or
companionship of such person.
CONTENT. 93
ilark how the fire in flint doth quiet lie,
Content and warm t' it self alone ; 10
{Jut when it would appeare to others' eye,
Without a knock it never shone.
Give me the pliant minde, whose gentle measure
Complies and suits with all estates ;
Which can let loose to a crown,1 and yet with
pleasure 1 5
Take up within a cloister's gates.
This soul doth span the world, and hang content
From either pole unto the centre ;
Where in each room of the well-furnisht tent
He lies warm, and without adventure. ^o
The brags of life are but a nine-dayes wonder ;
And after death the fumes that spring
From private bodies make as big a thunder
As those which rise from a huge king.
Onely thy chronicle is lost: and yet 15
Better by worms be all once spent
Then to have hellish moths still gnaw and fret
Thy name in books which may not rent.
When all thy deeds, whose brunt thou feel'st alone,
Are chaw'd by others' pens and tongue, 30
And as their wit is, their digestion,
Thy nourisht fame is weak or strong,
Then cease discoursing, soul ; till thine own ground ;
Do not thyself or friends importune :
/He that by seeking hath himself once found, 35
Hath ever found a happie fortune.
1 Probably a reference to Charles V., whose story has been recently
effectively told by Sir William 8. Maxwell, of Keir. Though the
primary sense of the perhaps intentionally ambiguous phrase, " let
loose," is different from the historical reference, antt refers to the
" letting loose" — according to the technical phrase in an-hery — of an
arrow (at any given mark), that is, which can aim at a crown, yet
Ukes np with a cloister. Cf. use of «• loose " in " The Church Porch,"
vii. 5 aud note.
94
TUB TEMPLE.
42. THE QUIDDITIE.1
T God, a verse is not a crown,
No point of honour, or gay suit,
No hawk, or banquet, or renown,
Nor a good sword, nor yet a lute.
It cannot vault, or dance, or play,
It never was in France or Spain,
Nor can it entertain the day
With a great stable or demain.
It is no office, art, or news,
Nor the Exchange, or busie hall :
But it is that which, while I use,
I am with Thee : and "Mosi TAKE ALL."2
43. f HUMILITIE.
SAW the Yertues sitting hand in hand
In sev'rall ranks upon an azure throne,
Where all the beasts and fowls, by
their command,
Presented tokens of submission :
Humilitie, who sat the lowest there, 5
To execute their call,
When by the beasts the presents tendred were, .
Gave them about to all.
1 Originally a school term for the nature or essence of a thing;
often used as a synonyme for a quip or quirk. — WILLMOTT. See t li
Memoir, as before, for various readings.
* This -is written large in the Williams MS. It has the sound
some proverb ; but I do not see its application here. Some mi-pr
" must." Is the saying founded on St. Mark iv. 2f> ? and Herher
meaning i " Do Thou, Who art ' Most ' [and Who already j
the most of me] take all of me " ?
HUMILITIE. 95
The angrie Lion did present his paw,
"\Yhich by consent was giv'n to Mansnetude ; 10
The fearful Hare her eares, which by their law
Humilitie did reach to Fortitude ;
The jealous Turkic brought his corall -chain,1
That went to Temperance ;
On Justice was bestow'd the Foxe's brain, 15
Kill'd in the way by chance.
^ At length the Crow, bringing the Peacock's
plume—
', For he would not — as they beheld the grace
Of that brave gift, each one began to fume,
And challenge it, as proper to his place, 20
Till they fell out ; which when the beasts espied,
They leapt upon the throne ;
And if the Fox had liv'd to rule their side,
They had depos'd each one.
Humilitie, who held the plume, at this 25
Did weep so fast, that the tears trickling down
Spoil'd all the train : then saying, ' Here it is
For which ye wrangle,' made them turn their
frown
Against the beasts : so joyntly bandying,2
They drive them soon away; 30
And then amerc'd them, double gifts to bring
At the next session-day.
1 The conceit here is somewhat obscure. The calling the red ruff
of a turkey a " coral chain " would seem to indicate some property
common to both. In Lovell's " History of Animals and Minerals,"it is
MM of the turkey : " The flesh is very pleasant and dainty ....
recovereth strength, nourUheth plentifully, kiudleth Inst, an 1 aereeth
with every temper and complexion, except too hot or troubled with
rheumes and gnuts." And among the various virtues of "coral," it
Miaid, "it exhilarates the heart .... also it maketh a man merry;
bat the black maketh melancholy."
* See the longer Notes and Illustrations (x), as before.
90 THE TEMPLE.
44. H FKAILTIE.
!OED, in my silence how do I despise
What upon trust
Is styled honour, riches, or fair eyes,
But is fair dust !
I surname them guilded clay, 5
Deare earth, fine grasse or hay ;
In all, I think my foot doth ever tread
Upon their head.
.But when I view abroad both regiments,
The world's and Thine, — 10
Thine clad with simplenesse and sad events ;
The other fine,
Full of glorie and gay weeds,
Brave language, braver deeds, —
That which was dust before doth quickly rise, 15
And prick mine eyes.
0, brook not this, lest if what even now
My foot did tread J
Affront those joyes wherewith Thou didst endow ' i
And long since wed zo A
My poore soul, ev'n sick of love, —
It may a Babel prove,
Commodious to conquer heav'n and Thee,
Planted in me.
CONSTANCIE.
45. IT CONSTANCIE.1
HO is the honest man P 2
He that doth still and strongly good
pursue ;
To God, his neighbour, and himself
most true ;
Whom neither force nor fawning can
Uupinne, or wrench from giving all their due. 5
Whose honestie is not
So loose or easie, that a ruffling winde
Can blow away, or glitt'ring look it blinde ;
Who rides his sure and even trot,
While the world now rides by, now lags behiude. 10
Who, when great trials come,
Nor seeks nor shuunes them, but doth calmly stay,
Till he the thing and the example weigh :
All being brought into a summe,
What place or person calls for he doth pay. 15
Whom none can work or wooe
To use in any thing a trick or sleight,
For above all things he abhorres deceit ;
His words and works and fashion too
[ i All of a piece, and all are cleare and straight. 20
1 See Psalm xv.
1 The original of this Terse-portrait, vivid and memorable as any in
Clarendon, was Sir John Danvers, the Poet's stepfather : and Her-
bert's estimate may well outweigh the verdict of even Clarendon, and
mut-h more of later ultra-royalist writers. In the dedication of
" The Standard of Banality," by Philo-Deca?ns ( 1647) to Sir John
Danvers there is the following passage : — " Lighting casnully on the
'> poems of Mr. George Herbert, lately deceased (whose pious life and
1 1 death have converted me to a full belief that there is a St. George),
1 and therein perusing the description of a * constant man,' it directed
my thoughts nnto yourself, having heard that the author in hi.- life-
time had therein designed no other title than your character in thut
' description."
THE TEMPLE.
Who never melts or thaws
At close tentations : when the day is done,
His goodnesse sets not, but in dark can runue :
The sunne to others writeth laws,
And is their vertue, Vertue is his suune. 35
"Who, when he is to treat
With sick folks, women, those whom passions sway,
Allows for that, and keeps his constant way;
Whom others' faults do not defeat,
But though men fail him, yet his part doth play. 30
Whom nothing can procure,- .
When the wide world runnes bias l from his will,-
To writhe 2 his limbs, and share, not mend, the ill.-
This is the Mark-man,3 safe and sure,
Who still is right, and prayes to be so still. 35
I
46. f AFFLICTION.
[ Y heart did heave, and there came forth
• 0 God !'
By that I knew that Thou wast in the i
grief,
To guide and govern it to my relief,
Making a scepter of the rod :
Hadst Thou not had Thy part,
Sure the unruly sigh had broke my heart.
1 See Note on " bias," p. 67.
7 = inclining, crooked. The metaphor is taken from the stran
wild gestures o? bowlers when they would, as it were, make a bowl
with themselves, and influence its motions by their own. An old dr
ing illustrating this is given in Strutt's " Sports," and the same i
be seen in bowlers and curlers at the present day. There is i
obscurity in the expression and some confusion in the though
must be expected in one so fond of far-fetched conceits. Bi
general meaning seems to be, that if the adversary's bowl, the i
runs bias from the mark, he does not follow it and strive, as it •
to make it go more bias for his own profit. This is intimated 1
word " share."
3 Modernly misprinted "marksman." I adhere to 1632-3 text one
THE STARRE. 89
But since Thy breath gave me both life and shape,
Thou know'st my tallies;1 aud when there's assign'd
So much breath to a sigh, what's then behinde :
Or if some yeares with it escape, 10
The sigh 2 then onely is
A gale to bring me sooner to my blisse.
Thy life on earth was grief, and Thou art still
Constant unto it, making it to be
A point of honour now to grieve in me, 1 5
And in Thy members suffer ill.
They who lament one crosse,
Thou dying daily, praise Thee to Thy losse.3
47. 11 THE STAERE
RIGHT spark, shot from a brighter
place,
Where beams surround my Saviour's
face,
Canst thou be any where
So well as there ?
onward; albeit " mark-man " is just the old form of " marksman "
Curiously, no old dictionary gives either the one or the other; but
Richardson says "mark-man or marksman," and gives an example
of the former from " Romeo and Juliet" (i. 1), where the earlier edi-
tions read " mark-man " ( tto. 1599 ; " mark-man," 4to. 1597): but the
folios 3 and 4 alter it to " marksman."
1 i.e. score or reckoning. " Thou knowest the number of my days,
and what each is." A tally was a stick, cut to agree in shape with
> another stick, for the purpose of keeping accounts.
1 Referring to the popular belief that the strength is impaired by
sighing : so Shakespeare (" Hamlet," iv. 7) : —
" And then this should is like a spendthrift sigh,
That hurts by easing." — WILLMOTT.
* — they who lament that Thou for our sins didst once suffer.on
the Cn«a, praise Thee insufficiently ; for Thou mokest our grieis
Thine, and so diest daily.
100 THE TEMPLE.
Yet if thou wilt from thence depart, 5
Take a bad lodging in my heart ;
For thou canst make a debter,
And make it better.
First with thy fire-work burn to dust
Folly, and worse then folly, lust : 10
Then with thy light refine,
And make it shine.
So, disengag'd from sinne and sicknesse,
Touch it with thy celestial quicknesse,
That it may hang and move 1 5
After thy love.
Then with our trinitie, of light,
Motion, and heat, let's take our flight
Unto the place l where thou
Before did'st bow. 20
Get me a standing there, and place,
Among the beams which crown the face
Of Him Who dy'd to part
Sinne and my heart ;
That so among the rest I may 25
Glitter, and curie, and winde as they:
That winding is their fashion
Of adoration.
Sure thou wilt joy by gaining me
To flie home, like a laden bee, 30*1
Unto that hive of beams
And garland-streams.
1 Not, as might at first be supposed, Bethlehem, but its former
place in heaven; 11. 1, 2, comparc-d with 11. 21-4 and 11. 2".
and winding in their circuits), aud 11. 29-32 (home, hive ui
garland-streams).
SUNDAY.
.03
48. H SUNDAY.1
DAY most calm, most bright,
The fruit of this, the next world's bud,
Th' indorsement of supreme delight,
Writ by a friend, and with His bloud ;
The couch of Time, Care's balm and bay : 5
The week were dark but for thy light ;
Thy torch doth show the way.
The other dayes and thou
Make up one man, whose face thou art,
Knocking at heaven with thy brow : 10
The worky-daies are the back-part ;
The burden of the week lies there,
Making the whole to stoup and bow,
Till thy release appeare.2
Man had straight forward gone 1 5
To endlesse death ; but thou dost pull
And turn us round to look on one
Whom, if we were not very dull,
We could not choose but look on still,
Since there is no place so alone 20
The which He doth not fill.
Sundaies the pillars are
On which heav'n's palace arched lies ;
The other dayes fill up the spare
And hollow room with vanities : 25
They are the fruitfull beds and borders
In God's rich garden ; that is bare
Which parts their ranks and orders.
1 See the Memoir, as before, for Various Readings.
* = the release given by thee.
IQQ THE TEMPLE.
The Sundaies of man's life,
Thredded together on Time's string, 30
Make bracelets to adorn the wife
Of the eternall glorious King :
On Sunday heaven's gate stands ope ;
Blessings are plentifull and rife,
More plentifull then hope. 35
This day my Saviour rose,
And did inclose this light for His ;
That, as each beast his manger knows,
Man might not of his fodder misse :
Christ hath took in this piece of ground, 40
And made a garden there for those
Who want herbs for their wound.
The rest of our creation
Our great Redeemer did remove
With the same shake which at His passion 45
Did th' earth and all things with it move.
As Samson bore the doores away,
Christ's hands, though nail'd, wrought our salva-
tion,
And did unhinge that day.1
The brightnesse of that day
We sullied by our foul ofience :
Wherefore that robe we cast away,
Having a new at His expense,
Whose drops of bloud paid the full price
That was requir'd to make us gay, 55
And fit for Paradise.
Thou art a day of mirth :
And where the week-dayes trail on ground,
Thy flight is higher, as thy birth.
0, let me take thee at the bound, 60
* Cf. " Passio Discerpta," xviii.; Terra Motus.
AVARICE. 103
Leaping with thee from sev'n to sev'n,
Till that we both, being toss'd from earth,
Flie hand in hand to heav'n ! 1
49. f AVAEICE.
ONEY, thou bane of blisse and source
of wo,
Whence com'st thou, that thou art
so fresh and fine ?
I know thy parentage is base and low, —
Man found thee poore and dirtie in a mine.
Surely thou didst so little contribute
To this great kingdome, which thou now hast
got,
That he was fain, when thou wert destitute,
To digge thee out of thy dark cave and grot.
Then forcing thee, by fire he made thee bright :
Nay, thou hast got the face of man ; for we
Have with our stamp and seal transferred our
right ;
Thou art the man, and man but drosse to thee.
Man calleth thee his wealth, who made thee rich ;
And while he digs out thee, falls in the ditch.
50. ANA \™l\ GRAM.
OW well her name an ' Army' doth
present,
In whom the ' Lord of Hosts ' did
pitch His tent !
1 Bee the Memoir, as before, for Leighton's reminiscences of this
poem.
104 THE TEMPLE.
51. f TO ALL ANGELS AND SAINTS.
I H glorious spirits, who, after all your
bauds,1
See the smooth face of God, without
a frown
Or strict commands ;
Where ev'ry one is king, and hath his crown,
If not upon his head, yet in his hands ; 2 5
Not out of envie or maliciousnesse
Do I forbear to crave your speciall aid :
I would addresse
My vows to thee most gladly, blessed Maid,
And Mother of my God, in my distresse : 10
Thou art the holy mine whence came the gold,
The great restorative 3 for all decay
In young and old ;
Thou art the cabinet where the Jewell lay ;
Chiefly to thee would I my soul unfold. 15
But now, alas, I dare not; for my4 King,
Whom we do all joyntly adore and praise,
Bids no such thing ;
And where His pleasure no injunction layes —
'Tis your own case — ye never move a wing. 20
1 If this means after your bonds, it can apply only to saints, and
not to augels. Probably Herbert therefore means, according to all
ycmr orders of precedency ; the nine orders of angels, of whom sera- S
phim are nighest the throne and Presence, and among saints —
apostle*, prophets, martyrs, etc.
'* Imagery from Revelations, and the ceremonial of vassal princes
doing fealty to their feudal superior; tbe kings in the court of the
King of kings.
3 Gold was considered a strong restorative medicine. See Note in
my edition of Dean Donne's Poems, vol. i. p. 19§,
4 Usually " our," i.e. our common King — yours as well as mine- -of
\v_uin we are fellow-servants (Rev. xxii. 9). But I have preferred
EMPLOYMENT. 105
All worship is prerogative, and a flower
Of His rich crown from Whom lyes no appeal
At the last houre :
Therefore we dare not from His garland steal,
To make a posie for inferioor power. 25
Although, then, others court you, if ye know
What's done on Earth, we shall not fare the worse
Who do not so ;
Since we are ever ready to disburse,
If any one our Master's hand can show. 30
52. IF EMPLOYMENT.
E that is weary, let him sit ;
My soul would stirre
And trade in courtesies and wit,
Quitting the furre
To cold complexions l needing it. 5
Man is no starre, but a quick coal
Of mortall fire :
Who blows it not, nor doth controll
A faint desire,
Lets his own ashes choke his soul. 10
When th' elements2 did for place contest
With Him Whose will
Ordain'd the highest to be best,
The earth sate still,
And by the others is opprest. 1 5
"my " from the Williams MS. as giving us one of the all too r»re per-
sonal references found in Herbert— jn*t as one prizes infinitely Cow-
per's " There hiree I, Though vile as he." beyond the later unautho-
rized generalization, "There may I," in the priceless hymn, •• There
N a fountain filled -vith blood."
' See preumis Note on " The Church Pon-h," »t. xxxvi. 1. 1.
1 See Note* on the " elements" in my editions of Southwell and
Donne.
106 THE TEMPLE.
Life is a businesse, not good-cheer ;
Ever in warres.
The sunne still shineth there or here
Whereas the starres
Watch l an advantage to appeare.
Oh that I were an orenge-tree,2
That busie plant !
Then should I ever laden be,
And never want
Some fruit for him that dressed me.
But we are still too young or old ;
The man is gone
Before we do our wares unfold ;
So we freez on,
Until the grave increase our cold.
30
53. 1T DENIALL.
HEN my devotions could not pierce
Thy silent eares,
Then was my heart broken, as was
my verse ;
My breast was full of fears
And disorder ; 5
My bent thoughts, like a brittle bow,
Did flie asunder ;
Each took his way ; some would to pleasures go,
Some to the warres and thunder
Of alarms.
1 See previous Note on " w atch " in " Holy Scriptures,"
I. 21.
'J Because it has both blossoms and fruit on it at one and the same
time. See the Memoir, as before, for Various Readings, etc., 11.
21-5.
CHRISTMAS. 1"7
As good go any where, they say,
As to benumme
Both knees and heart in crying night and day,
' Come, come, my God, 0 come ! '
But no hearing. 15
0 that Thou shouldst give dust a tongue
To crie to Thee,
And then not hear it crying ! All day long
My heart was in my knee,
But no hearing. ^o
Therefore my soul lay out of sight,
TJntun'd, unstrung ;
My feeble spirit, unable to look right,
Like a nipt blossome, hung
Discontented. 25
O, cheer and tune my heartlesse breast,
Deferre no time ;
That so Thy favours granting my request,
They and my soule may chime,1
And mend my ryme. 30
54. 1T CHRISTMAS.
/LL after pleasures as I rid one day,
My horse and I, both tir'd, bodie
and minde,
With full crie of affections, quite
astray,
I took up in the next inne I could finde.
1 Then his verse would not be broken, nor his thoughts fly asunder,
lem-e, " sonle " from the Williams MS. U deeper and better than
' miude " of 1632-3 onward.
108 THE TEMPLE.
There when I came, whom found I but my deare, 5
My dearest Lord, expecting till the grief
Of pleasures brought me to Him, readie there
To be all passengers' most sweet relief.
O Thou, Whose glorious yet contracted light,
Wrapt in Night's man tie, stole into a manger, 10
Since my dark soul and brutish, is Thy right,
To man, of all beasts,1 be not Thou a stranger :
Furnish and deck my soul, that Thou maysthave
A better lodging than a rack or grave.
The shepherds sing ; and shall I silent be ?
My God, no hymne for Thee ?
My soul's a shepherd too ; a flock it feeds
Of thoughts and words and deeds :2
The pasture is Thy Word; the streams Thy grace, 5
Enriching all the place.
Shepherd and flock shall sing, and all my powers
Out-sing the daylight houres ;
Then we will chide the Sunne for letting Night
Take up his place and right :
We sing one common Lord ; wherefore he shoulc
Himself the candle hold.3
1 The allusion is to the " beasts" in the stable of Bethlehem.
for a remarkable parallel from Sir John Beaumont, the Memoir, ;
before.
* •= not of other goals.
3 There is some obscurity here. The context seems to show 1
" he should" (1. 11) refers to the sun, spoken of before, and include
in " we "— I (Herbert) on earth, and the sun in his sphere :
lore "he should" not tire and let night usurp his place, but siil'
i-o:itiiine to hold a candle. The previous "chide -(1.9) and the whole
sense of the after-lines prove this. The obscurity, rather than diffi- I
UNGRATEFULNESS. 109
I will go searching till I finde a sunne
Shall stay till we have done ;
A willing shiner, that shall shine as gladly 1 5
As frost-nipt sunnes look sadly :
Then we will sing, and shine all our own day,
And one another pay :
His beams shall cheer my breast, and both so twine,
Till ev'u His beams sing, and my music shine. *o
55. IT UNGRATEFULNESSE
!ORD, with what bountie and rare
clemencie
Hast Thou redeem'd us from the
grave!
If Thou hadst let us runne,
Gladly had man ador'd the sunne,
And thought his god most brave, 5
Where now we shall be better gods then he.
Thou hast but two rare cabinets full of treasure,
The Trinitie and Incarnation ;
Thou hast unlockt them both,
And made them jewels to betroth 10
The work of Thy creation
Unto Thyself in everlasting pleasure.
cnlty, arises from Herbert's doing what was very common in writing
then, and is very common in conversation now, allowing the noon of
the pronoun to be discovered among two or three by the sense. In
all our early Poets examples abound of two pronouns of the same
person, number, and gender, referring, one to one antecedent noon,
and the other to another ; and such is also done in ordinary speech,
though grammarians now object to it in composition. From mis-
understanding the passage very absurd punctuations have been
ragguted (see " Notes and Queries," 3rd Series, v. 70).
110
THE TEMPLE.
The statelier cabinet is the Trinitie,
Whose sparkling light access denies :
Therefore Thou dost not show
This fully to us till death blow
The dust into our eyes ;
For by that powder1 Thou wilt make us see.
But all Thy sweets are packt up in the other ;
Thy mercies thither flock and flow,
That as the first affrights,
This may allure us with delights ;
Because this box2 we know,
For we have all of us just such another.
But man is close, reserv'd, and dark to Thee ;
When Thou denaandest but a heart,
He cavils instantly :
In his poore cabinet of bone
Sinnes have their box apart,
Defrauding Thee, Who gavest two for one.
30
If SIGHS AND GRONES.
DO not use me
Aftermy sinnes ! look not on my deser
But on Thy glorie ; then Thou wilt re-
form,
And not refuse me ; for Thou onely art
The mightie God, but I a sillie worm :
O, do not bruise me !
1 This may be by way of miraculous contrast with the ordin«
effect of dust so blown into the eyes ; but it may refer to the blov"
lik
as these.
» The Bodleian MS. " bone."
THE WORLD. Ill
0, do not urge me ;
For what account can Thy ill steward make ?
I have abus'd Thy flock, destroy'd Thy woods,
Suckt all Thy magazens ; my head did ake, 10
Till it found out how to consume Thy goods :
0, do not scourge me !
O, do not blinde me !
I have deserv'd that an Egyptian night
Should thicken all my powers, because my lust 1 5
Hath still sow'd fig-leaves to exclude Thy light ;
But I am frailtie, and already dust :
0, do not grinde me !
O, do not fill me
With the turn'd1 viall of Thy bitter wrath ! 20
For Thou hast other vessels full of blood,
A part whereof my Saviour empti'd hath,
Ev'n unto death : since He died for my good,
O, do not kill me !
But O, reprieve me ! 25
For Thou hast life and death at Thy command ;
Thou art both Judge and Saviour, feast and rod,
Cordiall and corrosive : put not Thy hand
Into the bitter box ; but, O my God,
My God, relieve me ! 30
57. fl THE WORLD.
! 0 VE built a stately house, where For-
tune came ;
And spinning phansies, she was heard
to say
That her fine cobwebs did support the frame,
1 = upturned, that the dregs maybe drunk. The word " fill"
•hows this is the allusion.
llli THE TEMPLE.
Whrrras they were supported by the same ;
But Wisdome quickly swept them all away. 5
Then Pleasure came, who, liking not the fashion,
Began to make balcones,1 terraces,
Till she had weakeu'd all by alteration ;
But rev'rend laws, and many a proclamation,
Reformed all at length with menaces. 10
Then enter'd Sinne, and with that sycomore 2
Whose leaves first sheltred man from drought and
dew,
Working and winding slily evermore,
The inward walls and sommers3 cleft and tore;
But Grace shor'd4 these, and cut that as it grew. 1 5
Then Sinne combin'd with Death in a firm band
To rase the building to the very floore :
Which they effected, none could them with-
stand ;
But Love took Grace and Glorie by the hand,5
And built a braver palace then before.
1 The old, and not many years back the usual, pronunciation of
" balconies."
2 The sycamore fig, supposed by some to have been the " fig" men-
tioned early in Genesis. The Septuagint is <f>uXXa s%ne>K,and the Hr brew
is different from that forsycamore. The latter was commonly n
building in Palestine, as may be seen by the references, and it was
a large shady tree. Under one the Holy Family is traditional! \
to have rested in Egypt (_ which is still shown there). Could the text
refer to a belief that it served Adam and Eve as a shelter? or that
they built their first hut or booth with it ?
"landis titnlirjue cnpido
Ha?suri saxis cinerum custodibus ad qua?
Discutienda valent sterilis mala robora flcns."
Juvenal, x. 11. I-ll-ti.
3 main or " master-beams " of a building (trabs) ; also, it is said,
lintels. Usually printed with a capital S, which is misleading.
4 = supported.
6 See the Memoir, as before, for Various Readings.
113
68. OUE LIFE IS HID WITH CHRIST IN
GOD.
Coloss. iii. 3.
JY words and thoughts do both expresse
this notion,
That LIFE hath with the sun a double
motion.
The first Is straight, and our diurnall friend ;
The other HID, and doth obliquely bend.
One life is wrapt IN flesh, and tends to earth ;
The other winds towards HIM, Whose happie birth
Taught me to live here so THAT still one eye
Should aim and shoot at that which Is on high ;
Quitting with daily labour all MY pleasure,
To gain at harvest an eternall TREASURE.
59. 1T VANITIE.
' HE fleet astronomer can bore
And thred the spheres with his quick-
piercing minde ;
He views their stations, walks from
doore to doore,
Surveys as if he had design'd
To make a purchase there; he sees their dances, 5
And knoweth long before
Both their full-ey'd aspects1 and secret glances.
• -• the " aspects " of the planets inter *e. The aspects of the
planets were their apparent positions in regard to one another as seen
114 THE TEMPLE.
The nimble diver with his side
Cuts through the working waves, that he may fetch
His dearly-earned pearl; which God did hide 10
On purpose from the venturous wretch,
That He might save his life, and also hers
Who with excessive pride
Her own destruction and his danger wears.
The subtil chymick can devest 15
And strip the creature naked, till he finde
The callow1 principles within their nest :
There he imparts to them his minde,
Admitted to their bed-chamber before
They appeare trim aud drest 20
To ordinarie suitours at the doore.
What hath not man sought out and found,
But his deare God ? Who yet His glorious law
Embosomes in us, mellowing the ground
With showers and frosts, with love and aw,
So that we need not say, Where's this command ?
Poore man, thou searchest round
To find out death, but missest life at hand !
60. 1T LENT.
WELCOME, deare feast of Lent! who
loves not thee,
He loves not temperance or authoritie,
But is a child of passion.
The Scriptures bid us fast : the Church says, ' Now2
from the earth, and were generally or mainly divided into five. Con-
junction = when in the same sign. Sextile « when divided by !•
signs or 60°. Qnartile = when 90° apart. Trine « when 120°. Iti
opposition, when 180° or in opposite signs — a position which denote
greatest enmity between the two inflnences.
' = bare, unfledged. This is a Wiltshire word, and appears it
Ackerman's " List of Wiltshire words." See 90. " Providence," 1. ""
3 See Various Readings in the Memoir, us before.
LENT. 115
Give to thy Mother what thou wouldst allow 5
To ev'ry corporation.' l
The humble soul, compos'd of love and fear,
Begins at home, and layes the burden there,
When doctrines disagree ;
5e sayes, ' In things which use hath justly got 10
[ am a scandall to the Church, and not
The Church is so to me.'
True Christians should be glad of an occasion
To use their temperance, seeking no evasion,
When good is seasonable; 15
Unlesse authentic, which should increase 2
The obligation in us, make it lesse,
And power it self disable.
Besides the cleannesse of sweet abstinence,
Quick thoughts, and motions at a small ex-
pense, 20
A face not fearing light ;
Whereas in fulnesse there are sluttish fumes,
Sowre exhalations, and dishonest rheumes,
Revenging the delight.
Then those same pendant profits,3 which the
Spring 15
And Easter intimate, enlarge the thing
And goodnesse of the deed ; •
Neither ought other men's abuse of Lent
Spoil our good us"e, lest fey that argument
We forfeit all our creed. 30
- '>edienee to rules and reflations. Corporation is corporate
'bodies generally, whether municipal or a company.
* 11. 16-18, = Unless Authority, which has tne power of increasing
.ration. The sense is obscured to ns by the peculiar use of
" should." It is the reverse argument — fast at a seasonable time,
ret not if Authority thinks tit to forbid that time.
* = the frnits which show in Spring, and intimate a gathering
in ilue M a ...
116
THE TEMPLE.
It's true we cannot reach Christ's forti'th day;
Yet to go part of that religious way
Is better then to rest :
We cannot reach our Saviour's puritie ;
Yet are we bid, " Be holy ev'n as He :" 35
In both let's do our best.
Who goeth in the way which Christ hath gone
Is much more sure to meet with Him then one
That travelleth by-wayes ;
Perhaps my God, though He be farre before, 40
May turn, and take me by the hand, and more,
May strengthen my decayes.
Yet, Lord, instruct us to improve our fast
By starving sinne, and taking such repast
As may our faults controll ; 45
That ev'ry man may revell at his doore,
Not in his parlour — banquetting the poore,
And among those, his soul.
61. 1 VEKTUE.
WEET day, so cool, so calm, so bright,
The bridall of the earth and skie,
The dew shall weep thy fall to-night ;
For thou must die.
Sweet rose, whose hue angrie and brave
Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye,
Thy root is ever in its l grave,
And thou must die.
Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses,
A box where sweets compacted lie,
My musick shows ye have your closes,
And all must die.
I The WUliams and Bodleian MSS. " his."
THE PEARL. 117
Onely a sweet and vertuous soul,
Like season'd timber, never gives ;
But though ' the whole world turn to coal, 15
Then chiefly lives.
62. f THE PEAKL.
• Matt. xiii.
KNOW the wayes of Learning ; both
the head
And pipes that feed the presse, and
make it runne ;
What Keason hath from Nature borrowed,
Or of itself, like a good huswife, spunne
In laws and policie ; what the starres conspire, 5
What willing Nature speaks, what forc'd by fire ;
Both th' old discoveries and the new-found seas,
The stock and surplus, cause and historic, —
All these stand open, or I have the keyes :
Yet I love Thee. 10
I know the wayes of Honour, what maintains
The quick returns of courtesie and wit ;
In vies 2 of favours whether partie gains ;
When glorie swells the heart, and moldeth it
To all expressions both of hand and eye ; 1 5
Which on the world a true-love knot may tie,
And bear the bundle, wheresoe're it goes ;
How many drammes of spirit there must be
To sell my life unto my friends or foes :
Yet I love Thee. *o
1 Some late editions " when."
1 See previous note on 10. " Easter," 1. 15. Here there is probably
an allusion to "vying" Ht cards, though the meaning being the
tame, it is quite intelligible without reference to such allusion.
118 THE TEMPLE.
I know the ways of Pleasure, the sweet strains,
The hillings and ^he relishes of it ;
The propositions of hot bloud and brains ;
What mirth and musick mean ; what Love and
Wit
Have done these twentie hundred years and
more ; 25
I know the projects of unbridled store :
My stuffe is flesh, not brasse ; my senses live,
And grumble oft that they have more in me
Then He that curbs them, being but one to five :
Yet I love Thee. 30
I know all these, and have them in my hand :
(.Therefore not seeled,1 but with open eyes
I flie to Thee, and fully understand
Both the main sale and the commodities ;
And at what rate and price I have Thy love, 35
With all the circumstances that may move :
Yet through the labyrinths, not my groveling wit,
But Thy silk-twist * let down from hear'n to me,
Did both conduct and teach me how by it
To climb to Thee. ^
1 See Various Readings in the Memoir, as before. " Seeled," a
technical term in hawking for drawiug a thread through both ijye-
lids so as to close the eye. See previous note on "The Church
Porch," st. Ixx., 1. 1. Cf. also Sir Philip Sidney (my edition, s. v.).
* Cf. with this Joseph Fletcher (my edition, p. 154) in " Christe's
Bloodie Sweate " : —
" Euen as a man that treades a wearie pace
In laboriuthes, continually in doubt
To find the centre of the curious tniri' ;
Once entred, still vncertaine to get out,
Before some skillful maister by a tu-ist
Doth guide him in or out, or as he list."
= cord or clue, as in Herbert.
119
63. Tf TENTATION.
[KOKEN in pieces all asunder,
Lord, hunt me not,
A thing forgot,
Once a poore creature, now a wonder,
A wonder tortur'd in the space 5
Betwixt this world and that of grace.
My thoughts are all a case of knives,
Wounding my heart
With scatter' d smart,
As wat' ring-pots give flowers their lives ; 10
Nothing their furie can coutroll
While they do wound and prick my soul.
All my attendants are at strife,
Quitting their place
Unto my face ; 15
Nothing performs the task of life :
The elements are let loose to fight,
And while I live trie out their right.
Oh help, my God ! let not their plot
Kill them and me, 20
And also Thee,
Who art my life ; dissolve the knot,
As the sunne scatters by his light
All the rebellions of the night.
Then shall those powers which work for grief ^^
Enter Thy pay,
And day by day
Labour Thy praise and my relief;
With care and courage building me
Till I reach heav'n, and, much more, Thee. 30
120
THE TEMPLE.
64. If MAN.
[ Y God, I heard l this day
That none doth build a stately habi-
tation
But he that means to dwell therein.
"What house more stately hath there been,
Or can be, then is Man ? to whose creation 2 5
All things are in decay.
For Man is ev'ry thing,
And more : he is a tree, yet bears mo 3 fruit ;
A beast, yet is, or should be, more:
Eeason and speech we onely bring ; 10
Parrats may thank us, if they are not mute,
They go upon the score.4
Man is all symmetrie,
Full of proportions, one limbe to another,
And all to all the world 6 besides ; 15 I
Each part may call the farthest brother,
For head with foot hath private amitie,
And both with moons and tides.
Nothing hath got so farre
But Man hath caught and kept it as his prey ; 20
His eyes dismount the highest starre ;
He is in little all the sphere ;
Herbs gladly cure our flesh, because that they
Finde their acquaintance there.
1 Probably in some sermon by one of his curates.
2 «i not act of creation, but to his building np, for which animals
are killed, trees Idled, \r.
3 •• Mo" = more, from the Williams MS. The misreading "no"
for " mo " is thus corrected. See the Memoir, as before, for Various
Readings here and throughout.
• =They borrow or obtain on trust.
6 According to a very favourite idea at that time that man had
such analogy with all jmrts of the world as to be a world in little,
microcosm ; see 11. 23 and 47, &c.
MAN. 121
For us the windes do blow,1 15
The earth resteth, heav'n moueth, fountains flow ;
Nothing we see but mean8_our_good,
As our delight or as our treasure ;
The whole is either our cupboard of food
Or cabinet of pleasure. 30
The starres have us to bed,
Night draws the curtain, which the sunne with-
draws ;
Musick and light attend our head,
All things unto our flesh are kinde
In their descent and being ; 2 to our minde 35
In their ascent and cause.
Each thing is full of dutie :
Waters united are our navigation ;
Distinguished,3 our habitation ;
Below, our drink ; above, our meat ; 40
Both are our cleanlinesse.4 Hath one such beautie ?
Then how are all things neat !
I More servants wait on Man
Than he'l take notice of : in ev'ry path
He treads down that which doth befriend him
When sicknesse makes him pale and wan. 46
Oh mightie love ! Man is one world, aud hath
Another to attend him.
Since then, my God, Thou hast
So brave a palace built, O dwell in it, So
That it may dwell with Thee at last ! /
Till then afford us so much wit,
That, as the world serves us, we may serve Thee,
And both Thy servants be.
* See Various Readings in the Memoir, as before.
' See the longer Notes and Illustrations (y), as ^fore.
(*). « Ibid (aa). * Ibid (bb).
122
THE TEMPLE.
65. f ANTIPHON.
Chorus.
RAISED be the God of love
Men. Here below,
Ang. And here above ;
Chor. Who hath dealt his mercies so
Ang. To His friend, 5
Men. And to His foe ; l
Chor. That both grace and glorie tend
Ang. Us of old,
Men. And us in th' end.
Chor. The great Shepherd of the fold
Ang. Us did make,
Men. For us was sold.
Chor. He our foes in pieces brake :
Ang. Him we touch,
Men. And Him we take. i <
Chor. Wherefore, since that He is such,
Ang. We adore,
Men. And we do crouch.
Chor. Lord, Thy praises should bee more.
Men. We have none, ao
Ang. And we no store ;
Chor. Praised be the God alone
Who hath made of two folds one.
1 11. 5-6. There is no line without a rhyme, for these lines are, i
may be seen from the last, parts in reality of oue Hue.
123
66. If UNKINDNESSE.
1 ORD, make me coy and tender to offend :
In friendship, first I think if that agree
Which I intend
Unto my friend's intent and end ;
I would not use a friend as I use Thee. 5
If any touch my friend or his good name,
It is my honour and my love to free
His blasted fame
From the least spot or thought of blame :
I could not use a friend as I use Thee. 10
My friend may spit upon my curious floore ;
Would he have gold ? I lend it instantly ;
But let the poore,
And Thou within them, starve at doore :
I cannot use a friend as I use Thee. 1 5
When that my friend pretendeth l to a place,
I quit my interest, and leave it free ;
But when Thy grace
Sues for my heart, I Thee displace ;
Nor would I use a friend as I use Thee. 20
Yet can a friend what Thou hast done fulfill ?
0, write in brass, ' My God upon a tree
His bloud did spill,
Onely to purchase my good-will :'
Yet use I not my foes as I use Thee. 25
' = stretcheth forth, seeketh.
124 THE TEMPLE.
67. f LIFE.
MADE a posie1 while the day ran by :
Here will I smell my remnant out, and
tie
My life within this band ;
But Time did becken to the flow'rs, and they
By noon most cunningly did steal away, 5
And wither'd in my hand.
My hand was next to them, and then my heart ;
I took, without more thinking, in good part
Time's gentle admonition ;
Who did so sweetly Death's sad taste convey, 10
Making my miude to smell my fatall day,
Yet sugring the suspicion.
Farewell, deare flow'rs ; sweetly your time ye spent,
Fit while ye lived for smell or ornament,
And after death for cures. 15
I follow straight, without complaints or grief;
Since if my scent be good, I care not if
It be as short as yours.
68. f SUBMISSION.
UT that Thou art my wisdome, Loi
And both mine eyes are Thine,
My minde would be extreamly stii
For missing my designe.
1 Posie is a contraction of poesy ; here it means a wreath or clt
of flowers.— WiLtMOTT. This is inexact. Posie here is = a nos
JUSTICE. 125
Were it not better to bestow 5
Some place and power on me ?
Then should Thy praises with me grow,
And share in my degree.
But when I thus dispute and grieve,
I do resume my fight ; 10
And pilfring what I once did give,
Disseize Thee of Thy right.
How know I, if Thou shonldst me raise,
That I should then raise Thee ?
Perhaps great places and Thy praise 15
Do not so well agree.
Wherefore unto my gift I stand,
I will no more advise ;
Onely do Thou lend me a hand,
Since Thou hast both mine eyes. *o
69. f JUSTICE.
CANNOT skill of these Thy wayes :
Lord, Thou didst make me, yet Thou
woundest me ;
Lord, Thou dost wound me, yet Thou
dost relieve me ;
Lord, Thou relievest, yet I die by Thee ;
Lord, Thou dost kill me, yet Thou dost reprieve
me. 5
I do not think it is anywhere found as " a -wreath." Minshen, Cot-
(frave, and others five only " nosegay, bouquet, bunch of flowers."
It was probably so vailed because the present or flowers was made
ir. 5).
126 THE TEMPLE.
But when I mark my life and praise,
Thy justice me most fitly payes ;
For I do praise Thee, yet I praise Thee not ;
My prayers mean Thee, yet my prayers stray ;
I would do well, yet sinne the hand hath got ; 10
My soul doth love Thee, yet it loves delay ;
I cannot skill of these my ways.
70. 11 CHAEMS AND KNOTS.
HO reade a chapter when they rise,
Shall ne'ere be troubled with ill eyes.
A poor man's rod, when Thou dost
ride,1
Is both a weapon and a guide.
Who shuts his hand hath lost his gold ;
Who opens it hath it twice-told.
Who goes to bed and doth not pray
Maketh two nights to ev'ry day.
Who by aspersions throw a stone
At th' head of others, hit their own.
Who looks on ground with humble eyes
Findes himself there, and seeks to rise.
When th' hair is sweet through pride or lust,
The powder 2 doth forget the dust.
Take one from ten,, and what remains ? i<
Ten still, if sermons go for gains.
1 = the high-seated ran be frequently helped by the most hnmble.
5 The hair powder here spoken of was sjold dust, talc flakes, and
the like, sprinkled so as to make the hair gluten.
AFFLICTION. 127
In shallow waters heav'n doth show ;
But who drinks on, to hell may go.1
71. IT AFFLICTION.
[ Y God, I read this day
That planted Paradise was not so firm
As was and is Thy floting Ark, whose
«tay '
And anchor Thou art onely, to confirm
And strengthen it in ev'ry age, 5
When wares do rise and tempests rage.
At first we liv'd in pleasure,
Thine own delights Thou didst to us impart ;
When Ve grew wanton, Thou* didst use displeasure
To make us Thine-; yefrthat we might not part» 10
As we at first did board with Thee,
Now Thou wouldst taste our miserie.
There is but joy and grief :
If either will convert us, we are Thine ;
Some angels us'd the first ; if our relief 15
Take up the second, then Thy double line
And sev'rall baits in either kinde
Furnish Thy table to Thy minde.
Affliction, then, is ours ; 19
We are the trees, whom shaking fastens more ;
While blustriug windes destroy the wanton
bowres,
And ruffle all their curious knots and store.2
My God, so temper joy and wo
That Thy bright beams may tame Thy Bow.
1 See Various Reading from the Williams MS. in the Memoir,
M before, finely elucidative of this couplet and context.
* No one seems to have noticed this word. It is still provincial for
a " stake," aud appears here in a collective sense. Perhaps of rout,
Fr. ettorer, erect, raise, build.
128
THE TEMPLE.
72. MOKTIFICATION.
soon doth man decay !
When clothes are taken from a chest of
sweets
To swaddle infants, whose young
breath
Scarce knows the way,
Those clouts are little winding-sheets, 5
Which do consign and send them unto Death.
When boyes go first to bed,
They step into their voluntarie graves ;
Sleep binds them fast, onely their breath
Makes them not dead: 10
Successive nights, like rolling waves,
Convey them quickly who are bound for Death.
When Youth is frank and free,
And calls for musick, while his veins do swell,
All day exchanging mirth and breath 1 5
In companie,
That musick summons to the knell
Which shall befriend him at the house of Death.
When man grows staid and wise,
Getting a house and home, where he may move 20
Within the circle of his breath,
Schooling his eyes,
That dumbe inclosure maketh love
Unto the coffin that attends his death.
When Age grows low and weak,
Marking 1 his grave, and thawing ev'ry year,
1 = looking down to.
DECAY. 129
Till all do melt and drown his breath
When he would speak,
A chair or litter shows the biere
Which shall convey him to the house of Death. 30
Man, ere he is aware,
Hath put together a solemnitie,
And drest his hearse, while he has breath
As yet to spare ;
Yet, Lord, instruct us so to die, 35
That all these dyings may be LIFE in DEATH.
73. IT DECAY.
WEET were the days when Thou didst
lodge with Lot,
Struggle with Jacob, sit with Gideon,
Advise with Abraham ; when Thy
power could not
Encounter Moses' strong complaints and mone: 4
Thy words were then, " Let Me alone."
One might have sought and found Thee presently
At some fair oak, or bush, or cave, or well :
' Is my God this way ? ' ' No,' they would
reply ;
1 He is to Sinai gone, as we heard tell ;
List, ye may heare great Aaron's bell.' 10
But now Thou dost Thyself immure and close
In some one corner of a feeble heart ;
Where yet both Sinne and Satan, Thy old foes,
Do pinch and straiten Thee, and use much art
To gain Thy thirds ' and little part. 1 5
1 Sin, Satan, and God, being each in possession, had each a third.
K
130 THE TEMPLE.
I see the world grows old, when, as the heat
Of Thy great love, — once spread, — as in an urn
Doth closet up itself, and still retreat,
Cold Sinne still forcing it, — till it return,
And calling Justice, all things burn. 2<
74. f MISEEIE.
OED, Let the angels praise Thy name:
Man is a foolish thing, a foolish thing ;
Folly and sinne play all his game ;
His house still burns, and yet he still
doth sing —
Man is but grasse, 5
He knows it — ' Fill the glasse.' l
How canst Thou brook his foolishnesse ?
Why, he'l not lose a cup of drink for Thee :
Bid him but temper his excesse,
Not he : he knows where he can better be —
As he will swear —
Then to serve Thee in fear.
What strange pollutions doth he wed,
And make his own ! as if none knew but he.
No man shall beat into his head 15]
That Thou within his curtains' drawn2 canst see:]
' They are of cloth,
Where never yet came moth.'
The best of men, turn but Thy hand
For one poore minute, stumble at a pinne ;
1 The reference is to the saying of the parable : " Take thine en
eat, drink, and be merry."— St. Luke xii. 19.
» Ps. cxxxix. 2.
MISERIE. 131
They would not have their actions scann'd,
Nor any sorrow tell them that they sinne,
Though it be small,
And measure not their fall.
They quarrell1 Thee, and would give over 25
The bargain made to serve Thee ; but Thy love
Holds them unto it, and doth cover
Pheir follies with the wings of Thy milde Dove,2
Not sufTring those
Who would, to be Thy foes. 30
My God, man cannot praise Thy name :
Oiou art all brightnesse, perfect puritie ;
The sunne holds down his head for shame,
Dead with eclipses, when we speak of Thee :
How shall infection 35
Presume on Thy perfection ?
As dirtie hands foule all they touch,
And those things most which are most pure and
fine,
So our clay-hearts, ev'n when we crouch
To sing Thy praises, make them less divine : 40
Yet either this
Or none Thy portion is.
Man cannot serve Thee : let him go
And serve the swine — there, there is his delight :
He doth not like this vertue, no ; 45
Give him his dirt to wallow in all nights:
'These preachers make
His head to shoot and ake.'
1 Found as a verb active in the elder poets. Ben Jonson (" Every
Man in his Humour ") has it : —
" And now that I had quarrelled
My brother purposely. — WILLMOTT.
1 U. 28, 50, 75 ; see Various Readings in the Memoir, as before. .
132 THE TEMPLE.
0 foolish man ! where are thine eyes P
How hast thou lost them in a crowd of cares ! 50
Thou pull'st the rug, and wilt not rise,
No, not to purchase the whole pack of starres :
' There let them shine ;
Thou must go sleep, or dine.'
The bird that sees a daintie bowre1 55
Made in the tree, where she was wont to sit,
Wonders and sings, but not His power
Who made the arbor ; this exceeds her wit.
But Man doth know
The spring whence all things flow: 60
And yet, as though he knew it not,
His knowledge winks, and lets his humours reigne ;
They make his life a constant blot,
And all the bloud of God to run in vain.
Ah, wretch! what verse 65
Can thy strange wayes rehearse?
Indeed, at first Man was a treasure,
A box of jewels, shop of rarities,
A ring whose posie2 was 'My pleasure ;'
He was a garden in a Paradise ; 70
Glorie and grace
Did crown his heart and face.
But sinne hath fool'd him ; now he is
A lump of flesh, without a foot or wing
To raise him to a glimpse of blisse ; 75
A sick-toss'd vessel, dashing on each thing,
Nay his own shelf:
My God, I mean myself.
1 That made by the leafing of Spring.
9 t'.*. motto. So in Cartwright's " Love's Conquest," iv. 8, p. 159:
"My rings shall all b' engrav'd with holy posies
As ' constant until death ' — ' Endless as this ' —
« So is my love ' — ' Not hands but hearts.'"
133
75. 11 JOED AN.1
|HEN first my verse of heav'nly joyee
made mention,
Such was their lustre, they did so ex-
cell,
That I sought out quaint words and trim in-
vention ;
My thoughts began to burnish,2 sprout, and swell,
Curling with metaphors a plain intention, 5
Decking the sense as if it were to sell.
Thousands of notions in my brain did runne,
Off 'ring their service, if I were not sped :
I often blotted what I had begunne —
This was not quick enough, and that was dead ; 10
Nothing could seem to'o rich to clothe the sunne,
Much lesse those joyes which trample on his head.
As flames do work and winde when they ascend,
So did I weave myselfe into the sense ;
But while I bustled I might hear a friend 1 5
Whisper, ' How wide is all this long pretence !
There is in love a sweetnesse ready penn'd ;
Copie out onely that, and save expense.'
* See on 25. " Jordan : " and the longer Notes and Illustrations
(ec), as before.
* See longer Notes and Illustrations (dd), as before.
134 THE TEMPLE.
76. f PKAYEK.
• F what an easie quick accesse,
My blessed Lord, art Thou ! how sud-
denly
May our requests thine ears invade !
To show that State dislikes not easinesse,
If I but lift mine eyes my suit is made ; 5
Thou canst no more not heare then Thou canst
die.
Of what supreme almightie power
Is Thy great arm, which spans the east and west
And tacks the centre to the sphere !
By it do all things live their measur'd houre ; 10
We cannot ask the thing which is not there,
Blaming the shallownesse of our request.
Of what unmeasurable love
Art Thou possest, Who, when Thou couldst not
die,
Wert fain to take our flesh and curse, 1 5
And for our sakes in person sinne reprove ;
That by destroying that which ty'd Thy purse,
Thou mightst make way for liberalitie !
Since, then, these three wait on Thy throne,
Ease, Power, and Love, I value Prayer so, 20
That were I to leave all but one,
Wealth, fame, endowments, vertues, all should
go;
I and deare Prayer would together dwell,
And quickly gain for each inch lost an ell.
135
77. IT OBEDIENCE.
I Y God, if writings may -
Convey a lordship any way
Whither the buyer and the seller please,
Let it not Thee displease
' this poore paper do as much as they. 5
On it my heart doth bleed
As many lines as there doth need
passe itself and all it hath to Thee;
To which I do agree,
id here present it as my speciall deed.1 10
If that hereafter Pleasure
Cavill, and claim her part and measure,
LS if this passed with a reservation,
Or some such words in fashon,
I here shutt out the wrangler from Thy treasure. 1 5
0, let Thy sacred will
All Thy delight in me fulfill !
Let me not think an action mine own way,
But as Thy love shall sway,
Besigning up the rudder to Thy skill. 20
Lord, what is man to Thee,
That Thou shouldst minde a rotten tree !
Yet since Thou canst not choose but see my
actions,
So great are Thy perfections,
Thou mayst as well my actions guide as see. 25
1 Herbert's " Country Parson " is to be all to his parish, and not
only a pastor, bat a lawyer also (c. zziii.) ; here he adopts the legal
expression for a conveyance — " I deliver this as my act and deed. —
WlLLJlOTT.
136 THE TEMPLE.
Besides, Thy death and bloud
Show'd a strange love to all our good ;
Thy sorrows were in earnest, no faint proffer,
Or superficial offer
Of what we might ndt take or be withstood. 30
Wherefore I all forego :
To one word onely I say, No ;
Where in the deed there was an intimation
Of a gift or donation,
Lord, let it now by way of purchase go. 35
He that will passe his land,
As I have mine, may set his hand
And heart unto this deed, when he hath read,
And make the purchase spread
To both our goods, if he to it will stand. 40
How happie were my part,
If some kinde man would thrust his heart
Into these lines, till in heav'n's Court of Rolls
They were by winged souls
Entred for both, farre above their desert ! 45
78. 11 CONSCIENCE.
^EACE, pratler, do not lowre :
Not a fair look but thou dost call it
foul,
Not a sweet dish but thou dost call it
sowre ;
Musick to thee doth howl.
By list'ning to thy chatting fears
I have both lost mine eyes and eares.
SIGN. 137
Pratler, no more, I say ;
My thoughts must work, but like a noiselesse
sphere ;
Harmonious peace must rock them all the day,
No room for pratlers there. 10
If thou persistest, I will tell thee
That I have physick to expell thee.
And the receit shall be
My Saviour's bloud : whenever at His board
I do but taste it, straight it cleanseth me, 15
And leaves thee not a word ;
No, not a tooth or nail to scratch,
And at my actions carp or catch.
Yet if thou talkest still,
Besides my physick know there's some for thee ; 20
Some wood and nails to make a stafie or bill *
For those that trouble me :
The bloudie crosse of my deare Lord
Is both my physick and my sword.
79. IT SIGN.
| ORD, with what glorie wast Thou serv'd
of old,
When Solomon's temple stood and
flourished !
Where most things were of purest gold,
The wood was all embellished
With flowers and carvings mysticall and rare ; 5
All show'd the builders crav'd the seer's care.
1 i. e. the favourite weapon of the English soldiery, which watch-
men afterw arils continued to carry a bill-hook set on a staff battle-
axe fashion. An engraving of a watchman so armed is given in
" Bagwell's Malone Shakespeare," vol. vii. p. 86.
138 THE TEMPLE.
Yet all this glorie, all this pomp and state,
Did not affect Thee much, was not Thy aim :
Something there* was that sow'd debate ;
Wherefore Thou quit'st Thy ancient claim,' 10
And now Thy architecture me"ets with sinne,
For all Thy frame and fabrick is within.
There Thou art struggling with a peevish heart,
Which sometimes crosseth Thee, Thou some-
times it ;
The fight is hard on either part : 1 5
Great God doth fight, He doth submit.
All Solomon's sea of brasse and world of stone
Is not so deare to Thee as one good grone.
And truly brasse and stones are heavie things —
Tombes for the dead, not temples fit for Thee ; 20
But grones are quick, and full of wings,
And all their motions upward be ;
And ever as they mount like larks they sing ;
The note is sad, yet musick for a king.
80. f HOME.
OME, Lord, my head doth burn, my
heart is sick,
While Thou dost ever, ever stay ;
Thy long deferrings wound me to the
quick,
My spirit gaspeth night and day :
0, show Thyself to me, 5
Or take me up to Thee !
How canst Thou stay, considering the pace
The bloud did make which Thou didst waste ?
HOME. 139
"When I behold it trickling down Thy face,
I never saw thing make such haste : 10
O, show Thyself to me,
Or take me up to Thee !
When man was lost, Thy pitie lookt about
To see what help in th' earth or skie ;
But there was none, at least no help without ; 15
The help did in Thy bosom lie :
0, show Thyself to me,
Or take me up to Thee !
There lay Thy Sonne ; and must He leave that
nest,
That hive of sweetnesse, to remove ao
Thraldom from those who would not at a feast
Leave one poore apple ' for Thy love P
0, show Thyself to me,
Or take me up to Thee !
He did, He came : O, my Eedeemer deare, 15
After all this canst Thou be strange ?
So many yeares baptiz'd, and not appeare,
As if Thy love could fail or change ?
0, show Thyself to me,
Or take me up to Thee ! 30
Yet if Thou stayest still, why must I stay ?
My God, what is this world to me ?
This world of wo. Hence, all ye clouds; away,
Away ; I must get up and see :
O, show Thyself to me, 35
Or take me up to
What is this weary world, this meat and drink,
That chains us by the teeth so fast ?
1 — Who (in Adam and Eve) would not leave an apple.
140 THE TEMPLE.
What is this woman-kinde, which I can wink
Into a blacknesse and distaste ? 40
O, show Thyself to me,
Or take me up to Thee !
With one small sigh Thou gav'st me th' other day
I blasted all the joyes about me,
And scouling on them as they pin'd away, 45
1 Now come again,' said I, ' and flout me.'
O, show Thyself to me,
Or take me up to Thee !
Nothing but drought and dearth, but bush and
brake,
Which way so-e're I look, I see ; 50
Some may dream merrily, but when they wake,
They dresse themselves and come to Thee :
O, show Thyself to me,
Or take me up to Thee 1
We talk of harvests — there are no such things 55
But when we leave our corn and hay ;
There is no fruitfull yeare but that which brings
The last and lov'd, though dreadfull day :
O, show Thyself to me,
Or take me up to Thee ! 60
Oh, loose this frame, this knot of man untie ;
That my free soul may use her wing,
Which now is piniou'd with mortalitie,
As an intangl'd, hamper'd thing :
O, show Thyself to me,
Or take' me up to Thee !
What have I left, that I should stay and grone?
The most of me to heav'n is fled ;
THE BRITISH CHURCH. 141
My thoughts and joyes are all packt up and gone,
And for their old acquaintance plead : 70
0, show Thyself to me,
Or take me up to Thee !
Come, dearest Lord, passe not this holy season,
My flesh and bones and joynts do pray ;
Andev'n my verse, when by the ry me and reason 75
The word is " Stay," l says ever, " Come :"
O, show Thyself to me,
Or take me up to Thee !
81. 1F THE BRITISH CHURCH.
JOY, deare Mother, when I view
Thy perfect lineaments and hue,
Both sweet and bright.
Beauty in thee takes up her place,
And dates her letters from thy face, 5
When she doth write.
A fine aspect in fit aray,
Neither too mean nor yet too gay,
Shows who is best.
Outlandish looks may not compare ; 10
For all they either painted are,
Or else undrest.
She on the hills, which wantonly
Allureth all in hope to be
By her preferr'd, 1 5
1 The word by the rhyme 'pray' (I. 74), and hy reason of his
mat should be ' stay.' It will be noticed that the word ' come '
(1. 70) neither rhymes nor is, according to man's logic, reason.
142 THE TEMPLE.
Hath kiss'd so long her painted J shrines,
That ev'n her face by kissing shines,
For her reward.
She in the valley is so shie
Of dressing, that her hair doth lie ao
About her eares ;
While she avoids her neighbour's pride,
She wholly goes on th' other side.
And nothing wears.
But, dearest Mother, what those misse, 25
The mean thy praise and glorie is,
And long may be.
Blessed be God, Whose love it was
To double-moat 2 thee with His grace,
And none but thee. 30
82. 1T THE QUIP.3
HE merrie World did on a day
With his train-bands and mates
agree
To meet together where I lay,
And all in sport to geere at me.
First Beautie crept into a rose, 5
Which when I pluckt not, ' Sir,' said she,
' Tell me, I pray, whose hands are those? '
But Thou shalt answer, Lord, for me.
1 See previous note on " painted." — (Olossarial Index, s. r.)
3 Like a castle with two moats or streams of water round it. —
WlLLMOTT.
» A pleasantry.— WitLMOTT. Not exactly this. Minsheu gives
it = taunt. Cotgrave better— flout, gird, nip, &c. At its acmd
and in its most refined sense, it was a bitter pleasantry or raillrry,
as here and as in Shakespeare's " quip modest — " I cut it to please
myself;" and as explained by Lyly (Nares) : " ft. Why, what's a
quip ? Ma. We great girders call it a short saying of a sharp wit,
with a bitter tense in a sweet word."
VANITIE. 143
Then Money came, and chinking still,
' What tune is this, poore man ? ' said he ; 10
' I heard in Mustek you had skill :'
But Thou shalt answer, Lord, for me.
Then came brave Glorie puffing by
In silks that whistled, who but he !
He scarce allowed me half an eie : 1 5
But Thou shalt answer, Lord, for me.
Then came quick Wit and Conversation,
And he would needs a comfort be,
And, to be short, make an oration :
But Thou shalt answer, Lord, for me. 20
Yet when the houre of Thy designe
To answer these fine things shall come,
Speak not at large, say, I am Thine,
And then they have their answer home.
83. f VANITIE.
»OOKE silly soul, whose hope and head
lies low,
Whose flat delights on earth do creep
and grow ;
To whom the starres shine not so fair as eyes,
Nor solid work as false embroyderies, —
Heark and beware, lest what you now do mea-
sure 5
And write for sweet prove a most sowre dis-
pleasure.
O, heare betimes, lest thy relenting
May come too late ;
To purchase heaven for repenting
Is no hard rate. 10
144 THE TEMPLE.
If souls be made of earthly mould,
Let them love gold ;
If born on high,
Let them unto their kindred flie ;
For they can never be at rest
Till they regain their ancient nest.
Then, silly soul, take heed ; for earthly joy
Is but a bubble, and makes thee a boy.
84. IT THE DAWNING.
'WAKE, sad heart, whom sorrow ever
drowns ;
Take up thine eyes, which feed on
earth ;
Unfold thy forehead, gathered into frowns ;
Thy Saviour comes, and with Him mirth :
Awake, awake, 5
And with a thankfull heart His comforts take.
But thou dost still lament, and pine, and crie,
And feel His death, but not His victorie.
Arise, sad heart ; if thou dost not withstand,
Christ's resurrection thine may be ; 10
Do not by hanging down break from the hand
Which, as it riseth, raiseth thee :
Arise, arise,
And with His buriall-linen drie thine eyes.
Christ left His grave-clothes, that we might,
when grief
Draws tears or bloud, not want an handker-
chief.
145
85. T JESU.
[ESU is in my heart, His sacred name
Is deeply carved there : but th' othei
week
A great affliction broke the little frame
Ev'n all to pieces ; which I went to seek :
And first I found the corner where was J, 5
After where ES, and next where U was grav'd.
When I had got these parcels, instantly
I sat me down to spell them, and perceiv'd
That to my broken heart he was I ease you,
And to my whole is JESU. 10
86. If BUSINESSE.
ANST be idle ? canst thou play,
Foolish soul, who sinn'd to day ?
Eivers run, and springs each one
Know their home, and get them gone :
Hast thou tears, or hast thou none ? 5
If, poore soul, thou hast no tears,
Would thou hadst no faults or fears !
Who hath these, those, ill forbears.
Windes still work — it is their plot,
Be the season cold or hot : 10
Hast thou sighs, or hast thou not?
If thou hast no sighs or grones,
Would thou hadst no flesh and bones !
Lesser pains scape greater ones.
L
146 THE TEMPLE.
But if yet thou idle be,
Foolish soul, Who died for thee ?
Who did leave His Father's throne
To assume thy flesh and bone p
Had He life, or had He none P
If He had not liv'd for thee,
Thou hadst died1 most wretchedly,
And two deaths had been thy fee.
He so farre thy good did plot,
That His own self He forgot :
Did He die, or did He not ?
If He had not died for thee,
Thou hadst liv'd in miserie ;
Two lives 2 worse then ten deaths be.
And hath any space of breath
'Twixt his sinnes' and Saviour's death P3 30 I
He that loseth gold, though drosse,
Tells to all he meets, his crosse :
He that sinnes, hath he no losse ?
He that findes a silver vein
Thinks on it, and thinks again : 35
Brings thy Saviour's death no gain ?
Who in heart not ever kneels
Neither sinne nor Saviour feels.
Cf. 1. 26. As "died" is monosyllabic with us, and as 'd only
makes that, I have not retained " di'd " of 1632-3 onward, here or
elsewhere, as it is only a source of confusion.
a The life in death now and the life in death hereafter.
3 Query — sinnes or sinnes', i.e. sinnes' [death] ? Probably the
latter : hence so given. There is no menu or resting-place betwi-cu
the two, between the death or death-life due to sin and the life
given by the Saviour's death.
147
87. T[ DIALOGUE.
MAN.
rEETEST Saviour1, if my soul
Were but worth the having,
Quickly should I then controll
Any thought of waving.1
But when all my care and pains 5
Cannot give the name of gains
To Thy wretch so full of stains,
What delight or hope remains ?
SAVIOUR.2
What, childe, is the ballance thine,
Thine the poise and measure P 10
If I say, ' Thou shalt be Mine,'
Finger not My treasure.
What the gains in having thee
Do amount to, onely He
Who for man was sold can see ; 1 5
That transferr'd th' accounts to Me.
MAN.
But as I can see no merit
Leading to this favour,
1 = wavering. So Samuel Speed in " Prison Pietie " (1679) :
" In Thomas 'twas a fanlt
To hault
In waving faith until
His will
Was satisfied " (P. 186).
* The second stanza is the Saviour's reply, and I so inscribe it ;
and as it is the Son, not the Father, who speaks, the " that " of 1. 16
most mean " that" [sale]. The rest of the dialogue and its partition
is not so clear, and has been made more obscure by its punctuation
hitherto. I have thus arranged it: Man's reply from 1. 17 to 1. 24
inclusive. Then the Saviour's reply — breaking in on man at 1. -"•
down to 1. 31, " smart."
148 THE TEMPLE.
So the way to fit me for it
Is beyond my savour.1 20
As the reason, then, is Thine,
So the way is none of mine,
I disclaim the whole designe ;
Sinne disclaims and I resigne.
SAVIOUR.
That2 is all :— if that I could 25
Get without repining —
And My clay, My creature, would
Follow My resigning ;3
That as I did freely part
With My glorie and desert, 30
Left all joyes to feel all smart —
MAN.
Ah, no more : Thou break' st my heart.
88. T DULNESSE.
HT do I languish thus, drooping and J
dull,
As if I were all earth ?
0, give me quicknesse, that I mayj
with mirth
Praise Thee brim-full !
The wanton lover in a curious strain 5
Can praise his fairest fair,
And with quaint metaphors her curled hair
Curl o're again.
1 = knowledge.
s " That" «= what man has just said "I resigne," viz., resig
tion.
3 = follow Christ's will as He did His Father's.
DULNESSE. 149
Thou art my lovelinesse, my life, my light,
Beautie alone to me ; 10
Thy bloudy death, and undeserv'd, makes Thee
Pure red and white.
When all perfections as but one appeare,
That, those,1 Thy form doth shew,
The very dust where Thou dost tread and go 15
Makes beauties here.
Where are my lines, then ? my approaches, views ?
Where are my window-songs ? 2
Lovers are still pretending, and ev'n wrongs
Sharpen their Muse. 20
But I am lost in flesh, whose sugred lyes
Still mock me and grow bold :
Sure Thou didst put a minde there, if I could
Finde where it lies.
Lord, cleare Thy gift, that with a constant wit 25
I may but look towards Thee :
Look onely ; for to love Thee who can be,
What angel fit?
1 — all perfections in one : = That (one perfection), those (per-
fections all), as bnt one. Hence the punctuation.
* See Sir Philip Sidney, " Astrophel and Stella," sonnet liii., and
Donne's " Songs and Lyrics" (Fuller Worthies' Library editions).
150
89. T LOVE-JOY.
' S on a window late I cast mine eye,
I saw a vine drop grapes with J aud C
Anneal'd on every bunch. One stand-
ing by
Ask'd what it meant. I (who am never loth
To spend my judgement) said : « It seem'd to me 5
To be the bodie and the letters both
Of Joy and Charitie.' ' Sir, you have not miss'd,'
The man reply'd ; ' it figures JESUS CHRIST.'
90. fl PROVIDENCE.
SACRED Providence, Who from end I
to end
Strongly and sweetly l movest ! shall I
I write,
And not of Thee, through Whom my fingers bend I
To hold my quill? shall they not do Thee right? I
Of all the creatures both in sea and land, 5 J
Onely to man Thou hast made known Thy waycs,
And put the peuue alone into his hand,
And made him secretaire2 of Thy praise.
Beasts fain would sing ; birds dittie 3 to their notes ; |
Trees would be tuning on their native lute 10
To Thy renown : but all their hands and throats
Are brought to Man, while they are lame and mute.
1 Cf. the Vulgate, " Attingit a fine usque ad flnem, fortiter et
rtisponit omuia,sutiviter" (" Sap." viii. 1).
2 lino >n was con temporaneonsly railed " The Secretary of Nature."
Of. Herbert's Latin poems to Bacon.
3 = Birds would fain tit sonic-words to their notes.
PROVIDENCE. 151
Man is the world's high-priest :l he doth present
The sacrifice for all ; while they below
Unto the service mutter an assent, 15
Such as springs use thatfall, and windes that blow.
He that to praise and laud Thee doth refrain,
Doth not refrain unto himself alone,
But robs a thousand who would praise Thee fain,
And doth commit a world of sinne in one. 20
The beasts say, ' Eat me ; ' but if beasts must teach,
The tongue is yours to eat, but mine to praise :
The trees say, ' Pull me ;' but the hand you stretch
Is mine to write, as it is yours to raise.
Wherefore, most sacred Spirit, I here present, 25
For me and all my fellows, praise to Thee ;
And just it is that I should pay the rent,
Because the benefit accrues to me.
We all acknowledge both Thy power and love
To be exact, transcendent, and divine ; 30
Who dost so strongly and so sweetly move,
While all things have their will, yet none but Thine.
For either Thy command or Thy permission
Lay hands on all ; they are Thy right and left :
The first puts on with speed and expedition ; 35
The other curbs Sinne's stealing pace and theft.
Nothing escapes them both ; all must appeare,
And be dispos'd, and dress'd, and tun'd by Thee,
Who sweetly temper'st all. If we could heare
Thy skill and art, what musick would it be ! 40
1 See the Memoir, «s before, for Leighton's reference to this
plmce.
152 THE TEMPLE.
I
Thou art in small things great, not small in any ; l
Thy even praise2 can neither rise nor fall;
Thou art in all things one, in each thing many ;
For Thou art infinite in one and all.
Tempests are calm to Thee ; they know Thy hand,
And hold it fast, as children do their father's, 46
Which crie and follow : Thou hast made poore sand 3
Check the proud sea, ev'n when it swells and I
gathers.
Thy cupboard serves the world : the meat is set
Where all may reach ; no beast but knows his feed :
Birds teach us hawking ; fishes have their net ;4 51 I
The great prey on the lesse, they on some weed.
Nothing ingender'd doth prevent his meat ;
Plies have their table spread ere they appeare ;
Some creatures have in winter what to eat ; 55 I
Others do sleep, and envie not their cheer.
How finely dost Thou times and seasons spin,
And make a twist checker'd with night and day,
Which, as it lengthens, windes and windes us in,-
As bouls go on, but turning all the way ! 60
Each creature hath a wisdome for his good :
The pigeons feed their tender offspring, crying
When they are callow,5 but withdraw their food
When they are fledged, that need may teach them
flying.
1 Ll. 41-44. So Pliny ( " N. H." li. c. 2), " Rerum Natura nus-
qnam magis qnam in minirais tota est."
3 = Praise evening, or equal to, Thy deserts.
3 See the longer Notes and Illustrations (ee), as before.
4 It is clear from the context, the last half of 1. 50, by 'birds'
teaching us hawking, that he meaus to say now, flsh teach us fishing,
their nets being their wide mouths. Donne says something like this
of the whale's mouth in " Progress of the Soule," 1. 331, &c. The
whale was then deemed a fish.
6 Here ' fledged ' explains its sense, which is ' bare," and thence
secondarily, from the softness of the down of the unfledged
' soft.' Cf. on 59. " Vanitie," 1. 17.
PROVIDENCE. 153
Bees work for man ; and yet they never bruise 65
Their master's flow'r, but leave it, having done,
As fair as ever and as fit to use ;
So both the flow'r doth stay and hony run.
Sheep eat the grasse, and dung the ground for
more;
Trees after bearing drop their leaves for soil ; 70
Springs vent their streams,1 and by expense get
store ;
Clouds cool by heat, and baths by cooling boil.
Who hath the vertue to expresse the rare
And curious vertues both of herbs and stones ?
Is there an herb for that? O that Thy care 75
Would show a root that gives expressions !
And if an herb hath power, what hath the starres ?
A rose, besides his beautie, is a cure :
Doubtlesse our plagues and plentie, peace and
warres,
Are there much surer then our art2 is sure. 80
Thou hast hid metals : man may take them thence,
But at his perill ; when he digs the place
He makes a grave ; as if the thing had sense,
And threaten'd man that he should fill the space.
Ev'n poysons3 praise Thee: should a thing be lost?
Should creatures want, for want of heed, their due ?
1 In accord with the old philosophy that' streams ran into the sea,
•nd thence returned to their spring-head by hidden ways in the
earth, when, by percolation, the waters were drained of their
saltness. See f«H Note, s. r. in my edition of Southwell.
1 Reads rather like a belief in astrology, and an apology for its
shortcomings through the imperfection of onr knowledge. There is
a strange proverb in Herbert's " Jacula Prudentnm : " Astrology
is true, bnt the astrologers cannot find it."
' Secondarily, he may mean, because the neighbourhood of their
antidote (a favourite belief in olden times) shows the goodness of
Providence : but primarily, judging from the succeeding line and a
154 THE TEMPLE.
Since where are poysons antidots are most;
The help stands close, and keeps the fear in view.
The sea, which seems to stop the traveller,
Is by a ship the speedier passage made ; 90
The windes,1 who think they rale the mariner,
Are rul'd by him, and taught to serve his trade.
And as Thy house is full, so I adore
Thy curious art in marshalling Thy goods.
The hills with health abound, the vales with store ;
The South with marble ; North with furres aud
woods. 96
Hard things are glorious, easie things good cheap ;2
The common all men have ; that which is rare
Men therefore seek to have, and care to keep.
The heal thy frosts with Summer-fruits compare. ioo
Light without winde is glasse ; warm without
weight
Iswooll and furres; cool without closenesse, shade;
Speed without pains, a horse ; tall without height,
A servile hawk ; low without losse, a spade.
All countries have enough to serve their need : 105
If they seek fine things, Thou dost make them run.
For their offence, and then dost turn their speed
To be commerce and trade from suiine to sunne.
Nothing wears clothes but man ; nothing doth need
But he to wear them ; nothing useth fire 1 10
But man alone, to show his heav'nly breed ;
And ouely he hath fuell in desire.
half, by their curative effects when used medicinally. He may also
have thought of this, that what poisons a man or other animal is
sometimes food for another — a piece of knowledge eiulxrlird in the
proverb, " What is one man's meat is another man's poison."
1 See the longer Notes and Illustrations (ff.), as before.
3 = pass at a cheap or less rate ; are Ian niarcki.
PROVIDENCE. 155
When th' earth was dry, Thou mad'st a sea of wet;
When that lay gather'd, Thou didst broach1 the
mountains ;
When yet some places could no moisture get,
The windes grew gard'ners, and the clouds good
fountains. 1 1 6
Rain, do not hurt my flowers, bu,t gently spend
Your hony-drops :2 presse not to smell them here;
When they are ripe, their odour will ascend,
And at your lodging with their thanks appeare. i ao
How harsh are thorns to pears ! and yet they make
A better hedge, and need lesse reparation.
How smooth are silks compared with a stake
Or with a stone ! yet make no good foundation.
Sometimes Thou dost divide Thy gifts to man, 125
Sometimes unite ; the Indian nut alone
Is clothing, meat and trencher, drink and can,
Boat, cable, sail, and needle, all in one.
Most herbs that grow in brooks are hot and dry,
Cold fruits' warm kernells help against the winde;
The lemmon's juice and rinde cure mutually; 131
The whey3 of milk doth loose, the milk doth binde.
Thy creatures leap not,4 but expresse a feast,
Where all the guests sit close, and nothing wants :
Fro^s marry fish andflesh; bats.birdand beast; 135
Sponges, non-sense and sense; mines, th' earth
and plants.
* = to tap. Still in common use.
1 So in Vanghan's " Rainbow -." " Rain gently spends his honey
drops " (F. W. L. edn. of his works).
* See Latin Poems.
4 Created things are as a linked chain, not each kind separate,
with gaps between. Mines, he says, unite earth and plants (1. 136),
because it was, and with many is, a belief that ores grow. Rocks
known by experience to be present when a vein is 'productive' or
contains ore are still spoken of in mining language as ore-producing
or ore-bearing rocks.
156 THE TEMPLE.
To show Thou art not bound, as if Thy lot
Were worse then ours, sometimes Thou shiftest
hands :l
Most things move th' under-jaw, the crocodile not ;
Most things sleep lying, th' elephant leans or
stands.2 140
But who hath praise enough ? nay, who hath any ?
None can expresse Thy works but he that knows
them ;
And none can know Thy works, which are so many
And so complete, but onely He that owes them.
All things that are, though they have sev'rall
waves, 145
Yet in their being joyn with one advise
To honour Thee ; and so I give Thee praise
In all my other hymnes, but in this twice.3
Each thing that is, although in use and name
It go for one, hath many wayes in store 1 50
To honour Thee ; and so each hymne Thy fame
Extolleth many wayes, yet this one more.
1 The allusion is probably to the monkeys of America, whose
thumbs are opposable only in the hinder limbs. But the thought
thus quaintly figured is, That God sometimes alters the method of
His acting.
* That a crocodile should be thought to move his upper jaw is an
error of observation, easily understood when we look to the sniitll
nut head and large lower jaw ; and to this, that he must generally
elevate and bend back the head to gape at width. That the lower
jaw was stationary is a super-added theory. The kindred theory that
the elephant had no knee-joints and could not lie down seeing to have
been of mediaeval origin, and it is curious to find it believe<l
many not of the vulgar, considering thut it was contradicted by the
testimony of classical writers, and by the exhibition of at least one
elephant in Herbert's time.
3 = he praises God his own ways, and in this hymn yet another
way, by declaring and joining in the universal praise of all n •>
The same thought is contained in and explains the subsequent lines.
157
91. If HOPE.*
GAVE to Hope a watch of mine ; but he
An anchor gave to me.
Then an old Prayer-book I did present ;
And he an optick sent.
With that I gave a vial full of tears ; 5
But he, a few green eares.
Ah, loyterer ! I'le no more, no more I'le bring :
I did erpect a ring.
92. f SINNE'S BOUND.2
[ORRIE I am, my God, some I am
That my offences course it in a ring.
My thoughts are working like a basic
flame,
Until their cockatrice 3 they hatch and bring : 4
And when they once have perfected their draughts,
My words take fire from my inflamed thoughts.
My words take fire from my inflamed thoughts,
Which spit it forth like the Sicilian hill ;4
They vent the wares, and passe them with their
faults,
And by their breathing ventilate the ill ; 10
1 See the longer Notes and Illustrations (yg) on this curious little
poem of "Hope."
* Here again, as a conceit in accordance with the thought, these
verses form a corona, or round, each stanza commencing with the
last line of the preceding, and the last line of all being the game as
the llrst. Cf. Note on 1. " The Altar."
' See the longer Notes and Illustrations (AA), as before. * Aetna.
158 THE TEMPLE.
But words suffice not; where are lewd1 intentions,
My hands do joyn to finish the inventions.
My hands do joyn to finish the inventions,
And so my sinnes ascend three stories high,
As Babel grew before there were dissentions. 1 5
Yet ill deeds loyter not ; for they supplie
New thoughts of sinning: wherefore, to my shame,
Sorrie I am, my God, sorrie I am
93. f TIME.
[EETING with Time, ' Slack thing,'
said I,
' Thy sithe is dull ; whet it, for shame.'
' No marvell, sir,' he did replie,
' If it at length deserve some blame ;
But where one man would have me grinde it, 5
Twentie for one too sharp do finde it.'
' Perhaps some such of old did passe,
Who above all things lov'd this life;
To whom thy sithe a hatchet was,
Which now is but a pruning-knife. 10
Christ's coming hath made man thy debtor,
Since by thy cutting he grows better.
And in his blessing thou art blest ;
For where thou onely wert before
An executioner at best, 15
Thou art a gard'ner now ; and more,
An usher to convey our souls
Beyond the utmost starres and poles.
1 — licentions, vile.
GRATEFULNESSE. 159
And this is that1 makes life so long,
While it detains us from our God ; ^o
Ev'n pleasures here increase the wrong,
And length of dayes lengthens the rod.
Who wants2 the place where God doth dwell,
Partakes already half of hell.
Of what strange length must that needs be 25
Which ev'n eteruitie excludes !'
Thus farre Time heard me patiently;
Then chafing said : ' This man deludes ;
What do I here before his doore ?
He doth not crave lesse time, but more.' 30
94. GRATEFULNESSE.
that hast giv'n so much to me,
Give one thing more, a gratefull heart:
See how Thy beggar works on Thee
By art :
He makes Thy gifts occasion more, 5
Aud sayes, if he in this be crost,
All Thou hast given him heretofore
Is lost.
But Thou didst reckon, when at first
Thy word our hearts and hands did crave, 10
What it would come to at the worst
To save.
1 i.e. the fact that our souls will be conveyed as above— this ante-
eedent being, as often in old writers, not foi mally expressed in words,
but implied in them.
s = lacks.
* In 1633-3 and onward "O." Either the " O" is wrong, or we must
•can "that bust piv'n " as one foot or two syllables — a form not
occurrent in Herbert elsewhere. I have omitted it, and read, uot " O
Thon," but simply " Thon."
160 THE TEMPLE.
Perpetnall knockings at Thy doore,
Tears sullying Thy transparent rooms,
Gift upon gift ; much would have more,
And comes.
This notwithstanding, Thou went'st on,
And didst allow us all our noise ;
Nay, Thou hast made a sigh and grone
Thy joyes.
Not that Thou hast not still above
Much better tunes then grones can make,
But that these countrey-aires Thy love
Did take.1
Wherefore I crie, and crie again,
And in no quiet canst Thou be,
Till I a thankfull heart obtain
Of Thee.
Not thankfull when it pleaseth me,
As if Thy blessings had spare dayes ;
But such a heart whose pulse may be
Thy praise.
95. T PEACE.
Peace, where dost thou dwell,
I humbly crave P
Let me once know.
I sought thee in a secret cave,
And ask'd if Peace were there.
A hollow winde did seem to answer, ' No ;
Go seek elsewhere.'
1 = captivate.
PEACE. 161
I did ; and going did a rainbow note :
Surely, thought I,
This is the lace of Peace's coat :
I will search out the matter. 10
But while I lookt, the clouds immediately
Did break and scatter.
Then went I to a garden, and did spy
A gallant flower,
The Crown Imperiall.1 Sure, said I, 15
Peace at the root must dwell.
But when I digg'd, I saw a worme devoure
What show'd so well.
At length I met a rev'rend good old man,
Whom when for Peace 20
I did demand, he thus began :
1 There was a Prince of old
At Salem dwelt, Who liv'd with good increase
Of flock and fold.
He sweetly liv'd ; yet sweetnesse did not save 25
His life from foes.
But after death out of His grave
There sprang twelve stalks of wheat ;
Which many wond'ring at, got some of those
To plant and set. 30
It prosper'd strangely, and did soon disperse
Through all the earth ;
For they that taste it do rehearse
That vertue lies therein ;
A secret vertue, bringing peace and mirth 35
By flight of sinne.
1 The flower with that name. Cowley, in his " Hymn to Light,"
hai a beautiful allusion to it : —
" A crimson pirment in the rose thou wear'st ;
A crown of studded gold thon bear'st ;
The virgin lilies in their white
Are clad bat with the lawn of almost naked light."— WILLMOTT.
M
162 THE TEMPLE.
Take of this grain, which in my garden grows,
And grows for you ;
Make bread of it ; and that repose
And peace, which ev'ry where 40
With so much earnestnesse you do pursue,
Is onely there.
96. f CONFESSION.
WHAT a cunning guest
Is this same grief ! within my heart I
made
Closets, and in them many a chest ;
And like a master in my trade,
In those chests, boxes ; in each box a till.1 5
Yet Grief knows all, and enters when he will.
No scrue, no piercer can
Into a piece of timber worke and wiude
As God's afflictions into man,
When He a torture hath design 'd ;
They are too subtill for the subt'llest hearts,
And fall like rheumes upon the tendrest parts.
We are the earth ; and they,
Like moles within us, heave and cast about ;
And till they foot2 and clutch their prey,
They never cool, much lesse give out.
No smith can make such locks but they have keye
Closets are halls to them, and hearts high-waye
1 = money-drawers.
9 To ' foot' it, is to walk. Here it seems to mean to get on the
footsteps or track of.
GIDDINESSE. 163
Onely an open breast
Doth shut them out, so that they cannot enter ; 20
Or if they enter, cannot rest,
But quickly seek some new adventure :
Smooth open hearts no fastning have ; but fiction
Doth give a hold and handle to affliction. 24.
Wherefore my faults and sinnes,
Lord, I acknowledge ; take Thy plagues away :
For since confession pardon winnes,
I challenge here the brightest day,
The clearest diamond ; let them do their best,
They shall be thick and cloudie to my breast. 30
97. f GIDDINESSE.
H, what a thing is man ! how farre
from power,
From settled peace and rest !
He is some twentie sev'rall men at least
Each sev'rall houre.
One while he counts of heav'n, as of his treasure ;
But then a thought creeps in, 6
And calls him coward, who for fear of sinne
Will lose a pleasure.
Now he will fight it out, and to the warres ;
Now eat his bread in peace, 10
And snudge1 in quiet ; now he scorns increase,
Now all day spares.
He builds a house, which quickly down must go,
As if a whirlwinde blew
And crusht the building; and it's partly true 15
His minde is so.
1 See the longer Notes and Illustrations (ii), as before.
164 THE TEMPLE.
0, what a sight were man, if his attires
Did alter with his minde,
And, like a dolphin's skinne,1 his clothes combin'd
With his desires ! 2 20
purely if each one saw another's heart,
There would be no commerce,
No sale or bargain passe ; all would disperse
And live apart.
Lord, mend, or rather make us ; one creation 25
Will not suffice our turn :
Except Thou make us dayly, we shall spurn
Our own salvation.
98. f THE BUNCH OF GRAPES.
[OY, I did lock thee up, but some bad
man
Hath let thee out again ;
And now, methinks, I am where I
began
Sev'n years ago : one vogue3 and vein,
One aire of thoughts usurps my brain. 5
I did toward Canaan draw, but now I am
Brought back to the Red Sea, the sea of shame.
1 Not the sea-mammal, the porpoise, or Delphinns, that oarri
Arion and others (Pliny, " N. H." lix. c. 8), bnt the fish Coryphee:
hippuris, whose brilliant hues show variously during his swift cou
and hendings, and whose colours, still remaining brilliant, chat
and vary in hue when, taken out of the water, it is allowed to d
a If his outward appearance changed like his mind, and as o
— WILLMOTT. Bnt the belief that the dolphin changed its e?,
according to its desire is erroneous, nor do I know where Herbert]
found it. The chameleon may, perhaps, do so.
3 Properly free course of a vessel with a fair wind and open seal
when not constrained by the wind to a particular line, but goinjij
free, and able to alter its direction. Hence secondarily sway, au-j
thority (the action expressed in swaying a sceptre illustrating the)
similar senses in which sway is used). Afterwards the esteem.f
THE BUNCH OF GRAPES. 165
For as the Jews of old by God's command
Travell'd and saw no town,
So now each Christian hath his journeys spann'd;1
Their stone pennes and sets us down. 1 1
A single deed is small renown ;
God's works are wide, and let in future times ;
His ancient justice overflows our crimes.
Then have we too our guardian fires and clouds,
Our Scripture-dew drops fast ; 16
We have our sands and serpents, tents and
shrowds ;
Alas, our murmurings come not last !
But where's the cluster ? where's the taste
Of mine inheritance ? Lord, if I must borrow, 20
Let me as well take up their joy as sorrow.
But can he want the grape who hath the wine?
I have their fruit and more.
Blessed be God, Who prosper'd Noah's vine,
And made it bring forth grapes, good store :
But much more Him I must adore 26
Who of the Law's sowre juice sweet wine did make,
Ev'ri God Himself being pressed for my sake.
estimation, or credit which anything had by common or general con-
sent, as a fashion in vogue. Latterly — and later than Herberts
time — it has been used as nearly synonymous with fashion. Here it
is used as = a free course- with full sail ; and hence ' aire ' in 1. 5.
1 -T measured out. The usual punctuation of a period (.) after
renown obscures the meaning. Herbert says a deed that is single,
and without consequences, is of small renown : but God's works are
•ot so ; they are wide, and are types bearing the future within
themselves. Hence I place a semi-colon (;) only, and perhaps a
comma (,) had been better still.
166 THE TEMPLE.
99. IT LOVE-UNKNOWN.
; EABE friend, sit down ; the tale is long
and sad;
And in my faintings I presume your
love
Will more complie then help : — a Lord I had,
And have, of Whom some grounds, which may
improve,
I hold for two lives, and both lives in me. 5
To Him I brought a dish of fruit one day,
And in the middle plac'd my heart. But He,
I sigh to say,
Lookt on a servant, who did know His eye
Better then you know me, or, which is one, 10
Then I, myself. The servant instantly
Quitting the fruit, seiz'd on my heart alone,
And threw it in a font, wherein did fall
A stream of bloud, which issu'd from the side
Of a great rock : — I well remember all, 1 5
And have good cause: — there it was dipt and dy'd,
And washt and wrung ; the very wringing yet
Enforceth tears. ' Your heart was foul, I fear.'
Indeed 'tis true : I did and do commit
Many a fault more then my lease will bear : 20
Yet still askt pardon, and was not deni'd.
But you shall heare. After my heart was well,
And clean and fair, as I one even-tide,
I sigh to tell,
Walkt by myself abroad, I saw a large zS
And spacious fornace flaming, and thereon
A boyling caldron, round about whose verge
Was in great letters set ' Affliction.'
The greatnesse shew'd the owner. So I went
LOVE-UNKNOWN. 167
To fetch a sacrifice out of my fold, 30
Thinking with that which I did thus present
To warm His love, which I did fear grew cold.
But as my heart did tender it, the man
Who was to take it from me, slipt his hand,
And threw my heart into the scalding pan ; 35
My heart that brought it (do you understand?),
The offerer's heart. ' Your heart was hard, I fear.'
Indeed 'tis true. I found a callous matter
Began to spread and to expatiate l there :
But with a richer drug fhen scalding water 40
I bath'd it often, ev'n with holy bloud,
"Which at a board, while many drank bare wine,
A friend did steal into my cup for good,
Ev'n taken inwardly, and most divine
To supple hardnesses. But at the length 45
Out of the caldron getting, soon I fled
Unto my house, where, to repair the strength
Which I had lost, I hasted to my bed :
But when I thought to sleep out all these faults,
I sigh to speak, 50
I found that some had stuff 'd the bed with thoughts,
I would say thorns. Deare, could my heart not
break,
When with my pleasures ev'n my rest was gone ?
Full well I understood who had been there,
For I had giv'n the key to none but one : 55
It must be He. ' Tour heart was dull, I fear.'
Indeed a slack and sleepie state of minde
Did oft possesse me ; so that when I pray'd,
Though my lips went, my heart did stay behinde.
But all my scores were by another paid, 60
Who took the debt upon Him. ' Truly, friend,
1 An example of an idiomatic tantologic usage, much seen in onr
older writers (Shakespeare included), of using synonyms derived from
the different languages of which our own is formed. Here, by
reason of the ex = abroad, the Latiuate word is a little the stronger.
168 THE TEMPLE.
For ought I heare, your Master shows to you
More favour then you wot of.' Mark the end.
The Font did onely what was old renew ;
The Caldron suppled what was grown too hard ; 65
The Thorns did quicken what was grown too dull :
All did but strive to mend what you had marr'd.
Wherefore be cheer'd, and praise Him to the full
Each day, each houre, each moment of the week, 69
Who fain would have you be new, tender, quick.1
100. f MAN'S MEDLEY.
JEAEK how the birds do sing,
And woods do ring :
All creatures have their joy, and man
hath his.
Yet if we rightly measure,
Man's joy and pleasure 5
Bather hereafter then in present is.
To this life things of sense
Make their pretence ;
In th' other angels have a right by birth :
Man ties them both alone, 10
And makes them one,
th' one hand touching heav'n, with th' other
earth.
soul he mounts and flies,
In flesh he dies ; 14
He wears a stufle whose thread is course and round,
But trimm'd with curious lace,
And should take place
After2 the trimming, not the stufle and ground.
1 In opposition to 'dull' (1. 66); but Herbert makes use of its
double sense to imply the deeper sense of living — in Christ.
3 — according to.
MAN'S MEDLEY. 169
Not that he may not here
Taste of the cheer ; 20
But as birds drink, and straight lift up their head,
So must he sip and think
Of better drink
He may attain to after he is dead.
But as his joyes are double, 25
So is his trouble :
He hath two winters, other things but one ;
Both frosts and thoughts do nip
And bite his lip ;
And he of all things fears two deaths alone. 30
Yet ev'n the greatest griefs
May be reliefs,
Could he but take them right and in their wayes.
Happie is he whose heart
Hath found the art 35
To turn his double pains to double praise.
101. If THE STOKM.
' F as the windes and waters here below
Do die and flow,
My sighs and tears as busie were above,
Sure they would move
And much affect Thee, as tempestuous times 5
Amaze poore mortals, and object1 their crimes.
Starres have their storms 2 ev'n in a high degree,
As well as we :
A throbbing conscience spurred by remorse
Hath a strange force ; 10
•
1 — cast before them.
' The allusion seems to be to meteor-showers ; but it is more diffi-
cult, perhaps, to understand why this and the next line are, as it were,
interpolated here. The com-eii is, that as there are storms in
170 THE TEMPLE.
It quits the earth, and mounting more and more,
Dares to assault Thee, and besiege Thy doore.
There it stands knocking, to Thy musick's wrong,
And drowns the song:
Glorie and honour are set by till it 1 5
An answer get.
Poets have wrong'd poore storms : such dayes are
best,
They purge the aire without ; within, the breast.
102. ^[ PAEADISE.
BLESSE Thee, Lord, because I GROW
Among Thy trees, which in a ROW
To Thee both fruit and order ow.
What open force or hidden CHARM
Can blast my fruit, or bring me HARM,
While the inclosure is Thine ARM ?
Inclose me still, for fear I START ;
Be to me rather sharp and TART
Then let me want Thy hand and ART.
When Thou dost greater judgements SPARE,
And with Thy knife but prune and PARE,
Ev'n fruitful trees more fruitfull ARE :
Such sharpnes shows the sweetest FREND,
Such cuttings rather heal then REND,
And such beginnings touch their END.
heavenly places, so onr forceful storms, meeting not with a contrary !
region, bat with one of like character, are able to ascend to Heaven's
doors.
171
103. f THE METHOD.
00 RE heart, lament;
For since thy God refuseth still,
There is some rub,1 some discontent,
Which cools His will.
Thy Father could 5
Quickly effect what thou dost move,*
For He is Power ; and sure He would,
For He is Love.
Go search this thing,
Tumble thy breast, and turn thy book .- 10
If thou hadst lost a glove or ring,
Wouldst thou not look ?
What do I see
Written above there ? ' Yesterday
I did behave me carelessly 15
When I did pray.'
And should God's eare
To such indifferents 3 chained be,
Who do not their own motions heare P
Is God lesse free ? ao
But stay ! — what's there ?
4 Late when I would have something done
I had a motion to forbear,
Yet I went on.'
And should God's eare, 25
Which needs not man, be ty'd to those
Who heare not Him, but quickly heare
His utter foes ?
1 Hindrance.
1 Used morh as it is in Parliament, Ac. So • motion ' is used
further on (11. 19 and 33).
* " careless ones.
172 THE TEMPLE.
Then once more pray :
Down with thy knees, up with thy voice ; 30
Seek pardon first, and God will say,
' Glad heart, rejoyce.'
104. ^ DIVINITIE.
men, for fear the starres should sleep
and nod
And trip at night, have spheres
suppli'd, —
As if a starre were duller then a clod,
Which knows his way without a guide, —
Just so the other heav'n they also serve,
Divinitie's transcendent skie,
Which with the edge of wit they cut and carve :
Eeason triumphs, and Faith lies by.
Could not that wisdome, which first broacht the
wine,
Have thicken'd it with definitions P 10
And jagg'd His seamlesse coat, had that been fine,1
With curious questions and divisions ?
But all the doctrine which He taught and gave
Was cleare as heav'n, from whence it came ;
At least those beams of truth, which onely save,
Surpasse in brightnesse any flame. 16
' Love God ' and ' Love your neighbour,' « Watch
and pray,'
' Do as you would be done unto ; '
O dark instructions, ev'n as dark as day !
Who can these Gordian knots undo ! 20
1 = had it been a fashionably cat garment. The metaphor wag
Bngpegted, no donbt, by the quaintly carved, cut, slashed, and jiuiied
dresses of Herbert's time.
GRIEVE NOT THE HOLT SPIRIT. 173
' But He doth bid us take His bloud for wine.'
Bid what He please ; yet I am sure,
To take and taste what He doth there designe
Is all that saves, and not obscure.
Then burn thy epicycles,1 foolish man, 25
Break all thy spheres, and save thy head ;
Faith needs no stafie of flesh, but stoutly can
To heav'n alone both go and leade.
105. f GEIEVE NOT THE HOLY SPIBIT.
Ephea. iv. 30.
art Thou grieved, sweet and sacred
Dove,
When I am sowre,
And crosse Thy love ?
Grieved for me ? the God of strength and power
Griev'd for a worm, which, when I tread, 5
I passe away and leave it dead ?
Then weep, mine eyes, the God of love doth grieve ;
Weep, foolish heart,
And weeping live ;
For death is drie as dust. Yet if ye part i
End as the night, whose sable hue
Your sinnes expresse, melt into dew.
1 See note on 146. " The Foil." 1. 2. In the Ptolemaic astronomy,
when it was found that the movement in circles would not accord
with the observed positions of the planets, and as the circle, as the
only supposedly perfect curve, was obliged to be retained, epicycles—
circles upon or within the original circles — were added and super-
added, to keep the earth-standing and sphere-c'ircling theory in
agreement with the more and more correct observations that were
made. On 1. 21 Coleridge annotates : " Nay, the contrary ; take
wine to be blood and the blood of a man who died 1800 years ago.
THis is the faith which even the Church of England demands ; For
Consnbstantiation only adds a mystery to that of Transubstantiation,
which it implies."
174 THE TEMPLE.
When sawcie Mirth shall knock or call at doore,
Cry out, ' Get hence,
Or cry no more ! ' i <
Almightie God doth grieve, He puts on sense ;
I sinne not to my grief alone,
But to my God's too ; He doth grone.
0, take thy lute, and tune it to a strain
Which may with thee 21
All day complain;
There can no discord but in ceasing be.
Marble can weep, and surely strings
More bowels have then such hard things.
Lord, I adjudge myself to tears and grief, 25
Ev'n endlesse tears
Without relief;
If a cleare spring for me no time forbears,
But runnes, although I be not drie —
I am no crystall1 — what shall I ?
Yet if I wail not still, since still to wail
Nature denies,
And flesh would fail ;
If my deserts were masters of mine eyes, —
Lord, pardon, for Thy Sonne makes good 55
My want of tears with store of bloud.
1 The conceit is based on the ' clear stream.' If a clear stream,,
which typifies purity, and sin washed away, run continually, wh>
should not I, muddied with sin, run more continuously, that as I
stream in its course cleanses itself, so may I ? This poem is set tc
music by J. Blow, in " Harmonia Sacra."
175
106. If THE PAMILIE.
HAT doth this noise l of thoughts within
my heart,
As if they had a part ?
What do these loud2 complaints and
pulling fears,
As if there were no rule or eares ?
But, Lord, the house and familie are Thine, 5
Though some of them repine ;
Turn out these wranglers, which defile Thy seat,
For where Thou dwellest all is neat.3
First Peace and Silence all disputes controll,
Then Order plaies4 the soul ; 10
And giving all things their set forms and houres,
Makes of wilde woods sweet walks and bowres.
Humble Obedience neare the doore doth stand,
Expecting a command ;
Then whom in waiting nothing seems more slow, 1 5
Nothing more quick when she doth go.
Joyes oft are there, and griefs as oft as joyes ;
But griefs without a noise :
Yet speak they louder then distemper'd fears ;
What is so shrill5 as silent tears ? 20
1 As shown by ' part,' the word is here used in its then sense of a
let or company of musicians ; e.g. Sneak's noise (Shakespeare) or
Rupert's noise, meant Sneak's or Rnpert's set of players or band.
" 1' Henry IV." ii. 4. Cf. 144, • Aaron.' 1. 8.
* ' Lond ' and the rest of the context show that ' pulling ' is
— puling. * = pure.
* •= acts as, takes the part of the soul, and like it regulates the
whole commonwealth of man. Cf. " The Chnrth Porch," St. Ixvtti.
" Play the man."
s Clear speaking without harshness : so we read of the waking of
Adam from sleep :
" Which the only sound
Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan.
Lightly dispersed ; and the shrill matin song
Of birds on every bough " {P. L. \. (5) — WILLMOTT.
THE TEMPLE.
This is Thy house, with these it doth abound ;
And where these are not found
Perhaps Thou com'st sometimes, and for a day ;
But not to make a constant Btay.
107. f THE SIZE.
CONTENT thee, greedie heart;
Modest and moderate joyea to those
that have
Title to more hereafter when they part
Are passing brave.
Let th' upper springs into the low 5
Descend and fall, and thou dost flow.
What though some have a fraught
Of cloves and nutmegs, and in cinnamon sail ?
If thou hast wherewithall to spice a draught
When griefs prevail, 10.
• And, for the future time, art heir
To th' Isle of spices, is't not fair ?
To be in both worlds full
Is more then God was, Who was hungrie here.
Wouldst thou His laws of feasting disauull; 15
Enact good cheer ?
Lay out thy joy, yet hope to save it ?
Wouldst thou both eat thy cake, and have it ?
Great joyes are all at once ;
But little do reserve themselves for more : 20
Those have their hopes, these what they have re-
nounce,
And live on score ;
Those are at home ; these journey still,
And meet the rest on Sion's hill.
THE SIZE. 177
Thy Saviour sentenc'd joy, 45
, And in the flesh condemn'd it as unfit ;
At least in lump, for such doth oft destroy ;
Whereas a bit
Doth 'tice us on to hopes of more,
And for the present, health restore. 30
A Christian's state and case
Is not a corpulent, but a thinne and spare,
Yet active strength ; whose long and bonie face
Content and care
Do seem to equally divide, 35
Like a pretender, not a bride.
Wherefore sit down, good heart ;
Grasp not at much, for fear thou losest all.
If comforts fell according to desert, —
Did at all times fall;1 40
They would great frosts2 and snows destroy :
For we should count, — Since the last joy.
Then close again the seam
Which thou hast open'd ;3 do not spread thy robe
In hope of great things. Call to minde thy dream,
An earthly globe, 46
On whose meridian was engraven,
' These seas are tears, and Heav'n the haven.'
1 I insert a missing line, which, curiously enough, has not been
observed, as wanted to rhyme with " all " (1. 38). In the MS. of
" The Temple " mentioned in the Preface, the lines run :
.... Grasp not at much, lest tbou lose ail ;
If comforts after our desert
Upon us at all times should fall, &c.
1 Probably suggested by some great frost. There was a very
great and destructive one in 1614, which would be remembered for
some years and "counted from." By the last lines, Herbert is
•peaking of himself and his feelings, not generally; and here,
believing like David in his Christian integrity, and yet cast down, he
lays, " Content yourself, my heart ; if God's rule were comfort on
earth according to desert, then would my frosts and snows have
vanished ; but it is not so."
* — as a pocket.
N
178
THE TEMPLE.
108. If ABTILLERIE.1
S I one ev'ning sat before my cell,
Me thought a starre did shoot into my
lap.
I rose, and shook my clothes, as know-
ing well
That from small fires comes oft no small mishap ;
When suddenly I heard one say, 5
' Do as thou usest, disobey,
Expell good motions from thy breast,
Which have the face of fire, but end in rest.'
I, who had heard of musick in the spheres,
But not of speech in starres, began to muse , 10
But turning to my God, Whose ministers
The starres and all things are : ' If I refuse,
Dread Lord,' said I, ' so oft my good,
Then I refuse not ev'n with bloud
To wash away my stubborn thought ; 1 5
For I will do, or suffer what I ought.'
But I have also starres and shooters too,
Born where Thy servants both artilleries use :
My tears and prayers night and day do woo,
And work up to Thee ; yet Thou dost refuse.
Not but I am (I must say still)
Much more oblig'd to do Thy will
Than Thou to grant mine ; but because
Thy promise now hath ev'n set Thee Thy laws.
Then we are shooters both, and Thou dost deij
To enter combate with us, and contest
With Thine own clay. But I would parley2
Shunne not my arrows, and behold my breast.
1 Cf. Latin Poems.
* ' Parley' here and 'articling' (1. 31) r.re both military terms
the M nil cannot surrender on articles of capitulation.
CHURCH-RENTS OR SCHISMES. 179
Yet if Thou shunnest, I am Thine,
I must be so, if I am mine : — 30
There is no articling with Thee ;
I am but finite, — yet Thine infinitely.
109. CHUECH-EENTS OE SCHISMES.
j^EAVE rose, alas, where art thou ? In
the chair
Where thou didst lately so triumph
and shine,1
A worm doth sit, whose many feet and hair
Are the more foul, the more thou wert divine.
This, this hath done it, this did bite the root 5
And bottome of the leaves ; which when the winde
)id once perceive, it blew them under foot,
RThere rude unhallow'd steps do crush and grinde
Their beauteous glories. Onely shreds of thee,
And those all bitten, in thy chair I see. 10
Why doth my Mother blush P is she the rose,
And shows it so ? Indeed Christ's precious bloud
Save you a colour once ; which when your foes
Thought to let out, the bleeding did you good,
And made you look much fresher then before. 1 5
But when debates and fretting jealousies
Did worm and work within you more and more,
Your colour faded, and calamities
Turned your ruddie into pale and bleak,
Your health and beautie both began to break, zo
Then did your sev'rall parts unloose and start ;
Which when your neighbours saw, like a north-
win de
They rushed in, and cast them in the dirt,
Where Pagans tread. 0 Mother deare and kindu,
1 s. of Sol. u.i.
180
THE TEMPLE.
Where shall I get me eyes enough to weep — 25
As many eyes as starres ! since it is night,
And much of Asia and Europe fast asleep,
And ev'n all Africk : would at least I might
"With these two poore ones lick up all the dew,
Which falls by night, and poure it out for
you ! 30
110. f JUSTICE.
DBEADFULL justice, what a fright
and terrour
Wast thou of old,
When Sinne and Errour
Did show and shape thy looks to me,
And through their glasse discolour thee !
He that did but look up was proud and bold.
The dishes1. of thy balance seem'd to gape,
Like two great pits ;
The beam and 'scape2
Did like some tort'ring3 engine show :
Thy hand above did burn and glow,
Daunting the stoutest hearts, the proudest witfc.]
But now that Christ's pure vail presents the sigl
I see no fears :
Thy hand is white,
Thy scales like buckets, which attend
And interchangeably descend,
Lifting to heaven from this well of tears.
1 = scales of the weight-holders.
3 = the upright in the middle of the beam, or that part of it '
is, as it were, an index.
s Usually of late years misprinted 'tottering,' = torturing, 4
in the Williams and Bodleian MSS. 1632-33, £c.
THE PILGRIMAGE. 181
For where before thou still didst call on me,
Now I still touch zo
And harp on thee ;
God's promises hath made thee mine :
Why should I justice now decline ?
Against me there is none, but for me much.
111. f THE PILGRIMAGE.1
TEAVELL'D on, seeing the hill, where
lay
My expectation.
A long it was and weary way :
The gloomy cave of Desperation
I left on th' one, and on the other side 5
The rock of Pride.
And so I came to Phansie's medow strow'd
With many a flower :
Fain would I here have made abode,
But I was quicken'd by my houre. 10
So to Care's cops I came, and there got through
With much ado.
That led me to the wilde of Passion, which
Some call the wold ;2
A wasted place, but sometimes rich. 15
Here I was robb'd of all my gold,
Save one good angell,3 which a friend had ti'd
Close to my side.
1 See the longer Notes and Illustrations (Jf), as befo
* Query, in calling the wild of passion a ' wold' -OUT6,
did H.-rbert characteristically pun on the wold— ^ power
which one willed ? See the Memoir, as before, fo
* » a play on the double meaning of ' angel' Jiy houre,
characteristic equivoques. Whether the angel _ ,• «
*, or any other, each must decide. eiiel. n
182 THE TEMPLE.
At length I got unto the gladsome hill,
Where lay my hope, 20
Where lay my heart ; and climbing still,
When I had gain'd the brow aud top,
A lake of brackish waters on the ground
Was all I found.
With that abash'd and struck with many a sting
Of swarming fears, 26
I fell and cry'd, ' Alas, my King,
Can both the way aud end be tears ? '
Yet taking heart I rose, and then perceiv'd
I was deceiv'd, 30
My hill was further ; so I flung away,
Yet heard a crie,
Just as I went, ' None goes that way
And lives.' ' If that be all,' said I,
' After so foul a journey death is fair,
And but a chair.'
112. H THE HOLDFAST.
THKEATENED to observe the str
decree
Of my deare God with all my po\
and might :
But I was told by one, ' It could not be ;
T • l^ht trust in God to be my light.'
Lifting L
1 I trust,' said I, ' in Him alone.'
I Z^euspr[gVn to trust in Him, was also His :1
is, as it were, an t confesse that nothing is our own.'
' Usually of /> 1 1 » -r-r • <
in the wiifiamifesse that He my succour is.
COMPLAINING. 183
« But to have nought is ours, not to confesse
That we have nought.' I stood amaz'd at
this, i o
Much troubled, till I heard a friend expresse
That all things were more ours by being His :
What Adam had, and forfeited for all,
Christ keepeth now, Who cannot fail or fall.
113. 1T COMPLAINING.
0 not beguile my heart,
Because Thou art
My power and wisdome. Put me not
to shame
Because I am
Thy clay that weeps, Thy dust that calls. 5
Thou art the Lord of glorie ;
The deed and stone
Are both Thy due : but I a silly flie,
That live or die
According as the weather falls. 10
Art Thou all justice, Lord ?
Shows not Thy Word
|More attributes ? Am I all throat or eye,
To weep or crie ?
Have I no parts but those of grief? 1 5
Let not Thy wrathfull power
Afflict my houre,
My inch of life ; or let Thy prracious power
Contract my houre,
That I may climbe and fiude relief. ao
184
THE TEMPLE.
114. T THE DISCHARGE.
USIE enquiring heart, what would'st
thou know ?
Why dost thou prie,
And turn, and leer, and with a licorous l
eye
Look high and low,
And in thy lockings stretch and grow ? 5
Hast thou not made thy counts, and summ'd up
all?
Did not thy heart
Give up the whole, and with the whole depart ?2
Let what will fall,
That which is past who can recall? 10
Thy life is God's, thy time to come is gone,
And is His right.
He is thy night at noon ; 3 He is at night
Thy noon alone ;
The crop is His, for He hath sown. 15
And well it was for thee, when this befell,
That God did make
Thy businesse His, and in thy life partake ;
For thou canst tell,
If it be His once, all is well.
1 Though a lieorons eye may become tempting to one also licoron
its true meaning is not tempting or inviting, and is not and cann
be so here. It is probably from the licking of the lips of men and
animals when slavering and greedy-desirous ; and is metaphorically
applied to the eyes, &c. Lecherous is in fact the same word, but
more confined by present custom to one form of desire.
3 = part with.
3 LI. 13, 14. A simile suggested, probably, by the " pillar of
rlond," thongh the meaning be in part different. He sends crosses
in joy and joy in crosses, darkness in light aud light in darkness, yet
all in love aud guiding.
THE DISCHARGE. 185
Onely the present is thy part and fee ;
And happy thou
If, though thou didst not beat thy future brow,1
Thou could'st well see
What present things requir'd of thee. 25
They ask enough ; why shouldst thon further go ?
Baise not the mudde
Of future depths, but drink the cleare and good :
Dig not for wo
In times to come, for it will grow. 30
Man and the present fit ; if he provide,2
He breaks the square.3
This houre is mine : if for the next I care,
I grow too wide,
And do encroach upon Death's side; 35
For Death each hour environs and surrounds.4
He that would know
And care for future chances cannot go
Unto those grounds 39
But through a churchyard which them bounds.
Things present shrink and die; but they that spend
Their thoughts and sense
On future grief do not remove it thence,
But it extend,
And draw the bottome out an end.5 45
God chains the dog till night ; wilt loose the chain,
And wake thy sorrow ?
1 = beat in perplexity thy brow, endeavouring to forecast the
ftitnre. * = look forwards.
* The reverse of going upon or acting on the square, = acts dis-
loyally, breaks the agreement that the present is his, and the future
his God's.
4 Explained by 11. 33-5.
* = draw it out to the full, or to the dregs. The phrase is taken
from tilting a cask on end to get all out of the tap.
186 THE TEMPLE.
Wilt thou forestall it, and now grieve to-morrow,1
And then again
Grieve over freshly all thy pain ? 50
Either grief will not come, or if it must,
Do not forecast ;
And while it cometh it is almost past.
Away, distrust ;
My God hath promis'd; He is just. 55
115. fl PEAISE.
ING of glorie, King of peace,
I will love Thee ;
And, that love may never cease,
I will move Thee.
Thou hast granted my request,
Thou hast heard me ;
Thou didst note my working2 breast,
Thou hast spar'd me.
Wherefore with my utmost art
I will sing Thee,
And the cream of all my heart
I will bring Thee.
Though my sins against me cried,
Thou didst cleare me;
And alono, when they replied,
Thou didst heare me.
Sev'n whole dayes, not one in seven,
I will praise Thee ;
In my heart, though not in heaven,
I can raise Thee.
1 — for to-morrow. 2 = labouring.
AN OFFERING. 187
Thou grew'st soft and moist with tears,
Thou relentedst,
And when Justice call'd for fears,
Thou dissentedst.
Small it is in this poore sort1 15
To enroll Thee ;
Ev'n eternitie is too short
To extoll Thee.
116. 1T AN OFFEEING.
I OME, bring thy gift. If blessings were
as slow
As men's returns, what would become
of fools ?
What hast thou there — a heart ? but is it pure ?
Search well, and see, for hearts have many holes.
Yet one pure heart is nothing to bestow ; 5
In Christ two natures met to be thy cure.
0, that within us hearts had propagation,
Since many gifts do challenge many hearts !
Yet one, if good, may title to a number,
And single things grow fruitfull by deserts. 10
In public judgments one may be a nation,
Andfence aplague, whileothers sleep andslumber.2
1 = in songs or hymns of praise.
1 The crimes or the faith of one may bring a judgment or a blessing
open a whole people ; as in the case of David. — WILLMOTT. This is
beside the moral, in that there is not, and from the nature of the poem
cannot be, a reference to the sin of one affecting a whole nation, bnt
• reference only to the blessing that such one can be. The usual
full-stop at ' nation ' is clearly an error for (,) — an error most com-
mon in the printed texts of Herbert.
188 THE TEMPLE.
But all I fear is, lest thy heart displease,
As neither good nor one ; so oft divisions
Thy lusts have made, and not thy lusts alone — 15
Thy passions also have their set partitions :
These parcell out thy heart ; recover these,
And thou mayst offer many gifts in one.
There is a balsome, or indeed a bloud,
Dropping from heav'n, which doth both cleanse
and close 20
All sorts of wounds, of such strange force it is.
Seek out this All-heal,1 and seek no repose
Untill thou finde, and use it to thy good :
Then bring thy gift, and let thy hymne be this :
Since my sadnesse
Into gladnesse,
Lord, Thou dost convert ;
O, accept
What Thou hast kept 5
As Thy due desert.
Had I many,
Had I any —
For this heart is none—
All were Thine, id
And none of mine;2
Surely Thine alone.
Yet Thy favour
May give savour
To this poore oblation,
And it raise
To be Thy praise,
And be my salvation.
1 See the longer Notes and Illustrations (k k), as before.
2 Taken from a boyish wiving, where the cry, " all of mine and
none of thine," ensures the whole find to the first discoverer.
189
117. If LONGING.1
ITH sick and famisht eyes,
With doubling knees, and weary bones,
To Thee my cries,
To Thee my grones,
To Thee my sighs, my tears ascend : 5
No end ?
My throat, my soul is hoarse ;
My heart is wither' d like a ground
Which Thou dost curse;
My thoughts turn round, 10
And make me giddie : Lord, I fall,
Yet call.
From Thee all pitie flows :
Mothers are kinde because Thou art,
And dost dispose 15
To them a part :
Their infants,2 them, and they suck Thee
More free.
Bowels of pitie, heare ;
Lord of my soul, love of my minde, zo
Bow down Thine eare ;
Let not the winde
Scatter my words, and in the same
Thy name.
Look on my sorrows round ; 25
Mark well my furnace. O, what flames,
' Set to mnsic by Henry Pnrcell in the " Treasury of Music."
1 Their infante [suck] them.
190 THE TEMPLE.
What heats abound !
What griefs, what shames !
Consider, Lord ; Lord, bow Thine eare,
And heare. 30
Lord Jesu, Thou didst bow
Thy dying head upon the tree ;
0, be not now
More dead to me.
Lord, heare. ' Shall He that made the eare 35
Not heare ? '
Behold, Thy dust doth stirre ;
It moves, it creeps, it aims at Thee ;
Wilt Thou deferre
To succour me, 40
Thy pile of dust, wherein each crumme
Sayes, Come?
To Thee help appertains ;
Hast Thou left all things to their course,
And laid the reins 45
Upon the horse ?
Is all lockt ? hath a sinner's plea
No key ?
Indeed, the world's Thy book,
Where all things have their leaf assign'd ; So |
Yet a meek look
Hath interlin'd : l
Thy board is full, yet humble guests
Finde nests.
Thou tarriest, while I die,
And fall to nothing : Thou dost reign
1 So Henry Vaughan has " Some silent sUr may interline : " also
tinder Providence.
LONGING. 191
And rule on high,
While I remain
In bitter grief; yet am I stil'd
Thy childe. 60
Lord, didst Thou leave Thy throne
Not to relieve ? how can it be
That Thou art grown .
Thus hard to me ?
Were sinne alive, good cause there were 65
To bear:
But now both sinne is dead,
And all Thy promises live and bide ;
That wants his head,
These speak and chide, 70
And in Thy bosome poure my tears,
As theirs.
Lord JESU, heare my heart,
Which hath been broken now so long,
That ev'ry part 75
Hath got a tongue :
Thy beggars grow ; rid them away
To-day.
My Love, my Sweetnesse, heare :
By these Thy feet, at which my heart 80
Lies all the yeare,
Pluck out Thy dart,
And heal my troubled breast, which cries,
Which dies.
192 THE TEMPLE.
118. f THE BAG.
'WAY, despair ! my gracious Lbrd doth
heare ;
Though windes and waves assault
my keel,
He doth preserve it ; He doth steer
Ev'n when the boat seems most to reel.
Storms are the triumph of His art; 5 I
Well may He close His eyes,1 but not his heart.
Hast thou not heard that my Lord Jesus die'd ? I
Then let me tell thee a strange storie :
The God of power, as He did ride
In His majestick robes of glorie, 10 '
Eesolv'd to 'light ; and BO one day
He did descend, undressing all the way.
The starres His tire of light and rings obtain'd,
The cloud His bowe, the fire His spear,
The sky His azure mantle gain'd ;
And when they ask'd what He would wear,
He smil'd, and said as he did go,
He had new clothes a-making here below.
When He was come, as travellers are wont,
He did repair unto an inne.
Both then, and after, many a brunt
He did endure to cancell sinne ;
And having giv'n the rest before,
Here He gave up His life to pay our score.
' He may wholly close His eyes. I note this, because the posit
of the ' well ' makes its sense ambiguous.
THE JEWS. 193
But as He was returning, there came one zs
That ran upon Him with a spear.
He, who came hither all alone,
Bringing nor man, nor arms, nor fear,
Receiv'd the blow upon His side,
And straight He turu'd, and to His brethren cry'd,
' If ye have anything to send or write — 31
I have no bag, but here is room —
Unto My Father's hands and sight,
Beleeve Me, it shall safely come.
That I shall minde what you impart, 35
Look, you may put it very neare My heart.
Or if hereafter any of My friends
Will use Me in this kinde, the doore
Shall still be open ; what he sends
I will present, and somewhat more, 40
Not to his hurt : sighs will convey
Anything to Me.' Heark, Despair, away !
119. f THE JEWS.
'OOBE nation, whose sweet sap and
juice
Our cyens l have purloin'd and left you
drie;
Whose streams we got by the Apostles' sluce,
And use in baptisme, while ye pine and die ;
Who by not keeping once, became a debter, 5
And now by keeping lose the letter ; —
Oh that my prayers — mine, alas !
Oh that some angel might a trumpet sound,
1 i.e. scions
O
194 THE TEMPLE.
At which the Church, falling upon her face,
Should crie so loud untill the trump were drown'd,
And by that crie, of her deare Lord obtain 1 1
That your sweet sap might come again !
120. § THE COLLAR
STRUCK the board, and cry'd, ' No
more ;
I will abroad.'
What, shall I ever sigh and pine ?
My lines and life are free ; free as the road,
Loose as the winde, as large as store.1 s I
Shall I be still in suit ?
Have I no harvest but a thorn
To let me bloud, and not restore
What I have lost with cordiall fruit ?
Sure there was wine 10 I
Before my sighs did drie it ; there was com
Before my tears did drown it ;
Is the yeare onely lost to me ?
Have I no bayes to crown it,
No flowers, no garlands gay ? all blasted, 15 j
All wasted ?
Not so, my heart ; but there is fruit,
And thou hast hands.
Recover all thy sigh-blown age
On double pleasures ; leave thy cold dispute
Of what is fit2 and not; forsake thy cage,
Thy rope of sands
Which pettie thoughts have made; and made to
thee
1 = as abounding in choice varieties as a store.
1 From 1632-3 onward to Willmott, this has been badly mis
tuated, with comma (,) after " fit" — spoiling the meaning.
THE GLIMPSE. 195
Good cable, to enforce and draw,
And be thy law, 25
While thou didst wink and wouldst not see.
Away ! take heed ;
I will abroad.
Call in thy death's-head there, tie up thy fears ; l
He that forbears 30
To suit and serve his need
Deserves his load.
But as I rav'd and grew more fierce and wilde
At every word,
Methought I heard one calling, ' Childe ; ' 35
And I reply' d, ' My Lord.' 2
121. If THE GLIMPSE.
•HITHER away, Delight?
Thou cam'st but now; wilt thou so
soon depart,
And give me up to night?
For many weeks of lingring pain and smart,
But one half houre of comfort for my heart ! 5
Methinks Delight should have
More skill in musick, and keep better time.
Wert thou a winde or wave,
They quickly go and come with lesser crime ;
>• Flowrs look about, and die not in their prime. 10
Thy short abode and stay
Feeds not, but addes to the desire of meat.
Lime begg'd of old, they say,
1 Like the death's-head, the monsters which encircle his abode or
ttfe to prevent his going beyond bounds ; the monsters put to 'feiir'
or frighten him. The imagery is drawn from the old tales of romanc-e,
with their enchanted castles and encircling lions and the like.
* Cf. " Parentalia," viii. 11. 7-10.
196 THE TEMPLE.
A neighbour spring to cool his inward heat,
Which by the spring's accesse grew much more
great. 1 5
In hope of thee, my heart
Pickt here and there a crumme, and would not
die ;
But constant to his part,
When-as my fears foretold this, did replie,
A slender thread a gentle guest will tie. 20
Yet if the heart that wept
Must let thee go, return when it doth knock.
Although thy heap be kept
For future times, the droppings of the stock
May oft break forth, and never break the lock. 25
If I have more to spinne,
The wheel shall go, so that thy stay be short.1
Thou knowst how grief and sinne
Disturb the work. 0, make me not their sport,
Who by Thy coming may be made a Court ! 30
122. § ASSURANCE.
SPITE FULL bitter thought,
Bitterly spitefull thought! Couldst
thou invent
So high a torture? is such poyson
bought ?
Doubtlesse, but in the way of punishment ;
When wit contrives to meet with thee,
No such rank poyson 2 can there be.
1 = If Delight will stay, he will busy himself, as a woman with 1
Spinning- wheel, that being busy the time of stay may seem short.
3 = what poison is equal to donbt mixed with that wisdom, I
knowledge of one's self.
ASSURANCE. 197
Thou saidst but even now
That all was not so fair as I conceiv'd
Betwixt my God and me. That I allow,
And coin large hopes, but that I was deceiv'd : 10
Either the league was broke, or neare it ;
And that I had great cause to fear it.
And what to this ? l what more
Could poyson, if it had a tongue, expresse ?
What is thy aim ? wouldst thou unlock the doore
To cold despairs and gnawing pensivenesse P 16
Wonldst thou raise devils ? I see, I know ;
I writ thy purpose long ago.
But I will to my Father,
Who heard thee say it. O most gracious Lord, 20
If all the hope and comfort that I gather
Were from myself, I had not half a word,
Not half a letter to oppose
What is objected by my foes.
But Thou art my desert : 25
And in this league, which now my foes invade,
Thou art not onely to perform Thy part,
But also mine ; as when the league was made,
Thou didst at once Thyself indite,
And hold my hand while I did write. 30
Wherefore, if Thou canst fail,
Then can Thy truth and I : but while rocks stand
And rivers stirre, Thou canst not shrink or quail;
Yea, when both rocks and all things shall disband,
Then shalt Thou be my rock and tower, 35
And make their mine praise Thy power.
Now, foolish thought, go on,
Spin out thy thread, and make thereof a coat
1 = What is equal to or greater than this P
198 THE TEMPLE.
To hide thy shame ; for thou hast cast a bone l
Which bounds on thee, and will not down thy
throat :
What for it self Love once began,2 41
Now Love and Truth will end in man.
123. § THE CALL.
OME, my Way, my Truth, my Life !
Such a Way as gives us breath,
Such a Truth as ends all strife,
Such a Life as killeth Death.
Come, my Light, my Feast, my Strength !
Such a Light as shows a feast,
Such a Feast as mends in length,
Such a Strength as makes his guest.
Come, my Joy, my Love, my Heart !
Such a Joy as none can move,
Such a Love as none can part,
Such a Heart as joyes in love
124. H CLASPING Ob1 HANDS.
! OKD, Thou art mine, and I am Thine,
If mine I am ; and Thine much more
Than I or ought or can be mine.
E^- .^-cr Yet to be Thine doth me restore,
So that again I now am mine, 5
And with advantage mine the more,
1 Ll. 39-40. = Thon hast cast a bone of contention, which has re-
bounded on thyself and chokes thee.
7 _ What for its own sake Love (divine) once began. Love and
Truth will end. Cf. 11. 2t>-30.
PRAISE. 199
Since this being mine brings with it Thine,
And Thou with me dost Thee restore : *
If I without Thee would be mine,
I neither should be mine nor Thine. 10
Lord, I am Thine, and Thou art mine ;
So mine Thou art, that something more
I may presume Thee mine then 2 Thine,
For Thou didst suffer to restore
Not Thee, but me, and to be mine : , .
And with advantage mine the more,
Since Thou in death wast none of Thine,
Yet then as mine didst me restore :
0, be mine still ; still make me Thine ;
Or rather make no Thine and mine. zo
125. f PEAISE.
t ORD, I will mean3 and speak Thy praise,
Thy praise alone ;
My busie heart shall spin it all my
dayes ;
And when it stops for want of store,
Then will I wring it with a sigh or grone 5
That Thou mayst yet have more.
When Thou dost favour any action,
It runnes, it flies ;
All things concurre to give it a perfection.
That which had but two legs before, 10
When Thou dost blesse, hath twelve ; one wheel
doth rise
To twentie then, or more.
' = that having died. He restored Himself, putting on man's
spiritual body. " Me " is therefore — myself.
1 = than.
» See 135. " A True Hymne," 1. 2.
200 THE TEMPLE.
But when Thou dost on businesse blow,1
It hangs, it clogs ;
Not all the teams of Albion in a row 1 5
Can hale or draw it out of doore :
Legs are but stumps, and Pharaoh's wheels but logs,
And struggling hinders more.
Thousands of things do Thee employ
In ruling all 20
This spacious globe : angels must have their joy,
Devils their rod, the sea his shore,
The windes their stint : and yet when I did call,
Thou heardst my call, and more.
I have not lost one single tear; 25
But when mine eyes
Did weep to heav'n, _they found a bottle there- —
As we have boxes for the poor —
Keadie to take them in ; yet of a size
That would contain much more. 30
But after Thou hadst slipt a drop
From Thy right eye —
Which there did hang like streamers2 neare the
top
Of some fair church, to show the sore
And bloodie battell which Thou once didst trie —
The glasse was full and more. 36
Wherefore I sing. Yet since my heart,
Though press 'd, runnes thin ;
0 that I might some other hearts convert,
And so take up at use3 good store ; 40
That to Thy chests there might be coming in
Both all my praise, and more !
1 = blow as an opposing wind against a traveller.
* LI. 3:i-o = hoiste.l Hugs, ic. on steeples on days of public rejoicinp.
i = usury or interest.
201
126. § 'JOSEPH'S COAT.
BOUNDED I sing, tormented I indite,
Thrown dowii I fall into a bed and rest :
Sorrow hath chang'd its note ; such is
His will
"\Vlio changeth all things as Him pleaseth best :
For well He knows, if but one grief and smart
Among my many had His full career, 6
Sure it would carrie with it ev'n my heart,
And both would runne until they found a biere
To fetch the bodie, both being due to grief.
But He hath spoil'd the race ; and giv'n to anguish
One of Joye's coats, 'ticing it with relief n
To linger in me, and together languish.
I live to shew His power, Who once did bring
My joyes to weep, and now my griefs to sing.
127. I THE PULLEY.
HEN God at first made man,
Having a glasse of blessings standing
by,
' Let us,' said He, ' poure on him all
we can ;
Let the world's riches, which dispersed lie,
Contract into a span.' 5
So strength first made a way,
Then beantie flow'd, theu wisdome, honour, plea-
sure;
202 THE TEMPLE.
When almost all was out, God made a stay,
Perceiving that, alone of all His treasure,
Rest in the bottome lay,, 10
' For if I should,' said He,
' Bestow this Jewell also on My creature,
He would adore My gifts in stead of Me,
And rest in Nature, not the God of Nature :
So both should losers be.
Yet let him keep the rest,
But keep them with repining restlessnesse ;
Let him be rich and wearie, that at least,
If goodnesse leade him not, yet wearinesse
May tosse him to My breast.'
128. § THE PEIESTHOOD.
|LEST Order ! which in power dost so
excell,
That with th' one hand thou liftest to
the skie,
And with the other throwest down to hell
In thy just censures ; fain would I draw nigh,
Fain put thee on, exchanging my lay-sword
For that of th1 Holy Word.
But thou art fire, sacred and hallow'd fire,
And I but earth and clay ; should I presume
To wear thy habit, the severe attire
My slender compositions might consume :
I am both foul and brittle, much unfit
To deal in Holy Writ.
THE PRIESTHOOD. 203
Yet have I often seen, by cunning hand
And force of fire, what curious things are made
Of wretched earth. Where once I scorn'd to
stand, 15
That earth is fitted, by the fire and trade
Of skilfull artists, for the boards of those
Who make the bravest shows.
But since those great ones, be they ne're so great,
Come from the earth, from whence those vessels
come,
So that at once both feeder, dish, and meat 21
Have one beginning and one finall snmme ;
I do not greatly wonder at the sight,
If earth in earth delight.
But th' holy men of God such vessels are 25
As serve Him up Who all the world commands.
When God vouchsafeth to become our fare,
Their hands convey Him Who conveys their
hands :
0, what pure things, most pure, must those things
be
Who bring my God to me I1 30
Wherefore I dare not, I, put forth my hand
To hold the Ark, although it seem to shake
Through th' old sinnes and new doctrines of our
land;
Onely, since God doth often vessels make
Of lowly matter for high uses meet, 35
I throw me at His feet.
Fhere will I lie, untill my Maker seek
For some mean stuffe whereon to show His skill ;
' The sense is "O what pure things, [O what] most pure [things]
nut," ic. I punctuate accordingly.
204 THE TEMPLE
Then is my time. The distance of the meek
Doth natter power. Lest good come short of ill 40
In praising might, the poore do by submission
What pride by opposition. 1
129. f THE SEARCH.
HITHER, 0 whither art Thou fled,
My Lord, my Love ?
My searches are my daily bread,
Yet never prove.
My knees pierce th' earth, mine eies the skie ; 5
And yet the sphere
And centre both to me denie
That Thou art there.
Yet can I mark how herbs below
Grow green and gay, 10
As if to meet Thee they did know,
While I decay.
Yet can I mark how starres above
Simper2 and shine,
As having keyes unto Thy love, 15
While poore I pine.
I sent a sigh to seek Thee out,
Deep drawn in pain,
Wing'd like an arrow ; but my scout
Returns in vain. K
' The poor give praise to power by submission ; nobles show it bj
their ostentatious magnificence, which only proves to the king hov
much greater he is than such subjects. The thought would be mop
readily understood in Herbert's time, when the nobility vied with on'
another in extravagance of apparel ; while James was not given t-
|- imp, unless on great ocrasious, as on the marriage of his daughter
3 — sparkle, as in a smile.
THE SEARCH. 205
I tun'd another — having store —
Into a grone,
Because the search was dumbe before ;
But all was one.
Lord, dost Thou some new fabrick mold 25
Which favour winnes,
And keeps Thee present ; leaving th' old
Unto their sinnes ?
Where is my God ? what hidden place
Conceals Thee still? 30
What covert dare eclipse Thy face P
Is it Thy will?
0 let not that of any thing ;
Let rather brasse,
Or steel, or mountains be Thy ring,1 35
And I will passe.
Thy will such an intrenching is
As passeth thought:
To it all strength, all subtilties
Are things of nought. 40
Thy will such a strange distance is
As that to it
East and West touch, the poles do kisse,
And parallels meet.
Since, then, my grief must be as large 45
As is Thy space,
Thy distance from me ; see my charge,
Lord, see my case.
O take these barres, these lengths away ;
Turn, and restore me : 50
' Be not Almightie,' let me say,
' Against, but for me.'
1 — ring-fence.
206 THE TEMPLE.
When Thou dost turn, and wilt be neare,
What edge so keen,
What point so piercing can appeare 55
To come between?
For as Thy absence doth excell
All distance known,
So doth Thy nearnesse bear the bell,1
Making two one. 60
130. IT GKIEF.
WHO will give me tears ? Come, all
ye springs,
Dwell in my head and eyes ; come,
clonds and rain;2
My grief hath need of all the watry things
That nature hath produc'd : let ev'ry vein
Suck up a river to supply mine eyes, 5
My weary weeping eyes, too drie for me,
Unlesse they get new conduits, new supplies,
To bear them out, and with my state agree.
What are two shallow foords, two little spouts
Of a lesse world p the greater is but small,3 10
A narrow cupboard for my griefs and doubts,
Which want provision in the midst of all.
Verses, ye are too fine a thing, too wise,
For my rough sorrows ; cease, be dumbe and mute,
Give up your feet and running to mine eyes,
And keep your measures for some lover's lute,
Whose grief allows him musick and a ryme ;
For mine excludes both measure, tune, and time:'
Alas, my God !
1 See in " The Church Porch," st. xxiii. 1. 1.
2 Cf. Jeremiah ix. 1.
3 Of man, the microcosm or world in little ; the world, itself the
greater, is but small, &c. See Note antea.
207
131. T THE CROSSE.
HAT is this strange and uncouth thing,
To make me sigh, and seek, and faint,
and die,
TTntill I had some place where I might
sing
And serve Thee; and not onely I,
But all my wealth and familie might combine 5
To set Thy honour up as our designe ?
And then, when, after much delay,
Much wrestling, many a combate, this deare end,
So much desir'd, is giv'n ; to take away
My power to serve Thee ; to unbend 10
All my abilities, my designes confound,
And lay my threatnings bleeding on the ground.
One ague dwelleth in my bones,
Another in my soul, — the memorie
What I would do for Thee, if once my grones 15
Could be allow'd for harmonie ; —
I am in all a weak disabled thing,
Save in the sight thereof, where strength doth
sting.
Besides, things sort not to my will
Ev'n when my will doth studie Thy renown : 20
Thou turnest th' edge of all things on me still,
Taking me up to throw me down ;
So that, ev'n when my hopes seem to be sped,
I am to grief alive, to them as dead.
To have my aim, and yet to be 25
Farther from it then when I bent my bow ;
To make my hopes my torture, and the fee
208 THE TEMPLE.
Of all my -woes another wo,
Is in the midst of delicates to need,
And ev'n in Paradise to be a weed. 30
Ah, my deare Father, ease my smart !
These contrarieties crush me ; these crosse actions
Doe winde a rope about, and cut my heart :
And yet since these Thy contradictions
Are properly a crosse felt by Thy Sonne
With but foure words, my words, ' Thy will b
done ! '
132. If THE FLOWER.1
, 0 W fresh, 0 Lord, how sweet and clews
Are Thy returns ! ev'n as the flow'ra
in Spring,
To which, besides their own de-
mean,2
The late-past frosts tributes of pleasure bring ; j
Grief melts away
Like snow in May,
As if there were no such cold thing.
Who would have thought my shrivel' d hes
Could have recover'd greennesse ? It was gone
Quite under ground; as flow'rs depart
To see their mother-root, when they have blown.j
Where they together
All the hard weather,
Dead to the world, keep house unknown.
1 See longer Notes and Illustrations (kk), as before, fur ColoH
on this poem.
8 = demain, domain, dominion, or lordship ; i.e. the flowers' tn
and inalienable possessors. It was applied, at least in France (ft
Cotgrave), not only to lauds or pu^esaiuus, but to (royal) imposts o
dues.
THE FLOWER. 209
These are Thy wonders, Lord of power, 15
Killing and quickning, bringing down to Hell
And up to Heaven in an houre ;
Making a chiming ' of a passing-bell.
We say amisse
This or that is ; 20
Thy word is all, if we could spell.2
0 that I once past changing were,
Fast in Thy Paradise, where no flower can wither ;
Many a Spring I shoot up fair,
Offriug at Heav'n, growing and groning thither •,
Nor doth my flower z6
Want a Spring-showre,
My sinnes and I joyning together.
But while I grow in a straight line,
• Still upwards bent, as if Heav'n were mine own,
Thy anger comes, and I decline : 31
• What frost to that ? what pole is not the zone
Where all things burn,
When Thou dost turn,
And the least frown of Thine is shown ? 35
And now in age I bud again,
After BO many deaths I live and write ;
1 onoe more smell the dew and rain,
And relish versing : 0, my onely Light,
It cannot be 40
That I am he
Ou whom Thy tempests fell all night.
These are Thy wonders, Lord of love,
To make us see we are but flow'rs that glide ;
Which when we once can find and prove, 45
• See previous Note from Sonthey on " The Church Porch," tt.
1 — interpret.
r
210 THE TEMPLE.
Thou hast a garden for us where to bide.
Who would be more,
Swelling through store,
Forfeit their Paradise by their pride.
133. H DOTAGE.
IALSE-GLOZING1 pleasures, casks2
of happinesse,
Foolish night-fires,3 women's and
children's wishes,
Chases 4 in arras, guilded emptinesse,
Shadows well-mounted, dreams in a career,5
Embroider'd lyes, nothing between two dishes :
These are the pleasures here. 6
True-earnest sorrows, rooted miseries,
Anguish in grain,6 vexations ripe and blown,
Sure-footed griefs, solid calamities,
Plain demonstrations evident and cleare,
Fetching their proofs ev'n from the very bone :
These are the sorrows here.
But 0 the folly of distracted men !
Who griefs in earnest, joyes in jest pursue ;
Preferring, like brute beasts, a loathsome den
Before a Court, ev'n that above so cleare,
Where are no sorrows, but delights more true
Then miseries are here !
1 = false, flattering.
3 See longer Notes and Illustrations (II), as before, on ' ca.«k«.'|
' = ignes fatui.
4 = hunting scenes embroidered. See " The Church Porch/'i
st. xlv. 6, &c.
* The ground on which a race is run or a combat fought.— Win.-1]
MOTT.
6 = in substance, anguish throughout the substance, and perh
with the further punning conceit, ' anguish in full fruit.' See not
'grain ' in my " Sidney, vol. i. pp. 13(5-7.
211
134. 1T THE SONNE.
!ET forraiu nations of their language
boast
What fine varietie each tongue affords ;
I like our language, as our men and
coast ; !
Who cannot dresse it well, want wit, not words.
How neatly 2 do we give one onely name 5
To parents' issue and the sunne's bright starre !
A sonne is light and fruit ; a fruitfull flame
Chasing the father's dimnesse, carried far
From the first man in the East to fresh and new
Western discov'ries of posteritie. 10
So in one word our Lord's humilitie
We turn upon Him in a sense most true ;
For what Christ once in humblenesse began,
We Him in glorie call The Sonne 3 of Man.
135. 1T A TKUE HYMNE
Joy, my Life, my Crown !
My heart was meaning 4 all the day,
Somewhat it fain would say,
And still it runneth mutt'ring up and
down
With only this, My Joy, my Life, my Crown ! 5
Yet slight not these few words ;
If truly said, they may take part
Among the best in art :
1 See my " Sidney," as before, for a full note on ' coast,' vol i
p. 11* : also Wright's Bible Word-Book, g. v.
* =» nicely, fittingly. ' = the Sun.
* See longer Notes and Illustrations (mm), as before.
212 THE TEMPLE.
The finenesse which a hymne or psalme affords
Is when the soul unto the lines accords. :
HE Who craves all the minde,
And all the soul, and strength, and time,
If the words onely ryme,
Justly complains that somewhat is behinde l
To make his verse, or write a hymne in kinde. 1 5
Whereas, if th' heart be mov'd,
Although the verse be somewhat scant,
God doth supplie the want ;
As when th' heart says, sighing to be approv'd,
' O could I love !' and stops, God writeth ' Lov'd.'
136. 1TTHE ANSWER.
[Y comforts drop and melt away like
snow;
I shake my head, and all the thoughts
and ends
Which my fierce youth did bandie, fall and flow
Like leaves about me, or like summer-friends,
Flyes of estates and sunne-shine. But to all 5
Who think me eager, hot, and undertaking,
But in my prosecutions slack and small ;
As a young exhalation, newly waking,
Scorns his first bed of dirt, and means 2 the sky,
But cooling by the way, grows pursie and slow
And settling to a cloud, doth live and die u
In that dark state of tears, — to all that so
Show me and set me I have one reply,
Which they that know the rest know more then I. s
1 -= that there U somewhat behind [that is, 'wanting'] to make
Terse or hymns fitted in their nature for him ; in other words, they
want sincere affection over aud above rhyme.
' See note on 135, 1. 2.
> LI. 13 14. Characteristic humility.
213
•
137. f A DIALOGUE. ANTHEM.
CHRISTIAN. DEATH.
CHRISTIAN.
LAS, poore Death ! where is thy glorie ?
Where is thy famous force, thy ancient
sting ?
DEATH. •
Alas, poore mortall, void of storie !
Go spell and reade how I have kill'd thy King.
CHRISTIAN.
Poore Death ! and who was hurt thereby ? 5
Thy curse being laid on Him makes thee accurst.
DEATH.
Let losers talk, yet thou shalt die ;
These arms shall crush thee.
CHRISTIAN.
Spare not, do thy worst :
I shall be one day 'better then before ; 10
Thou so much worse, that thou shalt be no more.
214 . THE TEMPLE.
138. fTHE WATER-COURSE.
who dost dwell and linger here
below,
Since the condition of this world is
frail,
Where of all plants afflictions soonest grow,
If troubles overtake thee, do not wail ;
( Life ?
For who can look for lesse that loveth •?,-,, .„' Q
( otrite r
But rather turn the pipe and water's course 6
To serve thy sinnes, and furnish thee with store
Of sov'raigne tears, springing from true remorse ;
That so in purenesse thou mayst Him adore
TTtr, . TT /., (Salvation.
Who gives to man, as He sees fit, 1-^
I Damnation.
139. f SELF-CONDEMNATION.
'HOU who condemnest Jewish hate
For choosing Barabbas a murderer
Before the Lord of glorie,
Look back upon thine own estate,
Call home thine eye, that busie wanderer, 5
That choice may be thy storie.1
He that doth love, and love amisse,
This world's delights before true Christian joy,
Hath made a Jewish choice :
The World an ancient murderer is ; i
Thousands of souls it hath and doth destroy
With her enchanting voice.
1 = their story may be applied to you. Coleridge places 'Their'
in the margin.
SELF-CONDEMNATION. 215
He that hath made a sorrie wedding
Between his soul and gold, and hath preferr'd
False gain before the true, 15
Hath done what he condemnes in reading ;
For he hath sold for money his deare Lord,
And is a Judas-Jew.
Thus we prevent1 the last great day,
And judge our selves. That light which sin and
passion
Did before dimme and choke, 20
When once those snuffes are ta'ne away,
Shines bright and cleare, ev'n unto condemnation,
Without excuse or cloak.
140. f BITTEK-SWEET.
H, my deare angrie Lord,
Since Thou dost love, yet strike,
Cast down, yet help afford ;
Sure I will do the like.
I will complain, yet praise,
I will bewail, approve ;
And all my sowre-sweet dayes
( I will lament, and love.
141. § THE GLANCE.
HEN first Thy sweet arid gracious eye
Vouchsaf d, ev'n in the midst of youth
and night,
To look upon me, who before did lie
Weltering in sinue,
I felt a sugred strange delight, 5
1 = anticipate.
216 THE TEMPLE.
Passing all cordials made by any art,
Bedew, embalme, and overruune my heart,
And take it in.
Since that time many a bitter storm
My soul hath felt, ev'n able to destroy, 10
Had the malicious and ill-meaning harm
His swing and sway ;
Bat still Thy sweet originall joy,
Sprung from Thine eye, did work within my soul,
And surging griefs, when they grew bold, controll,
And got the day. 16
If Thy first glance so powerfull be —
A mirth but open'd, and seal'd up again —
"What wonders shall we feel when we shall see
Thy full-ey'd love ! 20
When Thou shah look us out of pain,
And one aspect of Thine spend in delight
More then a thousand sunnes disburse in light,
In heav'n above.
142. § THE TWENTY-THIRD PSALME.
5™jf HE God of love my Shepherd is,
And He that doth me feed,
While He is mine, and I am His,
What can I want or need ?
He leads me to the tender grasse,
Where I both feed and rest ;
Then to the streams that gently passe :
In both I have the best.
MARIE MAGDALENE. 217
Or if I stray, He doth convert,
And bring my minde in frame : 10
And all this not for my desert,
But for His holy name.
Yea, in Death's shadie black abode
Well may I walk, not fear ;
For Thou art with me, and Thy rod 1 5
To guide, Thy staffe to bear.
Nay, Thou dost make me sit and dine
Ev'n in my enemies' sight ;
My head with oyl, my cup ^yth wine
Eunnes over day and night. 20
Surely Thy sweet and wondrous love
Shall measure all my dayes ;
And as it never shall remove,
So neither shall my praise.
143. IT MARIE MAGDALENE.
HEEN blessed Marie wip'd her Saviour's
feet—
"Whose precepts she had trampled on
before —
And wore them for a Jewell on her head,
Shewing His steps should be the street
Wherein she thenceforth evermore 5
With pensive humblenesse would live and tread ;
She being stain'd herself, why did she strive
To make Him clean Who could not be defil'd ?
Why kept she not her tears for her own faults,
And not His feet ? Though we could dive 10
In tears like seas, our sinnes are pil'd
Deeper then they in words, and works, and thoughts .
218 THE TEMPLE.
Deare soul, she knew Who did vouchsafe anddeigne
To bear her filth, and that her siunes did dash l
Ev'n God Himself; wherefore she was not loth,
As she had brought wherewith to stain, 16
So to bring in wherewith to wash :
And yet in washing one she washed both.
144. f AAEON.
OLINESSE on the head,
Light and perfections on the breast,
Harmonious bells below, raising the
dead
To leade them unto life and rest :
Thus are true Aarons drest. 5
Profanenesse in my head,
Defects and darknesse in my breast,
A noise 2 of passions ringing me for dead
Unto a place where is no rest :
Poore priest, thus am I drest.
Onely another head
I have, another heart and breast,
Another musick, making live, not dead,
Without Whom I could have no rest :
In Him I am well drest. 5
Christ is my onely head,
My alone-onely heart and breast,
1 It is curious that, almost alone, Minsheu gives " bedash, dabble,
or bemire with dirt," and no other meaning. It is here used in this
sense, and is so far different from splash thai it indicates what is in-
tended to be indicated by Herbert, a wilful act. Plasterers, &c., use
it as a technical term for throwing on mortar or the like.
' See note on 106, " The Familie," 1. 1.
THE ODOUR. 219
My onely musick, striking me ev'n dead,
That to the old man I may rest,
And be in Him new-drest. ao
So, holy in my head,
Perfect and light1 in my deare breast,
My doctrine tnn'd by Christ, Who is not dead,
But lives in me while I do rest,
Come, people ; Aaron's drest. *S
145. 1T THE ODOUE.
2 Cor. xi.
| OW sweetly doth ' My Master ' sound !
'My Master!'
As amber-greese2 leaves a rich scent
Unto the taster,
So do these words a sweet content,
An orientall fragrancie, ' My Master.' 5
With these all day I do perfume my minde,
My mind ev'n thrust into them both ;3
That I might finde
What cordials make this curious broth,
This broth of smells, that feeds and fats4 my
minde. 10
4 My Master,' shall I speak ? O that to Thee
' My servant ' were a little so,
As flesh may be ;
That these two words might creep and grow
To some degree of spicinesse to Thee ! 1 5
1 = clear.
* See the longer Notes and Illustrations (tin), as before.
* » both words.
4 " fattens. The elder Puritans did not disdain the use of this
word even to alliteration, as we have " the goal-fatting feast and
'
220 THE TEMPLE.
Then should the pomander,1 which was before
A speaking sweet, mend by reflection,
And tell me more ;
For pardon of my imperfection
Would warm and work it sweeter then before. 20
For when ' My Master,' which alone is sweet,
And ev'n in my unworthinesse pleasing,
Shall call and meet,
' My servant,' as Thee not displeasing,
That call is but the breathing of the sweet. 25
This breathing would with gains, by sweetning
me —
As sweet things traffick when they meet —
Return to Thee ;
And so this new commerce and sweet
Should all my life employ and busie me. 30
146. f THE FOIL.
F we could see below
The sphere 2 of Vertue and each shining
grace
_ _ As plainly as that above doth show,
This were the better skie, the brighter place.
God hath made starres the foil 5
To set-off vertues, griefs to set-off sinning^;
Yet in this wretched world we toil,
As if grief were not foul, nor vertue winning.
I = a scent-ball, derived, says Johnson and others, " from Fr.
Pomme d'ambre ;" but the existence of such a phrase is doubtful and
requires proof.
'' See the longer Notes and Illustrations (oo), as before.
221
147. 1T THE FORERUNNERS.
9r^5 HE harbingers 1 are come : see, see
their mark ;
White is their colour, and behold my
head.
But must they have my brain ? must they dispark2
Those sparkling notions which therein were bred ?
Must dulnesse turn me to a clod P 5
Yet have they left me, ' Thou art still my God.'
Good men ye be to leave me my best room,
Ev'n all my heart, and what is lodged there :
I passe3 not, I, what of the rest become,
So ' Thou art still my God' be out of fear. 10
He will be pleased with that dittie ;
And if I please Him, I write fine and wittie.
Farewell, sweet phrases, lovely metaphors :
But will ye leave me thus ? when ye before
Of stews and brothels onely knew the doores, 15
Then did I wash you with my tears, and more,
Brought you to Church well-drest and clad :
My God must have my best, ev'n all I had.
Lovely enchanting language, sugar-cane,
Hony of roses, whither wilt thou flie ? 20
Hath some fond lover tic'd4 thee to thy bane ?
And wilt thou leave the Church, and love a stie ?
Fie ! thou wilt soil thy broider'd coat,
And hurt thyself and him that sings the note.
1 See the longer Notes and Illustrations (pp), as before.
* Ibid, (qq.)
* — I pane not, exactly equivalent to let it pass [me], let it go by
• I care not. So Coign-re, " je ne m'en concie point."
* — enticed.
222 THE TEMPLE.
Let foolish lovers, if they will love dung, 25
With canvas,1 not with arras, clothe their shame ;
Let Follie speak in her own native tongue :
True Beautie dwells on high; ours is a flame
But borrow'd thence to light uo thither :
Beautie and beauteous words should go together.
Yet if you go, I passe not ; take your way : 3 1
For ' Thou art still my God ' is all that ye
Perhaps with more embellishment can say.
Go, birds of Spring ; let Winter have his fee ;
Let a bleak palenesse chalk the doore,2 3 5
So all within be livelier then before.
148. f THE ROSE.
RESSE me not to take more pleasure
In this world of sugred lies,
And to use a larger measure
Then my strict yet welcome size.
First, there is no pleasure here : 5
Colour'd griefs indeed there are,
Blushing woes that look as cleare
As if they could beautie spare.
Or if such deceits there be —
Such delights I meant to say — 10
There are no such things to me,
Who have pass'd my right away.
But I will not much oppose
Unto what you now advise ;
Onely take this gentle rose, 15
And therein my answer lies.
See the longer Notes and Illnstrutious (rr), as before.
See note and quotation on 1. 1.
DISCIPLINE.
223
What is fairer then a rose ?
What is sweeter P yet it purgeth.
Purgings enmitie disclose,
Enmitie forbearance urgeth.
If, then, all that worldlings prize
Be contracted to a rose,
Sweetly there indeed it lies,
But it biteth in the close.
So this flow'r doth judge and sentence
Worldly joyes to be a scourge ;
For they all produce repentance,
And repentance is a purge.
But I health, not physick, choose :
Onely, though I you oppose,
Say that fairly I refuse,
For my answer is a rose.
30
149. U DISCIPLINE.
HROW away Thy rod,
Throw away Thy wrath ;
0 my God,
Take the gentle path.
For my heart's desire
Unto Thine is bent ;
1 aspire
To a full consent.
Not a word or look
I affect to own,
But by book,
And Thy Book alone.
224 THE TEMPLE.
Though I fail, I weep ;
Though I halt in pace,
Yet I creep
To the throne of grace.
Then let wrath remove,
Love will do the deed ;
For with love
Stonie hearts will bleed.
Love is swift of foot ;
Love's a man of warre,
And can shoot,
And can hit from farre.
Who can 'scape his bow ?
That which wrought on Thee,
Brought Thee low,
Needs must work on me.
Throw away Thy rod :
Though man frailties hath,
Thou art God ;
Throw away Thy wrath.
150. IT THE INVITATION.
50MB ye hither, all whose taste
Is your waste ;
Save your cost and mend your fare ;
God is here prepar'd and drest,
And the feast 5
God, in "Whom all dainties are.
Come ye hither, all whom wine
Doth define,1
I = give an (ill) character to, by the qualities it dulls, and the
qualities it briugs out. Cf. " The Church Porch," at. vi. and see note
THE INVITATION. 225
Naming yon not to your good ;
Weep what ye have druuk amisse, 10
And drink this,
Which, before ye drink, is bloud.
Come ye hither, all whom pain
Doth arraigne,
Bringing all your sinnes to sight ; 1 5
Taste and fear not : God is here
In this cheer,
And on sinne doth cast the fright.1
Come ye hither, all whom joy
Doth destroy 20
While ye graze without your bounds ;
Here is joy that drowneth quite
Your delight,
As a floud the lower grounds.
Come ye hither, all whose love 25
Is your dove,
And exalts you to the skie :
Here is love, which, having breath
Ev'n in death,
After death can never die. 30
Lord, I have invited all,
And I shall
Still invite, still call to Thee ;
For it seems but just and right
In my sight, 35
Where is all, there all should be.
on " third classe." It would not be unaccordant with Heroert's
style and the word-conceits of the time (as witness the same iu
Shakespeare) to suppose a kind of pan or donble meaning intended,
where ' define' would not only suggest, define him by his then
qualities, bnt also that his fineness or propriety peculiar to man
is taken (de) away or from him — a sub-play also on 'finis.'
I — frightfulness, terror.
226 THE TEMPLE.
151. If THE BANQUET.
, sweet and sacred cheer,
Welcome deare ;
With me, in me live and dwell :
For thy neatnesse1 passeth sight,
Thy delight 5
Passeth tongue to taste or tell.
O what sweetnesse from the bowl
Fills my soul,
Such as is and makes divine !
Is some starre — fled from the sphere — 10
Melted there,
As we sugar melt in wine ?
Or hath sweetnesse in the bread
Made a head
To subdue the smell of sinne, 1 5
Flowers, and gummes, and powders giving
All their living,
Lest the enemie should winne ?
Doubtlesse neither starre nor flower
Hath the power ao
Such a sweetnesse to impart ;
Onely God, Who gives perfumes,
Flesh assumes,
And with it perfumes my heart.
But as pomanders2 and wood 25
Still are good,
1 Milton has the word in his sonnet to Mr. Lawrence : —
" What neat repast shall feast us light and choice."— WILLMOTT.
3 See on 145. 1. 16. In both instances the accent is on the first
syllable.
THE BANQUET. 227
Yet being brnis'd are better scented ;
God, to show how farre His love
Could improve,
Here, as broken, is presented. 30
When I had forgot my birth,
And on Earth
In delights of Earth was drown'd,
God took bloud, and needs would be
Spilt with me, 35
And so found me on the ground.
Having rais'd me to look up,
In a cup
Sweetly He doth meet my taste ;
But I still being low and short, 40
Farre from Court,
Wine becomes a wing at last.
For with it alone I flie
To the skie ;
Where I weep mine eyes, and see 45
What I seek for, what I sue ;
Him I view
Who hath done so much for me.
Let the wonder of this pitie
Be my dittie, 50
And take up my lines and life ;
Hearken under pain of death,
Hands and breath,
Strive in this, and love the strife.
228
THE TEMPLE.
152. f THE POSIE.1
i ET wits contest,
And with their words and posies
windows fill ;
' Lesse then the least
Of all Thy mercies '2 is my posie still.
This on my ring,
This by my picture, in my book I write ;
Whether I sing,
Or say, or dictate, this is my delight.
Invention, rest ;
Comparisons, go play ; wit, use thy will ;
' Lesse then the least
Of all God's mercies ' is my posie still.
153. f A PAEODIE.3
OUL'S joy, when thou art gone,
And I alone,
Which cannot be,
Because Thou dost abide with me,
And I depend on Thee ;
1 = The motto. * Genesis xxxii. 10.
3 Used in the sense of the Greek verb, well defined by Jones in 1
Lexicon, as ' I cite the words of a poet, and apply them slifi"
changed to another purpose.' The original is one of the love-ij
of Donne (my edition, vol. ii. pp. 235-6). After the first verse, T
ever, Herbert diverges both as to words and sense. Cf. too Mart
Farodia to Charles, after Horace (Works, my edition, vol. i.
THE ELIXIR. 229
Yet when Thou dost suppresse
The cheerfulnesse
Of Thy abode,
And in my powers not stirre abroad,
But leave me to my load, — 10
0 what a damp and shade
Doth me invade !
No stormie night
Can so afflict, or so affright,
As Thy eclipsed light. 1 5
Ah, Lord, do not withdraw,
Lest want of aw
Make sinne appeare,
And when Thou dost but shine lesse cleare,
Say that Thou art not here. ao
And then what life I have,
While Sinne doth rave,
And falsly boast,
That I may seek, but Thou art lost,
Thou and alone Thou know'st. 25
0 what a deadly cold
Doth me infold !
I half beleeve
That Sinne says true ; but while I grieve,
Thou com'st and dost relieve. 30
154. f THE ELIXIR.1
EACH me, my God and King,
In all things Thee to see,
And what I do in any thing
To do it as for Thee.
1 See the Memoir, as before, for Leightou's reference to this poem.
230
THE TEMPLE.
Not rudely, as a beast, 5
To runne into an action ;
But still to make Thee prepossest.1
And give it his2 perfection.
A man that looks on glasse,
On it may stay his eye ; 10
Or if he pleaseth, through it passe,
And then the heav'n espie.
All may of Thee partake :
Nothing can be so mean
Which with his tincture,3 ' for Thy sake,' 1 5
Will not grow bright and clean.
A servant with this clause
Makes drudgery divine ;
Who sweeps a room as for Thy laws \
Makes that and th' action fine. 1 20
This is the famous stone
That turneth all to gold ;
For that which God doth touch, and own
Cannot for lesse be told.4
155. t A WBEATH.
WREATHED garland of deserved
praise,
Of praise deserved, unto Thee I give,
I give to Thee, Who knowest all my
wayes,
My crooked winding wayes, wherein I live —
Wherein I die, not live ; for life is straight, 5
1 = make Thee possest of it beforehand. ' = its.
3 See the longer Notes and Illustrations (ss) as before.
4 = counted.
DEATH. 231
Straight as a line, and ever tends to Thee—-
To Thee, Who art more farre above deceit
Then deceit seems above simplicitie.
Give me simplicitie, that I may live ;
So live and like, that I may know Thy wayes ; 10
Know them, and practise them ; then shall I give,
For this poore wreath, give Thee a crown of praise.
156. H DEATH.
'BATH, thou wast once an uncouth
hideous thing,
Nothing but bones,
The sad effect of sadder grones :
Thy mouth was open, but thou couldst not sing.
For we consider'd thee as at some sir 5
Or ten years hence,
After the losse of life and sense ;
Flesh being turn'd to dust, and bones to sticks.
We lookt on this side of thee, shooting short,
Where we did nude 10
The shells of fledge-souls left behinde ;
Dry dust, which sheds no tears, but may extort.
But since our Saviour's death did put some bloud
Into thy face,
Thou art grown fair and full of grace, 1 5
Much in request, much sought for, as a good.
For we do now behold thee gay and glad,
As at doom's-day,
When souls shall wear their new aray,
And all thy bones with beautie shall be clad, zo
THE TEMPLE.
Therefore we can go die as sleep, and trust
Half that vre have
Unto an honest faithfull grave,
Making our pillows either down or dust.
157. f DOOM'S-DAY.
IOME away,
Make no delay ;
Summon all the dust to rise,
Till it stirre and rubbe the eyes ;
While this member jogs the other, 5
Each one whispring, ' Live you, brother ? '
Come away,
Make this the day.
Dust, alas, no musick feels
But Thy trumpet; then it kneels, 10
As peculiar notes and strains
Cure tarantulae's raging pains.
Come away,
0 make no stay !
Let the graves make their confession, 15
Lest at length they plead possession :
Fleshe's stubbornnesse may have
Bead that lesson to the grave.
Come away,
Thy flock doth stray. K
Some to the windes their bodies lend,
And in them may drown1 a friend ;
1 ** and through the violence of the winds a friend may drown at
sea. Herbert had no knowledge of nnseawqrthy ships, that drown
without the ni'ivs.-ories of wind mid waves, as beiug shown by Plim-
soll in the teeth of interested opjxinenls.
JUDGMENT. 233
Some in noisome vapours grow
To a plague and pub lick wo.1
Come away, 25
Help our decay.*
Man is out of order hurl'd,
Parcel'd out to all the world.
Lord, Thy broken consort raise,
And the musick shall be praise. 30
158. f JUDGMENT.
LMJGHTIE Judge, how shall poor
wretches brook
Thy dreadfull look,
Able a heart of iron to appall,
When Thou shalt call
For ev'ry man's peculiar3 book ? 5
What others mean to do I know not well ;
Yet I heare4 tell
That some will turn Thee to some leaves therein
So void of shine,
That they in merit shall excell. 10
But I resolve, when Thou shalt call for mine,
That to decline,
And thrust a Testament into Thy hand :
Let that be scann'd, f
There Thou shalt nude my faults are
Thine. 15
1 Nor does Herbert seem to hare had his eyes opened to the evils of
over-crowding, Ac., as is being shown with pathetic insistence and de-
votion hy George Smith of Coal ville in behalf of the canal-boatmen, 4c.
' Relieve ns in, or from, our state of decay. * = specific.
4 See the longer Notes and Illustrations, as before (t t), for Cole-
ridge's mistaken reading of this line, which originated in the misprint
• here' of 1674 and 1679 for • heare.'
234 THE TEMPLE.
159. IF HEAVEN.
"WHO will show me those delights on
high?
ECHO. I.
Thou, Echo, thou art mortall, all men
know.
ECHO. No.
Wert thou not born among the trees and leaves ? 5
ECHO. Leaves.
And are there any leaves that still abide?
ECHO. Bide.
What leaves are they ? impart the matter wholly.
ECHO. Holy. 10
Are holy leaves the Echo, then, of blisse ?
ECHO. Yes.
Then tell me, what is that supreme delight ?
ECHO. Light.
Light to the minde : what shall the will enjoy ? ]
ECHO. Joy. 1 6
But are there cares and businesse with the pleasure?
ECHO. Leisure.
Light, joy, and leisure ; but shall they persever ?
ECHO. Ever, ao'l
160. 1T LOVE.
OYE bade me welcome ; yet my sot
drew back,
Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-ey'd Love, observing me
grow slack
From my first entrance in,
LOVE. 235
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning 5
If I lack'd any thing.
' A guest,' I answer'd, ' worthy to be here : '
Love said, ' You shall be he.'
' I, the unkind, ungrateful ? Ah, my dear,
I cannot look on Thee.' 10
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
' Who made the eyes but I ? '
' Truth, Lord ; but I have marr'd them ; let my
shame
Go where it doth deserve.1
' And know you not,' says Love, ' Who bore the
blame?' 15
' My dear, then I will serve.'
4 You must sit down,' says Love, ' and taste My
meat.'
So I did sit and eat.
FINIS.
<3Iorte be to (Son on
anti on c-arrl)
Peace, goon.toill totoarns men.
IU. THE CHURCH MILITANT.
NOTE.
HE Church Militant " is Herbert's heading in
the Williams MS., and is in agreement with his
title of " The Church Porch " and " The Church "
for the other two portions of the volume of
1632-3, published by Nicholas Ferrar as "The Temple."
[t occupies pp. 184-192 of the original edition, and ever
since has been regarded as a third division of one set of
It is independent ; and I have deemed it better to
lisjoin it from the minor pieces of " The Temple," differ-
ing as it does from them alike in substance and furm.
At the close of this Poem will be found various readings
and additions from the Williams MS. ; some of the latter
inserted in the text (11. 17, 61-3, and 162-4). Of a Latin
verse- translation of "The Church Militant," see the Preface.
The following tribute to "The Church Militant" appeared
la the 1674 and after editions of "The Temple": —
THE CHURCH MILITANT.
The Chnrche's progress is a master-piece,
Limn'd to the life, of Egypt, Rome, and Greece 5
Wherein he gives the Conclave such a blow,
They nere receiv'd from either friend or foe.
England and France do bear an equal share
In his predictions ; which Time will declare.
Here's height of malice, here's prodigious lust,
Impudent sinning, cruelty, distrust ;
Here's black ingratitude, here's pride and scorn ;
Here's damned oaths, that cause the land to mourn ;
And here's oppression, marks of future bane,
And here's hypocrisie, the counter-pane ;
Here's love of Guinies — cursed root of all —
And here's religion turn'd up to the wall:
And could we see with Herbert's eagle eyes,
Without checkmate Religion westward flies.
240 NOTE.
A most sad sacrifice was made of late
Of God's poor lambs by Pharisaique hate :
For discipline with doctrine so to jarr,
Was just like bringing Justice to thebarr.
Was it the will, or judgment, or commands
Of the great Pilot for to pass the Sands?
Well may we hope that our quick-sighted State
Will take God's grievance into a debate.
Cathedrall priests long since have laid about
Hammer and tongs, to drive Religion out;
Her grace and majesty makes them so 'fraid
They cry content, and so espouse her maid.
Shee's decent, lovely, chaste, divine, they say ;
She loves their sons that sing our sins away.
Could we but count the thousands every year
These dreams consume, the musick is too dear.
When Elie's sons made luxury their god,
Their widows nam'd their posthumes Icabod.
They both were slain, God's sacred ark was lost,
Though they had with it a most mighty hoast.
Well may ingratitude make us all mourn ;
Pearls we receive, poor pebles we return.
Now Sein is swallowing Tiber, if the Thames,
By letting in them both, pollute her streams ;
Or if the Seeres shall connive or wink,
Beware the thunderbolt : migrcmus hinc.
O, let me die, and not survive to see,
Before my death, Religion's obsequie.
Religion and dear Truth will prove at length
The Alpha and Omega of our strength ;
Our Boaz, our Jakine, our Great Britain's glory,
Look'd on by owls as a romantick story.
Our CLOUD that comes behind us in the day,
Night's fiery pillar, to direct our way :
Our chariots, ships, and horsemen to withstand
The fury of our foes by sea or land ;
Our eyes may see, as hath been seen before,
Religion's foes lye floating on the shore.
The head of England's Church, proud Babel's but1
Will Faith defend, and Peace will Janus shut.
Adversus Impia, Anno 1670.
1 = butt, i.e. Charles II.
THE CHURCH MILITANT.
LMIGHTIE Lord, Who from Thy
glorious throne
Seest and rulest all things ev'n as
one;
The smallest ant or atome knows
Thy power,
Slnown also to each minute of an houre : 4
liuch more do common-weals acknowledge Thee,
And wrap their policies in Thy decree,
'omplying with Thy counsels, doing nought
Which doth not meet with an eteruall thought.
But above all, Thy Church and Spouse doth prove,
!?ot the decrees of power, but bands of love. 10
Early didst Thou arise to plant this vine,
Which might the more indeare it to be Thine.
Spices come from the East, so did Thy Spouse,
Trimme l as the light, sweet as the laden boughs
)f Xoah's shadie vine, chaste as the dove, 15
Prepar'd and fitted to receive Thy love, —
All emblems which Thy darling doth improve. — 2
1 = spruce or sprucely adorned. See its use again in 1. 152.
* I insert this line from the Williams MS., hut mark it as a kind
of parenthetical glance back on the similes or 'emblems' of the
'hnrch, the Sponse, as • Light,' • Vine,' ' Dove.' By • improve '
Hk*rt teems to mean set forth fittingly in the old sermon-sense of
'improve.' It was probably struck ont by Ferrar as not very well
igreeing with ' trimme as,' ' sweet as,' ' chaste as.'
K
242 THE CHURCH MILITANT.
The course was westward, that the sunne might
light
As well our understanding as our sight.
Where th' Ark did rest, there Abraham began 20
To bring the other Ark from Canaan.
Moses pursu'd this ; but King Solomon
Finisht and fixt the old religion.
When it grew loose, the Jews did hope in vain
By nailing Christ to fasten it again; 25
But to the Gentiles He bore Crosse and all,1
.Rending with earthquakes the partition-wall.
Onely whereas the Ark in glorie shone,
'fow with the Crosse, as with a staff'e, alone,
leligion, like a pilgrime, Westward bent,
vnocking at all doores ever as She went.
fet as the sunne, though forward be his flight,
jistens behinde him,2 and allows some light
Till all depart;3 so went the Church her way,
Letting, while one foot stept, the other stay 3
A.mong the Eastern nations for a time,
Till both removed to the Western clime.
To Egypt first she came, where they did prove
Wonders of Anger once, but now of Love ;
The Ten Commandments there did flourish more
Then the ten bitter plagues had done before ; 4
Holy Macarius and great Anthonie
Made Pharaoh Moses, changing th' historic ;
Goshen was darknesse, Egypt full of lights,
Nilus for monsters brought forth Israelites.
Such power hath mightie Baptisme to produce,
For things misshapen, things of highest use.
How deare to me, O God, Thy counsels are !
Who may with Thee compare ?
1 Cf. Passio Disoerpta, XVIII. Terrie-motus.
* A metaphor drawn from field sports.
1 The Williams MS. reads 'begone': the reference hi-inf? tc
' hght ' and ' twilight ' ; but ' depart ' is perhaps better retained.
THE CHURCH MILITANT. 243
Religion thence fled into Greece,1 where arts 50
Gave her2 the highest place in all men's hearts ;
Learning was pos'd, Philosophic was set,
Sophisters taken in a fisher's net.
Plato and Aristotle were at a losse,
And wheel'd about again to spell Christ-Crosse.3
Prayers chas'd syllogismes into their den, 56
And Ergo was transform'd into Amen.
Though Greece took horse as soon as Egypt did,
And Rome as both, yet Egypt faster rid,
And spent her period and prefixed time 60
Before the other two were in their prime ;4
From Greece to Rome she went, subduing those
Who had subdued all the world for foes.
The Warner8 his deere skarres no more resounds,
Butseems toyeeldChristhath8the greater wounds;
Wounds willingly endur'd to work his blisse, 66
Who by an ambush lost his Paradise.
The great heart stoops, and taketh from the dust,
A sad repentance, not the spoils of lust;
Quitting his spear, lest it should pierce again 70
Him in His members, Who for him was slain.
The Shepherd's hook grew to a scepter here,
Giving new names 7 and numbers to the yeare ;
' In the Williams MS., it is :
" Thence into Greece she fled, where curious Arts."
1 ' Her' is •= Religion. Cf. 11. 84-5 and 267-9. The liberal art»,
whirh emolliunt mores, and the habit of philosophic thought, prepared
them fur the reception of the troth. .
* Colloquially criss-cross, the alphabet in a horn-book or primer ;
called so, either because a cross was prefixed to the alphabet row, or
"•cause the alphabet was arranged to form a cross.
4 I adopt the Williams MS. readings here. They are much more
Ttrid and striking than the wsnul text, which runs :
" Before the other. Greece being past her prime,
Religion went to Rome, subduing those
Who, that they might subdue, made all their foes."
• The Williams MS. spells • Warrionr.'
' The Williams MS. rea-ls ' had ;' but ' hath,' in its • present for
all time,' gives the flner sense.
' — • the change of Pagim holy days to Christian : the ' new num-
bers,' and perhaps the whole line, may refer to the change of style
introduced by Pope Gregory in 1582.
'
244 THE CHURCH MILITANT.
But th' Empire dwelt in Greece, to comfort them
Who were cut short in Alexander's stemme. 75
In both of these Prowesse and Arts did tame
And tune1 men's hearts against the Gospel came ;
Which using, and not fearing skill in th' one
Or strength in th' other, did erect her throne.2
Many a rent and struggling th' Empire knew —
As dying things are wont — untill it flew 81
At length to Germanie, still Westward bending,
And there the Churche's festivall attending;
That as before Empire and Arts made way —
For no lesse Harbingers3 would serve then they —
So they might still, and point us out the place 86
Where first the Church should raise her downcast
face.
Strength levels grounds, Art makes agarden there;
Then showres Eeligion,4 and makes all to bear.
Spain in the Empire shar'd with Germanie, 90
But England in the higher victorie,
Giving the Church a crown5 to keep her state,
And not go lesse then she had done of late.
Constantine's British line6 meant this of old,
And did this mysterie wrap up and fold 95
Within a sheet of paper, which was rent
From Time's great Chronicle, and hither sent.
/Thus both the Church and sunne together ran
(^Unto the farthest old meridian.
How deafe to me, 0 God, Thy counsels are ! 100
Who may with Thee compare ?
Much about one and the same time and place,
Both where and when the Church began her i
Sinne did set out of Eastern Babylon,
1 The Williams M8. reads 'dense' — inferior, if indeed it be
ontrne.
The Williams MS., ' took possession ' — again inferior.
See full Note on 147. " The Forerunners," 1. 1.
= Then Religion showres.
The reference is, as in the next Note, to the Reformation.
See the longer Notes and Illustrations (uu), as before.
THE CHURCH MILITANT. 245
And travell'd Westward also : journeying on 105
He chid the Church away where e're he came,
Breaking her peace and tainting her good name.
At first he got to Egypt, and did sow
Gardens of gods, which ev'ry yeare did grow
Fresh and fine deities. They were at great cost,
\Vho for a god clearely a sallet lost. 1 1 1
Ah, what a thing is man devoid of grace,
Adoring garlick with an humble face,
[ Begging his food of that which he may eat,
Starving the while he worshippeth his meat ! 115
Who makes a root his god, how low is he,
j^" God and man be sever'd infinitely !
What wretchednesse can give him any room,
Whose house is foul, while he adores his broom ?
None will beleeve this now, though money be 120
In us the same transplanted foolerie.
Thus Sinne in Egypt sneaked for a while ;.
His highest was an ox or crocodile,
And such poore1 game. Thence he to Greecfe doth
passe,
And being craftier much then Goodnesse was, 125
He left behinde him garrisons of sinnes,
To make good that which ev'ry day he winnes.
Here Sinne took heart, and for2 a garden-bed
Rich shrines and oracles he purchased ;
He grew a gallant, and would needs foretell 130
As well what should befall as what befell ;
i Nay, he became a poet, and would serve
: His pills of sublimate in that conserve.3
1 The world came both4 with hands and purses full
To this great lotterie, and all would pull.5 135
1 The Williams MS. , • small,' inferior in relation to ' ox ' and • croco-
dile.' » = instead of.
* The orarnlar responses being in verse, Herbert says they hide
their poison in tne sweetness of verse.
The Williams MS., • in.'
* Another proof that ' polling prime ' consisted in drawing from the
P*ck. — . to draw. See Glossanal Index, j. r.
246 THE CHURCH MILITANT.
But all was glorious cheating, brave deceit,
Where some poore truths were shuffl'd for a bait
To credit him, and so ' discredit those
Who after him should braver truths disclose. 139
From Greece he went to Rome ; and as before
He was a god, now he's an emperour ;
Nero and others lodg'd him bravely there,
Put him in trust to rule the Romane sphere.
Glorie was his chief instrument of old ; 144
Pleasure succeeded straight when that grew cold,
Which soon was blown to such a mightie flame,
That though our Saviour did destroy the game,
Disparkiug2 oracles and all their treasure,
Setting affliction to encounter pleasure ;
Yet did a rogue, with hope of caruall joy, 150
Cheat the most subtill nations.3 Who so coy,
So trimme,4 as Greece and Egypt ? Yet their
hearts
Are given over, for their curious arts,
To such Mahometan stupidities
As the old heathen would deem prodigies. 155
How deare to me, 0 God, Thy counsels are !
Who may with Thee compare ?
Onely the West and Rome do keep them free5
From this contagious infidelitie ;
And this is all the Rock whereof they boast, i6c
As Rome will one day finde unto her cost ; 6
1 From the Williams MS., for ' to' of the printed text.
' On ' disparking ' in connection with destroying game, sec
ferenres in Ulossaria) Index, s. r .
5 Mahomet. 4 See note on 1. 14.
5 In the Williams MS., originally, " Europe alone and Rome;
hnt Heihert erases, and writes " onely the \\Vst."
8 11. 1H2-1. I insert these lines from the Williams MS. They I
too characteristic to be lost. Line Iii3: to reckon without one's h
is to reckon mistakenly; and that Herbert was here thinking of the
saying is clear by the next line, and the u*e in it of ' reckon.'
Traditions, says he, arc urcmints ut second, third, or other hand, not
Terifled by the personal or written word of tl.e host : and those who
rely on them must reckon tw.ee, consider well when they are not «O
rerifled, but differ from the written truths, the host's own words.
THE CHURCH MILITANT. 247
Traditions are accounts without our host ;
They who rely on them must reckon twice,
When written Truths shall censure man's devise.
Sinne being not able to extirpate quite 165
The Churches here, bravely resolv'd one night
To be a Churchman too, and wear a mitre ;
The old debauched ruffian would turn writer.
I saw him in his studie, where he sate
Busie in controversies sprung of late : 170
A gown and pen became him wondrous well ;
His grave aspect had more of heav'n then hell j1
Onely there was a handsome picture by,2
To which he lent a corner of his eye.
As Sinne in Greece a prophet was before, 175
And in old Rome a mightie emperour ;
So now, being priest, he plainly did professe
To make a jest of Christ's three offices ;
The rather since his scatter'd jugglings were
United now in one, both time and sphere. 180
From Egypt he took pettie deities,
From Greece oracular infallibilities,
And from old Rome the libertie of pleasure,
By free dispensings* of the Churche's treasure ;
Then, in memoriall of his ancient throne, 185
He did surname his palace Babylon.
Yet that he might the better gain all nations,
And make that name good by their transmi-
grations,
From all these places, but at divers times,
He took fine vizards to conceal his crimes — 190
From Egypt anchorisme and retirednesse,
Learning from Greece, from old Rome stateli-
nesse ;
1 The Williams MS., • was liker.'
1 I fear the allusion is to certain Popes' • lost ' »ft«r picture* of
1 fur women,' their concubines and mistresses, semi-nude— the scan-
"lalsof the Church.
' The Williams MS., ' dispensations,' which has a somewhat am-
i sound.
248 THE CHURCH MILITANT.
And blending these, he carri'd all men's eyes, — '
While Truth sat by, counting his victories ;
Whereby he grew apace, and scorn'd to use 195
Such force as once did captivate the Jews,
But did bewitch,2 and finally work each nation
Into3 a voluiitarie transmigration.
All poste to Rome ; princes submit their necks
Either t' his publick foot or private tricks. ^<.
It did not fit his gravitie to stirre,
Nor his long journey, nor his gout and4 furre ;
Therefore he sent out able ministers,
Statesmen within, without doores cloisterers ;
Who, without spear, or sword, or other drumme*!
Then what was in their tongue, did overcome ; 2061
And having conquer'd, did so strangely rule,
That the whole world did seem but the Pope'i
mule.
As new and old Rome did one Empire twist,
So both together are one Antichrist ; 2i<
Yet with two faces, as their Janus was,
Being in this their old crackt looking-glasse.
How deare to me, 0 God, Thy counsels are !
Who may with Thee compare ?
Thus Sinne triumphs in Western Babylon ; 21
Yet not as Sinne, but as Religion.
1 I punctuate parenthetically " While Truth sat by." Hith
it has not been so done. Of course it may be said that Truth is :
presented as having nothing else to do ; but is that counting of f "
victories an occupation for Truth ? I prefer considering " W
Truth sat by," i.e. aside and idly, as parenthetical, and it is Sin t
counts or reckons up her victories, and, glorying therein,
apace, &c.
3 The Williams MS., " bewitch both kings and many a."
3 The Williams MS., ' vnto.'but we transmigrate ' into ' not 'i
for the soul transmigrates, not the body (assuming traiismigratio
« The Williams MS., ' or.'
* 11. 205-8. Not in the Williams MS., but the following come i
1. 204 :
" Who brought his doctrines and his deeds from Rome ;
But when they were vnto the Sorbon come,
The waight was such they left the doctrines there.
Shipping the Vices onely for our sphere."
THE CHURCH MILITANT. 249
Of his two thrones he made the latter best,
And to defray1 his journey from the East.
Old and new Babylon are to hell and night
As is the moon and sunne to heav'n and light. 210
When th' one did set, the other did take place,
Confronting equally the Law and Grace.
They are hell's landmarks, Satan's double crest ;
They are Sinne's nipples, feeding th' East and West.
But as in vice the copie still exceeds 225
The pattern, but not so in virtuous deeds ;
So, though Sinne made his latter seat the better,
The latter Church is to the first a debter.
The second Temple could not reach the first ;
And the late Reformation never durst 230
Compare with ancient times and purer yeares,
But in the Jews and us deserveth tears.2
Nay, it shall ev'ry yeare3 decrease and fade,
Till such a darknesse do the world invade
At Christ's last coming as His first did finde ; 235
Yet must there such proportions be assign'd
To these diminishings as is between
The spacious world and Jury to be seen.
/"Religion stands on tiptoe in our land,4
xReadie to passe to the American strand. 240
When height of malice and prodigious lusts,
Impudent sinning, witchcrafts, and distrusts —
The marks of future bane — shall fill our cup
Unto the brimme, and make our measure up ;
When Sein shall swallow Tiber, and the Thames,
By letting-in them both, pollutes her streams ; 246
When Italic of us shall have her will,
1 — and made [from line above] [it] the latter to defray ; an
irrejrnlar ellipsis.
1 But [the second Temple] in the Jews and [the late Reformation]
in us [each or each part] deseryeth tears. Again very elliptical.
See the Memoir, as before, on this.
* The Williams MS., ' daye," which less accords with a progress
reckoned by centuries than ' yeares.'
4 See the Memoir, as before, on these famous lines (11. 239-40).
250 THE CHURCH MILITANT.
And all her calendar of sinnes fulfill,
Whereby one may foretell what sinnes next yeare
Shall both in France and England domineer — 250
Then shall Religion to America flee ;
They have their times l of Gospel ev'n as we.
/"My God, Thou dost prepare for them a way,
By carrying first their gold from them away ;
For gold and grace did never yet agree, 255
Religion alwaies sides with povertie.
We think we rob them, but we think amisse ;
We are more poore, and they more rich by this.
Thou wilt revenge their quarrell, making grace
To pay our debts, and leave our ancient place 260
To go to them, while that which now their nation
But lends to 2 us shall be our desolation.
Yet as the Church shall thither Westward flie,
So Sinne shall trace and dog her instantly ;
They have their period3 also and set times, 265
Both for their vertuous actions and their crimes.
And where 4 of old the Empire and the Arts
Usher'd the Gospel ever in men's hearts,
Spain hath done one; when Arts perform the other, I
The Church shall come, and Sinne the Church
shall smother ; zyo
That when they have accomplished the round,
And met in th' East their first and ancient sound,8
Judgement may meet them both and search ther
round.
Thus do both lights, as well in Church as sunne,
Light one another and together runne;6 275
Thus also Sinne and Darknesse follow still7
t
« The Williams MS., ' time.' » The Williams MS., • lendet
* «= termination. * = whereas.
5 An expanse of sea or kind of sea-lake, with a narrow out
givini; therefore a land-looked haven or harbour.
6 In the Williams MS., " Like eomit-k Lovers euerone way i
' 11. 276-7. In the Williams MS., these read :
" Darkiu'ssc constantly
Follow the Church and Suuu where ere they fly."
L'ENVOY. 251
The Church and sunne with all their power and
skill.
Bat as the sunne still goes both West and East,
So also did the Church by going West 179
Still Eastward go ; because it drew more neare
To time and place where judgement shall appeare.
How deare to me, 0 God, Thy counsels are !
Who may with Thee compare ?
1 L'ENVOY.1
ING of glorie, King of peace,
With the one make warre to cease ;
With the other blesse Thy sheep,
Thee to love, in Thee to sleep.
Let not Sinne devoure Thy fold,
Bragging that Thy bloud is cold ;
That Thy death is also dead,
While his conquests dayly spread;
That Thy flesh hath lost his food,
And Thy Crosse is common wood.
Choke him, let him say no more,
But reserve his breath in store.
Till Thy conquest and his fall
Make his sighs to use it all ;
And then bargain with the winde
To discharge what is behind.
<Z?oH alone,
(Cferue blesgen tEbree in One.
1 ID the Williams MS. Herbert himwlf ha* written this as a
IV. LILIES OF THE TEMPLE.
FEOM UNPUBLISHED MSS.
NOTE.
The first six pieces in this section were published by me
from the Williams MS. in the " Leisure Hour" of the!
Religious Tract Society. See our Preface and Memorial-!
Introduction. The last piece is from " Miscellanea Sacra,!
or Poems on Divine and Moral Subjects," collected by N.J
Tate, second edition, 1698, p. 51, where it is headed " The)
Convert. An Ode written by Mr. George Herbert."
is to be regretted that Tate does not inform us when
he derived this Ode. But as he was well-circumstanc
to procure MSS , and as others of eminent names fir
published by him have been authenticated, there is eve
probability that he had an autograph of this poem. It .
touches of Herbert in it. I am not aware that any (
until now has reprinted it. I gladly entwine it with
six Lilies. 6.
I. THE HOLY COMMUNION.
GRATIOUS Lord, how shall I know
Whether in these gifts Thou bee so
As Thou art everywhere ?
Or rather so, as Thou alone
Tak'st all ye Lodging, leaving none
For Thy poore creature there. 6
First I am sure, whether bread stay,
Or whether Bread doe fly away,
Concerneth Bread, not mee ;
But yl both Thou and all Thy traine 10
Bee there, to Thy truth and my gaine
Concerneth mee and Thee.
And if in comming to Thy foes,1
Thou dost come first to them, y1 showes
The hast of Thy good will ; 1 5
Or if that Thou two stations makest,
In Bread and mee, the way Thou takest
Is more, but for mee still.
of this also I am sure,
TLat Thou didst all these pains endure 10
T' abolish Sinn, not Wheat ;
, I It. 13, 18 — Whether Thoneomest direct to the believer, or comest
flrtt into the bread and wine, and thence to the re<-eiver.
256 LILIES OF THE TEMPLE.
Creatures are good, and have their place ;
Sinn onely, wch did all deface,
Thou drivest from his seat.
I could beleeve an Impanation 25
At the rate of an Incarnation,1
If Thou hadst dyde for Bread ;
But that wch made my soule to dye,
My flesh and fleshy villany,
That allso made Thee dead.
That flesh is there mine eyes deny :
And what shold flesh but flesh discry —
The noblest sence of five ?
If glorious bodies pass the sight,
Shall they be food and strength and might, 3J]
* Eueu there where they deceiue p
Into my soule this cannot pass ;
Flesh, though exalted, keeps his grass,2
And cannot turn to soule.
Bodyes and Minds are different spheres ;
Nor can they change their bounds and meres,3
But keep a constant Pole.
This gift of all gifts is the best,
Thy flesh the least y4 1 request ;
Thou took'st that pledg from mee :
Give me not that I had before,
Or give me that so I have more ;
My God, give mee all Thee. (Fol.
1 = I conld believe God becoming bread (impanation), and hold
it as of the same value as God becoming man, if, Ac.
* i. e. keeps that natural substance which is iii the grass and herb*,
from which all flesh is immediately or intermediately derived.
3 ' meres : ' generally said to he a boundary ; but perhaps n I
correctly what it certainly is sometimes, a boundary mark.
Drayton's " Polyolb." i.
257
II. LOVE.
'HOU art too hard for me in Love ;
There is no dealing wlh Thee in that
Art,
That is Thy Masterpeece, I see.
When I contrive and plott to prove
Something that may be conquest on my part, 5
Thou still, O Lord, outstrippest mee.
Sometimes, when as I wash, I say,
And shrodely l as I think, ' Lord, wash my soule,
More spotted then my Flesh can bee.'
But then there comes into my way 10
Thy ancient baptism, wch when I was foule
And knew it not, yet cleansed mee.
I took a time when Thou didst sleep,
Great waves of trouble combating my brest :
I thought it braue to praise Thee then ; 1 5
Yet then I found that Thou didst creep
Into my hart wlb ioye, giving more rest
Than flesh did Lend Thee back agen.
Let mee but once the conquest have
Vpon ye matter,2 'twill Thy conquest prove : 20
If Thou subdue mortalitie,
Thou dost no more than doth y" graue ;
Whereas if I orecome Thee and Thy love,
Hell, Death, and Divel come short of mee.
(Fob. 38, 39.)
1 = shrewdly. * = in thu matter [of lore]
258
LILIES OF THE TEMPLE.
III. TRINITY SUNDAY.
E that is one1
Is none ;
Two reacheth Thee
In some degree :
Nature and Grace
W'b Glory may attaine Thy Face.
Steele and a flint strike fire ;
Witt and desire
Never to Thee aspire,
Except life catch and hold those fast.
That wch beleefe
Did not confess in ye first Theefe2
His fall can tell
From Heaven through Earth to Hell.
Lett two of those alone
To them that fall,
Who God and Saints and Angels loose at last ;
Hee that has one
Has all. ( Fol.
IV. EUEN-SONG.
§evP HE Day is spent, and hath his will
I and ye Sunn haue runn 01
races :
I went ye slower, yet more paces ;3
For I decay, not hee.
1 In this there is a play on ' one ' at the beginning and end, and
intermediately on ' three.' He that is one (Nature), &c Twt
(Nature and Grace) reacheth, &c. He that has 'one 'of the three,
i. e. 'Heaven,' has all. 'J Satun.
8 " More paces :" and therefore advanced with more exertion
expense of energy and flesh.
an ant'
THE KNELL. 259
Lord, make my Loss vp, and sett mee free, 5
That I, who cannot now by day
Look on his daring brightnes, may
Shine then more bright then hee.
If Thou deferr this light, then shadow mee,
Least that theNight, earth's gloomy shade, 10
Fouling her nest, my earth invade,
As if shades knew not Thee.
But Thou art Light and darkness both togeather :
If that bee dark we cannot see,
The sunn is darker then a Tree, 15
And Thou more dark then either.
Yet Thou art not so dark since I know this,
But that my darknes may touch Thine ;
And hope that may teach it to shine,
Since Light Thy darknes is. zo
0 lett my Soule, whose keyes I must deliver
Into the hands of senceles dreames,
Wch know not Thee, suck in Thy beames,
And wake wtb Thee for ever. (Pol. 44.)
V. THE KNELL.
•HE Bell doth tolle :
Lord, help Thy servant, whose per-
plexed Soule
Doth wishly1 look
On either hand,
And sometimes offers, sometimes makes a stand, 5
Strugling on th' hook.
Now is the season,
Now ye great combat of our flesh and reason :
0 help, my God ;
> — wistfully.
260 LILIES OF THE TEMPLE.
See, they break in, 10
Disbanded humours, sorrows, troops of Sinn,
Each wth hie rodd.
Lord, make Thy Blood
Convert and colour all the other flood
And streams of grief, 1 5
That they may bee
Julips and cordials when we call on Thee
For some relief. (Fol. 75.)
VI. PERSEVERANCE.
Y God, ye poore expressions of my Love,
Wch warme these lines and serve them
vp to Thee,
Are so as for the present I did moue,1
Or rather as Thou mouedst mee.
But what shall issue, whether these my words
Shal help another, but my iudgment bee ;
As a burst fouling-peece doth saue y6 birds,
But kill the man, is seald wth Thee.
For who can tell, though Thou hast dyde to
And wedd my soule in glorious paradise,
Whither my many crymes and vse of sinn
May yet forbid the banes2 and bliss ?
Onely my soule hangs on Thy promises,
Wh face and hands clinging vnto Thy brest ;
Clinging and crying, crying wlhout cease, 15
' Thou art my Rock, Thou art my Rest.'
(Fol. 76.)
I — i intend to speak. 3 — bans.
261
VII. THE
J F ever tears did flow from eyes,
If ever voice was hoarse with cries,
If ever heart was sore with sighs, —
Let nowmyeyes, my voice.my heart
Strive each to play their part.
My eyes, from whence these tears did spring,
Where treach'rous Syrens us'd to sing,
Shall flow no more, untill they bring
A deluge on my sensual flame,
And wash away my shame.
My voice, that oft with foolish lays,
With vows and rants and senseless praise,
Frail Beauty's charms to heav'n did raise,
Henceforth shall only pierce the skies
In penitential cryes.
My heart, that gave fond thoughts their food —
Till now averse to all that's good,
The Temple where an idol stood,
Henceforth in sacred flames shall burn,
And be that idol's urn.
1 Bee Note prefixed to this section.
V. PSALMS.
HITHEBTO UNCOLLECTED AND 1NEDITED.
NOTE.
These Psalms are taken from the following now extremely rare
book:
PSALMS AND HYMNS
IN SOLEMN MU8ICK
OF FOURE PARTS,
Or the common tnnes to the Psalms in Metre :
Used i:i Parish-Churches.
Alto six Hymns for one Voice to the Organ.
For God is King of all the earth ; sing ye praises with understanding.
PSALM xlvii. 7.
By JOHS PLAYFORD.
[Picture of K. David playing, surrounded by a square margin con-
taining the music of Gloria in excelsis, Deo Cantate, &c.]
London : Printed by W. Godbid for J. Playford at his shop in
the Inner-Temple. 1671. [A folio.]
Itis dedicated to William Sancroft, D.D., Dean of St. Paul's. In the
Preface occur these explanations : " To (hose which are Bishop King's,
there is H. K.; those of Mr. [Miles] Smith [yet living], M. S. ;
those with G. H. are supposed to be Mr. George Herbert's." The
translation of the 23rd Psalm in " The Temple " is also given bT
Playford, who was well acquainted with Herbert's sacred poems. lit '
the same volume he sets the Altar to music, and in his preface quot
Herbert's first Antiphon (Vol. I. pp. 59-tiO). Probably, therefor
the 23rd Psalm was added from " The Temple," and this is the mo
likely, as the other Psalms signed G. H. run on continuously from
to 7. Edward Fair, in his " Select Poetry, chiefly sacred, of
Reign of King James the First " (Cambridge, 1847), gives "
V."~(pp. 87-8.) On his uncharacteristically incorrect Note he
and other points, see our Memorial-Introduction. G.
PSALM III.
ANOTHER TRANSLATION.
OW are my foes increased, Lord !
many are they that rise
Against me, saying, for my soul
no help in God there is.
But Thou, O Lord, ar't still the shield
of my deliverance ;
Thou art my glory, Lord, and He
that doth my head advance.
I cry'd unto the Lord, He heard
me from His holy hill ;
I laid me down and slept, I wak't:
for God sustaiu'd me still.
Aided by Him, I will not fear
ten thousand enemies,
Nor all the people round about
that can against me rise.
Arise, 0 Lord, and rescue me ;
save me, my God, from thrall ;
"Tie Thou upon the cheek-bone smit'st
mine adversaries all.
266 PSALMS.
And Thou hast brok th' uugodly's teeth :
salvation unto Thee
Belongs, 0 Lord ; Thy blessing shall
upon Thy people be. G. H. (p. 12.)
PSALM IV.
ANOTHER TRANSLATION.
OKD, hear me when I call on Thee,
Lord of my righteousness ;
0 Thou that hast enlarged me
when I was in distress.
Have mercy on me, Lord, and hear
the prayer that I frame ;
How long will ye, vain men, convert
my glory into shame ?
How long will ye seek after lies,
and vanity approve ?
But know the Lord Himself doth chuse
the righteous man to love.
The Lord will hearken unto me
when I His grace implore ;
0 learn to stand in awe of Him,
and sin not any more.
Within your chamber try your hearts ;
offer to God on high
The sacrifice of righteousness,
and on His grace rely.
Many there are that say, ' 0, who
will show us good ? ' But, Lord,
Thy countenance's cheering light
do Thou to us afford.
PSALM VI. 267
For that, 0 Lord, with perfect joy
shall more replenish me
Then worldlings joy'd with all their store
of corn and wiue can be.
Therefore will I lie down in peace
and take my restful sleep ;
For Thy protection, Lord, alone
shall me in safety keep. G. H. (p. 18.)
PSALM VL
EBUKE me not in wrath, 0 Lord,
nor in Thine anger chasten me ;
0 pity me ; for I, O Lord,
am nothing but infinnitie.
0 heal me, for my bones are vex'd,
my soul is troubled very sore ;
But, Lord, how long so much perplex'd
shall I in vain Thy grace implore ?
Return, O God. and rescue me,
my soul for Thy great mercy save ;
For who in death remember Thee ?
or who shall praise Thee in the grave ?
With groaning I am wearied,
all night I make my couch to swim,
And water with salt tears my bed ;
my sight with sorrow waxeth dim.
My beauty wears and doth decay,
because of all mine enemies ;
But now from me depart away,
all ye that work iniquities.
268 PSALMS.
For God Himself hath heard my cry ;
the Lord vouchsafes to weigh my tears j
Yea, He my prayer from on high
and humble supplication hears.
And now my foes the Lord will blam
that e'rst so sorely vexed me,
And put them all to utter shame,
and to confusion suddainly.
Glory, honour, power, and praise
To the most glorious Trinity ;
As at the first beginning was,
is now, and to eternity. G. H. (p. 26.
GLORIA TO PSALM XXIII.
0 Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
one consubstantial Three,
All highest praise, all humblest thanks,
now and for ever be.1 G. H..
PSALM VII.
AVE me, my Lord, my God, because
I put my trust in Thee ;
From all that persecute my life,
0 Lord, deliver mee.
1 With reference to the ' Gloria,' whenever it is added to a psaln
or hymn, whether the psalm be King's, G. H.'s, or other, it is ii
italics if the psalm be in roman, and vice versa. This 'Gloria' t<
Psalm xxiii., which bears Herbert's initials, occurs also after a hymi
(p. 85) by the " unknown author." That after Psalm ri. is twie
repeated, but in a slightly varied form, after Psalm xcv. by H. K.
and after an unsigned hymn (p. ~4J. Hence these were probabl;
added by Playford according to his own judgment.
PSALM VII. 269
Lest lik« a lion swollen with rage
ho do devour my soul ;
And peace-meal rent it, while there's none
his mallice to controul.
If I have done this thing, 0 Lord,
if I so guilty be ;
If I have ill rewarded him
that was at peace with me ;
Yea, have not oft deliver'd him
that was my causeless foe ;
Then let mine enemie prevail
unto mine overthrow.
Let him pursue and take my soul,
yea, let him to the clay
Tread down my life, and in the dust
my slaughter'd honour lay.
Arise in wrath, O Lord, advance
against my foes' disdain ;
Wake and confirm that judgment now
which Thou did'st foreordain.
So shall the people round about
resort to give Thee praise ;
For their sakes, Lord, return on high,
and high Thy glory raise.
The Lord shall judge the people all :
0 God, consider me
According to my righteousness
and mine integritie.
The wicked's malice, Lord, confound,
but just me ever guide ;
Thou art that righteous God ' by whom
the hearts and rains are try'd.
1 Misprinted ' Good.'
270 PSALMS.
God is my shield, Who doth preserve
those that in heart are right ;
He judgeth both the good and those
that do His justice slight.
Unless the wicked turn again,
the Lord will whet His sword ;
His bow is bent, His quiver is
with shafts of vengeance stor'd.
The fatal instruments of death
in that prepared lie ;
His arrows are ordain'd 'gainst him
that persecuteth me.
Behold, the wicked travelleth
with his iniquitie ;
Exploits of mischief he conceives,
but shall bring forth a lye.
The wicked digged, and a pit
for others' ruine wrought ;
But in the pit which he hath made
Shall he himself be caught.
To his own head his wickedness
shall be returned home ;
And on his own accursed pate
his cruelty shall come.
But I, for all His righteousness,
the Lord will magnifie ;
And ever praise the glorious Name
of Him that is on high. G. H. (p. 30.
271
PSALM I.1
LEST is the man that never would
In couiicels of th' ungodly share,
Nor hath in way of sinners stood,
Nor sitten in the scorner's chair.
But in God's Law sets his delight,
And makes that Law alone to be
His meditation day and night :
He shall be like an happy tree,
Which, planted by the waters, shall
With timely fruit still loden stand ;
His leaf shall never fade, and all
Shall prosper that he takes in hand.
The wicked are not so ; but they
Are like the chaff, which from the face
Of earth is driven by winds away,
And finds no sure abiding place.
Therefore shall not the wicked be
Able to stand the Judge's doom ;
Nor in the safe society
Of good men shall the wicked come.
For God Himself vouchsafes to know
The way that right'ous men have gone ;
And those ways which the wicked go
Shall utterly be overthrown, (p. 54.)
' ' This has no signature, bnt Psalm ii., which follows immediately,
KM; and above Psalm i. is " Two other Psalms to this Tone, of a
uew translation."
272
PSALMS.
PSALM II.
HY are the heathen swell'd with rage,
The people vain exploits devise ?
The kings and potentates of earth
Combin'd in one great faction rise ?
And taking councels 'gainst the Lord
And 'gainst His Christ, presume to say,
' Let us in sunder break their bonds,
And from us cast their cords away.'
But He that sits in heaven shall laugh,
The Lord Himself shall them deride ;
Then shall He speak to them in wrath,
And in sore anger vex their pride.
' But I am l God, and seated King
On Sion, His most holy hill ;
I will declare the Lord's decree,
Nor can I hide His sacred will.
He said to Me, Thou art My Son,
This day have I begotten Thee ;
Make Thy request, and I will grant,
The heathen shall Thy portion be.
Thou shalt possess earth's farthest bounds,
And there an awful sceptre sway ;
Whose pow'r shall dash and break them all,
Like vessels made of brittle clay.'
1 Printed " But I by God." This might be by - through God . .
I will declare. But it is harsh, and forestalls what becomes a repeti-
tion, " He said to me." I have ventured to read ' am.' Vulgate,
" Ilex, ab eo."
PSALM V. 273
Now therefore, 0 ye kings, be wise ;
Be Teamed, ye that judge the earth ;
Serve our great God iu fear; rejoice,
But tremble in your highest mirth.
0 kiss the Son, lest He be wroth,
And straight ye perish from the way :
When once His anger burns, thrice blest
Are all that make the Son their stay.
G. H. (p. 54.)
PSALM V.
,^j£ OKD, to my words encline Thine ear,
My .meditation weigh ;
My King, my God, vouchsafe to hear
My cry to Thee, I pray.
Thou in the morn shalt hear my mone ;
For in the morn will I
Direct my prayers to Thy throne,
And thither lift mine eye.
Thou art a God, Whose puritie ,
Cannot in sins delight ;
No evil, Lord, shall dwell with Thee,
Nor fools stand in Thy sight.
Thou hat'st those that unjustly do,
Thou slay'st the men that lye ;
The bloody man, the false one too,
Shall be abhorr'd by Thee.
Bat in th' abundance of Thy grace
Will I to Thee draw near,
And toward Thy most holy place
Will worship Thee in fear.
274 PSALMS.
Lord, lead me in Thy righteousness,
Because of all my foes ;
And to my dym aud sinful eyes
Thy perfect way disclose.
For wickedness their insides are,
Their mouths no truth retain,
Their throat an open sepulcher,
Their nattering tongues do fain.
Destroy them, Lord, and by their own
Bad couucels let them fall
In hight of their transgression ;
O Lord, reject them all ;
Because against Thy Majesty
They vainly have rebell'd.
But let all those that trust in Thee
With perfect joy be fill'd :
Yea, shout for joy for evermore,
Protected still by Thee ;
Let them that do Thy name adore
In that still joyful! bee.
For God doth righteous men esteem,
And them for ever bless ;
His favour shall encompass them, —
A shield in their distress.
VI. SECULAR POEMS.
WITH ADDITIONS FROM MSB.
NOTE.
The sources of the poems of this section are stated irj
the several Notes. There are here also interesting!
additions. G. '
L SONNETS
SEJfT BY GEORGE HERBERT TO HIS MOTHER AS A
NEW YEAR'S GIFT FROM CAMBRIDGE.1
Y God, where is that ancient heat to-
wards Thee
Wherewith wholeshoals of martyrs
once did burn,
Besides their other names ? Doth
poetrie
Wear Venus' liverie, onely serve her turn ?
Why are not sonnets made of Thee, and layes 5
Upon Thine altar burnt ? Cannot Thy love
heighten a spirit to sound out Thy praise
As well as any she ? Cannot thy Dove
Outstrip their Cupid easilie in flight ?
Or, since Thy wayes are deep, and still the same,
Will not a verse runne smooth that bears
Thy Name?2
Why doth that fire, which by Thy power and might
Each breast does feel, no braver fuel choose
Then that which one day worms may chance
refuse ?
Sure, Lord, there is enough in Thee to drie 1 5
Oceans of ink ; for, as the Deluge did
Cover the earth, so doth Thy Majestie.
Each cloud distills Thy praise, and doth forbid
1 On these Sonnets see the Memorial-Introduction as before. They
W Uken from Walton's " Life " of Herbert, where they are called
»8onnet' = a double one, like Shakespeare's Somiet* V. and VI.,
XV. and XVI., XXVII. and XXVIII., Ac. *»
1 11 10-11. Suggested by a remembrance of the proverb, 'Still
run deep.
278
SECULAR POEMS.
Poets to turn it to another use ;
Eoses and lilies speak Thee, and to make 20
A pair of cheeks of them is Thy abuse.
Why should I women's eyes for crystal take?
Such poor invention burns in their low minde,
Whose fire is wild, and doth not upward go,
To praise, and on Thee, Lord, some inkbes tow/25
Open the bones, and you shall nothing finde
In the best face but filth ; when, Lord, in Thee
The beauty lies in the discoverie.
II. INSCRIPTION IN THE PARSONAGE,
BEMERTON.1
TO MY SUCCESSOR.
F thou chance for to find
A new House to thy mind,
And built without thy Cost ;
Be good to the Poor
As God gives thee store,
And then my Labour's not lost.
ANOTHER VERSION.
Fuller writes in his character of The Faithful Minister:
clergyman who built his house from the grouud wrote on it tb
counsel to his successor :'
If thou dost find
An house built to thy mind,
Without thy cost ;
Serve thou the more
God and the poor ;
My labour is not lost.
279
III. ON LORD DANGERS.1
\ AC RED marble, safely keepe
His dust who under thee must sleepe
Untill the graves againe restore
Theire dead, and time shal be no more.
Meaue while, if Hee which all thiuges weares 5
Doe mine thee, or if the tears
Are shed for him dissolve thy frame,
Thou art requited ; for his fame,
His vertues, and his worth shal bee
Another monument for thee. 10
G. HERBEET.
IV. ON SIR JOHN DANVERS.2
By the same (G«orge Herbert), Orator of [the] University at Cam-
bridge ; pinned on the curtaiue of the picture of the old Sir Johu
Danvers, who was both a handsome and a good man :
tsse not by ;
;arch, and you may
nd a treasure
brth your stay,
bat makes a Danvers
ould you find?
a fayre bodie
fayre mind.
Sr John Danvers' earthly part
Here is copied out by art ;
But his heavenly and divine
In his progenie doth shine.
Had he only brought them forth,
Know that much had been his worth.
Ther's no monument to a sonne ;
Read him there, and 1 have done.
1 Our text is taken from the monument in the church of Danntsey.
There are nirrerti<»ns of the hitherto printed texts: eg. 1.3,'graves"
for 'yeares;' 1. 6, ' the' for 'thy;' 1. 10, 'for' for • to'— the second
very important. Line 7 is — if the tears [that] are shed [by mourners J
for him [<lc>] dissolve thy frame, &c. See mure in the longer Note*
and lllifstriLtioris ' u u), as before.
• I take this from Aubrey and Jarkson's " Wiltshire " (pp. 221-6),
where the preceding also appears, and in its text U fonnd the scarce
of the continued misprint of' thy ' for ' the.' The following is Jack-
tan's note on the lines, so titr as require 1 here : ' Sir John Danvers,
tnwr, married Elizabeth Nevill, fourth daughter aud co-heiress
280
V. A PARADOX.1
THAT THE SICK ARE IN A BETTEB CASE THEN THE
WHOLE.
(From Eawlinscm MSS. in Bodleian, Oxford, p. 78.)
[ OU who admire yourselves because
You neither grone nor weepe,
And think it contrary to nature's laws
To want one ounce of sleepe ;
Your strong beleife 5
Acquits yourselves, and gives ye sick all greife.
Your state to ours is contrary ;2
That makes you thiuke us poore :
So Black-Moores think us foule, and wee
Are quit w"' ym, and more : 10
Nothing can see
And judg of things but mediocrity.3
The sick are in ymselves a state
Wch health hath nought to doe ;4
of John, Lord Latimer. She re-married Sir Edmnnd Carey. He
fine monument in the church of Stowe, co. Northampton, is drscrib
in Baker's History of that county i. 447. George Herbert
Bemerton, having been in the first year of his age in 1594, when 8i;
John Danvers, senior, died, could only have known his character hj
report.' It seems somewhat improbable that Herbert really com-
posed these lines. See on his step-father, Sir John Danvers.
' From the Rawlinsou MS., corrective of the text as furnished by
Dr. Bliss to Pickering. " The Synagogue" of Christopher Harvey
contains a parallel poem, showing that he knew of this of Herbert's.
3 Written, as shown by this line, when sick, or rather when
failing.
3 Here used for one who is in the mean or middle state between
the two; neither in perfect health nor under the full sway of sickness:
one who was, in fact, in the state in which Herbert then was — failing.
* A curious ellipse of ' with.' Can ' which ' be an error for
•where'?
A PARADOX. 281
How know you that or tears p"ceed from woe, 15
And not fro better fate ?
Since that Mirth hath
Her waters alsoe and desyred bath.
How know you yl ye sighs wee send
Fro want of breath pr'ceede, ao
Not fro excesse ? and therefore we do spend
That wch we do not neede :
So trembling may
As well shew inward warblings as decay.
Cease y° to judge calamityes 15
By outward forme and shew,
But view yourselves, and inward turn yor eyes,
Then you shall fully know
That your estate
Is, of ye two, ye farre more desperate. 30
You ajlwayes feare to feele those smarts
Wch we but sometimes p"ve ;
Each little comfort much affects or3 hearts,
None but gross joyes you move ;
Why, then confesse 35
Your feares in number more, yor joyes are lesse.
Then for yorselves not us embrace
Plaints to bad fortune due ;
For though you visitt us, and plaint or case,
Wee doubt much whether you 40
Come to our bed
To comfort us, or to be comforted. G. HERBEKT.
1 II. 83, 39. T.e printed text* hitherto have misread 'or' for' or =
282 SECULAR POEMS.
VI. G. H.
TO YE QUEENE OF BOHEMIA.1
; RIGHT soule, of whome if any countrey
knowue
Worthy had bin, thou hadst not lost
thine owne;
No Earth can bee thy Jointure, For the sunne
And starres alone vnto ye pitch doe runne
And pace of thy swift vertues ; onely they 5
Are thy dominion. Those that rule in clay
Stick fast therein, but thy transcendent soule
Doth for two clods of earth ten spheres controule,
And though starres shott from heauen loose their
light,
Yet thy braue beames, excluded from their2 right, 10
Maintaine their Lustre still, & shining cleere
Turne watrish Holland to a chrystalline sphere.
Mee thinkes, in that Dutch optick I doe see
Thy curious vertues much more visibly :
There is thy best Throue, for afflictions are 15
A foile to sett of[f] worth & make it rare.
Through y' black tiffany thy vertues shine
Fairer and richer. Now wee know what's thine,
And what is fortune's. Thou hast singled out
Sorrowes & griefs, to fight with them about zo
At there owne weapons, wlhout pomp or state
To second thee against their cunning hate.
O what a poore thing 'tis to bee a Queene
When scepters, state, Attendants are y6 screene
Betwixt us & the people ! when-as glory 25
1 See the longer Notes and Illustrations (»»), as before, on
poem, which is derived 1'rora Harleian MS. 3910, pp. 121-2 — u
before printed.
* ' There ' for ' their ' in MS. corrected.
TO Y* QUEENE OF BOHEMIA. 283
Lyes round about us to helpe out ye story,
When all things pull & hale, y1 they may bring
A slow behauiour to the style of king ;
When sense is made by Comments, But y* face
Whose natiue beauty needs not dresse or lace 30
To serue it forth, & being stript of all
Is self-sufficient to bee the thrall
Of thousand harts : y1 face doth figure thee
And show thy vndiuided Maiestye
Wch misery cannot vntwist, but rather 35
Addes to the vnion, as lights doe gather
Splendour from darkues. So close sits ye crowne
About thy temples y' ye furious frowne
Of opposition cannot place thee where
Thou shalt not be a Queene, & conquer there. 40
Yet hast thou more dominions : God doth giue
Children for kingdomes to thee ; they shall Hue
To conquer new ones, & shall share ye frame
Of th' vniuerse, like as ye windes, & name
The world anew : ye sunne shall neuer rise 45
But it shall spy some of their victories.
Their hands shall clipp ye Eagles wiuges, & chase
Those rauening Harpyes wch peck at thy face
At once to Hell, without a baiting while
At Purgatory, their inchanted He 50
And Paris garden. Then let their perfume
And Spanish sents, wisely layd vp, presume
To deale wlh brimstone, y1 vntamed stench
Whose fier, like their malice, nought can quench.
But ioyes are stord for thee; thou shalt returne
Laden wlh comforts thence, where now to niorne
Is thy chief gouerment, to manage woe,
To curbe some Rebell teares wch faine would flow,
Making a Head & spring against thy Reason.
This is thy empire yet : till better season 60
Call thee from out of y1 surrounded Laud;
That habitable sea, & brinish strand,
284 SECULAR POEMS.
Thy teares not needing. For y' hand Divine,
Wch migles water wth thy Ehenish wine,
Will power full ioyes to thee ; but dregs to those
And meet theire tast who are thy bitter foes. 66
I/ENVOY.
HINE on, Maiestick soule, abide
Like Dauid's tree, planted beside
The Flemmish riuers : in the end T|
Thy fruite shall wlh their drops contend ;
Great God will surely dry those teares,
Which now y' moist land to thee beares.
Then shall thy Glory, fresh as flowers
In water kept, maugre the powers 75
Of Diuell, Jesuitt, & Spaine,
From Holland saile into the Maine :
Thence wheeling on, it compass shall
This oure great Sublunary Ball,
And with that Ring thy fame shall wedd 8c
Eternity into one Bedd.
VII. PARENTALIA.
NOTE.
The •' Parentalia'' poems were first published at the
end of Dr. Donne's Sermon on the death of Herbert'sl
mother. G.
SACRED TO A MOTHER'S MEMORY.
H Mater, quo te deplorem fonte?
Dolores
Qnae guttae poterunt enumerare
meos? .
Sicca meis lacrymis Thamesis viciua
videtur,
Virtutumque choro siccior ipse tno.
n flumen moerore nigrum si funderer ardens,
Laudibus band fierem sepia justa tnis.
Bantam istaec scribo gratus, ne tu mihi tan tarn
Mater: et ista Dolor nnnc tibi Metra1 parit.
II.
ORNELIAE sanctae, graves Semproniae,
Et qnicqaid nspiam est severae foeminae,
Conferte lacrymas ; Ilia quae vos miscuit
estrasqne laudes, poscit et raixtas genas.
amque hanc ruinam salva Gravitas defleat,
udorque constet vel solutis crinibas ;
uandoqae vultns sola majestas, Dolor.
Decas malicrum periit ; et metaunt viri
A pl»y on the words, " Mater is Metre when Grief will* it »o."
288 PARENTALIA.
Utrumque sexum dote ne mulctaverit.
Non ilia soles terere comptu lubricos,
Struices superbas atque turritum caput
Molita, reliquum deinde garriens diem, —
Nam post Babelem linguae adest confusio, —
Quin post modestam, qualis integras decet,
Substructionem capitis et nimbum brevem,
Animam recentem rite curavit sacris
Adorta numen acri et ignea prece.
Dein familiam lustrat, et res prandii,
Horti colique distributim pensitat.
Suum cui'que tempus et locus datur.
Inde exiguntur pensa crudo vespere.
Eatione certa vita constat et domus,
Prudenter inito quot-diebus calculo.
Tota renident aede decus et suavitas
Animo renidentes prius. Sin rarior
Magnatis appulsu extulit se occasio,
Surrexit una et ilia, seseque extulit :
Occasione certat imo et obtinet.
Proh ! quantus imber, quanta labri comitas,
Lepos severus, Pallas mixta Gratiis ;
Loquitur numellas, compedes, et retia ;
Aut si negotio hora sumenda est, rei
Per angiportus et maeandros labitur,
Ipsos Catones provocans oraculis.
Turn quanta tabulis artifex ? quae scriptio ?
Bellum putamen, nucleus bellissimus
Sententiae cum voce mire convenit.
Volant per orbem literae notissimae :
0 blanda dextra, neutiquam istoc pulveris,
Quo mine recumbis, scriptio merita est tua,
Pactoli arena tibi tumulus est unicus.1
Adde his trieutem Musices, quae mollieus
Mulcensque dotes caeteras, visa est quasi
1 The allusion is to the dust sprinkled from a small castor, whicl
was formerly used iii letter-writiiig tu dry the ink.
PARENTALIA. 289
Caelestis harmoniae breve praeludinm.
Quam mira tandem sublevatrix pauperum ?
Lauguentiom baculus, teges jacentium,
Commune cordis palpitantis balsamum :
Beuedictiones publicae cingunt caput,
Caelique refernnt et praeoccupant modum.
Fatisco, referens tanta quae numerant mei
Solum dolores, — et dolores, stellalae !
At tu qui inepte haec dicta censes filio,
Nato parentis aufereus Encomium,
Abito trunce cum tuis pudoribus.
Ergo ipse solum mntus atque excors ero
Strepente mundo tinnulis praeconiis P
Mihine Matris urna clausa est unico,
Herbae exoletae, ros-marinus aridns ?
Matrine linguam refero, solum ut mordeam ?
Abito barde ! Quam pie istic sum impudens !
Tu vero Mater perpetim laudabere
Nato dolenti : literae hoc debent tibi
Queis me educasti ; sponte chartas illinunt
Fructum laborum consecntae maximum
Laudaudo Matrem, cum repugnant inscii.
m.
,UR splendes, o .Phoebe P ecquid demit-
tere matrem
Ad nos cum radio tarn rutilante potesP
At snperat caput ilia tuum, quantum ipsa cadaver
Mens snperat ; corpus solum elementa tenent.
Scilicet id splendes : haec est tibi causa micandi
Et lucro apponis gaudia sancta tuo.
u
290
PARENT ALIA.
Verum heus si nequeas coelo demittere matrem,
Sitque omnis motus nescia, tanta quies,
Fac radios saltern ingemines, ut dextera tortos
Implicet, et matrem, matre manente, petam.
IV.
UID nugor calamo favens P
Mater perpetuis uvida gaudiis,
Horto pro tenui colit
Edenem Boreae flatibus invium.
Quin coeli mihi sunt mei
Materni decus, et debita nominis ;
Dumque his invigilo frequens
Stellarum socius, pellibus exuor.
Quare Sphaeram egomet meam
Connixus, digitis impiger urgeo :
Te, mater, celebrans diu,
Noctu te celebrans luminis aemulo.
Per te nascor in hunc globum,
Exemploqne tuo nascor in alterum :
Bis tu mater eras mihi,
Ut currat paribus gloria tibiis.
v.
)OETI, deliciae Dominae, marcescite
tandem ;
Ornastis capulum, nee superesse
licet.
Ecce decus vestrum spinis horrescit, acuta
Cultricem revocans anxietate manum :
PARENTALIA. 291
Terrain et funus olent flores : Dominaeque cadaver
Contiguas stirpes afflat, eaeque rosas.
[n terram violae capite inclinautur opaco,
Quaeqne domus Dorainae sit, gravitate decent.
Quare baud vos hortos, Bed coemeteria dico,
Dum torus absentem quisque reponit heram.
Buge, perite omnes ; nee posthac exeat ulla
Quaesitum Domiuam gemma vel herba suam.
Cuncta ad radices redeant, tumulosque paternos,
Nempe sepnlcra Satis numen inempta dedit ;
Occidite ; aut sane tantisper vivite, donee
Vespere ros maestis funus houestet aquis.
VI.
ALENE, frustra es, cur miserum pre-
mens
Tot quaestionnm flnctibus obruis,
Arterias tractans micantes
Corporeae finidaeque molis
Aegroto mentis ? quam neque pixides
Nee tarda possunt pharmaca consequi,
Utrumque si praederis Indum,
Ultra animus spatiatur exlex.
Impos medendi, occidere si potes,
Nee sic parentem ducar ad optimam :
Ni sancte, uti Mater, recedam,
Morte magis viduabor ilia.
Quin cerne ut erres inscie, brachium
Tentando sanum : si calet, aestuans,
Ardore scribendi calescit,
Mater iuest saliente vena.
292 PARENTALIA.
Si totus infler, si tumeatn crepax,
Ne membra culpes, causa animo latet
Qui parturit laudes parentis :
Nee gravidis medicina tuta est.
Irregularis nunc habitus mihi est :
Non exigatur crasis ad alterum.
Quod tu febrem censes, salubre est,
Atque ammo medicatur unum.
VII.
'ALLIDA materni Genii atque exsangu
imago,
In nebulas similesque tuires gaudia
numquid
Mutata ? et pro Matre mihi phantasma dolosum
Uberaque ae'ria hiscentem fallentia natum ?
Vae nubi pluvia gravidae, non lacte, measque
Ridenti lacrymas quibus unis concolor unda es
Quin fugias p mea non fuerat tarn nubila Juno,
Tarn segnis facies aurorae uescia vernae,
Tarn languens genitrix cineri supposta fugaci ;
Verum augusta parens, sanctum os caeloque
locandum,
Quale paludosos jamjam lictura recessus
Praetulit Astraea, aut solio Themis alma vetusto
Pensilis, atque acri dirimens Examine lites.
Hunc vultum ostendas, et tecum nobile spectra
Quod superest vitae, insumam ; Solisque jugale.
Ipse tuae solum aduectam, sine murmure, thensa
Nee querar ingratos, studiis dum tabidus insto,
Effluxisse dies, suffocatamve Minervam,
Aut spes productas, barbataque somnia vertam
In vicium mundo sterili, cui cedo cometas
Ipse suos, tanquam digno, palleutiaque astra.
PARENTALIA. 293
Est mihi bis qninis laqueata doranncula tignis
Rure ; brevisque hortus, cnjus cum vellere florum
Luctatur spatium, qualem tamen eligit aequi
Judicii dominus, flores ut juuctius halent
Stipati, rudibusque volis impervius hortus
Sit quasi fasciculus crescens, et nidus odorum.
Hie ego tuque erimus, variae sufti tibus herbae
Quotidie pasti : tantum verum indue vultum
Aflectusque mei similem ; nee languida misce
Ora meae memori menti : ne dispare cultu
Pngnaces, teneros florum turbemus odores,
Atque inter reliquos horti crescentia foetus
Nbstra etiam paribus marcescant gaudia fatis.
VIII.
AEVAM piamqnc dum lubetner semi,
tarn
Grand! reacque praefero,
Darpsit maligunm sidus hanc modestiam
Vinumque felle miscuit.
Hinc fremere totus et miuari gestio
Ipsis severus orbibus,
Tandem prehensa comiter lacernula
Susurrat aure quispiam,
Elaec fuerat olim potio Domini tui.
Gusto proboque dolium.
IX.
00, Genitrix, scriptum proles tibi sedula
mittit.
Siste parum cantus, dum legis ista, tuos.
Nosse sui quid agant, quaedam est quoque musica
sanctis,
Qoaeque olim fuerat cura, manere potest.
294 PARENTALIA.
Nos misere flemus, solesque obducimus almos
Occiduis, tanquam duplice nube, genis.
Interea classem magnis Rex iustruit ausis :
Nos autem flemus : res ea sola tuis.
Ecce solutura est, veutos causata morautes :
Sin pluviam : fletus suppeditasset aquas.
Tillius l incumbit Dano, Gallusque marinis :
Nos flendo : haec nostrum tessera sola ducum.
Sic aevum exigitur tardum, dum praepetis anni
Mille rotae nimiis impediuntur aquis.
Plura tibi missurus eram; nam quae mihi laurus,
Quod nectar, nisi cum te celebrare diem ?
Sed partem in scriptis etiam dum lacryma poscit,
Diluit oppositas candidus humor aquas.
• EMPE hujusque notos tenebricosos,
Et maestum nimio madore coelutn,
Tellurisque Britannicae salivam
Injuste satis arguit viator.
At te commoriente, magna Mater,
Recte, quern trahit, aerem repellit
Cum probro madidum, reumque difHat.
Nam te nunc ager, urbs et aula plorant :
Te nunc Anglia Scotiaeque binae
Quin te Cambria pervetusta deflet,
Deducens lacrymas prioris aevi
Ne serae meritis tuis venirent.
Non est angulus uspiam serenus,
Nee cingit mare, nunc inundat omnes.
1 John Tzerclaes, Count de Tilly ; born 1559; died 1632.
PARENTALIA. 295
XI.
librata suis haeret radicibus ilex
Nescia Vulturnis cedere firrnamanet;
Post ubi crudelem sentit divisa securem,
Quo placet oblato, mortua fertur, hero :
Arbor et ipse inversa vocor : dumqae insitus almao
Assideo Matri, robore vinco cedros.
Nunc sorti pateo, expositus sine matre procellis,
Lubricus, et superans mobilitate salum.
Tu radix, tu petra mihi firmissima, Mater,
Ceu polypus, chelis saxa prehendo tenax :
Non tibi nunc soli filum abrupere sorores
Dissutus videor funere et ipse tuo.
Unde vagans passim recte vocer alter Ulysses,
Alteraque haec tua mors, Ilias esto mihi.
xn.
ACESSE Stoica pleba.obambulans cautes.
Exuta strato carnis, ossibus coustans,
lisque siccis, adeo ut os Molossorum
Haud glubat inde tres teruncios escae.
Dolere prohibes ? aut dolere me gentis
Adeo inficetae, plumbeae, Meduseae,
Ad saxa speciem retrahentis humanam,
Tantoque nequioris optima Pyrrha.
At forte Matrem perdere baud soles demons :
Quin nee potes ; cui praebuit tigris partum.
Proinde parco belluis, nee irascor.
296 PARENTALIA.
xin.
EPITAPHIUM.
fIC sita foeminei laus et victoria sexus :
Virgo pudens, uxor fida, severa parens ;
Magnatumque inopumque aequum cer-
tamen et ardor :
Nobilitate illos, hos pietate rapit.
Sic excelsa humilisque simul loca dissita junxit,
Quicquid habet tellus, quicquid et astra fruens.
XIV.
aadtveg epKog, a/J.avp'bf Trvev/j.aTO£ ayyoe
ira.pa. ru^u/^w fiifeo, <j>iXe, (AOVOV.
NoD 3' O.VTOV Ta(j)0c tar liarrj/o' 0eyyoc ya/o SKEIVOV
Qty-ywdr] [AOVOV, we fticot, tTrai/Xtv £X£t'
Nuv opaag on caXXoe airtipirov WTTOC airawyovQ
Ou ffaOpov, ovSe fjieXuv (.irXtro, d\\a voog.
"Of ^ta <T(i)fMariov irportpov /cat j/vv ^t'
, dvpiduv wg ^t'a, V£t/*£
XV.
, yuvatk'wi' ayXrj, avtipwiruv epic,
ia ^aifjiovuv, 0£ou yea»^
wc vvv atyiirTCHTat, j6ov KOI
rou(ra KVK
aotyiqv, fl
, r»yv r' iiriffTT]fj.riv fiiov.
ro y\.a.<j)vpov, teal f.ie\ip/ooov rpoiruv,
AoywV re fyiXrpov, aW iiTTf&Xfat
Nwi/ ^' w^ov tVfovcT <ic orparog
TO irdy, KayuV jj a»c
PARENTALIA. 297
KJ/TTOV avvuQuiv a.vQivt)v tvuliav,
Mmv r' arapirov ffv/j.iroptvtodai £pd<ra£.
'Eyw £e pivt £v/nfia\uv i^i'ijXarw
EiVoi/ Tv-^otfii r»/<7<r apiarrjc arpairov,
t KflflTTOV, T) t'lXAoK /3tOl5v.
XVI.
XaXfTTOV ^OKCt CdKlri'ffftl,
ow Caicpuffai
i' ^£ ITCUTWI
apwavecrdai.
ov Ttf avSOiv
ToXac, f<0e y' "Apyoc ft*;*'
IToXi/0|U^taroc, TroXwrXaf,
"Iva fitjrpof tvdevovmrjs
s SiaKpi
trdpa«ri
XVII.
Vm£w yeviTtipavi f.iraia£ovffi Km aXXot,
er' tun,
aprnje KOivrjv ytvtrtipav
'{«: tvi davua roaov a<f>eTfpi£tiv' ov$£ yap ucwp,
li> <f>iyyos, KOIVOV T ayaQov, f.itav elf dvpav ilpynv
Jlfjioaiov T "iv^saXaa. KO.\OV, Oeiov re KO.I
A(a£&> ytvirtipav, iiraia^ovtrt yt
'VK in paXXoutvri^ yaptaiv /3f/3o^
\Mrap a^fi peyaXy KtvTovp.tvu.1' CVTC yap avrai
ol (rvXXaXtovffty, eov voiKtX^iaTot ap^ijv
f, // fltXovr) ff<j>a\tpw Ktjp Tpavuart vvrrti
298 PARENTALIA.
"E,pyov aftapTrjKvia, viov iriirXov cuyuari OTLKTOV
tkran'ouera, yo<j> KCL\ irivQtat ovy^povv.
ytvirtipav, iircnu£ovai)> OTrtDpcu,
OVK tri StairoivriQ y\VKtp<p peXtc&vi rpa^CiffaC
7Hj plot fjtXioio $iKT]v, a.KT~ivciG llvrot
IIjoaEtc eiapivovg re ^apalc lrtK/2van K'/JTTOV'
Aurap o^' aw flavaroc KU/OITJS we rj\tos a Jog
^Lupiov Tjrrrjflete flov\i')f*acri, iravra
Zu> $' avroc fipffxy ri Tn>titi)v, <i'c fftva
A.lvov bnov £weiv k*ai irvivfj-ciTos aXXo
ITvcv^a, jGt'ou Trapo^ov povvoic f.iric.oai
XVIII.
r tTrafyptouivTU 0a/xr/<7eoc, at/ce
airavpopi.vrig, oyicov ityeiaQt
Nuv 0t/ntc opcbvaiT) ptyaXrjs iirl ytirovog a'iffy
OvXvp.ir6i>(}£ ftiftdv v/j,fjnv avfora^eVoic.
"AXXa fievtlr, ov yap rapa^oc Trort
Kat irpiirov (5^£ Trapa ^aiepvoeaoi pteii>
XIX.
manibus calamos falcemqu
resumptam
Eure, eibi dixit Musa fuisse probro.
Aggreditur Matrem, conductis carmine Parcis,
Funereque hoc cultum vindicat aegra suum.
Non potni non ire acri stimulante flagello :
Quin Matris superans carmina poscit honos.
Eia, agedum, scribo : vicisti, Musa ; sed audi,
Stulta semel scribo, perpetuo ut sileam.
VIII. ANTI-TAMI-CAMI-CATEGORIA
ET GEORGII HERBERTI, ANGLI MUSAE RESPON-
SORIAE, AD ANDREAE MELVINI, SCOTI,
ANTI-TAMI-CAMI-CATEGORIAM.
NOTE.
N our Memorial-Introduction we hare stated
and examined critically the historic grounds on
which the " Anti-Tami-Cami-Categoria" rests,
as well as the controversy in relation to Mel-
ville and Herbert. Thither the reader is referred. This
memorable satire was originally published in 1604. My
text is taken from the following excessively rare edition,
with which David Laing, Esq., LL.D. Edinburgh, fa-
voured me :
PARASYNAGMA PERTHENSE
ET
IVRAMENTUM ECCLESIAE
SCOTICANAE
ET
A. M. ANTITAMICA-
MICATEGORIA.
Anno M. i >< .\.\.
Quarto— Title and pp. 3-47. " Anti-Tami-Cami-Cate-
roria" occupies pp. 41-47. Stanza 43 in this edition
differs from the usual text, which is as follows :
" Quisquis hanc, surda negat aure, qua se
Fundit ubertim liquidas sub auras,
Ille ter prudens, sapiensque, et omni ex
Parte beatus."
;hat is:
302 NOTE.
" Who turns a deaf ear to all these,
Nor sinfully will himself please,
As from the air and sea and earth
Pleasure her tempting snares pours forth,
He is thrice prudent and wise of heart,
Perfectly happy in every part."
It also furnishes variations and an additional stanza there
after, as inserted in its place. Mr. W. Aldis Wright, a;
before, informs us that in the copy of above edition o
" Anti-Tami," &c., in the University Library, Cambridge
there are inserted after " Porr'gere Regi" (1. 12), in ;
contemporary hand, the following — the end of the line;
being, unfortunately, cut off by the binder :
" Rege quo mains, meliusne [terris]
Fata donavere nihil, dab[untur]
Gratius, quamuis redean[t in aurum]
Tempora pris[cum]
" Cuius in scripto Themis, i
Suda, sub fibris Sophio ex
Suauis in vultu Charis in
Entheus ardo[r]"
See Horat. Carm. iv. 2, 37-40.
Another edition is given in " Ecclesiastes Solomonis. A tic
tore Joan. Viviano. Canticum Solomonis : Nee non Epi
grammata Sacra, Per Ja. Duportum. Accedunt
Herberti, Musae Responsoriae, ad Andreae Melvini, Anti
Tami-Cami-Categoriam. Cant. 1662. 12°." There
a separate title-page, as follows : " Georgii Herberti
Angli Musae Responsoriae, ad Andreae Melvini, Scoti
Anti-Tami-Cami-Categoriam. Cantabrigiae : Ex Officini
Joannis Field, celeberrimae Academiae Typographi
Anno Dom. 1662." pp. 1-30 (separate pagination). Thit
seems to have been the first edition of the " Musae Re
sponsoriae." Our text of Herbert's " Response" is from it
G.
PEG SUPPLICI
vangelicorvm Ministrorwn in Anglia, ad Serenw-
iimum Begem contra Larvatam geminae
Academiae Gorgonem Apologia;
SIVE
ANTI-TAMI-CAM1-CATEGOEIA,
Authore A[NDKEA] M[ELVINO].
EESPONSUM, KON DICTUM.
NSOLENS, sudax, facinus ncfaudum,
Scilicet, poscit ratio ut decori,
Poscit ex omni oflBcio ut sibi meus
Coiiscia recti
tudam ChriBti, vigilemque curam, 5
aae pias terris animas relictis
blevans deducit in astra, nigroque
Invidet Oreo,
sacri casta ratione cultus,
Sacro-sancti OflBcii decoro, 10
pplicem ritu veteri libellum
Porr'gere Eegi,
.304 ANTI-TAMI-CAMI-CATEGORIA.
Simplici mente atque animo integello,
Spiritu recto, et studiis modestis,
Numinis sancti veniam, et benigni
Regis honorem
Rite praefantem: Scelus expiandum
Scilicet tauro[rum], et ovium,1 suumque
Millibus centum, voluisse nudo
Tangere verbo
Praosulum fastus ; monuisse Ritus
Impios, deridiculos, ineptos,
Lege, ceu labes maculasque lecta ex
Gente fugaudos.
Jusque-jurandum ingemuisse jura
Exigi contra omnia ; turn misellis
Meutibus tristem laqueum injici per
Fasque nefasque.
Turbida illimi crucis in lavacro
Signa consignem ? magico rotatu
Verba devolvam ? sacra vox sacrata im-
murmuret unda
Strigis in morem ? Rationis usu ad
Fabor Infantem vacuum ? canoras
Ingeram nugas minus audienti
Dicta puello ?
Parvulo impostis manibus sacrabo
Gratiae foedus ? digitone Sponsae
Annulus sponsi impositus sacrabit
Connubiale
Foedus aeternae bonitatis ? Unda
Num salutari mulier sacerdos
Tinget in vitam, Sephoramque reddet 2
Lustrica mater ?
1 Tanrorum, ovium. (1662 Ed.) ' See Exodns iv. 36.
ANTI-TAMI-CAM1-CATEGORIA. 305
Pilei quadrum capiti rotundo 45
Bite quadrabit ? Pharium Camillo
Supparum Christi, et decus Aiitichristi
Pontificale ?
'astor examen gregis exigendum
3uret invitns, celebrare coenam 50
Vomptus arcanam, mcmorando Jesu
Vulnera dira ?
}antibus certent Berecinthia aera
lusicum fractis ? reboentve raaco
?empla mugitu ? Illecebris supremi ah 55
Rector Olympi
JJaptus humanis ? libitumque nobis,
scilicet, Regi id Superum allubescet ?
somniumque aegri cerebri profanum est
Dictio sacra ? 60
Eaud secus lustri Lupa Vaticani
Romuli faecem bibit, et bibendum1
Porrigit poc'lo, populisque et ipsis
Begibus aureo.
Nbn ita aeterni Wittakerus2 acer 65
Luminis vindex patriaeque lumen
Dixit ant sensit ; neque celsa suinmi
Penna Benoldi.3
Certa sublimes aperire calles,
Sneta coelestes iterare cursus, 70
Laeta misceri niveis beatae
Civibus anlae;
" bibendun." (16«2 Ed.)
The illustnons Master of St. John's, Cambridge: William
hiUker : b. 1647, d 1595.
A renowned Puritan divine and controversialist: b. 1549. d.
)7. See my Life of him prefixed to reprint of his Commentaries
Obadiah and Uaggai, in Nichol's Puritan Commentarie*.
X
306 ANTI-TAMI-CAMI-CATEGORIA.
Nec Tami aut Cami accola saniore
Mente, qui coelum sapit in frequent!
Hermatheuaeo et celebri Lycaeo
Culta juveutus,
Cujus affulget genio Jovae lux :
Cui nitens Sol justitiae renidet :
Quern jubar Christ! radiantis alto
Spectat Olympo.
Bucerum1 laudem ? memoremque magnum
Martyrem?2 Gemmas geminas renati
Aurei saec'li, duo dura sacri
Fulmina belli ?
Alterum Camus liquido recursu,
Alterum Tamus trepidante lympha
Audiit, multum stupuitque magno
Ore sonantem.
Anne mulcentem Khodanum et Lemanum
Praedicem Bezam3 viridi in senecta ?
Octies cujus trepidavit aetas
Claudere denos
Solis anfractus, reditusque, et ultra
Quinque percurrens spatiosa in annos
Longiua florem viridantis aevi
Prorogat et ver.
Oris erumpit scatebra perenni
Amnis exundans, gravidique rores
Gratia fecunda animos apertis
Auribus implent.
1 The Reformer— Martin Bucer: b. 1491, d 1551.
* Peter Martyr— another venerable Reformer and Scholar: I
d. 15H2.
« Theodore Beza : b. 1519, d. 1605.
ANTI-TAMI-CAMI-CATEGORIA. 307
Major hie omni invidia, et superstes
MiHibus mille, et Sadeele,1 et omnium
Slaximo CiLViNO,2 aliisqne veri
Testibus aequis ;
Voce olorina liquidas ad undas 105
S\mc canit laudes Genitoris almi,
barmen et nato canit eliquante
N u min is aura,
3ensa de castu sacra puriore,
Oicta de cultu potiore sancta, no
Anna quae in castris jugulent severi
Tramitis hostes.
/ana cantanti juga ninguidarum
Alpium applaudunt, resonantque valles ;
Jura concentu nemorum sonoro, 1 1 5
Et pater Ister.
Consonant longe ; pater et bicornis
Rhenus ascensum ingeminat : Garumna,
Scquana, atque Arar, Liger : insularnm et
Undipotentum 110
Magna pars intenta Britannicarum
Voce conspirat liquida: solumque
Et salura coeli aemula praecinentis
More modoque
3oncinunt Bezae numeris modisque 125
Et polo plaudunt ; referuntque leges
Liege quas sanxit pins ardor, et Bex
Scoto-britannus.3
Anthony Sadeel, a celebrated French Huguenot divine : b. 1534,
Ml. Hitherto printed Sad eel e, to the ruin of the verse and of
memory of a great and good man.
Nothing more is needed than the simple name. The small
e with ' J. C.' on it, seemed to me magnificent by its very
ibleness, as I looked on neighbouring show-tawdry monuments
obodies or bodies only.
James VI. of Scotland and I. of England. See the historical
in Walton's Life uf Herbert.
)8 ANTI-TAMI-CAMI-CATEGORTA
Sicut edictum in tabulis ahenis
Servat aeternum pia cura Regis,
Qui mare et terras variisque mundum
Temperat horis :
Cujus aequalis Soboles Parent!
Gentis electae Pater atque Cnstos ;
Par et ambobus, veniens utrinque
Spiritus almus ;
Quippe Tres-unus Deus ; unus actus,
Una natura esfc tribus ; una virtus,
Una Majestas, Deltas et una,
Gloria et una.
Una vis immensa, perennis una
Vita, lux una, et sapientia una,
Una mens, una et ratio, una vox, et
Una voluntas.
Lenis, indulgens, facilis, benigna;
Dura et inclemens, rigida et severa ;
Semper aeterna, omnipotens, et aequa,
Semper et alma :
Lucidum cujus speculum est, reflectens
Aureum vultus jubar, et verendum,
Virginis proles, sata coolo, et alti In- >
terpres Olympi :
Qui Patris mentemque animumque sancti
Filius pandit face noctiluca,
Sive doctrinae documenta, seu com-
pendia vitae,
Publicae, privae, sacra scita Eegni
Regis ad nutum referens, domusque
Ad voluntatem Domini instituta
Singula librans,
ANTI-TAMI-CAMI-CATEGORIA. 309
Luce quam Phoebus melior refundit,
Lege qusm legum- tulit ipse -lator,
Cujus exact! officii suprema est
Norma voluntas.
Caeca mens huraaua, homiiuim voluntas 165
Prava, et aflectus rabidi : indigetque
Lace mens, norma officii voluutas,
Lege libido :
Quisquis hanc surda negat aure et orba
Mente dat ferri rapidis procellis, 170
Ter quater caudex, stolidusque et omui ex
Parte misellus.1
Quisquis hanc prava bibit aure, qua se
Fundit ubertim liquidas sub auras,
Ille ter prudens sapiensqne et omni 175
Ex parte beatus.
Ergo vos Cami proceres, Tamiqne,
Quos via flexit malesuadus error,
Denuo rectum, duce Rege Begum, in-
sistite callem. 180
Vos mctus tangit si hominum nee ullus,
At Deum fandi memorem et nefandi
Vindicem sperate, et amoena soils
Tartara Diris ;
Qnae manent sontes animas trncesqne 185
Praesulum fastus, male quos perurit
Pervigil zelus vigilum, et gregis cus-
todia pernox.
Veste bis tincta Tyrio superbos
Murice, et pastos dape pinguiore 190
Eegia quondam aut Saliari inuncta ab-
domine coena.
1 ThU additional stanza from the original edition. See Not*
'lure this fectiou.
310 PRO DISCIPLINA ECCLKSIAE NOSTRAE
Qualis Ursini, Damasique fastus l
Turgidus, luxuque ferox, feroque
Ambitu pugnax, sacram etaedem et urbem 1951
Caede nefanda
Civium incestavit, et orniuosum
Traxit exemplum veniens in aevum
Praesulum quod nobilium indecorus
Provocat ordo. zoc
Quid fames auri sacra? quid cupido
Ambitus diri fera noil propagat
Posteris culpae ? mala damna quanta
Plurima fuudit ?
PEG DISCIPLINA ECCLESIAE NOSTRj
EPIGEAMMATA APOLOGETIC A.
i.
AUGUSTISSIMO POTENTISSIMOQTJE MONARCHAE JACCUJ
D. G. MAGNAE BHITANNIAE, FRANCIAE, ET Hn
NIAE EEGI, FIDEI DEFENSORI, &c, GEO.
BERTUS.
[CCE recedentis foecundo in littore
Sol geuerat populum luce fov
novum.
Ante tui, Caesar, quam fulserat a
favoris,
Nostrae etiam Musae vile fuere lutum ;
Nunc adeo per te vivuut, ut repere possint,
Sintque ausae thalamum solis adire tui.
1 Ammiauus Marcell. lib. 27.
EP1GRAMMATA APOLOGET1CA. 311
II.
ILLUSTKIS. CELSISSIMOQUE CAKOLO, WALLLAE ET
JUVENTUTIS PRINCIPI.
TJAM chartam tibi porrigo recentem,
Humanae decus atque apex juventae,
Obtutu placido benignus affles,
Namque aspectibus e tuis vel unus
Mordaces tineas, nigrasque blattas,
Quas livor mihi parturit, retundet,
Ceu, qnas culta timet seges, pruinas
Nasceutes radii fugant, vel acres
Tantum dulcia leniunt catarrhos.
Sic, o te, juvenem senemve, credat
Mors semper juvenem, senem Britanni.
ra.
BEVEBENDISSIMO IN CHRISTO PATRI AC DOMINO
EPISCOPO VlNTONIENSI, &C.1
AN GTE Pater, coeli custos, quo doctius
uno
Terra nihil, nee quo sanctius astra
vident ;
un mea futilibus numeris se verba viderent
Claudi, pene tuas praeteriere fores,
sd propere dextreque reduxit euntia scnsus,
Ista docens soli scripta quadrare tibi.
1 Launcelot Andrewes : b. 1555, d. 1626.
312 PRO DISCIPLINA ECCLESIAE NOSTRAE
rv.
AD BEGEM EPIGKAMMATA DUO.
Institnti Epigrammatic! Ratio.
SUM millena tuam pulsare negotia mentcin
Constet, et ex ilia pendeat orbis ope;
Ne te productis videar lassare camoenis,
Pro solido, CAESAK, carmine frusta dabo.
Cum tu contundens, Catharos, vultuque librisque,
Grata mihi mensae Bunt analecta tuae
v.
AD MELVINTJM.
)ON mea fert aetas, ut te, veterane,
lacessam ;
Non ut te superem : res tamen ipsa
feret.
Aetatis numerum supplebit causa minorem ;
Sic tu nunc juvenis factus, egoque senex.
Aspice, dum perstas, ut te tua deserat aetas ;
Et mea sint canis scripta referta tuis.
Ecce tamen quam suavis ero ! cum, fine duelli,
Clauserit extremas pugna peracta vices,
Turn tibi, si placeat, fugientia tempora reddam;
Sufficiet votis ista juventa meis.
EPIGRAMMATA APOLOGET1CA. 313
VI.
MOKSTRUM VOCABULI AlfTI-TAMI-CAMI-CATEGOBIA.
Ad enndem.
QUAM bellus homo es ! lepido quam
nomine fingis
Istas Anti-Tami-Cami-Categorias !
o Catharis nova sola placeut ; res, verba no-
van tur :
Quae sapiunt aevum, ceu cariosa jacent.
ain liceat nobis aliquas procudere voces :
Non tibi fingendi sola taberna patet.
um sacra perturbet vester furor omuia, scriptam
Hoc erit, Anti-furi-Puri-Categoria.
ollubra vel cum olim damnaris Regia in ara,
Est Anti-pelvi-Melvi-Categoria.1
vii.
PAETITIO ANTI-TAMI-CAMI-CATEGORIAE.
[RES video partes, quo re distinctius utar,
Anti categoriae, Scoto-Britanne, tuae:
Ritibus2 una sacris opponitur;' altera
eanctos
Praedicat au tores;4 tertia plena Deo est.
'ostremis ambabua idem sentimus uterque ;
Ipse pios laudo ; numen et ipse colo.
Ton nisi prima suas patiuntur praelia lites.
0 bene quod dnbium possidcamus agrum !
' See the Memoir, as before, for the historical reference here.
1 Ab initio ad vers. 65. * lode a I vers. 128. « Inde 170.
314 PRO DISCIPLINA ECCLESIAE NOSTRAE
VIII.
IN METRI GENUS.
?UR, ubi tot ludat numeris antiqua poesisj
Sola tibi Sappho feminaque una placet?
Cur tibi tarn facile non arrisere poetae
Heroum grandi carmina fulta pede ?
Cur non lugentes elegi ? non acer Iambus ?
Commotos animos rectius ista decent.
Scilicet hoc vobis proprium, qui purius itis,
Et populi spurcas creditis esse vias ;
Vos ducibus missis, missis doctoribus, omnes
Femineum blanda fallitis arte genus :
Nunc etiam teneras quo versus gratior aures
Mulceat, imbelles complacuere modi.
IX.
DE LAB v ATA GORGONE.'
'ORGONA cur diram larvasque obtrudifl'j
inanes ?
Cum prope sit nobis Musa, Me
procul !
Si, quia felices olim dixere poetae
Pallada gorgoneam, sic tua verba placent.
Vel potius liceat distinguere. Tuque tuique
Sumite gorgcneam, nostraque Pallas erit.
• In titolo.
EP1GRAMMATA APOLOGETICA. 315
X.
DE PRAESULUM FASTU.
KAESULIBUS nostris fastus, Melvine,
tumentes
Saepius aspergis. Siste, pudore vacas.
An quod semotum populo laquearibus altis
Eminet, id tumidum protiiius esse feres ?
Ergo etiam solera dicas, iguave, superbum,
Qui tarn sublimi couspicit orbe viam :
Ille tamen, qnamvis altus, tua crimina ridens
Assiduo vilem lumine cirigit humum.
Sic laudandus erit nactus sublimia Praesnl,
Qui dulci miseros irradiabit ope.
XL
DE GEMIXA ACADEMIA.
UIS hie superbit, oro? tune, an Praesules ?
Quos dente nigro corripis P
Tu duplicem solus Camaenarum thronum
Virtute percellis tua;
Et unus impar aestimatur viribus,
Utrumque sternis calcitro ;
Omnesque stulti audimus, aut hypocritae,
Te perspicaci atque integro.
An rectius nos, si vices vertas, probi,
Te contumaci et livido ?
Qnisquis ttietur perspicillis Belgicis
Qua parte tractari solent,
Ees ampliantur, sin per adversam videt,
Miu'ora fiuiit omiiia ;
316 PRO DISCIPLINA ECCLESIAE NOSTRAE
Tu qui superbos caeteros existimas,
Superbius cum te nihil,
Vertas specillum; nam, prout se res habent,
Vitro minus recte uteris.
XII.
DE S. BAPTISMI EITU.
fUM tener ad sacrosinfans sistatur aquales,
Quod puer ignorat, verba profana
putas ?
Annon sic mercamur ngros ? quibus ecce
Redemptor
Comparat aeterni regna beata Dei.
Scilicet emptorem si res aut parcior aetas
Impediant, apices legis amicus obit.
Forsitau et prohibes infans portetur ad undas,
Et per se templi limeii adire velis :
Sin, Melvine, pedes alienos postulet infans,
Cur sic displiceat vox aliena tibi?
Rectius innocuis lactentibus omnia praestes,
Quae ratio per se, si sit adulta, facit.
Quid vetat ut pueri vagitus suppleat alter,
Cum nequeat claras ipse litare preces?
Saevus es eripiens parvis vadimonia coeli :
Et tibi sit nemo praes, ubi poscis opem.
XIII.
DE SIGNACULO CKUCIS.
1TJR tanta sumas probra in innocuam
crucem ?
Non plus maligni daemones Christi cmce
Unquam fugari, quam tui socii solent.
Apostolorum culpa non levis fuit
EPIGRAMMATA APOLOGETICA. 317
Vitasse Christ! spiritura efflantis crucem.
Et Christianas quisque piscis dicitur
Tertulliano, propter undae pollnbrnm,
Qao tingimur parvi. Ecquis autem brachiis
Natare sine clarissima potest cruce ?
Sed iion moramur : namque vestra crux erit,
Vobis faventibusve vel uegantibus.
XIV.
DE JUKAMENTO ECCLESIAE.
•ETICULIS sacris quidam snbscribere
jnssns,
Ah, Cheiragra vetat, quo minus, inquit,
agam.
0 vere dictum et belle ! cum torqueat omnes
Ordinis osores articulare malum.
XV.
DE PURIPICATIONE POST
[NIXAS pueros matres se eistere templis
Displicet, et laudis tura litare Deo.
Forte quidem, cum per vestras Ecclesia
tnrbas
Fluctibus internis exagitata natet,
Vos sine maternis hymnis infautia vidit,
Vitaqoe neglectas est satis ulta preces,
Sed nos, cum nequeat parvorum lingua parentem
Non landare Deum, credimns esse nefas.
Qnotidiana suas poscant si fercula grates,
Nostra caro sanctae nescia laudis erit P
318 PRO DISCIPLINA ECCLESIAE NOSTRAE
Adde piis animis quaevis occasio lucro est,
Qua l possint humili fandere corde preces.
Sic ubi jam mulier decerpti conscia pomi
Ingemat ob partus, ceu maledicta, suos,
Apposite quum 2 commotum subfugerat olim,
Nuuc redit ad mitem, ceu benedicta, Deum.
XVI.
DE ANTICHBISTI DECORE POXTIFICAU.
) ON quia Pontificum sunt olim afflata
veneno,
Omnia sunt temere projicienda foras.
Tollantur si cuncta malus quae polluit usus,
Non remanent nobis corpora, non animae.
xvii.
DE SUPERPELLICEO.
UID sacrae tandem meruere vestes p
Quas malus livor jaculis lacessifc,
Polluens castam chlamydis colorem
Dentibus atris ?
Quicquid ex urna meliore ductum
Luce praelustri, vel honoro pollet,
Mens sub insigni specie coloris
Concipit albi.
Printed ' Quae.'
2 Printed ' qnem."
EPIGRAMMATA APOLOGETICA. 310
Scilicet talem liquet esse solem ;
Augeli vultu radiante candent ;
Incolae coeli melioris alba
Veste triumphant.
E creaturis sine mentis usu
Conditis binas homini sequendas
Spiritus propouit, et est utrique
Candor arnicas.1
Ergo ringantur pietatis hostes,
Filii noctis, populus malignus,
Dam suum nomea tenet et triampl at
Albion albo.
xvm.
BE PlLEO QUADRATO.
UAE dicteria fuderat Britannas
Saperpellicei tremendus hostis,
Isthaec pileus aadiit propinqaas,
Et partem capitis petit sapremam ;
Non sic effugit angulus vel anus
Quo dictis minus acribus notetur.
Verum heus ! si reputes, tibi tuisque
Longe pileus anteit galerum,
Ut fervor cerebri refrigeretur,
Qui vestras edit intime medullas
Sed qui tarn male pileos habetis,
Quos Ecclesia comprobat, verendum
Ne tandem caput ejus impetatis.
' Ois et colnmba. Columel. 1. 7. c. 2, and 1. 8. c. 8.
320 PRO DISCIPLINA ECCLESIAE NOSTRAE
XIX.
IN CATHAEUM.
\ UR Latiam linguam reris nimis esse pi
fanam ?
Quam praemissa probant secula, nost
probant ?
Cur teretem Graecam damnas, atque HelladaJ
totam,
Qua tamen occisi foedera scripta Dei?
Scilicet Hebraeam cantas, et perstrepis unam :
Haec facit ad nasum sola loquela tuum.
xx.
DE EPISCOPIS.
UOS charos habuit Christus Apostolos
Testatosque suo tradiderat gregi ;
Ut cum mors rabidis unguibus immiiie*
Doctrinae fluvios clauderet aureae,
Mites acciperent Lampada Praesules,
Servarentque sacrum clavibus ordinem
Hos nunc barbaries impia vellicat
Indulgens propriis ambitionibus,
Et quos ipsa nequit scandere vertices
Hos ad se trahere, et mergere gestiens.
O coecum populum ! si bona res siet
Praesul, cur renuis ? sin mala, pauculos
Quam cuiictos fieri praestat Episcopos.
EPIGRAMMATA APOLOGET1CA. 321
XXI.
DE IISDEM : AD MELVINUM.
KAESULIBUS dirum te Musa coarguit
hostem:
An quia textores artificesque probas ?
XXII.
DE TEXTORE CATHARO.
M pigcatores Textor legit esse vocatos,
Ut sanctum Domini persequerentur
^~f opus ;
tile quoque invadit Divinam Flaminis artem,
Subtegmen reti dignius esse putans,
Et nunc perlongas Scripturae stamine telas
Torquet, et in textu doctor utroque cluet.
xxm.
DE MAGICIS ROTATIBTTS.
UOS tu rotatus, quale murmur anscultas
In ritibus nostris ? Ego audio nullum.
_ Age, provocemus usque ad angelos ipsos
U.uresque superas : arbitri ipsi sint litis,
Dtrum tenore sacra nostra sint, nee ne
Aequabili facta. Ecqnid ergo te tauta
Calumniandi concitavit urtica,
LTt quae Papicolis propria, assuas nobis,
T
322 PRO DISCIPL1NA ECCLESIAE NOSTRAE
Falsumque potius, quam crepes versa?1
Tu perstrepis tamen ; utque tiugeat carmen
Tuum tibi, poeta belle non mystes
Magicos rotatus, efc perhorridas stviges,*
Dicteriis mordacibus notaiis, clausus
Non convenire precibus ista Divinis.
O saevus hostis ! quam ferociter pugnas !
Nihilne respondebimus tibi P Fatemur.
xxrv.
AD FKATRES.
SAECLTJM lepidum! circumstant un
dique Fratres,
Papicolisque sui sunt Catharisque sui.
Sic nunc plena boni sunt omnia Fratris, amore
Cum nil fraterno rarius esse queat.
XXV.
BE LABE MACTJLISQUE.
£ABECULA.S maculasque, nobis objicis :
Quid ? hoccine est mirum P Viatores
sumus.
Quo sanguis est Christi, nisi ut maculas lavet,
Quas spargit animae corporis propius lutum ?
Vos ergo puri ! 0 nomen appositissimum
Quo vulgus ornat vos ! At audias parum ;
Astronomus olim, ut fama, dum maculas diu,
Quas luna habet, tuetur, in foveam cadit,
Totusque caenum Cynthiae ignoscit notis.
Ecclesia est mini luna ; perge in fabula.
1 A word or syllable must bare been dropped in this line. 2 Vers. 38.
EPIGRAMMATA APOLOGETICA. 323
XXVI.
DE MUSICA SACKA.
UR efficaci, Deucalion, manu,
Post restitutes fluctibus obices,
Mutas in humanam figuram
Saxa supervacuasque cautes ?
Quin redde formas, 0 bone, pristinas,
Et nos reducas ad lapides avos :
Nam saxa mirantur canentes,
Saxa lyras citharasque callent.
Bupes tenaces et silices ferunt
Potentiori carmine percitas
Saltus per incultos lacusque
Orphea mellifluum secutas.
Et saxa diris hispida montibus
Amphionis testitudine nobili
Percussa dum currunt ad urbem,
Moenia contribuere Thebis.
Tantum repertum est trux hominum genus,
Qui templa sacris expoliant choris,
Non erubescentes vel ipsas
Duritia superare cautes.
0 plena centum musica gratiis,
Praeclariorum spirituum cibus,
Quo me vocas tandem, tuumque
Ut celebrem decus insusurras ?
Tu Diva miro pollice spiritum
Caeno profani corporis exuens
Ter millies caelo reponis :
Astra rogant, Novus hie quis hospes ?
24 PRO DTSCIPLINA ECCLESIAE 1
Ardore Moses concitus entheo,
Mersis revertens laetus ab hostibus
Exsuscitat plebem sacratos
Ad Domiuum properare cantus.
Quid hocce ? Psalmos audion' ? 0 dapes !
0 succulent! balsama spiritus !
Bamenta caeli, guttulaeque
Deciduae melioris orbis !
Quos David, ipsae deliciae Dei,
Ingens piorum gloria Principum,
Sionis excelsas ad arces
Cum citharis lituisque miscet.
Miratur aequor finitimum sonos,
Et ipse Jordan sistit aquas stupens ;
Prae quo Tibris vultum recondit,
Eridanusque pudore fusus,
Tun' obdis aures, grex nove, barbaras,
Et nullus audis ? cantibus obstrepens,
Ut, quo fatiges verberesque
Pulpita, plus spatii lucreris
At cui videri prodigium potest
Mentes, quietis tympana publicae,
Discordiis plenas sonoris
Harmoniam tolerare nullam.
XXVII.
DE EADEM.
ANTUS sacros, profane: mugitus vc
Mugire multo mavelim quam rudere.
EP1GRAMMATA APOLOGETICA. 325
xxvm. .
DE BITUUX Usu.
UM primum ratibus suis
Nostram Caesar ad insutam
Olim appelleret, iutueus
Omnes indigenas loci
Viventes sine vcstibus,
0 victoria, clamitat,
Certa ac perfacilis mihi !
Non alio Cathari modo
Dum sponsam Domini piis
Orbam ritibas expetunt,
Atque ad barbariem patrum
Vellent omnia regredi,
Illam tegminis insciam
Prorsus daemoui, et hostibus
Exponunt superabilem.
Atqui vos secus, o boni,
Sentire sapere addecet,
Si vestros animos regant
Scripturae canoues sacrae :
Namque haec, jure, cuipiam
Vestem non adimi snam,
Sed nudis et egentibus
Non suam tribui jubet.
XXIX.
DE AIWULO CONJTJGAII.
nee conjugii signum, Melvine, pro-
babis ?
_^_ __ Nee vel tantillum pignus habebit amor?
Nulla tibi si signa placent, e nubibus arcum
Eripe caelesti qui moderatur aquae.
326 PRO DISCIPLINA ECCLESIAE NOSTRAE
Ilia quidem a nostro non multum abludit imago,
Annulus et plenus tempore forsan erit.
Sin nebulis parcas, et nostro parcito signo,
Cui non absimilis sensus inesse solet.
Scilicet, ut quos ante suas cum conjuge tedas
Merserat in lustris perniciosa Venus,
Annulus hos revocet, sistatque libidinis undas
Legitimi signum connubiale tori.
xxx.
DE MUNDIS ET MUNDANIS.
X praelio undae ignisque, si physicis fides,
Tranquillus aer nascitur :
Sic ex profano Cosmico et Catharo potest
Christianus extundi bonus.
XXXI.
DE ORATIONS DOMINICA.
UAM Christus immortalis innocuo gre§
Voce sua dederat,
Quis crederet mortalibns
Orationem rejici septemplicem,
Quae miseris clypeo
Ajacis est praestantior ?
Haec verba, superos advolaturus thronos
Christus, ut auxilii
Nos baud inaues linqueret,
EPIGRAMMATA APOLOGETICA. 327
Cum dignius nil posset aut melius dare,
Pignora cara sni
Fruenda nobis tradidit.
Quis sic amicum excipiet, ut Cathari Deum,
Qui renovare sacri
Audent amoris symbolum ?
Tu vero quisquis es, cave, ne dum neges,
Improbe, verba Dei,
Te deneget VEKBUM Deus.
xxxn.
IN CATIIAEUM QUENDAM.
iUM templis efifare, madeut stidaria,
mappae,
Trux caper alarum, suppara, laena,
sagum.
Quiu populo, clemens, aliquid largire calorie :
Kuuc sudas solus ; caetera turba rigot.
xxxin.
DE LUPA LUSTRI VATICANI
j ALUMNI AEUM nee pud or quis neo
modus,
Nee Vaticanae desines unquam lupae ?
Metus inanes ! Nos pari praetervehi
Illam Charybdim cautioue novimns
Vestramqne Scyllam, aequis parati spiculis
Britannicam in vulpem inque E/omanam lupam.
Dicti fidem firmabimus anagrammate.
328 PRO DISCIPLINA ECCLESIAE NOSTRAE
XXXIV.
DE IMPOSITIONS MANUTJM.
C dextra te fugit almi amoris emblemai
Atqui manus imponere integras praestai
Quam, more vestro, imponere inscio vulgo
Quanto impositio melior est impostura !
xxxv.
SUPPLICUM MlNISTRORUM RAPTTTS KUfi
5MBITIO Cathari quinque constat
actibus.
I. Primo, unus aut alter parum ritus
placet.
Jam repit impietas volatura illico.
n. Mox displicent omnes. Ubi hoc permanseri
in. Paulo, secretis mussitans in angulis
Quaerit recessus. Incalescit fabula,
IV. Brumpit inde, et continere nescius
v. Sylvas pererrat. Fibulis dein omnibus
Prae spiritu ruptis, quo eas resarciat
Amstellodamum corripit se. Plaudite.
xxxvi.
DE AUCTORUM ENUMERATIONS.
»UO magis invidiam nobis, et crimina
confles,
Pertrahis in partes nomina magna tuas
Marty ra, Calvinum, Bezam, doctumque Bucerum
Qui tamen in nostros fortiter ire negant.
Whitaker, erranti quern praefers carmine, miles
Assiduus nostrae papilionis erat.
EPIGRAMMATA APOLOGETICA. 329
Tos quoque possemus longas conscribere turmas,
Si numero starent praelia, non animis.
'rimus adest nobis, Pharisaeis omnibus hostis,
Christus Apostolici cinctus amore gregis.
"u geminas belli portas, o Petre, repandis,
Dum gladiam stringens Paulus ad arma vocat.
nde Patres pergunt quadrati, et tota Vetustas.
Nempe noratores quis veteranus amat ?
am Constantinus multo se milite miscet;
Invisamque tuis erigit hasta Crucem.
[ipponensis adest properans, et torquet in hostes
Larapada, qua studiis invigilare solet.
'eque Deum alternis caiitans Ambrosins iram,
Immemor antiqui mellis, eundo coquit.
[aec etiam ad pugnam praesens, qua vivimus,
aetas
Innumeram nostris parti bus addit opem.
|uos inter plenusque Deo genioque Jacobus
Defendit veram mente manuque fidem.
nterea ad sacrum stimulat sacra Musica bellum,
Qua sine vos miseri lentius itis ope.
[ilitat et nobis, quern vos contemnitis, Ordo,
Ordine discerni maxima bella solent.
vos invalidos ! audi quern talibus armis
Eventum Naso vidit et admonuit ;
na dies Catharos ad bellum miserat omnes :
Ad bellum missos perdidit una dies.
XXXVII.
DE AURI SACRA FAME.
LATJDTS avaritia satyram, statuisque
sacrorum
Esse recidendas, Aeace noster, opes,
aetera condonabo tibi, scombrisque remittam :
Sacrilegum carmen, ceuseo, flamma voret.
330 PRO DISCIPL1NA ECCLESIAE NOSTRAE
XXXVIII.
AD SCOTIAM PROTEEPTICON AD PACEJI.
jCOTIA, quae frigente jaces porrecta sul
Arcto,
Car adeo immodica relligione cales?
Anne tuas flammas ipsa Antiperistasis auget,
Ut nive torpentes incaluere manus ?
Aut ut pruna gelu summo mordacius urit,
Sic acuunt zelum frigora tanta tuum ?
Quin nocuas extingue faces, precor: unda
propinqua est,
Et tibi vicinas porrigit aequor aquas ;
Aut potius Christ! sanguis demissus ab alto,
Vicinusque magis nobiliorque fluit :
Ne, si flamma novis adolescat mota flabellis,
Ante diem vestro mundus ab igne mat.
xxxix.
AD SEDUCTOS INNOCENTES.
1 NNOCUAE mentes, quibus inter flui
mundi
Ducitur illimi Candida vita fide,
Absit ut ingenuum pungant mea verba pudc
Perstriugunt vestros carmiua sola duces.
0 utiuam aut illorum oculi, quod comprecor unr
Vobis, aut illis pectora vestra forent!
EPIGRAMMATA APOLOGETICA. 331
XL.
AD MELVINUM.
^TQUI te precor unice per ipsam,
Quae scripsit numeros, mauum;
per omnes
Musarum calices, per et beatos
Sarcasmos quibus artifex triumphas ;
Quin per Presby teros tuos ; per urbem,1
Quam curto nequeo referre versa ;
Per caras tibi nobilesque dextras,
Quas subscriptio neutiqnam inquinavit ;
Per quicquid tibi suaviter probatur ;
Ne me carminibus nimis dicacem,
Aut sacrum reputes. Arnica nostra est
Atque edentula Musa, nee veneno
Splenis perlita contumeliosi.
Nam si te cnperem secare versn,
Totamque evomerem poteuter iram
Quam aut Ecclesia despicata vobis,
Aut laesae mihi suggerunt Athenae,
Et quern non stimularet haec simultas,
Jam te funditus igneis Camoenis,
Et Musa crepitante subruissera :
Omnis linea sepiam recusaiis
Plumbo ducta fuisset aestuanti,
Centum stigmatibus tuos inurens
Profanes fremitus bonasque sannas :
Plus charta haec mea delibuta dictis
Haesisset tibi, quam suprema vestis
Olim accreverit Herculi furenti :
Quin hoc carmine lexicon probrorum
Extruxissem, ubi, cum monoret usns,
Haurirent tibi tota plaustra Musae.
Nunc haec omnia sustuli, touantes
Aflectus sociis tuis remittens.
1 Edinburgh.
332 PRO DISCIPLINA ECCLESIAE NOSTRAE
Non deridiculumve sive ineptum,
Non striges magiamve vel rotatus,
Non fastus tibi turgidos repono;
Errores, maculas superbiamque,
Labes somniaque ambitusque diros,
Tinnitus Berecynthios omittens
Nil horum regero tibi merenti. .
Quin te laudibus orno : quippe dico,
Caesar sobrius ad rei Latinae
Unus dicitur advenire cladem :
Et tu solus ad Angliae procellas,
Cum plerumque tua sodalitate
Nil sit crassius impolitiusve,
Accedis bene doctus, et poeta
XLI.
AD EUNDEM.
NCIPIS irridens; stomachans in car
pergis ;
Desinis exclamans : tota figura vale.
XLII.
AD SEREN. EEGEM.
CCE pererratas, regum doctissime, nuf
Quas gens inconsulta, suis vexata pr
cellis
Libandas nobis absorbendasque propinat ;
O caecos animi fratres ! quis vestra fatigat
Corda furor, spissaque afflat caligine seimis ?
Cernite quam formosa suas Ecclesia peuuas
Explicat, et radiis ipsum pertingit Olympum ;
EPIGRAMMATA APOLOGETICA. 333
iciai populi passim mirantur, et aeqaos
entibas attouitis cupiant addisccre ritus ;
ingelicae turmae nostris se coetibus addunt;
iam Christus coelo speculatus ab alto
ituituque uno stringens habitacula mnndi,
jla mini pleuos, ait, exhibet Antrim cult u.-.
?ilicet has olim divisas aequore terras
isposuit Divina sibi, cum conderet orbem,
Irogenics gemmamqae sua quasi pyxide clausit.
0 qui Defensor Fidei meritissimus audis,
esponde aeternum titulo ; quoque ordine felix
oepisti, pergas simili res texere filo.
brue ferventes, ruptis couatibus, hostes ;
uasquehabetautpatulas aut caeco tramite, moles
[acresis, evertas. Quid enim te fallere possit ?
u veuas laticesque omnes quos sacra recludit
agiua gnstasti, multoque interprete gaudes ;
u Synodosque Patresque et quod dedit alta ve-
tnstas
fand per te moritura, Scholamque introspicis
omnem.
Tec transire licet quo mentis acumine findis
'iacera naturae, commistusque omnibus astris
vnte tuum tempus coelum gratissimus ambis.
lac ope munitus securior excipis undas,
'uas Latii Catharique moveiit, atque inter
ntrasque
'astor agis proprios, medio tutissimus, agnos.
Perge, decus Kegum; sic, Augustissime,
plures
int tibi vel stellis laudes et laudibus anni;
;ic pulsare tuas, exclusis luctibus, ausint
iandia sola fores ; sic quicquid somuia mentis
ntus agunt, habeat certum meditatio finem ;
>ic positis nugis, quibus irretita libido
nnumeros mergit vitiata mente poetas,
:ola Jacobaeum decantent carmina nomeu.
334 EPIGRAMMATA APOLOGETICA.
XLIII.
AD DEUM.
i ITEM tu, summe Deus, semel
Scribentem placido rore beaveris,
Ilium noil labor irritus
Exercet miserum ; non dolor unguiu
Morsus increpat anxios ;
Non maeret calamus ; non queritur caput
Sed fecunda poesewt;
Vis, et vena sacris regnat in artubus ;
Qualis nescius aggerum
Exundat fluvio Nilus amabili.
0 dulcissime spiritus
Sanctos, qui gemitus mentibus inseris
A te turture defluos,
Quod scribo, et placeo, si placeo, tuum est.
IX. ALIA POEMATA LATINA.
NOTE.
See the Memoir, for notice of Herbert's relations
Bae- a. There are additions to this section, as in
ethers.
ALT A POEMATA LATINA.
AD ATJCTOREM INSTATTRATIONIS MAGNAE [FKANCISOJM
BACON].
[ER strages licet auctorum veterumque
ruinain
Ad famae properes vera tropaea tnae,
Tarn nitide tamen occidis, tarn suaviteij
hostes,
Se quasi donatum funere quisque putat.
Scilicet apponit pretium tua dextera fato,
Yulnereque emauat sanguis, ut intret honos.
0 qnam felices suiit, qui tua castra sequaatur,
Cam per te sit res ambitiosa uiori !
n.
Is HOXOKEM ILLUSTRISSIMI DOMIKI FRAKCISCI Dl"
VERULAMIO, ViCE-Comns STI ALBANI.
Post editam ab eo Instanr. Magnam.
• HIS isto tandem? non enim vultu
ambulat
Quotidiano. Nescis, ignare ? audies.
Dux Notionum ; Veritatis Pontifex ;
Inductionis Domiuus et Verulamii ;
Berum Magister Unicus, at non Artium ; 5
z
338 ALIA POEAIATA LATINA.
Profiinditatis Firms atque Elegantiae ;
Naturae Aruspex intimus ; Philosophiae
Aerarium; Sequester Experientiae
Speculationisque ; Aequitatis Signifcr ;
Scieutiarum sub pupillari statu
Degentium olim Emancipator ; Luminis
Promus ; Fugator Idolum atque Nubium ;
Collega Solis ; Quadra Certitudinis ;
Sophismatum Mastix; Brutus Literarius,
Authoritatis exuens Tyraunidem ;
Eationis et Sensus Stupendus Arbiter ;
Repumicator mentis ; Atlas Physicus,
Alcide succumbente Stagiritico ;
Columba Noae, quae in vetustate Artibus
Nullum locum requiemque cernens, praestit
Ad se suamque matris, arcam regredi ;
Subtilitatis terebra ; Temporis nepos
. Ex Veritate matre ; mellis alveus ;
Mundique et animarum Sacerdos unions ;
Securisque errorum ; inque naturalibus
Granum sinapis, acre aliis, crescens sibi ;
O me prope lassum ! Juvate Posteri.
GEOE. HERBERT.
Ornt. Pub. in Academ. i
III.
COMPARATIO ENTEB MTOTJS SUMMI CANCELLARIATU
ET LlBBUM.
JUNEEE dum nobis prodes, libroqui
futuris,
In laudes abeunt saecula quaeque tuas ;
Munere dum nobis prodes, libroque remotis,
In laudes abeunt jam loca quaeque tuas :
Hae tibi sunt alae laudum. Cui contigit uuquan
Longius aeterno, latius orbe decus ?
1 In a MS. contemporary copy in possession of the Duke of (
ALIA POEMATA LATINA. 330
rv.
HIOPISSA AMBIT CESTTJM DITZBSI COLORIS VJRUM.
mihi si facies nigra estP hoc, Ceste,
colore
Sunt etiam tenebrae, quas tamen optat
amor.
bernis ut exusta semper sit fronte viator ;
Ah longum, quae te deperit, errat iter.
I5i nigro sit terra solo, quis despicit arvum ?
Claude oculos, et erunt omnia nigra tibi :
iut aperi, et cernes corpus quas projicit umbras ;
Hoc saltern officio fungar amore tui.
Dum mihi sit facies fnmns, qnas pectore flammas
Jamdudum tacite delituisse putes ?
Dure, negas ? O fata mihi praesaga doloris,
Quae mihi lugubres contribuere genas !
v.
I» OBITUM INCOMPARABILIS VICE-COMITIS SANCTI
ALBANI, BARONIS VERULAMII.
UM longi lentique gemis sub pondere
morbi,
Atque haeret dubio tabida vita pede,
Quid voluit prudens fatum, jam sentio tandem :
Constat, Aprile uno te potuisse mori :
Ut flos hinc lacrymis, illinc Philomela querelis,
Deducant linguae funera sola tuae.
•hire (erroneously signed -Qnlielmos Herbert') there are these
*liKht variations : 1. 14, 'matrix;' 1. 19, ' vetustatis ; ' 1. 2u,
' pentitit ; ' 1. 21, 'suamqae ; ' 1. 25, ' Nataralibai.' The last I adopt
t* rendering the line metrically accurate: hitherto it has read
' inane nauTihas '. It is headed " D. D. Verulamij . . . Al. magui
Hgilli Costodis . . . Instaoratiouem magnam."
340
ALIA POEMATA LATINA.
VI.
IN NATALES ET PASCHA CONCURRENTES.*
jUM tu, Christe, cadis, nascor; mentemqu
ligavit
Una meam membris homla, teque cruc
O me disparibus natum cum numine fatis !
Cur mibi das vitam, quam tibi, Christe,
negas ?
Qiiin moriar tecum : vitam, quam negligis ipse, i
Accipe ; ni talem des, tibi qualis erat.
Hoc mihi legatum tristi si funere praestes,
Christe, duplex net mors tua vita mihi :
Atque ibi per te sanctificer natalibus ipsis,
In vitam, et nervos Pascha coaeva fluet.
vn.
AD JOHANNEM DONNE, D.D.
De nno Sigillorum ejns, Anchors et Christo.
UOD crux nequibat fixa, clavique additi-j
Tenere Christum scilicet, ne asceL
deret —
1 This reminds ns of Dr. Donne's very striking poem ' Vpjion (
Annnnciaron and Passiown fallinge vpon one day, 1608' (onr
of his complete Poems, vol. ii. pp. 296-8). By the way, f<
Chester, read in the Note, Westminster. Probably both were
on the same occasion. Sir John Beaumont has an equally not
poem ' Vpon the two Great Feasts of the Annunciation and E
rection falling on the same day, March 25th, 1627' (our edi i
his Poems, pp. 67-8). Crashaw and William Cartwripht alsc
the stable of Bethlehem into quaint symbolisms ; e.g. the lat
less known :
' Blest Babe, Thy birth makes Heaven in the stall.
And we the manger may Thy altar c:ill :
Thine and Thy mother's eyes as stars appear ;
The bull no beast, bnt constellation here.
Thus Ijpth were born — the Gospel and the Law :
Moses in flags did lye, Thou in the straw.'
(On the Nativity, pp.
ALIA POEMATA LATINA. 341
?nive Christum devocans facundia
Jltra loquendi tempus ; addit Anchora:
jfec hoc abunde est tibi, nisi certae ancborae
kddas Sigilhim ; nempe symbolum suae
?ibi debet unda et terra certitudinis.
Quondam fessus Amor, loquens amato,
Tot et tanta loquens arnica, scripsit :
Tandem et fessa manus dedit Sigillum.
i5navis erat, qui scripta, dolens, lacerando recludi,
5anctius in regno magni credebat Amoris,
I d quo fas nihil est rumpi, donare Sigillum !
Munde, fluas fugiasque licet, nos nostraque
fixi :
Deridet motus sancta catena tuos.
THE SAME IN ENGLISH.
LTHOUGH the Cross could not Christ
here detain,
Though nail'd unto 't, but He ascends
again,
Nor yet thy eloquence here keep Him still,
3ut only while thou speakst, this Anchor will,
\or canst thou be content, unless thou to
This certain Anchor add a Seal ; and so
The water and the earth both unto thee
Do owe the symbole of their certainty.
iVTien Love, being weary, made an end
v kind expressions to his friend,
342 ALIA POEMATA LATINA.
He writ ; when 's hand could write no more,
He gave the Seal, and so left o're.
How sweet a friend was he, who, being griev'd
His letters were broke rudely up, believ'd
'Twas more secure in great Love's commonweal,
Where nothing should be broke, to add a Seal !
Let the world reel, we and all ours stand sure ;
This holy cable's of all storms secure.
G. H
ON THE ANCHOB-SEAL.
When my dear friend could write no more,
He gave this Seal, and so gave o'er.
When winds and waves rose highest, I am sure,
This Anchor keeps my faith ; that, me secure.1
G.
VIII.
UM petit Infantem Princeps, Grantamc
Jacobus,
Quisnam horum major sit, dubitatur,
amor.
Yincit more suo Noster: nam mhlibus, Infans
Non tot abest, quot nos Kegis ab ingenio.
IX.
ERO verius ergo quid sit audi :
Verum, Gallice, non libenter audis.2
1 From Walton's Life of Herbert.
* This is from Martial. Epigr. via. 76, as pointed ont by Professoi
Mayor in Notes and Queries (first series, vol. ix. p. 301). 1
fonnd in Herbert's handwriting, it has hitherto been given to him.
It is printed here simply to correct the error.
ALIA POEMATA LATINA. 343
IN OBITUM SEKENISSIMAE REGINU! ANNAZ.
(E Lacrymis Cantabrigiensibus.)
UO te, felix Anna, modo deflcre licebit ?
Cui magnum imperium, gloria major
erat :
Ecce meus torpens animus succumbit utrique,
Cui tenuis farna est, ingeniumque minus.
Quis, nisi qui manibus Briareus, oculisque sit
Argus,
Scribere te dignum vel lacrymare queat ?
Prustra igitur sudo ; superest mihi sola voluptas,
Quod calamum excusent Fontus et Astra
meum:
Namque Annae laudes coelo scribuntur aperto,
Sed luctus noster scribitur Oceano.
XI.
IN OBITUM HENRICI PRINCIPIS WALLIAE.
(Ex Epicedivra Cantabrigiense, In Obitnm immuturura,
semperq. deflendom Hennci, ic., 1612. )
leues, inquam, Parnassia numina,
Musae ;
^ Non ego vos posthac, hederae velatus
amictu,
Somnis nescio queis nocturna ad vota vocabo :
Sed nee Cyrrhaei saltus Libethriaue arna
In mea dicta ruant; nou tam mihi peiidula mcns
est,
Sic quasi diis certem, magnos accersere montes ;
Nee vaga de summo deducam numina monte,
Qualia parturiente coluut sub rape sorores :
344 ALIA POEMATA LATINA.
Si quas mens agitet moles, dum pectora saeuo
Tola stupent luctu, lacrymisque exaestuet aequis I
Spiritus, hi mihi jam montes, haec flumina sunto:
Musa, vale; et tu, Phoebe, dolor mea carinmal
dictet ;
Hinc mihi principium : voe, o labentia mentis
Lumina, nutantes paulatim acquirite vires,
Viuite, dum mortem ostendam : sic tempora
vestram
Non comedant famam, sic nulla obliuia potent.
Quare age, mens; eflare, precor, quo numine laeso?
Quae suberant causae? quid nos committere
tan turn,
Quod non lauigerae pecudes, non agmina lustrentP
Annon longa fames miseraeque injuria pestis
Poena minor fuerat, quam fatum Princi
aegrum ?
lam felix Philomela et menti conscia Dido;
Felices quos bella premunt et plurimus ensis ;
Non metuunt ultra ; nostra infortunia tantum
Fataque fortunasque et spem laesere futuram.
Quod si fata illi longam invidere salutem,
Et patrio regno, sub quo jam Principe nobis
Quid sperare, immo quid non sperare licebat?
Debuit ista pati prima et nou nobilis aetas :
Aut cita mors est danda bonis aut longa sen
Sic laetare animos et sic ostendere gemmam
Excitat optatus atiidos, et veutilat ignem.
Quare etiam nuper Pyrii de pulveris ictu
Priucipis innocuam servastis numina vitam,
Ut morbi perimant, alioque in pulvere prostet.
Phoebe, tui puduit, quum summo mane redi
Sol sine sole tuo ! quum te turn nubibus atris
Totum offuscari peteres, ut nocte silenti
Humana aeteriios agerent praecordia questus,
Tantum etenimvestras,Parcae,non flectithabenas
Tempus edax rerum, tuque, o mors, improba sola es
ALIA POEMATA LATINA. 345
Jai caecas tribuit vires annosa vetustas.
)uid uon mutatum est ? requienmtflumina cursus ;
rlus etiam veteres coelum videre remotum :
lJur ideo verbis tristes effundere curas
kpeto, tanquam haec sic nostri medicina doloris?
mmodicus luctus tacito vorat igne medullas,
Jt fluuio currente, vadum sonat, alta quiescunt.
XII.
NNUPTA Pallas, nata Diespatre,
Aeterna summae gloria regiae ;
Cui dulcis arrident Camoenae
Pieridis Latiaeque Musae.
3ur tela mortis, vel tibi vel tuis
^uacuiique gutta temporis imminent ?
Tantaque propendet statera
Regula sanguinolenta fati ?
tfumne Hydra talis tantaque bellua est
tfors tot virorum sordida sanguine,
Ut mncro rumpatur Minervae,
Utque minax superetur -*Egis P
Cu flectis amnes, tu mare caerulum
'Jsaisse prono fulmine diceris,
Ajacis exesas triremes
Praecipitans graviore casu.
Pu discidisti Gorgoneas manus
S^exas, capillos anguibus oblitos,
Furvosque vicisti Gigantes
Enceladum, pharetramque Ehaeci.
Ceu victa, Musis porrigit herbulas
Pennata caeci dextra Cupidinis,
Non ulla Bellonae furentis
Arma tui metuuut alumni.
346 ALIA POEMATA LATINA.
Pallas retortis caesia vocibus
Respondit : Eia ! ne metuas, precor,
Nam fata non justis repugnant
Principibus, sed arnica fiunt.
Ut si recisis arboribus meis
Nudetur illic lucus amabilis,
Fructusque post mortem recusent
Perpetuos mihi ferre rami.
Dulcem rependent turn mihi tibiam
Pulchre renatam ex arbore mortua,
Dignamque coelesti corona
Harmoniam dabit inter astra.
X. PASSIO DISCERPTA. LUCUS.
NOTE.
The whole of "Passio Discerpta" and '
derived from the Williams MS., as before,
on these and others, see the Preface, — G.
Lucus" are
For details
'
PASSIO DISCERPTA.
AD DOMINUM MOKIENTEM.
UM lacrymas oculosque daos tot vul-
nera vincant,
Impar, et in fletum vel resolutus,
ero;
Sepia concurrat, peccatis aptior humor,
Et mea jam lacrymet culpa colore euo.
n.
IN SUDOBEM SANGUINEUM.
UO fugies, sudor? quamvis pars alter*
Christi,
Nescia sit metae, venula cella tua est.
Si tibi non illud placeat mirabile corpus,
Caetera displiceat turba, necesse, tibi :
Ni me forte petas ; nam quanto indignior ipse,
Tu mihi subveuiens dignior esse potes.
1 Cf. the " Parentalia," i. 6 : "laudibus baud flerem sepia justa
tail."
350
PA.SSIO DISCERPTA.
in.
IN EUNDEM.
1C tuns efiundi gestit pro crimine s;
guis,
Ut nequeat paulo se cohibere domi.
rv.
IN LATUS PERFOSSUM.
HRISTE, ubi tarn duro patet in te semil]
ferro,
Spero meo cordi posse patere viam. j
v.
IN SPUTUM ET CONVICIA.
BARBAROS! sic os rependitis sanctt
Visum quod uni praebet, omnibus vit
Sputando, praedicando ? sic Aquas Vit
Contaminatis alveosque caelestes
Sputando, blasphemando ? nempe ne hoc fiat
In posternm, maledicta Ficus, arescens
Gens tota net, atque utrinque plectetur.
Parate situlas, Ethnici, lagenasque
Graves lagenas, vester est Aquae-ductus.
VI.
IN CORONAM SPINEAM.
f HRISTE, dolor tibi supplicio, mini bl
voluptas ;
Tu spina misere pungeris, ipse
Spicula mutemus : capias Tu serta rosarum,
Qui Caput es, spinas et tua membra tuas.
PASSIO DISCERPTA.
351
VII.
IN ABUND., SPIN., GENTJPX., PTJKPI a.
UAM nihil Hindis, Gens improba ! quara
male cedunfc
Scommata ! Pastorem semper Arundo
decet.
tarn nihil illudis ! cum qno magis angar acuto
iMnnere, Rex tanto verier inde prober.
jiam nibil illudis fiectens! namque integra
postbac
Posteritas flectet corque gennque mihi.
|iam nihil illudis ! Si, quae tua purpnra fingit,
Purpureo melius sanguine regna probem :
[fc nou lusus erit, si quern tu laeta necasti
Vivat, et in mortem vita sit ilia tuam.
vni.
IN ALAPAS.
, quam caederis bine et inde pal mis !
Sic unguenta solent manu fricari ;
Sic toti medicaris ipse mundo.
IX.
IN FLAGELLUM.
HEISTE, flagellati spes et victoria mundi,
Crimina cum turgent, et mea poena
prope est :
uaviter admoveas notum tibi carne flagellum,
Snfficiat virgae saepius umbra tuae.
Ktis agas : tenerae duplicant sibi verbera mentes,
Ipsaque sunt ferulae mollia corda suae.
352
PASSIO DISCERPTA.
IN VESTES DIVISAS.
I, Christe, dum suffigeris, tuae vestes
Sunt hostium legata, non amicorui
Ut postulat mos ; quid tuis dabis
Teipsum.
XL
IN PIUM LATBONEM.
NIMIUM Latro ! reliquis furatus abun
Nunc etiam Christum callidus aggre
deris.
XII.
IN CHRISTUM CRTJCEM ASCENSURUM.
JACCHAEUS, ut te cernat, arborei
scandet ;
Nunc ipse scandis, ut, labore mutato,
Nobis facilitas cedat, et tibi sudor.
Sic omnibus videris ad modum visus :
Fides gigantem sola vel facit nanum.
XIII.
CHRISTUS IN CETJCE.
[1C, ubi sanati stillant opobalsama mt
Advolvor madidae laetus hiansque
Cruci :
Pro lapsu stillarum abeunt peccata ; nee acres
Sanguinis insultus exanimata ferunt.
Christe, fluas semper ; ne, si taa flumina cessen
Culpa redux jugem te neget esse Deum.
PASSIO DISCERPTA. 353
XIV.
IN CLAVOS.
>TJALIS eras, qui, ne melior natura mi-
norem
Eriperet nobis, in Grace fixus eras,
meus es : nunc Te teneo : Pastorque pre-
hensus
[Hoc ligno, his clavis est, quasi falce sua.
XV.
INCLINATO CAPITE. John xiz. 30.
ULPEBUS antra fens, nidique volucribus
adsnnt.
Qnodque suum novit stroma, cubile
suum.
ui tamen excipiat, Christus caret hospite ;
tantum
In cruce suspendens, nnde reclinet, habet.
XVL
AD SOLZM DEPICIENTEM.1
[HDD hoc ? et ipse deficis, coeli gigas,
Almi choragns luminis ?
Tu promis orbem mane, condis vesperi,
Mnndi fidelis claviger.
At nunc fatiscis, nempe Dominus aedium
Prodegit integrum penu.
Quamque ipse lucis tcsseram sibi negat,
Hegat familiae [jam] suae.
1 Cf. Psalm xix.
A A
354
PASSIO DISCERPTA.
Carere discat verna, quo summus caret
Paterfamilias lumine.
Tu vero mentem neutiquam dcspondeas,
Kesurget occumbens Herus :
Tune instruetur lautius radiis penu,
Tibi supererunt et mihi.
XVII.
MONUMENTA APERTA.
UM moreris, mea Vita, ipsi vixere sej
Proque uno vincto turba soluta fuit.
Tu tamen, baud tibi tarn moreris, qt
vivis in illis,
Asserit et vitam Mors animata tuam.
Scilicet in tumulis Crucifixum quaerite, vivit :
Convincunt unam multa sepulcra crucem.
Sic pro majestate Deum non perdere vitam
Quam tribuit, verum multiplicare decet.
XVIII.
TERRAE-MOTTIS.
B fixo, vel Terra movet ; nam cum
totem
Circumferre potes, Samson ut ant
fores.1
Heu, stolidi ! primum fugientem figite Terrai
Tune Dominus clavis aggrediendus erit.
1 Cf. 48. Sunday, 11. 47-60.
PASSIO DISCERPTA. 355
XIX.
VELUM SCISSUM.
1 KUSTRA, Verpe, tumes, propola cultus,
Et Templi parasite ; namque velum
Diffissum reserat Deum lateutem
Et pomaeria terminosque sanctos
Non urbem facit unicam, sed orbem.
Et pro pectoribus recenset aras,
Dum cor omno suum sibi requirat
Structorem et Solomon ubique regnet.
Nunc Arcana patent, nee involutam
Phylacteria complicant latriam.
Excessit tener Orbis ex ephebis,
Maturusque suos coquens amores
Praeflorat sibi nuptias futuras.
Ubique est Deus, Agnus, Ara, Flamen.
xx.
PETRAE SCISSAE.
ANUS homo factus, vitiornm purus uter-
que;
At sibi collisit fictile Daemon opus,
ubi Mosaicae repararent fragmiua Leges,
lufectas tabulas facta juvenca scidit.
Hand aliter cum Christus obit, prae funere tanto
Constat inaccessas dissiluisse petras.
Omnia praeter corda scelus confregit et error,
Quae contrita tamen caetera damna levant.
356
PASSIO DISCERPTA.
XXI.
IN MUND SYMPATHIAM CUM CHBISTO.
moreris solus ; Mundus simul inter!
in te,
Agnoscitque tuam Machina tota
crucem.
Hunc ponas animam mundi, Plato; vel f|
mundum
Ne nimium vexet quaestio, pone meam.1
1 There is a play on the word quaestio = inquiry by torture, i
10 suffering us well as search
LUCUS.
HOMO STATUA.
|UM, quia nescit, Imago Dei, sed saxea
certe:
Hanc mihi duritiem contalit impro-
bitas.
jscunt propriis evulsa corallia fundis,
Haud secus ingenitis dotibus orbus Adam.
|Pu qui cuncta creans docuisti marmora flere,
Haud mihi cor saxo durius esse sinas.
n.
PATRIA.
T tennis flamtnae species caclum usque
minatur,
Igniculos legans, manserit ipsa, licet.
Sic mucronatam reddunt suspiria mentem,
Votaque scintillae sunt animosa meae.
Assiduo stimulo carnem mens ulta lacessit,
Sedula si fuerit, perterebrare potest.
358
LUCUS.
m.
IN STEPHANTTM LAPIDATUM.
>
UI silicem tundit — mirum tamen — elici|
ignem :
At Caelum e saxis elicuit Stephanus.
rv.
IN SIMONEM MAGUM.
CQUID ernes Christum ? pro nobis scili
cet olim
Venditus est Agnus, non tamen emptuf
erit.
Quin nos Ipse emit, precioso fenora solvens
Sanguine, nee pretium merx emit ulla suum.
Ecquid ernes Caelum ? quin stellam rectius uuam
Quo pretio venit, fac, liceare prius.
Nempe gravi fertur scelerata pecunia motu,
Si sursum jacias, in caput ipse ruit.
Unicus est nummus caelo Christoque petitus,
Nempe in quo clare lucet Imago Dei.
v.
IN S. SCBIPTURAS.
[ETJ, quis spiritus igneusque turbo
Regnat visceribus, measque versat
Imo pectore cogitationes ?
Nunquid pro foribus scdeudo nuper
Stellam vespere suxerim volantem,
Haec autem hospitio latere turpi
Prorsus nescia, cogitat recessum ?
Nunquid mel comedens, apem comedi
LUCUS. 359
•sa cum domina domnm vorando ?
10, me nee apes nee astra pungunt; 10
icratissima charta, tu fuisti
uae cordis latebras sinusque caecos
xjue omnes peragrata es angiportus
t flexus fugientis appetitus.
i, quam docta perambulare calles 15
aeandrosque plicasque quam perita es P1
uae vis coudidit, ipsa novit aedes.
VI.
IN PACEM BRITAKNICAM.
,NGLIA cur solum fuso sine sanguine
sicca est,
Cum natet in tantis caetcra terra
malis?2
t licet in pelago semper, sine flnctibus ilia est,
Cum qui plus terrae, plus babuere maris.
aufragii causa est aliis mare, roboris Anglo,
Et quae corrumpit moonia, murus aqua est.
empe hie Religio floret, regina quietis,
Tuque super nostras, Christe, moveris aquas.
vu
AVAKITIA.
UEUM nocte videns, vidisse insomnia
dicit;
Aurum luce videns, nulla videre putat.
0 falsos homines ! vigilat, qui somniat aurum,
Plusque habethic laetus.quamvel Avarus habet.
1 11. 13-15. Cf. Parentalia, ii. 33 : ' per angiportu* et maeandri*
labitur.'
1 11. 1-2. A reminiscence of Juvenal, x. 113, 113: 'sine cmede et
vulnere .... sicca morte.'
LUCUS.
VIII.
IN LOTIONEM PEDUM APOSTOLOBUM.
IOLEM ex Oceano Veteres exsurj
fingunt
Postquam se gelidis nocte refecit aqi]
Verius hoc olim factum est, ubi, Christe, lavaresj
Illos, qui mundum circumiere, pedes.
IN D. LUCAM.
jiUR Deus elegit Medicum, qui
plenus
Divina Christ! scriberet acta manu ? 1
Ut discat sibi quisque quid utile : nempe nocel
Crudum olim pomum, tristis Adame, tibi.
x.
PAPAE TITULUS NEC DEUS NEC HOMO.
UISN AM Antichristuscessemus quaerera;
Papa
Nee Deus est nee homo : Christus
uterque fuit.
XI.
TRIBUTI SoiUTio.1
!ISCIS tributum solvit et tu Caesari.
Utrumque mirum est; hoc tamen mirum
magis,
Quod omnibus tute imperes, nemo tibi.
1 The tribute-money was not a Roman tax, but the customary
offering to the Temple— God's House.
LUCCS.
361
XII.
TEMPESTAS, CHRISTO DORMIENTE.
\ ID! dormis, surgit pelagus : cum, Christe,
resargis,
Dormitat pelagus : Quam bene fraeiia
tenes !
XIII.
BONUS Cms.
tt? AGAX Humilitas eligens viros bonos
$f Atque evehens, bonum facit faecundius,
u* Quam si ipse solus omnia interverteret,
aque in aliis possidet prudeutiam.
xrv.
IN UMBRAM PETRI.
[EODUXIT umbram corpus, umbra cor-
pori
Vitam reduxit : ecce gratitudinem.
xv.
MAKTUA : MARIA.
fHBISTTJS adest: crebris aedes percurrite
Bcopie,
Excutite aulaea, et luceat igne focus.1
inia purgentur, niteat mihi tota supellex ;
Parcite lumiuibus, sitque lucerna domus ;
D cessatrices ! eccum pulvisculus illic :
Corde tuo forsan, caetera muuda, Soror.
1 Martha : Maria : Tihullus, i. 1. 6. ' Dam meas assidao luceat
gne focus.' The thought is from Juvenal, xxv. 60, «eqq.
362 LUCUS.
XVI.
AMOK.
UID metnant homines infra, supra1
minentur
Sidera, pendent! sedulus aure bibis :
Utque ovis in dumis, haeres in crine Cometae,
Sollicitus, ne te stella perita notet:
Omnia quaerendo ; sed te, super omnia, vexas :
Et quid tu tandem desidiosus ? Amo.
XVII.
IN SUPEBBUM.
JAGNAS es; esto, bulla si vocaberis,
Largiar et istud : scilicet Magnatibus
Difficilis esse baud soleo: nam, pol,
forem,
Ipsi sibi sunt nequiter facillimi.
Quin mitte nugas ; teque carnem et sanguinem
Communem habere crede cum Cerdonibus :
Ilium volo, qui calceat lixam tuum.
xvni.
IN EUNDEM.
NUSQUISQUE hominum Terra est ei
films arvi.
Die mihi, mons sterilis, vallis an ubei
eris ?
LTTCUS. 363
XIX.
APFLICTIO.
tu calcasti fluctus, me, Christe,
lacessunt
Transiliuntque caput, qui subiere
pedes.
luiste, super fluctus si non discurrere detur,
Per fluctus saltern, fac, precor, ipse vader.
xx.
IN
UI sngit avido spiritu rumusculos
[KH^Bj Et flatulentas aucupatur glorias,
[j>5S£? Felicitatis culmen extra se locat,
Spargitque per tot capita, quot vnlgns gerit.
f Tu vero collige te tibique insistito,
; Breviore ' nodo stringe vitae sarcinas,
Rotundus in te : namqne si ausatus sies,2
Te mille rixae, mille prensabunt doli,
Ducentque donee incidentem in cassidem
Te mille nasi, mille rideant sinus.
Quarc peritus nanta, vela contrahas
Famamque nee difflaveris nee suxeris :
Tuasque librans actiones, gloriam,
Si ducat agmen, reprime ; sin claudat, sinas.
Morosus oxygala est: Levis, coagulum.3
1 tighter, i.e. have fewer incnmbrances, lighter baggage.
1 Old form of sis: cf. Epigr. Apolog. 17, 1. antepenult, 'net.'
* The whey or buttermilk, beiiig sunr, is like the morose despiser
f praise : the card, being soft and impressible with the least
)ach, like the man who is tightly moved by praise or censure.
364
LUCUS.
XXI
In GTTLOSUM.
UM prono rapis ore cibos, et fei
verris,
Intra extraque gravi plenus es illuvie.;
Non jam ventriculus, verum spelunca vocctur
Ilia caverna, in qua tot coiere ferae.
Ipse fruare licet, solus graveolente sepulcro,
Te petet, ante diem quisquis obire cupit.
XXII.
IN IMPKOBUM
ERICUS es dictis, factis pannusia Bauc
Os et lingua tibi dives, egena mam
Ni facias, ut opes linguae per br
serpant,
Aurea, pro naulo, lingua Charontis erit.
TYTTT.
CONSOLATIO.
lacrymas et tarda trahis susj
tauquam
Nunc primum socii mors foret atra tui i
Nos autem a cunis omnes sententia Mortis
Quotidie 2 jugulat, nee semel ullus obit.
Vivimus in praesens : hesteruam vivere vitam
Nemo potest : hodie vita sepulta prior.3
1 See Persins, iv. 21.
3 A false quantity , qnBtidie = qnotidie. So in the Parpntali»,1
29, and Epiprummata Aj»logetiea, xii. 9.
3 Au echo of Seneca, E|>. i.
LUCCS. 365
wentos ' obiit Nestor, non transiit annos,
fel quia tot moritur, tot viguisse probes.
m lacrymas, it vita : tuus tibi clepsydra fletus,
St numerat mortes singula gntta pares,
astra itaque in tot funeribus miraberis unum,
lera nimis lacryma haec, si lacrymabis, erit.
te tuum fletum et gemitus : namque imbribus
istis
Ac zephyris, carnis flos remeare nequit.
» tu pro socio doleas, qui fugit ad illud
Dalmeu, abi pro te nemo dolere potcst.
XXIV.
IN AUGELOS.
NTELLECTUS adultus Angelorum,
Hand nostro similis, cui 2 necesse
Ut dentur species, rogare sensum :
Et ni lamina jannam resignent,
Et nostrae tribuant molae farinam,
Saepe ex se nihil otiosa cudit.
A nobis etenim procul remoti
Labuntur fluvii scientiamm :
Si non per species, nequimns ipsi,
Quid ipsi sumus, assequi pntando.
Non tantum est iter Angelis ad undas,
Nullo circuitu scienda pungunt :
Illis perpetuae patent fenestrae,
Se per se facili modo scientes,
Atque ipsi sibi sunt mola et farina
1 A false quantity, trecentos. The true quantity of quotidiano in
be second poem. Ad Auctorem Instanrationis magnae, rer. 3.
* Ccii, a dissyllable: BO in Parentalia, ii. 30, 'tunm cniqae tempo*
It Wns datar.' la Epigr. Apolog. zzr. • namque haec jar*
lulpiam."
LUCTJS.
xxv.
{ORAM.
EAMO. ARMO.
MORA. AMOR.
OMA, tuum nomen, quam non per
ORAM,
Cum Latium ferrent saecula pr
jugum ?
Non deerat vel fama tibi vel carmina famae,
Unde MARO laudes duxit ad astra tuas.
At nunc exsucco similis tua gloria RAMO
A veteri trunco et nobilitate cadit.
Laus antiqua et honor periit : quasi scilicet
Te dejecissent tempera longa suo.
Quin tibi tarn desperatae MORA nulla medetur, ,
Qua Fabio quondam 8ub duce nata salus.
Hinc te olim gentes miratae odere vicissim,
Et cum sublata laude recedit AMOR.
1 This is one of only two of all these Latin poems that
hitherto been printed. It appeared in the Parentalia. Cf. with 1
of Herbert, Dean Duport's, as follows :
{Maro \
Mora f Anagram.
Anno J
Roma Maro : quid enim praeclarins ilia Marone
Unqnam, vate sacro, Parthenioqne, tulit ?
Roma Amor impurns, Venerisque infanda libido,
Et sitis imperil, et dira cnpido lurri.
Roma Mora, oppositusque piis conatibus obex,
Spemqne reformandi tempus in omne trahens.
Roma Armo gentes in praelia perqne dnelles
Jnstruo, et in Reges concito regna suos.
(Sylvarwn, lib. ii. Musae Subsecivae, pp. 218-1'
LUCDS. 367
XXVJ.
URBANI VIII. PONT. RESPONS.
Eomam nequeas, quod aves, ever-
tere, nomen
Invertis, mores carpis et obloqueris.
Germana tamen pubes, te Graecus et Anglas
Arguit, exceptos ; quos pia Koma fovet.
lostibus haec etiam parcens imitatur Jesum :
Invertis nomen, Quid tibi dicit ? AMOB.
xxvn.
RESPONS. AD URB. VIII.
)ON placet Urbanus noster de nomine
lusus
Romano ; sed res seria Roma tibi est :
Caput Romae es, cujus mysteria vellea
i jocum soli, plebe stupente, tibi.
icn Urbani delecto nomine, constat
satur et suavis sit tibi Roma jocus.
XXVIII.
AD URBANTJM VIII. PONT.
ONTIFICEM tandem nacta est sibi Roma
poetam :
Rea redit ad vates Pieriosque duces.
Jnod Bellarminus nequiit, fortasse poetae
Suaviter efficient, absque rigore Scholae.
I!edito barbaries : Helicon jam litibus instat,
Sqnaloremque togae Candida Musa fuewt.
368 Luctis.
XXIX.
AoyiK*) dvaia.
[RARUHQUE hominumque ortum
mente pererres,
Cespes vivus, Homo : mortuus, Ara
fuit.
Quae divisa nocent, Christ! per foedus in un
Conveniunt ; et Homo viva fit Ara Dei.
xxx.
IN THOMAM DIDTMTJM.
UM te vel digitis minister urget,
Et hoc judicium jubes, Eedemptor ;
Nempe es totus amor, medulla amc
Qui spissae fidei brevique menti
Paras hospitium torumque dulcem,
Quo se condat, et implicet volutans
Ceu fida statione et arce certa,
Ne perdat Leo rugiens vagantem.
XXXI.
IN SOLARIUM.
[ONJTJGIUM Caeli Terraeque haec
china praestat;
_ ,___ Debetur caelo lumen, et umbra solo.1
Sic Hominis moles animaque et corpore consta
Cujus ab oppositis fluxit origo locis.
Contemplare, miser, quantum terroris haberet,
Vel sine luce solum, vel sine mente caro.
1 For this pun on caelo and solo, see Ansonius, Epig. zxxiii. :
" Orta salo, snscepta solo, patre edita caelo,
Aeueadum geiiitrix, hie Labito, alma Venus."
LUCUS. 369
XXXII.
THTUMPHUS MORTIS.
MEA suspicienda manus venterque per-
eunis,
Quern non Emathius torrens,1 non san-
guiue pinguis
rmnia,- lion satiat bis ter millesinia caedis
•ogeuies, mundique aetas abdomine nostro
gluvieque minor. Quercus habitare feruutur 5
•isci, crescentesque uua cum prole cavernas.
ac tameu excludor: namqne una ex arbore vitam
lans dedit, et truncus tectum, et ramalia mor-
tem.
Coufluere interea passim ad Floralia pubes
jeperat.agricolis mentemque et aratra solutis : 10
ampita fervescunt pedibus, clamoribus aether,
ic ubi discumbuut per gramina, salsior unus
mnia suspendit naso, sociosque lacessit :
on fert Ucalegon, atque ameutata retorquet
ictaferox: haerent lateri convitia fixo. 15
cinditur in partes vulgus, ceu compita; telum
•a facit, muudusque ipse est apotheca furoris.
iber alit rixas ; potantibus omnia biiia 3
unt praeter vitam : eaxis hie sternitur, alter
mbustis sudibus: pars vitam in pocula fun-
dunt, 10
n patinas alii : furit inconstantia vini
anguine, quern dederat spoliaus. Primordia
Mortis
Lncun, < Bella per Emathios plnsqnam ci villa eampos* (Pharsalia
I/
* Horace, Carm. ii. i. 34, 36 :
' Quod mare Danniae
NOQ decoloravere eaeUe> ? '
lefcrs to the battle or Cannae chiefly.
! * Cf. Hunice, Sat. ii. i. L'o.
£ B
370 LUCUS.
Haec fuerant : sic Tisiphone virguncula lusit.1
Non placuit rudis atque ignara occisio : Moi
Quaeritur ingenium, doctusque homicida
batur.
Hinc tirocinium parvoque asaueta juventus,
Fictaque Belloua et verae ludibria pugnae,
Instructaeque acies, hiemesque in pellibus acta|
Omniaque haec ut transadigant sine crimi:
costas,
Artificesque necis clueant et mortis alumni,
Nempe et milleuos ad palum interficit hostes
Assiduus tiro, si sit spectanda voluntas.
Heu, miseri ! quis tantum ipsis virtutibus insta
Quantum caedi ? adeon' unam vos pascere vita^
Perdere sexcentas ? crescit tamen hydra iiocendi
Tristis, ubi ac ferrum tellure reciditur una
Fecundusque chalybs sceleris, jam sanguine
tinctus
Expleri nequit et totum depascitur orbem.
Quid memorem tormenta quibus prius ho:
aevum
Ballistasque onagrosque, et quicquid sco:
saevus
Yel catapulta potest, Siculique inventa ma
Anglorumque arcus gaudentes sanguine
Fustibalos fundasque, quibus, cumNumine,
Stravit Idumaeum divinus Tityrus3 hostem
Adde etiam currus, et cum temone Britan
Arviragum, falcesque ob&tantia quaeque m<
Quin Aries ruit, et multa Demetrius 5 arte
Sic olim cecidere.
1 Juvenal, xiii. 40, ' tune, cum virgnncnla Juno.'
* mm Archimedes.
* qn. David, the shepherd-king ?
« Cf. Juvenal, iv. 126-7 :
' De temone Britanno
Excidet Arviragns.'
* = Demetrius Poliorcetes.
LUCUS. 371 §
l)eerat adhuc vitiis hominum dignissima
mundo
achina, quam nullura satis execrabitur aevum, 50
qnitur ardent! candens fornace metallum
isaque decurrit notis aqua ferrea sulcis :
toritur tubas atqne instar Cyclopis Homeri
iscum prodigium medioque foramine gaudens,
de rotae atque axes subeunt, quasi Bella
curulis, 55
ia Mors ipsa sedens, hominum de gente
triumphat.
ccedit pyrius pulvis, laquearibus Orel '
rntus, infernae pretiosa tragemata mensae
ilphureoque lacu, totaque imbuta mephiti.
die glans adjicitur — non quam rue tare
vetustas 2 60
reditur, ante satas, prono cum numine fruges —
umbea glans, livensque suae quasi conscia
noxae,
arpnreus lictor Plutonis, cpistola Fati
.umbis obsignata, colosque et stamina vitae
arrumpens Atropi vetulae marcentibus ulnis. 65
Haec ubi juncta, subit vivo cum fune minister,
Fatalemque levans dextram, qua stuppeus ignis
Mulcetur vento, accendit cum fomite partem
Pulveris inferni properat, datus ignis, et omnem
Materiam vexat : nee jam se continet antro 70
Tisiphone ; fiamma et fallaci fulmine cincta
Bvolat, horrendumque ciet bacchata fragorem.
It stridor, caelosque omnes et Tartara findit.
Non jam exaudiri quicquam, vel musica caeli,
Vel gemitns Erebi: piceo ee turbine volvens 75
Totamque eructans nubem, glans proruit imo
Praecipitata, cadunt urbes, fonnidine muri
1 H. 66-7. Cf. Herbert, • In Obitnm Henrici Principif Wallmc*,'
8S-5.
* Cf. Juvenal, vi. 10, ' glandem rue ton tt marito.'
372
LUCUS.
Diffugiunt, fragilesque crepant coenacula mun
Strata jacent toto millena cadavera campo
Uno ictu : non sic pestis, non stella maligno
Afflatu perimunt : en, cymba Cocytia 1 turbis
Ingemit, et defessus opera jam portitor orat.
Nee glans sola nocet : mortem quandoque
susurrat
Aura volans, vitamque aer quam paverat, aufi
Dicite, vos Furiae, qua gaudet origine
strum.
Nox Aetnam, Noctemque Chaos genuere prioree
Aetna Cacum ignivomum dedit, hie Ixiona mult
Cantatum ; deinde Ixion cum nubibus atris
Congrediens genuit monachum, qui limen opaca
Triste colen s cellae, noctuque et daemone plenum^
Protulit horrendum hoc primus cum pulvere
monstrum.
Quis monachos mortem meditari et pulvere t:
Versatos neget, atque humiles, queis talia co:
Jam demissa, ipsamque adeo subeuntia terra
Nee tamen hie noster stetit impetus :
omni
Tormento pejor Jesuita et fulminat orbem,
Eidens bombardas miseras, quae corpora pe
Non animas, raroque ornantur sanguine re
Obstrcperae stulto sonitu crimenque fatentes.
Imperil hie culmen figo ; mortalibus
est
Corporeque atque animo. Totus mihi set
orbis.
1 A false quantity, Cflcytia. Here false quantities of
own make his eyes catching at an imagined one of Melv
the name of Whittaker) somewhat amusing, if only that,
be recalled that even Milton allowed himself Idcobus, inst
the more exact lacobus. (Kleg. Lib, In. prod. Bomb.)
I
LUCCS. 373
mm.
TBIUMPITOS CHRISTIANI IN MORTEM.
vero? quanta praedicas ? hercle
adepol,
Magnificus es screator,homicida inclytus.
aid ipse faciam ? qui nee arboreas sades
[i te, nee areas scorpionesve aut rotas
jladiosve, catapultasve teneam, quin neque
Jopas nee arietes? Quid ergo? Agiium et
Crucem.
xxxiv.
IN JOHANNEM iirtOTl]Ql.OV.
H nunc, hellno, fac ut ipse sugam :
Num totum tibi pectus impntabis ?
Fontem intercipis omnibus patentem ?
pro me quoque sanguinem profudit,
jus pectoris inde consecutus
cum sanguine posco devolutum ;
It, si gratia tanta copuletur
'eccati veniae mei, vel ipsos
)ccumbens humero Thronos lacessam.
XXXV.
AD DOMINUM.
HRISTE, decus, dulcedo, et centum
circiter Hyblae,
Cordis apex, animae pugnaque paxque
meae :
Qnin sine, te cernam ; quoties jam dixero, cernam ;
Immoriarque oculis, 0 mea vita, tuis.
374
LUCUS.
Si licet, immoriar : vel si tua visio vita est,
Cur sine te, votis immoriturus, ago ?
Ah, cernam; Tu, qui caecos sanare solebas,
Cum te non videam, mene videre putas ?
Non video, certum est jurare ; aut si hoc vetuist
Praevenias vultu non facienda tuo.
)NGER NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS
ON SPECIAL POINTS.
It has been deemed expedient to place here such fuller
liacussions of critical points as demanded thorough treat-
iient, so as not to overload the foot-notes. — 6.
Page 17 : (a) " Sowre." The Church, Porch. st. xx. 1. 3.
HAVE adopted this word " sowre " from the Wil-
liams MS., and record that it is confirmed by the
Bodleian MS. Bat inasmuch as 1632-3 and later
texts read "stowre" and "stour," these elucida-
tions and illustrations of this word may be accepta-
ble. Dr. Lowe thus annotates " stour " (his spell-
ing) : " There is an obsolete substantive used by
Spenser thus written, signifying attack or incur-
nd Ascham uses a comparative 'stoorer,' in the sense of more
or harder. Halliweil, in his dictionary of Archaisms and
'isms, quotes from Palsgrave, tutor to Princess Mary,
iter of Henry VIII., and author of the Urst French Grammar
written in English, the following : ' stoure, rude as coarse cloth is,
gros.' The same old author has ' stoure of conversacyon, ettourdy,'
both which examples fit in with the text, as meaning severe, stiff,
inflexible. The MS. in the Bodleian reads ' sowre,' which is an in-
telligible but unnecessary alteration." I venture to differ from
Dr. Lowe as to " sowre" being an alteration, much more as to its
being unnecessary, seeing that "sowre" is Herbert's own word in
both of these authentic and authoritative M88. Besides, we have
"sowre" nsed elsewhere by Herbert, e.g. st. xxxvi. 1. 1. "....!•
thy complexion sou-Tef Indeed, it seems to have been an oddly
favourite word with him in varied applications. See 78. Conscience,
KS; 83. Vanitie, 1. (5 ; 105. Eph. iv. 30, 1. 2 ; 140. Bitter-sweet, 1. 7.
We have no hesitation, therefore, in displacing the long-held mis-
print of " stowre." 1674, 1679, 1703, and Pickering 1835, Su:, sub-
stituted "tower" unmeaningly.
But while adopting "sowre," I must add that there seems no need
(as Dr. Lowe, fupra) of forcing any meaning on this word, its exact
meaning fitting exactly. It answers somewhat to the Scotch " dour."
STOOR, or hard, or boystons (store, K) ; Autterus, rigidus (Prompt.
Parr. ed. Way). Compare also note there and Halliwell, Stvur (1),
Stoure (3-6), and Store, though the examples under this last ant
37G
NOTES AND
more correct than the explanation given, while the usages — hoi
the word be spelt — are ail easily ilerived from the meanings given )| T
the Prompt. The substantive sti,ur, conflict, swoon, or lit, may "
of the same root, but with a secondary sense, as in storm (C
Sturm); and iu this senseit may have come to us through the Frei
where estour is a conflict ; or both may be remnants of stir, sqB
Icelandic = battle, and so Scotire, as well as = fine dust, such as]
battle — single, or by forces — causes to rise. With reference I^H
Lowe's " stoorer " from Ascham, it runs as follows : " A fenny <•
euer as her flesh is blacker, stoorer, vnholsomer, so is her tether fc
the same cause coarser, stoorer, and rougher" (Toxophilus, B, ]
131, Arber). En passant, if estourdy (as supra) is same as stoni
of conversation, then the latter does not mean rude or rough of coi
versation, for that is not the meaning of the French word — th(^l
it may mean boorishly stupid. I remark, finally, that looking 1
"constancie"and "knit" in the context, it is possible that "stonre
was an author's variant, intended for an improvement, and as abov
= sturdy.
Page 17: (6) "shelf." Ibid. at. xx. 1. 6.
See the Memoir for Various Readings here — important. I hav
adopted the Williams MS. instead of the printed text of li>32-3, an
usually, " What nature made a ship, he makes a shelf." On thisDi
Lowe annotates : " This line is very obscure. Perhaps it means, th
impulse which first made you form your resolution was as a ship t
transport you on the voyage of life towards the haven of rest ; but, b
giving up the resolution, you have wasted an energy ; y< >u make no pro
gress, but have shelved yourself, and there remain. The shelf, asc
rocks, may be referred to here as that on which the ship is wrecked.
The Williams reading seems to clear the obscurity, albeit it is plaul
enough that the thought is = resolution would be a ship to carr;|
man over his trials and temptations to the haven where he would b«
but by breaking his resolution and turning it into irresolution, it tx
comes a shelf or reef on which he (not the ship) is thrown and dt
stroyed. There is no incongruity in a thing being regarded in on
light as a ship, and in another as a rock-reef, for the two are not coi
temporaneous, neither similarly conditioned. Nicholas Murfoi
(" Fragmenta Poetica," 1650) thus employs the simile : —
" Then use it [an Inn] well, and not use ill your selves,
For that is it which makes your ship but shelves.
Best things abased we know are made bod." (p. 36.)
and
"Nothing can shew David like as himself:
His Poesie's a ship, ours but a shelf." (p. 49.)
Page 18 : (c) "clue undoes." Ibid. st. xxi. 1. 4.
"Let this pretence have but a corner in your character, and •
your moral conduct falls into a mass of indirect perplexity, as whi
a clue or skein of thread comes undone and lies in a mass of entaugl
ment." — LOWE. This is scarcely Herbert's thought ; but if clue
taken to be a ball (or skein) of thrctrl, then it must not only mew
that we are led to discover it, but also that the " clue " is self-actin
or unrolls itself — a conception only befitting a fairy tale. A "clue
however, is a ball, or anything gathered into a ball. Thus a sa
when gathered together is " clewed up." Hence I judge the mean
ing of Herbert to be that the hypocrisy unrolls itself, and shows wh
it is within; the mask drops — when given a corner (1. 4.) where
may be alone and unseen
ILLUSTRATIONS. 377
Page 18: (d) "sconces." Ibid. tt. xxii. 1. 2.
Willmott in loco has the following strangely erroneous note :
Bouce generally signifies a skull ; bat sometimes also a bulwark :
•kerns to bear the latter meaning in this line. If hanger tempt* a
ui to over-indulgence, he has two safeguards — he can either carvo
• others, or talk to them " (Works of Herbert, p. ft). Dr. Lowe
wan ingenious but probably untrue explanation thus: "Sconce
I a word chiefly heard in the University, meaning a fine for any iin-
ropriety or irregularity at meals in hall. Herbert fitly uses it
•w; if yon are disposed to be greedy, yon can impotte upon yourself
wo penalties or sconces — you can carve for others, or talk to them ;
nil you need not fear that meanwhile all the food will be gone." —
AWE. Sconces are small protecting bulwarks or outworks, and
fcrbert's conceit is, that Nature has placed two bulwarks befure the
mouth, thereby showing the necessity of care, examination, and
watchful cxelusiveness — these bulwarks being the (dosed) lips and
eeth. The second clause, beginning with the third line, or more
nrobably with the " if" of the second, is n new thought, additional
safeguards, while they are proceedings due to Christian sociability
and courtesy. A further safeguard is looking on meat as dirt, and
onr body a« the same; but neither this, nor carving, nor disi-onrs-
ng, can properly be called sconces or forts. " Sconce" was so com-
mon a word, and the conceit is so like a conceit of the day, that I
refer it to believing that " sconce " is here nsed in the local Univer-
ty term. Besides, on the showing of the text, " if thy stomach
all," read as it must be with this reading, the carving and disconrs-
ag are spoken of as safeguards, not as penalties for things done ; nor
an they in their nature of brotherly, social, or courteous acts ne
ooked on as penalties or acts of penance.
Page 19 : (e) " he alone." Ibid. St. JOEY. 1. 1.
" Whosoever is delighted in solitude is either a wild beast or a
od. For it is most true that a natural and secret hatred and aversa-
on towards society, in any man, hath somewhat of the savage beast ;
lit ir is most untrue, that it should have any character at all of the
ivine nature, except it proceed, not out of a pleasure in solitude,
oat out of a love and desire to sequester a man's self for a higher
^•venation : such as is found to have been falsely and feigned ly in
Wote of the heathen— as Epimenides the Candian, Nurna the Ro-
man, Empedocles the Sicilian, and Apollonins of Tyana ; anil truly
and really in divers of the ancient hermits and holy fathers of the
Church." — BACON'S " Kssays," xxviii. Coleridge annotates on the
whole stanza — " I do not understand this stanza.
Page 21 : (/) "cannot onfourtie." Ibid. st. m. 1. 3.
" Yon may allow here for difference in valne of money. Another
illage parson was 'passing rich with forty pounds a year*
MITH: • Deserted Village,' 1. 141]. What Herbert means is, if
yon cannot make yonr income Keep yon, it is because your habits are
extravagant, and additions to income would only be material for ex-
M-e. Lord Bacon says, 'Certainly, if a man will keep but
flVn of hand, his ordinary expenses ought to be but half of his re-
IPpt*; and if he think to wax rii-h, but to the third part.' Mr.
:ie, on July 6th, 1867, thus spoke : 'There are two kinds of
wealth in this world, and two kinds of poverty. There is the wealth
anil the poverty which are absolute, and wh'ch are measured by the
amount of money or money's worth. There is also the wealth and the
378
NOTES AND
poverty which are relative, and which are not measured by the me
amount of money or money s worth that is possessed, but by tht re- 1
lation that the money or the money's worth bears to the views and!
character and habits of the possessor. In consequence of this youl
will often find a man who uses small means wisely not unprepared!
to confess that he is rich ; and, conversely, you will find a man \vhoael
great means are outstripped by the still greater greediness of his I
desires complain of poverty, even while he is rolling in ahunda —
The great thing that is required is this — not what the cnnditio
each man shall be, but that each man shall be master of his <
condition.' A learned Hindoo was asked the other day to
Government official in Calcutta in a new translation of the Ar
Nights. The Eastern sage counted such work beneath his dip
and declined. The official reminded him of his opportunities of a
ing him at Court. 'What can you do for a man who hasJElOOi
year, and lives on £50 ? ' was the reply." — LOWE, Cf. Petr
Kpist. ad Post.
Page 22: (g) "hopes." Ibid. St. JCCH. 1. I.
" Do not incur an outlay in making a showy appearance, for the
sake of getting credit. If you have only a dashing exterior to com-
mend you, you are worth no more than a ship with sails set and no
cargo aboard. If fine feathers make fine birds, the French proverb
adds, ' Grands oiseaux de coutnme sent prives de leurs plume*.'
• Fine clothes,' said Dr. Johnson, ' are good only as they supply the
want of other means of securing respect." How far they can supply
this, Herbert shows. The condition of those who • by pleading
clothes do fortunes seek ' is happily hit off by Belarins, the old
courtier-hermit, in 'Cymbeline,' where, speaking of men ' rustling in
unpaid-for silk,' he says, 'such gain the cap of him that makes them
fine, yet keeps his book uncrossed.' " — LOWE ["Cymbeline," iii. ;<]. If
it is pleasant at this day to find old-fashioned literature, such as Dr.
Johnson, " Spectator," and the like, being read, it must, I fear, be said
that much in above, as elsewhere, is wholly beside Herbert's mean-
ing. The next sentence shows it is " spend not in hopes of prefer-
ment— not credit — waste not your substance thus." I have put
hyphen in " pleading-clothes," as making the sense ctearer, and as
is really a compound word.
Page 22: (A) "bear the bell." Ibid. St. xxxii. 1. 1.
" Several explanations of this common expression are ofl
The best perhaps is, that in olden days, and in Herbert's time, a 1
was the prize iu horse-racing. Some have found its meaning in bell
wether; the sheep that carries the bell being the leader of th
flock ; others have fancied it a corruption of ' bearing the belle,' t.«.
winning a fair girl over other suitors. The first explanation a
the last are funnily combined by an author of 1(>64, quoted
Brande, who, speaking of women, says, ' Whoever bears the t
away, yet they will ever carry the clapper.' My ami >|imrmn trie
and coadjutor, the Rev. J. T. Fowler, has drawn my attention to I
description in Magins de Tintinnabulis of the Canx-cius, a vehicle
u.*ed in war by mediteval Italians, which, carrying a bell, and snr-
rounded by a flag, and used for calling the troops to mass, was re-
garded as a shrine of honour and sanctity, and was carried into
battle, something like ' the ark of God." If the enemy won this, he
would indeed ' bear the bell." " — LOWE.
ILLUSTRATIONS. 379
Page 25 : (0 " every toy be paged." Ibid. it. xxxriii. 1. 1.
'Toy means 'trifle;' posed means 'perplexed, brought to a
anil-still ; pat to a nonplus," and so said to be derived from
mat: bnt it is rather an abbreviation of the French, • appotrr, to
et on or near to,' and then to set questions to a candidate, not letting
m pass till he has answered them. At Winchester [and West-
inster] the examiners are still called • posers ; ' and at 8. Paul's
chool the compositions written for prizes are called appositions, and
leir Speech Day is their Apposition Day. Lord Bacon says, ' let
is questions not be troublesome, for that is fit for a poter,' i. e. exa-
niner." — LOWE. Spider threads are evidently alluded to, and it seems
ost likely that Herbert was thinking of those flying threads which
le spider sends forth, or of the flying gossamer webs. " Pos'd "
ould then mean stopped or stayed. This view is the more likely, at
ame is always represented as flying, and to take the web a*
— placed) stationary wonld require a forced and unknown use of
•oi'd, a* staggered or shaken.
Page 25 : (j) " thin web, which poisonous." Ibid. it. xxxviii. 1. 3.
' The metaphor is taken from a spider's web. The secretions of
le spider were formerly thought to be poisonous ; bnt it is now
longht doubtful whether the bite of even the larger spiders of the
opics is harmful. In the ' Winter's Tale' [ii. 1] Leonatns says,
There may be in the cup a spider steep'd, and one may drink a
lart, and yet partake no venom.' In other plays Shakespeare
lames spiders with toads and adders and such venomous reptiles."
-Low I.
Page 25 : (k) " the great soldier." Ibid. St. xxxviii. 1. 3.
" Any soldier who had become great had had his honour corn-
wed of stuff that would endure a shake. Perhaps the story of the
race [King Robert Bruce of Scotland] is referred to, who would
ot let his resolution fail after his many disasters, when he had
atrhed a spider in his tent again and again renew its broken web."
— LUWK. Hather again and again ascend its slender cord to the
roof, after seven times falling, and at last succeed. Bat, while the
previous allusion to the web temptingly allures one to the Brace,
Herbert would scarcely have referred to him as " the great soldier ;"
n .r was his "honour" at stake, only his resolution; nor did his
" honour " receive a " shake." Probably the " great soldier " was
Theuiistocles before Salamis, and his memorable " Strike, bat hear
me."
Page 26 : (0 " sad wise valour." Ibid. st. xlii. 1. 1.
" The valour of a great soldier, as it is checked by wisdom under
• sense of responsibility, is tinged with sadness, in the thought of
the cost to others at which victory must be won. The soldier's life
•applies the Poet throughout this poem with repeated illustrations."
—LOWE. True; but not accurate in relation to Herbert's as* of
" tad " here. It was used in his and older times both in its meta-
phorical sense of serious, sedate, and sometimes as solid. This
latter not being much known, I give an example : " River water is
good that runneth .... vpon clay ground, s*td sanory and cleere "
(Bartholomew, 1. 13, c. iii.), "super .... fnndum .... argillosum
tolidum rapidnm et mundura " (Batman). So Prompt. Parv. "nut
or hard, solidos. Saddyn, or make sail, solido consolido." And
HaUiwcll, as before, gi»«» "tad bread, pana yravis " (Gules'), and
380
NOTES AND
says the same phrase is now used in the North of England. (Cf.
my Glossarial Index in Marvell's Works, vol. i. s.v.) Gravity,
solidity is opposed in 1. 1 to the " giggler" of 1. 3.
Page 28 : (tit) " beast .... back." Ibid. xlv. 1. 4.
" Perhaps there is allusion here to the ark when it was carried to
Beth-shemesh by the milch-kine (1 Samuel vi. 10) ; or Herbert, may
refer to the Host carried in procession on a mule's back with rich
trappings, though such things had long disappeared from England
in his time."— LOWE. Surely the former alone was in Herbert'*
thoughts.
Page 29 : (n) Ibid. st. xlviii. Coleridge, Sfc.
"This is probably the stanza of which S. T. Coleridge, in his)
notes, says : ' I do not understand this stanza; ' but by some con-
fusion of printing the editors of Pickering's edition, and of Bell and
Daldy's, make this note refer to stanza Iii., where there
nothing to puzzle even a less powerful mind than S. T. C.'s.
the Notes on st. Iii.] It is perhaps hopelessly obscure. The '.
notes in the Bodleian comment thus : 'As familists must take <
of suretyship, so single persons must mind to be surety for no mor
than they are capable of paying if the principal fail. For nobod
should be bound to enslave himself for provision both for himself i
y* principal!. God, by making me one, charges me while sin,
with the maintenance of no more y one : till Trouble coming
me in y« world does oblidge me to more than the ordinary care, a
make me pay for my weakness, y> bro't me to it. ' My friend I
John Coleridge observing justly that 'if Herbert be often hard, 1
always has a meaning,' suggests that the drift of the pas?-;
show that the borrower's advantage, as well as the lender's, :
against an obligation to a married friend, a double view of the c
which is notable ; and he would paraphrase accordingly: 'The
married man may be surety to the extent of all his goods for 1
friend, but not more. If married, he may not be surety, both :
his family's sake, as in the preceding stanza, ami for his friem
sake; because even when the latter has brought himself to thrall I
the obligation he has accepted, he ought not to be required to w
for more than one person ; as he is himself only one, and love, wl
is & personal debt, makes him no more. But if, when married, ;
are surety for a friend, and " labour cease," that is, if the friend i
fail, yon have done him this wrong, that he is then bound to restore
your family, as well as yourself, to what he has deprived them
and ypnr wife and children, who are in this respect your we
come into the score against the debtor.
"Does the following appear clearer to the reader? As, if mar
you may under no circumstances be surety, so, if unmarried, yo
may give all for a friend, even your life. But as yon can only give
your life once, so have you only one estate to offer. If you involy
yourself beyond your means, yon are liable to work for two, as
were, viz., for your own maintenance, which, we assume, is I
longer provided for, seeing you have lost your estate, and for th
discharge of your liabilities ; but even the thraldom of a bondslav
is easier than this, for he is not bound to work for two. In shor
yon are one : love does not alter the conditions of your being, nnt:
after engagements contracted under a false sense of its claims
crash ensues, 'labour comes,' and then you find yourself in
presence of numerous demands, which multiply your weakne
twenty-fold, but leave your faculties those only of an individual."-
ILLUSTRATIONS. 381
•OWE. A Correspondent in "Notes and Queries" offers the following
laciuution : " If you are single, give all you have to the service .,f
kxl. But i o not be anxious to make the gift larger by toil ; for U<xl
nly retjuirts that which is suitable to the position in which He
as placed -ou. He bestows a certain 'estate 'upon every man
• He bestow* life ; let both be dedicated to Him. For if yon give
rst yourself, and then what He has giveii you, this is sufficient ;
ou need not try to be more rich that yon may be more charitable.
E if you choose a life of labour to gum an 'estate' beyond the
•pnal position assigned to yon in the providence of God, then yon
must reckon yourself responsible for the ' one man ' which God
made ' you, and for the other which yon make yourself beside*,
conceive the stanza to be a recommendation of the contemplative
;fe with poverty, in preference to the active life with riches" (1st
>. ix. p. 566). It may seem superfluous after these full Notes to
add more ; but I scarcely think Herbert's entire thought it brought
nt in any one of them, or in the whole. Looking, then, at " single,"
• seems to be the meaning : As yon would hazard your lite for
our friend, so hazurd your estate ; yet not more than your estate,
f yon hazard more and he fail, or fail yon, then must yon work for
o— for your own maintenance, and to pay his debt, or that part
of it for which yon have become security beyond the value of your
wn possessions. This the Jew or Pagan, who for his debts sold
limself unto slavery, was not bound to, for he did but one man's
aily work, and was maintained by his master. * Qod made you but
one, and to labonr as one ; for your friend cannot and docs not make
on more, unless — and now comes the only real difficulty— after
Dch weakness, such weak excess of love, yon have thus to labour
nr friend's debt and your own livelihood. Then yon and your
reakness having entered into bonds for two— for yourself and your
riemt — your weakness scores, or has to connt, as though it were
hat friend, and yon and it have to work, as aforesaid, for and as
two. Dr. Lowe errs, I think, in giving the verb "score " the sense
of the numeral, a sense it never has, and that does not agree with
he V work for two," which is the central idea of the sentence.
Page 29 : (o) " labour." Ibid. st. xlix. 1. 3.
" Facts that are to be useful in conversation mnst be acquired by
curate study and a retentive memory ; this is ' labour.' The
ierit of wit is its facility ; hence it mnst mostly spring from a
natural faculty; though Sydney Smith says that a man may sit down
-'inly of wit as systematically as to the stndy of mathematics.
nig np six hours a day to being witty, he wuuld come on pro-
^^•Muly by midsummer. Forced wit is always a failure. It must
|^pv«r be that ' invention comes from my pate as birdlime does from
! frize; it plucks out brains and all ' ('Othello,' ii. 1). Heal courtesy
^Brings from the desire to make others happy, and from a humble
I tense of one's own actual merit, combined with a regard to one's
own honour, which should be the standard of the attention we pay
I to others (' Hamlet,' ii. 2). Such motives to courtesy, how-
ever, are seldom found in courts. The poet refers only to the
•xternuls of courtesy, which are there well learned. It is the trick
of courte>y to make other men feel pleased with themselves. The
courtier knows even how to snub without seeming to wound amour
prr>i,re. The courtier may give 'greetings where no kindness is,*
which the courteous never does. In Herbert's time, ' courtesy '
and ' courteous' were oftener used of the external act than of the
inner motive, though the Apostle's precept is translated, ' Be pitiful,
be courteous,' where the Greek means ' lowly- minded* or
382
NOTES AND
'kindly-minded,' according to the word used (1 Peter :ii. 8);
the Nurse in 'Romeo and Juliet' pours forth her dirge in I
pregnant and pathetic terms :
• O Tybalt ! Tybalt ! the best friend I had I
O courteous Tybalt : honest gentleman !
That ever I should live to see thee dead."
(Act iii. sc. 2.")— Lows.
Little of the above disquisition de quibusdam aliis entered intcl
Herbert's present consideration. Dr. Lowe surely misunderstandi|
the words " wittie " and " wit." " Wit," in its modern pen
Sydney Smith's wit, cannot be attained by " ease." If not a nato
faculty, it can only be obtained by " labour." Herbert unqnestf
ably uses the words in the old sense of " wise " and " wigdo
" thoughtful " and " thonghtfulness."
Page 30 : (p) "proud ignorance." Ibid. st. 1. 1. 3.
"i.e. such as tries to hide itself, will use any uneasy artifice!
rather than expose its hand, show its cards. — N.B. 'his ' is used!
before ' rest' and ' cards' for ' its," the old use common in the Bible,!
Shakespeare, and writers of Herbert's time." — LOWE. Dr. Lowe is in I
error here : " proud ignorance " is a person playing cards ( = a per- 1
soninration) ; therefore " his " is required. Further : from frequent!
allusions, in the fashionable game of primero, and perhaps in OUM^H
the players, having on the hand originally dealt, set up their "rest"!
or wager, then " pulled," that is, drew other cards ; then discard^H
then perhaps vyed, as at piequet ; and then, as in it, played the!
"after-game." Any explanation of the phrase in the text must be I
conjectural, in our lack of information as to the rules ; but if it were]
optional to draw more cards, and the opponent were bound by the]
decision of the other, then a " proud ignorance," by continuing to]
draw on a weak hand instead of vying at one, would frequently lose.
A good player at ecarte will frequently play on a hand where a bad
player demands fresh cards. The " rest " was not the ordinary stake
tor which a game was played, but a separate and after or vying
wager, that was increased and varied with each player, according
(in priraero) to the cards he held, that is according to his reckoning
of tne odds or chances of the game as deduced from his cards.
St. 1. 11. 3, 4. This is a complete parenthesis or modifying reflec-
tion arising out of the previous words, and steal, &c. is to be takei
as following immediately on 11. 1,2: Entice all to speak of what
they know best (Sir Walter Scott's rule), and then further steal
&c., t. e. pick out of his information points on which by qnestionin(
or doubting you can get him to expatiate further. This is all tha
is meant by " steal," namely take out of his store, and making i
your own, bring out from him more. The parenthesis is— Entiei
all (or rather all you can); for there are some — and I mention i
that you be not of such — whose "proud ignorance " will lose such
value as they set themselves at, rather than show any of the little
they know. There is much of the owl's ignorance in the owl'i
silence with reference to your " silent " men. See more in next
Note.
Page 30 : (?) " treasure." Ibid. st. 1. 1. 4.
skill of the persons whom he asketh : for he shall give them occasion to
please themselves in speaking, and himself shall continually gather
ILLUSTRATIONS.
383
ec ' (" Essays." xxxii.). Bnt it is not well to ask question*
lorn furiosity. On that (core Dr. Johnson (Ays, ' Questioning is not
• mode of conversation among gentlemen. It U asMiiuiii^ u
iperi'irity, and it is particularly wrong to question a man concrrn-
g hiiii-elf.1" — LOWE. Kn prut ant. Dr. Johnson's dictum wag sorely
lute, that to " ask questions " U " assuming a superiority."
ihe very opposite is truer and deeper. Our questions may be the
[uition of our ignorance and of the other's " superiority." lint
i to nay. the quotation from Dr. Johnson is irrelevant here,
lerbert speaks not of questioning a man of himself and his private
kirs. but of seeking (as before explained) the subject on which he
learned, and picking something therefrom which, put qnestion-
gly, may draw him on to give you more information. Perhaps
steal " U not the happiest word.
Page 30 : (r) Coleridge. Ibid. rt. Hi. II. 3-6.
Coleridge annotates here : " I do not understand this stanza."
)r. Lowe supposes that the reference was misplaced, and ought to
imve been against st. xlviii. This is so, as shown by Pickering's
xiginul edition f IKiS), where the reference is given to St. xlviii.
But 11. 3-6 here ao present difficulties. Willmott observes: "The
jbscurity lies in the fifth line. The poet teaches calmness in dis-
rates by showing that intemperate zeal takes even the grace from
ruth. Then he asks, 'Why should I feel?' &o. For example, a
wrson argnes with me upon the climate of Egypt. He is decidedly
rung. I try to correct him. Bnt why should I trouble myself
lib his geographical errors, when I take so little note of his bodily
.is ? ' In love I should, bnt anger is not love : ' i.e. if I were
ily attached to this man I might have such sentiments, which
the natural breathings of love ; bnt anger has no relationship to
that passion, no, nor even that certainty of learning which is
wisdom : ' therefore gently move ; ' i.e. conduct the argument with
sweetness and discretion." Looking at the entire stanza this seems
to be the thought : Fierceness in argument, says Herbert, if you be
in error, makes your error a fault in the eyes of others, a seem-
ingly wilful prejudice and blind obstinacy. Fierceness towards your
Epoaent , if he be in error, treats his mistake, not as a mere mistake,
bnt as though it were a fanlt or crime in him (II. 1, 2). Then, by a
curious tnrn on the word " feel," he brings out his argument that
such u course is both unbrotherly and unwise. Why should yon, or
—as he says in imitation of the apostle's "we " (Eph. ii. 3) — why
should I " feel " more fierce at a man's mistakes than at view of his
sickness or poverty ? Troe, that in brotherly love I should feel it
more— feel it more feelingly, more compassionately— since errors of
mind are worse than bodily ills. But feeling it compassionately is
not feeling it fiercely or angrily— anger U not love. Nor is it
wisdom, neither wisdom as a question of victory ; for your anger
repel- your opponent and hardens him ; yon self-destroy your
chuin-e of victory : nor true wisdom, which in this is one with love,
a man's .-rmrs being, as aforesaid, worse ills than sickness orpoverty.
Therefore, urge gently what yon would advance.
Page 66 : (») " begun." 16. Affliction. 1. 25. Coleridge.
Coleridge remarks on this word : "Either a misprint or noticeable
idiom of the word began : Yes ! and a very beautiful idiom it is ; the
first colloquy or address of the flesh." The idiom is still in we in
nd. " Yon had better not btgin to me," is the first address of
• 'olboy, half angry, half frightened at the bullying of a com-
384
NOTES AND
panion. The idiom was once English, though now obsola
Several instances of it are given in the last edition o
"Martyrs," vol. vi. p. 037. It has not been noticed, however, th
the same idiom occurs in one of the best-known passages of 8h
speare ; in Clarence's dream, "Richard III.," i. 4 :
" O, then began the tempest to my soul "
("Notes and Queries," 1st 9. ii. 26.3). The following is the text I
note from Foxe (18:i8) : "Well," said master Sauuders, "
Lord Jesus Christ hath begun to me of a more bitter cup than ?nii
shall be; and shall [ not pledge my most sweet Saviour? \>-
hope . . ." "Begun to me " seems to be equivalent to "hathch
lenged." Bishop Hall, in his " Contemplations" (The T\v
Zebedee), writes, " O blessed Saviour, we pledge Thee according
our weakness Who hast begun to us in Thy powerful suffering-
See also Hanmer's Translation of Evagrius, book i. fol. 11. Bish
Eeynolds, in his " Meditations on the Lord's Last Supper" (c. via
furnishes another example of the same idiom : " Because He Hin
self did begin unto us lit. a more bitter cup." la Herbert here tl
meaning is = began its attacks or onslaught on my soul already I
pain, increased its vexations by vexatious ; the word being used
the sense of the Scotch schoolboy's colloquialism and as by Shak
speare supra. The other expressions quoted, though allied, a
rather different, and refer to the customs of health-drinking, whe
one " began," and it lay upon the honour of the others to toilow i
the self-same way and to the same extent. Hence such begin nit
was a challenge, yet not exactly an attack as here and in " Uicha:
III." The schoolboy phrase might now mean one, now the othe
according to circumstances.
Page 70 : (<) " outlandish root." 18. Faith, 1. 9.
An example of Herbert's "full thought" and "quaint conceit j
The injury which prevents his journey heavenward is the bite nfth
serpent, that has bruised his heel; the root is the antidote -- Christ'
sufferings — spoken of under the figure of a celebrated antidote, \iz
the snake-root of Virginia (Aristolochia serpentaria ; botanic nam
senega), " a most certaiue and present remedy against the v<
the rattle-snake. . . . Now the manner 'of the using thereof is th]
As soon as any is bitten by that creature they take of this herl>e an
chaw it in their mouthes, and swallow downe the juice thereof, an
also apply of the herbe to the wound or bitten place, which instant);
cureth them. But if it so happen that any being bitten cannot g<
of this herbe in any reasonable time, he dyeth certainly. Yet
within twelve hours after the biting he doe use this remedy, it will
assuredly recover him." (Parkinson, " Theatr. Botan.") " The |
powder of the herbe and roote taken in wine or other drinke hath
been found a certaine and present cure for the biting of a madcie- ]
dog." (Ibid.) It was also used in agues, pestilential levers, ami the j
pestilence (plague) itself. (Ibid.)
Page 71 : (;<) " With an exact and most particular trust."
18. Faith, 1.4:!.
" I find few historical facts so difficult of solution as the continuance,
in Protestantism, ol'this anti-Scriptural superstition." — COLERIDGE.
Page 78 : (f) "pull for prime.'" 25. Jordan, 1. 12.
As suggested in the place in our edition of Dean Donne, Satire ii.,
to " pull is to draw from the pack " (vol. i. p. M). Nares is ol this
ILLUSTRATIONS. 385
on, founding on a passage in Beaumont and Fletcher's " M"ii-.
omos," iv. 9. He is doubtful under " Prime," hut under " /
pres.-cs himself as above ; and to his ((notation we add frmn
The Church Militant," 1. 135, " To this great lotterie, and all
old pull," where "pull" is similarly used for drawing one at
larJ from a number. I repeat here onr note in Donne, ag supra :
Jtephens MS. reads 'as men pnlling for prime.' ' Prime," in
imero, is a winning hand of different suits [with probably certain
millions as to the numbers of the cards, since there were different
imes], different to and of lower value than a flush or hand of
mr] cards of the same suit. The game is not unknown ; but from
ch notices as we have, it wonld seem that one conld stand on their
Ads, or, as in ecurte and other games, discard and take in others
M Nares, s.r.). From the words of our text, the fresh cards were
rt dealt by the dealer, but ' pull'd ' by the player at hazard, and
e delays of maidish indecision can be readily understood ; albeit,
above, the Stephens MS. substitutes ' men ' for ' maid' — the latter
obably our author's later correction."
Page 81 : (u>) "watch a potion." 27. The Holy Scripture, 1. 21.
The word "watch" here has perplexed many. Willmott prints
match,*' and has this note : " All the editions read watch, which is
Hdently wrong; match seems to make the line intelligible; the
»ttered herbs brought together from different places com-
ose or make up the potion or medicinal drink." Coleridge also
Tote, " Some misprint." One difficulty in supposing a misprint is
tot " watch " is found not only in the editions of ltM2-3 onward,
t also plainly written both in the Williams and Bodleian MSS.
le meaning might be — forced no doubt, but characteristic — " as
spersed [—scattered and various] herbs do watch [to be made into
are eager to be made into] a potion " [as " glad to cure onr flesh ''
61. Man], so the scattered and various portions of the Holy
criptnres unite in guiding the Christian— as if conscious and
llad " so to do — to his " destinie.'' If it be said that we can only
>k for such plants as seize the opportunity of going into the pot, in
lat land where roast pigs with knives and forks cry, " Come, eat
e," I answer, True, and equally grotesque and quaint are many of
erbert's fancies. Nor did he standalone. In Hookes' "Amanda"
653) there is a whole poem dedicated to a description — vivid and
lemorable — of the different flowers stretching themselves in their
veral pjaces in eagerness to be " trod on " by the feet of a Beanty
their garden.
I cannot say that I am wholly satisfied with the above explanation :
nt neither am I with " match," which does not seem to yield a good
Me, The herbs might "match "one another, but it is rather
t-ot-the-way English to say that several herbs " match a potion."
hat is wanted — if "watch" must be pronounced an error — i» an
Divalent to " make up ; " and it is JDSt possible that the shortened
of old MSS. might be mistaken for a tv by a scribe, and be over-
joked in the Williams MS. by Herbert, and that the poet, thinking
ther of his main idea than his simile — though it suits that lino—
veral put together to make one whole, wrote "patch."
Page 95: (x) "bandying." 43. Humilitie,\.'X>.
Willmott annotates "contending together." It may have this
eaning certainly, but in French the same verb "bander" is to
ancly, as at Tennis and as at the game of Bandy; and in its more
uoai signification to bend a bow, or bind with bands, swaddle. It
C C
386
NOTES AND
is doubtless the origin of both onr words, and indeed Howell __
Cotgrave give: To bandie as at tennis: to bandy, to follow •
faction : Bandyed, Bande, and under liande is only given bent]
swathed [and the like], filleted, also handed or com!.:
In fact, they make to bandy and bandyed or bandied=our handflfl
banded. Minsheu gives to bandie or tosse a ball at Tennis ; bull
under Bandie only to follow a faction, and a bandying a factiAl
Coles, Kershaw, Dyche also give both meanings rightly, I think]
placing the tossing a ball second, as this seems to be a derivattal
sense following on the forming a party to play Tennis or Bandy.!
We meet with bandied in the sense of banded; and this seems VI
be the primary sense in "Romeo and Juliet" (iii. 1); thougn
Shakespeare, with his usual happiness of expression, makes it con
vey its double meaning. Here (in Herbert) it is the same ; but thi
scope of the whole poem shows the sense to be they re-unite as t
party to contend against their opponents. Marvell (Ki7^) uses th<
word as follows : " Who can, unless wilfully, be ignorant wb
wretched doings, what bribery, what ambition there are, how lo
the Church is without an head upon every vacancy, till among t
crew of bandying cardinals the Holy Ghost have declared for a Po
of the French or Spanish Faction ? " (Works, iny edition ; vol.
p. 256.)
Page 121 : (y) "descent and ascent," 64. Man, 11. 35-6.
All things are good, and of a nature sympathetic with our fle.
both in their being and in their coming down from the Father of i
good ; and they are the same to our mind, in their leading it
ascend from things created to the First Great Cause. So I to.
"descent and cause" to mean, albeit with some tautology in tl
use of "descent" in both clauses. The change to "ascent"
Page 121 : (z) " distinguished." Ibid. 1. 39.
Coleridge says : " I understand this but imperfectly ; distinguist
—they form an island ?" Willmott annotates : " May we not rat"
seek an interpretation in the first chapter of Genesis (9, 10) :
waters distinguished are the waters separated from the dry la
which then appears, and becomes the habitation of man; the wati
united are the gathering together of the waters, which God called!
seas; below, they are onr fountains and streams to drink; above, |
they are our meat, because the husbandman waiteth for the rai
and the latter rain. Both are our cleanliness. In the verses
Lent, Herbert had spoken of ' the cleanness of sweet abstinenc
the gentle thoughts and emotions which it gives, and the ' face no
fearing light.' Perhaps in this poem he employs cleanliness in th
same wide sense; as expressing the beanty, freshness, purity, and]
delight of which water,- in its many shapes and blessings, is made]
the minister to mankind." Willmott's explanation is excellent; but I
it may be as well to read, after " called seas," " the distinguishing of
the lower waters then leads Herbert to the Jewish distinguishing of
waters above and below the firmament."
Page 121 : (a a) " Cleanliness." Ibid. 11. 40-1.
Coleridge continues hereon : "and the next lines refer perhaps to
the then belief that all fruits grow and are nourished by water (?) but,
then, how is the ascending sap ' our cleanliness ? ' " The great poet-
ILLUSTRATIONS. 387
Title's explanation is accurate ; for it wag a belief in hot countries,
rhere rains were so essential and dry seasons parching and droughts
tot unfrequent, that water had a vivifying power which gave life to
he inert seed in the womb of the earth ; but it is not the " ascending
ap " that Herbert isspeaking of, but the rains and consequent filling
.ml overflowing of streams.
Page 121 : (6 6) " Man is one world, and hath
Another to attend him." Ibid. 11. 47-8.
Archbishop Leighton (on Psalm viii.) again remembers Herbert
lere, e. g. " What is man, &c. These words deserve to be con-
idered •. Thou mindest him in all these things, the works above
lim, even in the framing of the heavens, the moon and the stars,
lesigning his good ; Thou makest all attend and serve him." Bee
)euteronomy iv. 19 : also St. Augustine's Soliloquies, cxz. cxxi.
Page 133 : (cc) 75. Jordan.
The meaning is : When he first joyed in the Lord he sought out
Jie best means to express that joy; but that now, when he had
rossed over for good and become a settled inhabitant of God's
'rumised Land, all he need do is to speak in simple words what love
irMt.-s. In this he imitates somewhat the thought in Sidney's first
oniii-t ("Astrophfl and Stella"). On another occasion he says, that in
the fulness of its joy his heart can only repeat, " My joy, my life,
my crown," but that this is "a true hymn" (131). In 25. Jordan,
he thought is similar = Now having once for all crossed Jordan,
my joy can only express itself simply, and what more is required
when a loving heart would speak the truth ? Is there no beauty in
Truth herself? Can the need adornment ? Do I require to embellish
my verse with those inventions and ornaments which poets find
MMSary when describingand praising either their mistresses adorned
>y art or the fictions of their own minds ? No ; in my great happi-
icss I can but say, " My God, my King ; " hot it is my heart-verse,
t bos the beauty of truth, and is so accepted of the God of all truth.
lere in 75. Jordan, he says that a true loving heart needs only to
express itself simply as it feels : in the other two, that in his fatness
of joy he can but speak brokenly, but that such words are true
long*, and having the beauty of truth, require not the adornment
of a laboured wit. Harvey follows in Herbert's footsteps : —
" climbe Mount Calv'ry for Parnassus' hill.
And in his Saviour's sides baptize his quill ;
A Jordan fit t' instill
A saint-like stile, back't with an angel's skill."
(" Complete Poems : " my ed. p. 88.)
Page 133 : (d d) " burnish." Ibid. 1. 4.
In some of the old dictionaries (Bui hiker. Coles, Kersey, Blonnt)
thi- word is given as used technically in venerie for the spreading
out of a stag's horns when renewing. Though not noticed in diction-
vies, there is also evidence that, whether from corruption and
iimilnrity of sound or other cause, the word was used much an
inr^oon, to bulge or swell as a bud (snbst. burgeon, a bud or
pimple). The context shows we have one example here. Another
a to be found in Holland's Pliny, 1. xi. 87 : "A man groweth in
height and length until he be one and twentie yean of age ; then
begmueth he to spread and burnish in squareness." Another ex-
ample, relating to the legs of whole-hoofed auimals, is quoted by
388
NOTES AND
Richardson, s.v., though he misses the sense : "well may they sh
out bigger and burnish afterward, but (to speak truly and proper
they grow [after birth] no more in length." Dryden also uses i
word in the same sense :
" Bumish'd and batt'ning on their food, to show
The diligence of careful herds below."
(" Hind and Panther," 11. 39
Christie, in his " Dryden " Glossary and Notes overlooks the not
able word. Halliwell gives burnish, also same as barnish ; and 1
is a Southern and Western word for " to increase in strength i
vigour, to fatten ; " and this variation seems to confirm the
being a colloquial corruption of burgeon into the more fan
burnish (as the ship Bellerophon becomes Billy Ruffian), for
peon a pimple is in Devonshire barngun. See our Glossaria)
dex, s.v.
Page 152 : (e e) "poore sand." 90. Providence, 1. 47.
Leighton remembered this (on Ps. viii.); "The sea fitted
navigation, together with the multitudes of creatures in it, sn
and great, and the impetnousness of it, yet confined and forced i
roll in its channel so that it cannot go forth ; the small sands givit
check to the great waters." Again : " To see the surges of a rou|
sea come in towards the shore, a man would think that they we
hastening to swallow up the land ; but they know their limits,
are beaten back into foam " (Sermon on Ps. Ixxvi. 10). Luther si
" Let our enemies indulge their transports of rage ; God has not !
up a stone wall to confine the waves of the sea, nor has He restraf
them by a mountain of iron. He thought it enough to place a sh
a barrier of sand " (" Tischredon," 447).
Page 154: (//) "windes." Ibid. 11. 91-2.
" The windes, who think they rule the mariner.
Are rul'd by him, and taught to serve his trade."
In one profound and wondrous sense God alone "rules"
"windes;" and our blessed Lord nowhere asserted His suprt
and absolute divinity more impressively than on the sea, when
" commanded " the humanly-uncontrollable unreachable " wini
and they "obeyed" Him. Man qua man "rules" much, but
" winds " are uniquely beyond his control. (Cf. St. Matthew i
27). Nevertheless there is another sense wherein man does " ru
even the "winds." That is, given God's providence that allo
them to blow as He lists, it is of God's providence that man in
reason can make them in the very act of opposing do his purpose,
und carry him, by adjusted sails, whither he would. Nothing on the
sea, unless in case of a storm, that shows the power of GUI] mid
man's impotency beyond a given point, so strikes the imagination as
this power of man over the winds and waters, through the reason
granted him; and in this visible contention and masterdom lies the
poetry of a sailing ship over a steamer In the one you compel the
winds to do your will and send yon whither they would not; in (' "
other you call in another power of nature, an irresistible invisi
power, which has nothing to do with the winds, and which, in i
irresistibility, does not need to bend them to man's will, and
diminishes the appearance of contention — man standing, as it wen
idly by, as Solomon at the building of the Temple. It is suggestr
that the lesser triumph of man thus more powerfully acts on
imagination than the greater.
ILLUSTRATIONS. 389
Page 157 : (ff g) 91. " Hope."
From their interest I have deemed it right to give in this place
Htain " Notes and Queries" on this little poem in the publication
nder this title. Having been made the subject of a "query "by
•. D. (1st 8. iz. 54) as enigmatical, two replies were tent and
rinted. The first was from F. C. H. (—the late venerable and
•rned Dr. Hnsenbeth, of Cossey, Norwich), and is as follows :
The short poem of this author [George Herbert] entitled Hope
orus evidently upon matrimonial speculation ; though it may well
trve to show the vanity of human expectation in many more
lings. The watch was given apparently to remind Hope that the
me for the wedding was fairly come ; hut Hope, by returning an
ichor, intimated that the petitioner must hope on for an indefinite
ime. The next present, of a prayer-book, was a broad hint that
le matrimonial service was ardently looked for. The optic glass
iven in return showed that the lover must be content to look to a
cospect still distant. It was natural then that tears of disuppoint-
nent shonld flow, and be sent to propitiate unfeeling Hope. Still
he sender was mocked with only a few green ears of corn, which
night yet be blighted, and never arrive at maturity. Well might
he p<>or lover, who had been so long expecting a ring as a token of
he fulfilment of her anxious wish, resolve in her despair to have
lone with Hope. After writing the above the thought occurred to
ne that the poet's ideas might be so expanded as to supply at once
he answer to each part of the enigma. I send the result of the
ixperiment : —
' I gave to Hope a watch of mine ; but he,
Regardless of my just and plain request,
An anchor, as a warning, gave to me,
That on futurity I still must rest.
Then an old prayer-book 1 did present,
Still for the marriage service fit to use ;
And be in mockery an optic sent,
My patience yet to try with distant views.
With that I gave a phial full of tears,
My wounded spirit could no more endure ;
But he return 'd me just a few green ears,
Which blight might soon forbid to grow mature
Ah, loiterer! I'll no more, no more 111 bring.
Nor trust again to thy deceiving tale ;
I did expect ere now the nuptial nng
To crown my hopes, but all my prospects fail." " (x. 18.)
, D. was not satisfied by this lighter interpretation ; and so an-
red his own " Query " with this " Note, thus : " The reply to
, inserted in vol. x. p. 18, did not at all satisfy me. I now beg to
• the accompanying, given me by a friend, as seeming more sng-
:ive of the author's probable meaning : ' I gave to Hope a watch
mine (i.e. a timepiece representing fleeting time). I receive in
change a sure and steadfast hope (the anchor). Then taking to
ayer, I receive from him an optic (the eye of faith). I fall to re-
ntance (the phial full of tears). He gives a few green ears (the
omise of better things;. I turn away impatiently (rebellionsly).
I did expect a ring (completion of my desires, not expectation merely),
the whole seems the picture of man, impatient in u-arking out his
lvation, dreaming his faith and repentance shonld at once obtain
leir full reward.''4 (x. p. 333.) Looking at these communications
itically, it seems clear that Dr. Hosenbeth has erred, led away by
word " ring," and from onmindfulness of Herbert's cooceitfnl
390
NOTES AND
style. His suggestion, moreover, is against nil we know of Herhert'i
life and marriage. The Friend of the Querist was in the main right.
It is the picture of a man impatient of results when working out his
salvation. The timepiece is his mute appeal that time has past, an "
the time of results, the expected hour, come. Hope replies with th
anchor : the hope is sure, but you must ride out the tide. Man-
that is, Herbert, gives a prayer-book : he has prayed and hoped loii|
and now the answer should come. Hope gives a telescope, which I
the eye of Faith shows the desired end distinctly and near, though
far off. Then are given tears, pleadings of misery, powerful wi^
the compassionate ; but with lesser kindness than before Hope
turns a few green ears. So if yon water and tend, your fruit sha
be sixty-fold, ay, an hundred-fold ; but be remiss, and the fruit will
be blasted. This is the answer ; and I looked for a ring of betroth
to Happiness, from whom joined of God no power should put
asunder. The poem is a narrative-picture of one of Herbert's ma
despondencies.
Page 157 : (h K) "cockatrice." 92. Sinne's Round, 1. 5.
" For one cockatrice or basilisk, the diminutive king of serpent
half a foot long, but so venomous, that it sluyeth serpents and i
| that hath life by his breath and by his sight, but is overcome by I
weasel, who fortifieth himself against the venom by eating rue.'
See Batman. The latter portion is based on tales of the serpent
killing and weasel-like mungous of India, which, however, as now
proved, eats no antidote herb. The mediaeval basilisk, or cockatrice, I
was, however, a stranger animal, with legs, wings, a cock's head, a
serpentine tail, and possessing the same venomous properties, aiW
horn of a cock's egg hatched under a toad or serpent (Sir Thomas I
Browne's "Vulgar Errors," iii. c. 7). The allusion in the text istol
thoughts working together for evil ; as, according to another fable,!
the egg was borne aloft and along, hatching or to be hatched, by the I
busy intervening of a number of serpents.
Page 163: (i i) " snudge." 97. Tiddineste, I. 11.
"To walk along [or go generally] as it were wrapped in oneself,
without regarding persons or things that may be in the way."—
DYCHE. Also, to go as one full of business. Greene, nt the end/oi
his " Menaphon," says that Doron, having discovered the high degree
of the lady he had loved, " snndged him selfe up, and jumpte a mar-
riage with his old friend Carmela," where it seems to mean, betook
himself to his own rural business, and settled down to it. The noun
means a country churl, and like many living apart, a curmudgeon, I
miser ; and snndging was the miserly way of a miser. To " snudge"
also signified to go slily or sneakiugly, and hence the noun also mean!
a sneaking fellow.
Page 181 : (j j) 111. The Pilgrimage. 1. 147.
Willmott in his introduction to his edition of Herbert writes on
this : " The characteristic of Herbert's fancy is fruitfulness. The
poetry, like the theology of that age, put all learning into an abrid
ment. A course of lectures flowed into the rich essence of a sing
sermon. A month's seed bloomed in an ode. The 17th was
contradiction of the 19th century, the object being then to give the
most thought in the smallest space, as now to sow the widest field
with the frugallest corn. Herbert's 'Pilgrimage' is an example.
Written, probably, before Banyan was born —certainly while hewai
an intaut — it contains all the Progress of i.he Pilgrim in outline. We
ILLUSTRATIONS. 391
be shown the gloomy Cave of Desperation, the Rock of Pride, the
Mead of Fancy, the Copse of Care, the Wild Heath where the Tra-
veller is robbed of his gold, and the Gladsome Hill that promises a
l»ir prospect, bnt only yields a lake of brackish water on the top.
Such a composition wonld scarcely escape the notice of that Spenser
of the people, who afterwards gave breadth and animation and
Bgures to the scene " (pp. xxv.-vi. )
Page 188 : (A A) " All-heal." 116. An Offering, 1. 22.
Marvel! daintily introduces " all heal " into his " Damon the
Muwi-r," as follows :
" Alas ! said he, these hurts are slight
To those that dye by Love's despight.
With shepherd's purse, and clown's all-heal,
The blood I stanch and wound I seal."
'Whereon, in the place, I have this note : " . . . the latter, in Cole's
English Dictionary, 1708, is called Clown's wound-wort. See some
Mas on mistletoe = All heal, in ' Notes and Queries,' 3rd Series,
rii., by Dr. William Bell ; also Dr. Prior's • Popular Names of British
Plants . . . Gerarde's name for a species of Glidewort or Ironwort,
or Clown's All-heal or Clown's Wound-wort; so called because a
•SllllJ limn healed himself with it of a scythe-cut in the leg, and so
gkmoused it to all posterity'" (Works of MARVKLL, i. pp. 71-2).
Herbert finely applies it to Jehovah Rophi, Jehovah the Healer.
Page 210 : (/ /) " casks" 133. Dotage, 1. 1.
A cask of happiness, much more " cntks of happiness" would be a
very pleasant thing and not a "guilded emptinesse," hut a solid plea-
rare. Our idiom does not allow of taking " cask " as a mere empty
cask in such a phrase. It will be seen also on examination that
there is some attempt to keep np a parallelism of difference in the
two stanzas — one of pleasures in the world, the other of its sorrows ;
and the phrase set against this in the second stanza is "rooted
miseries. A cask, i.e. a casque of happiness, wonld signify emptiness,
but «ould be the strangest of expressions, and in nowise correspond-
ing with "rooted miseries." The word I feel inclined to substitute
wonld be " husks : " this perhaps, by thought of the grain or seed
that was wanting, might have suggested "rooted miseries;" the
grain of misery sown wonld produce a rooted plant itself, bringing
forth miseries forty-fold or more. There is indeed the word " lask,
which became almost a technical term for diarrhira, and this, in both
old and new dictionaries and glossaries, is the only meaning given it ;
bnt it was also used for a syringe, and this, and the word laMchynge
quoted by Halliwell :
" For lyze lasschynge flame allethe londe over,"
and similarly used, indeed, in our own day, might allow us to read,
" casks of happiness " = jets or gnshes of happiness. But we want
an example of the word in that sense, and I donbt whether in
Herbert's time the word was used for anything bnt diarrho-a or a
syringe. The latter sense is found in Parkinson. I have not ven-
tured to nse the word " husks," bnt submit above remarks.
Page 211 : (m m) " meaning." A True Ilymne, 1. 2.
Here, as in 125. Praise, 1. 1, and as in legal phraseology in Scot-
land, the word signifies "declare," or "set forth," just in fact as
" signify " is used in the same sense of declaring or setting otth. In
392
NOTES AND
older books " mean " is used in the same sense in such phr
and so, meaneth in his book, &c. Whether also it •
the speaker's word, or a mere professional phrase put into his mont
we find that, in Mead and Penn's trial, in 1670, Mead says, " T»l
notice he [the witness] means now a clean contrary thing to what'l
swore;" where there is no question of "meaning" in our sense i
the term, but a pointing out that the plain statement of the witness
was a different statement from that he had sworn before the Mayor
at the committal. See Note in our Sidney, as before, vol. i. p. 121.
Sidney also uses it as "declare," " Astrophel and Stella," xxxv. (vol. i.
p. 21), on which see our Note. In the next piece, I. 9, Herbert uses
the word in a sense of which I can recollect no other example, ex- I
cept in "The Church Porch," Ivi. 4. It would almost seem that be- f
cause " mean " is a synonym for " intend " in such phrases as " Ha
means well," Herbert therefore thought himself entitled to use it
the primary sense of intend, and one in which it was in that i"
often used, namely, to stretch towards, seek, aim at.
Page 219 : (n n) " amber-greese," 145. The Odour, I. 2.
I transfer here from my edition of Marvell's Poems a note on
" amber-greese," as follows : " sea-born amber=ambergris, then
spelled at full amber-greece or -griece, but in French as two words,
ambergris. It was considered one of the varieties of amber. Cot-
grave enumerates " Ambre blanc [tjuery — a variety of ambergris ?].
Ambre crud, as it is before it is polished and made transparent (by
the fat of a sucking pig). Ambre gris, Ambre-greece, or gray umber
(the best kind of amber), used for perfumes. Ambre noir, the
worst kind of amber (jet, or in which jet was included), usually
mingled with aloes, storax, and suchlike, aromaticall simples for
Pomander chains [Poma ambrte]. Ambre de Pateruostres, bead
amber, the ordinary yellow amber." See more in the place :
Marvell, vol. i. p. 44.
Page 220 : (o o) " sphere," 146. The Foil, \. 2.
The circle and sphere being held the most perfect of figures and
forms, and the heavens being regarded as perfect and unvarying, it
was a supposed necessity that each body and each motion >•< in-
formed thereto. Hence the elements had their spheres, the sky its.
each planet and star its, and hence also, when it was found that
circular motions did not accord with astronomical observations, the
epicycles spoken of in Divinitie were super-added. See previous not*
on 104. Divinitie, 1. 25.
Page 221: (p p) "harbinger" 147. The Forerunners, 1. 1.
An officer of the king's household, who went before to allot and
" mark " the lodgings of the king's attendants in a " Progress."
Nares quotes a passage so illustrative of the text as to warrant
citation : —
" I have no reason, no spare room for any,
Love's harbinger hath chalk'd upon my heart,
And with a coa.1 writ on my brain ' For Flavia,'
This house is wholly taken up, ' For Flavia.'
Albumazur. "
Harbingers of course brought the earliest and last news, and hence
the word has obtained a secondary meaning different from its deriva-
tion, from harbergh, harbour, or lodging. See our edition of Dean
Donne's " Poems, s. v.
ILLUSTRATIONS. 393
Page 221 : (q q) " dispark." Ibid. I. 3.
To understand the full meaning of this, it must be remembered
that a " park " could only be such by immemorial prescription or by
royal license, and could only be "disparked" by royal authority.
The owner was placed, as it were, as a royal gamekeeper, with sole
power to destroy the royal game. In land enclosed without such
authority the animals were, as in unenclosed land, wild beasts, ferte
witurte, and no action would lie against any one for killing them,
bnt for trespass only. Of course harbingers conld not " dispark,"
except as king's messengers sent with special mandate to that effect.
But the thought that Death's harbingers are dispossessing the
whole family of a man for new tenants, that is, for worms, naturally
leads to the thought of new possession under altered tenure.
Page 222: (r r) " Canvas." Ibid. \. 26.
See previous note on the " Church Porch," st. xlv. 1. 6. Arras was
the best kind of tapestry or woven hangings, which reached its per-
fection in the Gobelin tapestry. Canvas- the painted cloths, which,
as cheaper, came to be used instead of arras — canvas painted with
figures and moral sayings in prose and verse. Falstaff recommends
them when the hostess says she will have to pawn her plate and
tapestry [arras, &<•.] to furnish him with money (" 2 King Henry IV."
ii. 1>. And in " As Yon Like It" (iii. 2) Orlando says, " I answer you
right painted cloth, from whence yon have studied your questions ; "
and in " Lncrece " we have :
" Who fears a sentence or an old man's saw,
Shall by a painted cloth be kept in awe."
Page 230 : (*«) "his tincture," 154. The Elixir, \. 15.
dp in Williams MS. and the Bodleian, 1632-3 edition, and all the
earlier save 1656 and 1674, which read " this." Unhappily Bell
and Daldy's (1865, &c.) follows the misprint. His=its, as usual
with Herbert. Nothing so mean with its (his) tincture (viz. " for
Thy sake ") bnt will grow bright, &c. ; i. e. by the admixed colour-
ing or virtues of the ingredient " for Thy sake." Dr. Macdonald
thus speaks of Herbert's use of the word " tincture " here : " The
Elixir was an imagined liquid sought by the old physical investi-
gators, in order that by its means they might turn every common
metal into gold, a pursuit not quite so absurd as it has since appeared.
They called this something, when regarded as a solid, the Ptulo-
sapher's stone. In the poem it is also called a tincture" ("Antiphon,"
p. 17"'). So too Dr. Donne's use of the word is pointed out by the
•ame critic, as follows : " As an individual specimen of the grotesque
form holding a fine sense, regard for a moment the words,
" He was all gold when He lay down, bnt rose
All tincture."
Which means that, entirely good when He died. He was something
yet greater when He rose, for He had gained the power of making
others good. The tincture intended here was a substance whose
touch would turn the basest metal into gold " (Ibid. p. 124). Cf.
our edition of Vanghan, i. 193. Thankfulfor Dr. Macdonald's all-
too-few critical remarks, and speaking under correction, I rather
think he is mistaken in making the Philosopher's stone, Elixir, and
Tincture synonyms. The stone is the transmuting stone, as in lu.»t
stanza. The Elixir is the eluir vita, that which refreshed au.l
394
NOTES AND
prolonged life. A Tincture, again, is neither one nor the other, 1
an admixture in painting, dyeing, chemistry, &c., when one part, ih
rehicle, receives the colour, or the properties or virtues of the other
part, forming such a compound as is fitted for the use intended, <
such as possesses or appears to possess the purer and subtler parts <
the substance whose virtues are extracted. Hence, first in pener
usage it came to mean the effects of such admixture, and was equiv
lent to straining or colouring. Secondly, it was used sometimes i
a low sense, as when it is said a man has a tincture of learning
meaning an outward colouring or staining. Thirdly, a tincture
the arts, medicine, or alchemy, represented something more reft
than the original substance; and in this view what were called
tinctures of the metals were employed in the processes for ohtuiniu
transmutation and the philosopher's stone and elixir. Here
Herbert it appears to be used in the sense of purifying the has
material to which it was applied or with which it was incorporated.
Page 214 : (u «) " Constantine's British Line." The Church
Militant, 1. 93.
The thought is here obscure and probably far-fetched. When
Constantius C'hlorus Caesar, in Britain, died at York, his son Con-
stantine wns proclaimed and eventually became emperor, anil on his
conversion gave, so to speak, a crown to the Church. Thus his ris
in Britain, and his giving a crown to the Church, foreshadowed, say
Herbert, or was a type, that hereafter Britain should give the
Church a crown ; meaning that at the Reformation Henry VIII.
would put down the usurped authority of the Church, and make it a
national Church, and the State's head its supreme head. This is «
the more probable interpretation of " giving the Church a crown to
keep her state," inasmuch as Herbert afterwards distinctly dis-
sociates the Church from the Papacy and Papal polity, culling the
latter " the reign of Sin" The mode of giving also corresponds!
the action of Henry being more like that of Constantino than that of
John in his giving up of his crown to the Pope, which otherwise we
might have supposed to be the reference.
Page 279 : (u u but should have been v v) in. On Lord Dancers,
" Another monument for thee," 1. 10.
The quaint idea of the name and virtues of the dead beinga monu- .
ment to the marble beneath which they rest, is not original. AJBM
similar thought is found in an epitaph on Euripides, :uii'>ni_r Mie
Greek epigrams by uncertain authors (Jacobs, iv. 231, dxxxvi.).
The following translation of it is taken from No. 551 of the
" Spectator " :
" Divine Euripides, this tomb we see,
So fair, is not a monument for thee
So much as thon for it. since all will own
Thy name and lasting praise adorn the stone."
In the monument of Drayton (Westminster Abbey) there is almost a
parallel to Herbert's on Danvers altogether :
" Do, pious marble, let thy readers know
What they and what their children owe
To Drayton's name, whose sacred dust
We recommend unto thy trust.
Protect his memory, and preserve his story,
Remain a lasting monument of his glory.
ILLUSTRATIONS.
395
And when thy ruins shall disclaim
To be the treasurer of his name.
His name, that cannot fade, shall be
An everlasting monument to thee."
also "Nngae Canon? " (1827) for another. (Dodd's " Epigram-
atists," 1870, pp. 232, 234.)
Page 282 : (v v but should have been ic to) vi. To ye Queene of
Bohemia.
Q. H. is placed prominently at the head of this poem in the MS.
It has a good deal of the rhythm and breaks of Donne, and this I
take as a confirmation of the Herbert authorship, for elsewhere he
remembered and copied his friend Dean Donne. So too with
L'Envoy, as at end of "The Church Militant." Line 13, "optick"—
the crystalline sphere. I do not think the reference is to the
magnilying effect of the sphere, but to it as an optic or glass in
which we see the proportion and form of lines, which, looked at
otherwise, are mere confusion. Such optic is the perspective-glass
Co noticeably spoken of by Herbert in " The Temple," and which in
other authors are called optics. Thus an undistingnishable picture
revealed itself, when seen in a cylindrical mirror, into a portrait of
Charles I. This out-of-the-way illustration, as being common to
Herbert in "The Temple" with this, perhaps additionally confirms
his authorship of these Lines. See Glossarial Index under " Per-
spective." Miss Benger (1825) has written the life of Elizabeth
Stuart. Queen of Bohemia. She died February 13th, 1662. Mr.
Henry Hnth has given these two poems from another and not accu-
rate MS. in his "Inedited Poetical Miscellanies : 1584-1700" (1870).
He modernizes throughout. Line 30, "about" is — a bout, i.e.,
turn.— G.
22. 157, »7S,
413.
. three, 61.
In the m
parallel to
"IX
What
To Draj
We recon.
Protect his
Remain a lit:
GLOSSARIAL INDEX.
NEARLY all the references will be found to give
more or less full notes on the respective words.
Different forms of the same word are placed to-
gether. It is only intended to record herein
words peculiar to Herbert and his contemporaries,
or in some way noticeable — not words used in
their present and ordinary senses.
; EJECTS, 47.
Abroach, 55.
Abusiveness, 25.
Accesse, 134.
Accord, 53.
Advise, 135, 129, 156.
Affect, 33, 223.
Affecting, 26.
After, 100. 168.
Aims, 190.
Allay, 24.
All-heal, 18S, 391.
; Almes, 34, bit.
, Alone, 19, 32, 380.
Alone-onely, 218.
Amber-grease, 219, 392.
Amitie, 120.
Amounts, 85.
Angell, 182.
Angels' age, 72.
Angrie, 116.
•Anneal, 91, 150.
Antiphon, 74.
Apparitions, 86.
Apple, 139.
Arbonr, 87.
Arras, 28, 210.
Art, 61, 60, 153.
Articling, 179.
Ascent, 121, 386.
Aspect and Aspects, 113, 141, 216,
247.
Assay, 24, 55.
Author! tie, 115.
Avoid, 40.
Bait, 10.
Balcones, 112.
Balsome, 43, IP*.
Bandie and Bandying, 95, 21'
335,386.
Bands, 104.
Banes, 260.
Bare, 36.
Bate, 13, 28.
Beacon, 26.
Beads, 43.
Beast and Beast?
380. o5.
Beat, 185. .opes, 22. 157. 878,
Began, 66, 3°
Behinde, 21
Behither /, 212.
Bell, be.ed, three, 61.
398
GLOSSAR1AL INDEX.
Bias, 98.
Checker'd, 90, 152
Biere, 129.
Childhood, 64.
Bigge, 11, 26.
Chime, 35, 107.
Bill, 137.
Chiming, 209.
Bitternesse, 47.
Chinking, 143.
Blessing, 38.
Choice, 214.
Blots, 10.
Christ-crosse, 243.
Blond, 21.
Blow, 200.
Christ- side-piercing, 72.
Civilitie, 25.
Board, 33.
Cleanlinesse, 121, 138, 6, 17.
Boldnesse, 23, 27.
Clerk, 71.
Bone, 198.
Cloth, 16.
Boot, to, 34.
Clouds, 31.
Bosome, 28.
Clouts, 128.
Bosome-sinne, 65.
Clue. 18, 376.
Both, 29, 219.
Coast, 211.
Bounds, 10.
Cock, 27.
Bonre, 132.
Cockatrice, 157, 390.
Box, 87, 110, 111, 116.
Commerce, 220.
Boxed, 52.
Common, 10, 11.
Brags, 93.
Companie, 18.
Brain, 59.
Complexion, 24, 105.
Brave, 15, et frequenter.
Braverie, 24 (bis).
Concert, Consort, 60, 79.
Conserve, 245.
Braves, 82.
Cops, 181.
Breaks, the square, 185.
Corall-chain, 95.
Breed, 16.
Corporation, 115.
Brevity, 69.
Broach and Broacht, 155, 172.
Cost, quit the, 32.
Country-aires, 160.
Brook, 96, 130.
Course, 168.
Brow, 185.
Couzin, 37.
Brunt, 93.
Coward and Cowards, 14, 24.
Burnish, 133, 387, 388.
Crakt, 23.
Bnsinesse, 32.
Crazie, 91.
But, 57, 240.
Creation, 120.
By, 52.
Creed, 115.
By-wayes, 10.
Cross-bias, 67.
Crosse, 11, 35, 56, 83.
Callow, 114, 153.
Crown Imperial), 161.
Candle, 108, 109.
Crystal, 174.
Canne, 12.
Cupboard, 121, 152, 206.
Canvas, 222, 393.
Cure, 57.
Captivate, 64, 248.
Curionsnesse, 22.
iptives, 82.
Curie, 100.
•d, 29.
Cyens, 196.
er, 210.
'37.
Daintie, 132.
HO, 391.
Dash, 218.
-7.
Date, 61.
.45.
Deare (cleare ?), 219.
In the n, \™-
Death's head, 195.
parallel to
Debt, 29.
Decay, 116, 233.
" D. t.
Decreed, 49.
What
Define, 224.
ToDraj
Defray, 249.
We recon.
Degree, 32.
Protect his
Delates, 79.
Remain a la:
Delight, 10.
GLOSS A RIAL INDEX.
399
i Demain, 94, 208.
Fool, not, 15.
| Depart, 184, 242.
Foolerie, 245.
Descent, 121,386.
Foot, 162.
Desires, 164.
Folly, 3S, 39.
Devest, 12, 114.
Fome, 87.
Devil, 21. 86.
For, 54, 245, 279.
Died, 146.
Forgo, 12.
Disburse, 216.
Forrain, 33.
Discolour, 84.
Fourtie, 21, 377, 378.
Dishes, 180.
Frailtie, 13.
Dismount, 120.
Fraught, 176.
Dispark, 221, 246, 892, 393.
Friendship, 28.
Dis|>eusings, 247.
Fright, 225.
Disseized, 75.
Frosts, 177.
Distill'd, 84.
Fume and Fumes, 64, 98.
Distinguished, 121, 386.
Ditches, 17.
Gallants, 12.
Dittie and Ditties, 42, 150.
Oeere, 142.
Doeging, 65, 250.
Gigler, 26.
Dolphin, 164.
Gives, 117.
Doom, 79.
Glasse, 46, 80, 130.
Doore, 52.
Glasse, third, 11, 12.
Double-dark, 47.
Glozing, 210.
Double-moat, 142.
Good, native, 33.
• Dresse, 39.
Good-cheer, 106.
Drown, 232.
Goode, cheap, 154.
Due, 35.
Good-fellowes, 20.
Dust, 59, 89.
Grain, 210.
Grasse, 16, 256.
Earth, 18.
Graves, 279.
Elements, 105.
Elixir, 229.
Guilds and gnilded, 24, 96.
Gunpowder, 23.
Ill, 40, 134.
End, out-an', 185.
Hale, 200.
Engineer, 26.
»•—*-_ shiftest, 156.
Enmitie, 45.
Handsel!, 80.
Environs, 185.
Handsomeness, 22.
Epicure, 13.
Harbingers. 221, 244, 392.
Epicycles. 173.
Hath, 243.
Even, 152
Hawk. 45.
Exact, 71.
He, 42, 46.
Exulted, 28.
Healths, 18.
Expatiate, 167.
Heap, 14.
Extend, 79.
He-are , 233.
Heaven. 37.
Face and Feet, 11.
Hell. 37.
False-glozing, 210.
Fats, 219.
Fearing, 13.
Her. 243.
Heranld, 23.
Here, 531.
Fears, 195.
Hewers. 37.
Fierceness, 30, 383.
High-priest, 151.
Fine, I'.',, 172.
Hi>, 53,230.
Flarine, 91.
Honour, 20.
Plat, 8U.
H"iiy -drops, 155.
Fledge-sonls, 231.
Hope and Hopes, 22. 157, 978.
Flegme, 15.
«», 890.
Floting. 127.
Host, 247.
Flout, Flouted, 38, 47, 52.
Humility, 212.
Flower, 208.
Hundred, three, 61.
400 GLOSSARIAL INDEX.
Ignorance, 30, 382. Lond 175
Image, 16. Love, 29,68.
Immure, 129. Low> S2
Jmp> i?f ' , , Lowre, 1.38.
Impal d, 11. Lullings, 118.
Impanatioa, 256.
Imprest, 84. Man, 40, 54.
Improve, 241. Man, old, 54
Impute, 71. Manour, 58
Mans,-c.'inde> 95.
Ineloser, 10. M , ](.
!31'tU<m Ket'-money,^.
.fferents, 171. Marking, 128.
I± HrA Mark-man, 98.
ction 26. , Mask 18
Ingress, 49. Match, 85.
In erlm'^ 190> Mattens, 85.
i . ., 248. Matter, 257.
invention, 75. Mean, 199, 211.
Meaning, 211, 301, 302
Jagg'd, 172. Means, 32, 212.
Jealonsie, 27. Measure, 21.
Jeat, 88. Meet, 76.
Jest, not, 38. Meres, 256.
Jordan, 78, 133, 387. Milkmaid, 26.
Journey, 20. Mistressing, 15.
Judas-Jew, 215. Mo, 120.
Judge, 38. Modest, 12.
Momentanie, 68.
King, 17. Moneth, 66.
Knows, 24. Most take all, 94.
Mother, 11, 12.
Labour, 29, 381, 382. Mounter, 80.
Late, 34. Mouth, 18.
Late-past, 208. Move, 171, 260.
Lay-hypocrisie, 18. Multiplied, 60.
Lay-sword, 202. My, 104.
Leap, not, 155.
Lends, 250. Names, 34, 243.
Lent, 15. Native, 33.
Lesson, 10. Neat and Neatly, 30, 91, 175,
Lethargicness, 32. 211, et alibi.
Let loose, 93. Neatnesse, 226.
Letting, 93. Needs, 17.
Lewd, 158. Neglecting, 52.
Licorons, 184. Net, 152.
Lieger, 80. Night, at noon, 184.
Lift, 73. Night-fires, 210.
Light, 28, 219. Noise, 175, 218.
Line, 244, 394. Noisomeness, 34.
Lingring, 67. None, 188.
List, 11, 78. Non-sense, 155.
Listens, 242. Not, 24.
Lives, 146. Note, 56.
Livest, 31. Notion, 31.
I oose, 19, 93, 242.
Lordship, 135. O, 159.
Lose, 12, 19. Object, 169.
Losse, 99- Obsexvest, 33.
GLOSSARIAL INDEX.
401
One, 258.
Prease, 65.
Onely, 49. 130.
Pretendeth, 123.
Opened, 177.
Pretence, 168.
Optick, 157, 282.
Orenge-tree, 106.
Prevented, 51, 215, et alibi.
Prick, 96.
Or = our, 281.
Pricking, 71.
Outlandish, 70, 384.
Priest, 44.
OutlawM, 10.
Prime, 78.
Over, 16.
Projects, 32.
Provide, 185.
Paces, 258, et aliin
Pull, for prime, 78, 345, 384
Park, 19, 132.
385.
Pains, 40.
Pulling, 175.
Painted, chaire, 78, 142.
Pure, 303.
Pant, 75.
Purling, 78.
Parcell, 19, 74.
Purloin 'd, 35.
Parcell-devil, 27.
Parley, 178.
Qoarrells, 34, 131.
Parodie, 228.
Quest, 92.
Part, 2«.
Quick, 21, 68, 168.
Particular, 71, 384.
Quickness, 100, 148.
Partie, 66.
Quidditie, 94
Partridge, 16.
Quip, 143.
Parts, good, 31.
Passe, 46, 135, 136, 157, 168.
Race, 77.
221.
Rack, 76.
Pay, broken, 84.
Ragged, 68.
Peculiar, 233.
Rate, 9.
Peere, 76.
Raz'd, 44, 177.
Pence, thirtie, 42.
Reckons, 34, 246, 347.
Pendant, 115.
Regiments, 96.
Period, 250.
Release, 101.
Perirrnanterinm, 9.
Relishes, 118.
Perquisites, 65.
Rent, 63.
Persoiiall. 29.
Reparation, 155.
Perspective, 86, 395.
Reprisal!, 54.
Phiuisies, 111.
Resigning, 148.
Pieiver, 163.
Respective, 27.
Pilgrim's Progress, 181, 390,
Rest, 17, 25, 102.
Restorative, 104.
Pitch, 32.
Restore, 199.
Place, 100.
Rheumes, 115, 163.
l'l:iirs, 175.
Right, 13.
Plaister, 63.
Ring, 205.
Pluy. 14, -10.
Road, 14.
Pleading-clothes, 22.
Rottennesse, 10.
pe**e, 29.
Round, 11, 157.
Plots, 37.
Roundly, 66.
1 Pomander, 220, 226.
Rub, 171.
;Poore, 204, 245.
Rug, 133.
tPos'd, 25, 379.
Ryme, 10, 78.
fPoaie, 52, 124, 132, 228.
Poste, t*9.
Sacrifice, 10.
Pot, H*.
Sad, 2rt, 27, 86, 379, 380.
Povertie, 30.
Sallet, 245.
Powder, 110, 12«.
Sand, 152, 387.
P.nsons, 153, 196.
Savour, 148.
Prayer, 37.
'Scape, 180.
Pre-possest, 230.
Schooling, 128.
D D
402 GLOSSARIAL INDEX.
Sconses, 18, 377.
Spread, 167.
Score, 29, 33, 57, 120. et alibi.
Sprinkled, 40.
Scraper, 20.
Sprnng-wine, 12.
Scraping, 21.
Square, 185.
Seminar, 25.
Suee, 55, 173.
Seal, 37.
Staies, 10.
Secretaire, 150
Stake, 14, 20.
Seeled, 118.
Starres, 21, 169.
Service, 27.
Stemme, 88.
Set, 93.
Sting, 33.
Severe, 15.
Stint, 200.
Shake, 102.
Stocking, 36.
Sheepishnesse, 16.
Store, 127, 194.
Shelf, 17, 376.
Stormes, 169.
Shiner, 109.
Stormie-working, 14.
Ship, 16.
Stowre. (See under Sowre).
Shipwrack, 12.
Straw'd, 66.
Shooters, 178.
Streamers, 200.
Shor'd, 112.
Streams, 152.
Showres, 244.
Stroking, 52.
Shrill, 175.
Strongly, 150.
Shrodely, 257.
Studious, 15.
Sicknesses, 30.
Suaviter, 150.
Sigh, 99.
Suhmissiveness, 13.
Signe, 35.
Silk-twist, 118.
Subsist, 50.
SubtUe, 73.
SiHie, 110, 144.
Such, 66.
Simper and Simpring, 18, 67
Sngred, 222.
204.
Sugring, 124, 149, 215.
Single, 29.
Single, market-money, 34.
Snmme up, 39.
Sunnebeam, 85.
Sink, 48.
Superliminare, 40.
Sinnes, sinnes", 146.
Suppling, 83.
Sits, 48.
Surety, 29, 380, 381.
Six and Seven, 36.
Sycomore, 112.
Skill and Skills, 21, 125.
Skipping, 52.
Tacks, 134.
Slack, 19.
Take, 160.
Sleight, 97.
Tallies, 99.
Sluttish, 115.
Tarantnlae's, 232.
Small, 152.
Task, 18.
Smooth, 104, 277.
Tears, 249.
Snudge, 163, 390.
Ten tat ions, 98.
So, 246.
That, 39, 148, 159.
Sommers, 112.
Thaw, 19.
Sonne, 211.
The, 279.
Sophisters, 243.
Theefe, 258.
Sorted, 65.
Their and Theirs, 27, 214.
Souldier, great, 25, 379.
Them, 16.
Sound, 250.
Then = than, 22, 199, et fre-
Sowre, 17, 24, 375, 376
quenter.
Sowre-sweet, 215.
There = their, 282.
Spann'd, 134, 165.
Thirds, 129.
Spare, 14.
This, 197.
Spell, 209.
Thorns, 45.
Sphere, 220, 392.
Thrall, 17, 48, et alibi.
Spider, 25, 379.
Thy, 53.
Spittle, 47, 53.
'Tied, 65, 221.
Sport, 23
Till, 162.
GLOSSARIAL INDEX.
403
Time, 250.
Vogue, 164.
Tincture, 230, 393, 394.
Vying, 46.
Tithe, 35.
Told, 230.
Want, 31.
To-morrow, 186.
Wants, 159.
Tort'ring, 180.
Watch, 39, 81. 106, 385.
Toy antf Toyes, 25, 58, et fre-
Watrish, 91. 282.
quenter.
Wat-ing, 147.
Train-bands, 142.
Wear, 19.
Treasure, 30, 382, 383.
Web, 25, 379.
Tree, 49.
Weeds, 48.
Trimme, 241, 246.
Weight, 35.
Trimmed, 49.
Well, 192.
Trimmer, 22.
Whenag. 196.
Troth, 31.
Where, 59, 250
True-earnest, 210.
Whey, 165.
True-love, 117.
Whistled, 143.
Trunk, 17.
Wide, 22.
Truss'd-well, 19.
Wilde-fire. 87.
Tune, 244.
Will, 30.
Turn'd, 111.
Windes, 154, 388.
Turns, 30.
Winding, 100, 133.
Twice, 156.
Winding-stair, 78.
Twine, 109.
Twitch, 24.
Window-songs, 149.
Wine-sprung, 12.
Two, 18, 24, 50.
Wishly, 259.
Wit, 29.
Underwrites, 19.
With, 280.
Understood, 35.
Wittie, 26.
Unhinge, 102.
Wo, 233.
Unmeasurable, 134.
Wold, 181.
Unpinne, 97.
Work, 64.
Unthrift, 22.
Working, 186.
Use, 20, 200.
Utter, 171.
Worky-dayes, 101.
World, 120, 206, 387.
Worm and worms. 27, 32.
Vein, 26.
Writhe, 98.
Verser, 9.
Vertue, 12, 14, et frequenter.
Yeare, 249.
Vied, 60, 117.
Yet. 20.
Vizards, 247.
THE END.
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