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Known well nigh

Through all the plains of happy Britainy,

meeting, in their wanderings, the

Little flock of Pastor Philarete,

a shepherd's lad, the first who had ever sung his loves to those beechy groves.

They saw him not, nor them perceived he,
For in the branches of a maple-tree

He shrouded sat, and taught the hollow hill
To echo forth the music of his quill,

Whose tattling voice redoubled to the sound,

That where he was concealed they quickly found.

Philarete leads the ladies to a harbour, and they entreat him to sing. At first he refuses, but at length complies, and commences the poem. That a composition abounding in lyrical beauty, should have remained in almost total oblivion from the edition of 1633, until Sir Egerton Brydges' reprint in 1818, certainly reflects no credit upon the editors of our elder poets. Bishop Percy had, indeed, with an impropriety of taste singular in that accomplished scholar, pronounced it "a long pastoral piece;" but even the extract given in the Reliques might have tempted the reader to seek the work itself. Into the merits of the poem, however, I cannot enter, being anxious to confine myself to the more religious productions of its author. Viewed as the composition of a very young man, Fair Virtue may safely challenge a comparison with any poetical work in the language, produced at a similar age*. Its perusal may be recommended to every admirer of pure and unaffected poetry. He will find in it passages of natural tenderness, of delightful simplicity, of delicate fancy, and of picturesque description. The versification is varied and musical, and the diction clear and unaffected.

* In a sonnet at the end of Fair Virtue, Wither says, of summers he had seen "twice three times three."

VOL. I.

K

When Philarete had concluded his story, a lady from among the Nymphs, having taken up her lute, commemorates his talents in a little carol, entitled The Nymph's Song. A few stanzas will display its melody and grace:

Gentle swain, good speed befall thee,
And in love still prosper thou:
Future times shall happy call thee,
Though thou lie neglected now.

Virtue's lovers shall commend thee,
And perpetual fame attend thee.

Happy are these woody mountains
In whose shadows thou dost hide;
And as happy are those fountains
By whose murmurs thou dost bide;
For contents are here excelling
More than in a prince's dwelling.

There thy flocks do clothing bring thee;
And thy food out of the fields:
Pretty songs the birds do sing thee;
Sweet perfumes the meadow yields.

And what more is worth the seeing,
Heaven and earth thy prospect being?

Thy affection reason measures
And distempers none it feeds;
Still so harmless are thy pleasures
That no other's grief it breeds.

And if night begets thee sorrow,
Seldom stays it till the morrow.

In these lonely groves enjoy thou
That contentment here begun;
And thy hours so pleased employ thou,
Till thy latest glass be run.

From a fortune so assured,

By no temptings be allured.

Who does not regret that the wish breathed in the concluding stanzas of this song was not realized, that the poet did not continue to dwell in peace among those "lonely groves," by no false visions of ambition or of hope

allured into the tumult of active life, where he could gain nothing to compensate for the serenity and happiness he left behind!

Wither's favourite poets, at this time, seem to have been "Sweet Drayton," as he calls him, Thomas Lodge, and Sir Philip Sidney.

Mr. D'Israeli, in his amusing Quarrels of Authors, has not made any mention of the enmity which appears to have subsisted between Wither and Ben Jonson. The latter poet, in his Masque of Time Vindicated, which was represented with great splendour on the 19th of January, 1623, gave utterance to his dislike. Mr. Gifford thinks this poem a "kind of retort courteous" to the scurrilous satires of the day, and Chronomastix a generic name for the herd of libellists; but Wither, in the 7th canto of Britain's Remembrancer, considers the epithet applied particularly to himself. Speaking of the poetasters who delighted to disparage his talents, he says,

The valiant poet they [me] in scorn do call
The Chronomastix.

When he published his Abuses, &c., he spoke in honourable terms of "the deep conceits of now flourishing Jonson;" and it is not improbable that, while a gay and idle member of Lincoln's Inn, he may have quaffed a cup of claret with Ben at his favourite "House of Call," in Friday Street. At any rate their intimacy was soon divided, and frequent expressions of disgust may be found in Wither's poems, at the wine-parties and revellings of Jonson. There was, indeed, no bond of union between them, either in disposition or genius. Jonson, with his recondite learning, his antique imagery, and his ornate language, looked with unconcealed contempt upon the simplicity and homeliness of the Shepherd-poet.

A writer who sought for his treasures among the

"drowned lands" of ancient days, could not be expected to feel much sympathy with one who found music “in the least bough's rustling," and a spirit of sweet poetry in "the yellow broom at his feet."

Wither seems also to have incurred the hatred of Sir William Davenant. Southey* mentions an atrocious libel upon him in one of the plays of that author, where he is introduced in the character of an assassin.

I have already alluded to the Songs and Hymns of the Church. None of the poet's numerous works possess greater interest. Their history is detailed at length in the Scholler's Purgatory, a pamphlet addressed, about the year 1624, to Archbishop Abbot and the other Bishops of the Convocation, in vindication of the Patent. The Hymns and Songs arose out of a translation of Psalms, of which notice will be subsequently taken. Wither observed that the "excellent expressions of the Holy Ghost" were put forth in rude and barbarous numbers, while "the wanton fancies were painted and trimmed out in the most moving language ;" and that the people, like those against whom the prophet Haggai complained, seemed "to dwell in ceiled houses," while the temple of God was laid waste. Seeing, therefore, no other person prepared to make the attempt, he spent about three years in fitting himself for the task of translating the Psalms; but before he "had half ended them," the report "that one of much better proficiency had made a long and happy progress into the work," induced him for a time to relinquish his labours. That his original intention, however, might not be altogether disappointed, at the request of some of the clergy, he translated into lyric verse the hymns dispersed throughout the Canonical Scriptures, to which he subsequently added spiritual songs appropriated to the several times and and occasions observable in the Church of England. It

In a letter to Sir E. Brydges, April 8, 1836.

was for this collection that the royal patent had been obtained. Wither found a body of most active enemies in the Company of Stationers, who considered their own privileges invaded by his patent. Among other objections, they asserted that the hymns were written for his pecuniary benefit alone, a charge to which he in part pleaded guilty. "My weak fortunes," he says, "my troubles, and the chargeableness of a study that brings with it no outward supply, put me into a kind of necessity, as it were, to cast my thoughts aside unto worldly prospects. But I have since been sorry for it upon better consideration."

His anxiety respecting his Hymns may be pardoned. He had been induced by the kind and flattering favour of the King "to engage his credit almost 3007. further, to divulge the book ;" and by the animosity of the stationers, he felt himself deprived not only of all superfluities, but even of the means of subsistence. "For when those friends," he adds, "who are engaged for me, are satisfied, to which purpose there is yet, I praise God, sufficient set apart, I vow, in the faith of an honest man, that there will not be left me in all the world, to defend me against my adversaries and supply the common necessities of nature, so much as will feed me for one week, unless I labour for it."

His vindication of his own fitness for the work he had undertaken is manly and eloquent :

"I wonder what divine calling Sternhold and Hopkins had more than I have, that their metrical Psalms may be allowed of rather than my Hymns. Surely if to have been groom of the Privy Chamber were sufficient to qualify them, that profession which I am of may as well fit me for what I have undertaken, who having first laid the foundation of my studies in one of our famous Universities, have ever since builded thereon towards the erecting of such fabrics as I have now in hand.

"But I would gladly know by what rule those men

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