Synagogue. Granger may have been led into error by Crashaw's lines on Mr. G. Herbert's Book, of which he was a warm admirer. Sir John Hawkins, in his edition of Walton's Angler, says, that Christopher Harvey was the author; but whether he was the same individual who was Rector of Clifton in Warwickshire, and died in 1663, cannot be determined. The doubt is not worth the solving.

Herbert's circle of acquaintance embraced some of his most eminent contemporaries. It will be sufficient to name Sir Henry Wotton, the friend of Milton, Sir Henry Goodyere, Dudley the third Lord North, and James Duport. Sir H. Goodyere was the frequent correspondent of Donne, who says, in a letter addressed to him, "Mr. George Herbert is here at the receipt of your letter, and with service to you, tells you that all at Uvedal House are well*." Lord North was one of the most distinguished noblemen of the Court of James the First; but, having dissipated the larger portion of his estate, he retired to the country, and lived in penitence, or at least in solitude, on the remainder. He published a volume of Miscellanies in 1645, under the title of A Forest of Varieties, containing, among other poems, a series of devotions, in imitation of the 119th Psalm. In the introduction, he speaks of the "divinest Herbertt."

Mrs. Herbert survived her husband, and "continued, says Walton, his disconsolate widow about six years, bemoaning herself, and complaining that she had lost the delight of her eyes." Thus she remained, "till conversation and time had so moderated her sorrows that she became the happy wife of Sir Robert Cook, of Highnam, in the county of Gloucester.

* Letters, 1651, p. 236.

But she never forgot to

Sir Egerton Brydges has given copious extracts from this volume, in the Peers of James, 4to., p. 349, &c.

mention the name of Mr. George Herbert, and say that name must live in her memory till she put off mortality." She also "preserved many of Mr. Herbert's private writings, which she intended to make public; but they and Highnam House were burnt together by the late rebels, and so lost to posterity." Aubrey's account of their disappearance is not so satisfactory. Herbert, he says, wrote a folio, in Latin, which, "because the parson of Hineham could not read, his widow (then wife to Sir Robert Cook) condemned to the use of good housewifery." This intelligence was communicated to Aubrey by Mr. Cook, one of the sons of Sir Robert, whom he had desired to ask his motherin-law for Herbert's MSS.

HABINGTON AND VAUGHAN.

WILLIAM HABINGTON was born at Hendlip, in Worcestershire, on the 4th or 5th of November, 1605. His name has derived an historical interest from the imputed connexion of his father with the Gunpowder Plot, some of the agents of which he was accused of concealing in his house. But this charge rests on very doubtful authority; and Mr. Nash, the author of the History of Worcester.shire, discovered at Hendlip several letters, written by Habington to his wife and friends, declaring his entire ignorance of the conspiracy. William was educated at St. Omer's, and afterwards at Paris. To relieve himself from the solicitations of the Jesuits, who sought to win him to their Order, he returned to England, and finished his studies under the direction of his father, who was a scholar and a man of industry. Through the care of his affectionate tutor, he "grew into an accomplished gentleman;" and at an early age married Lucia, daughter of

Lord Powis, and who is said by Winstanley to have been a lady of rare endowments and beauty. Habington seems to have appreciated his good fortune, and to have taken no part in the political tumults that afflicted his country. The insinuation of Wood, that he “did run with the times, and was not unknown to Oliver, the Usurper," is refuted by the character of his poetry, and the nature of his creed. There could be no bond of union between the papist and the puritan. He died November 30, 1654*, and was buried in the family vault at Hendlip.

Time has dealt less harshly with his rhymes than with those of more gifted bards. His poems have been twice reprinted within a few years; by Chalmers, in the British Poets, and separately, by C. A. Elton, at Bristol. His own opinion of their merits was very humble. They were at first privately circulated among his friends, and the press afterwards bound "together what fancy had scattered into many loose papers." "Had I slept," he says, "in the silence of my acquaintance, and affected no study beyond what the chase or field allows, poetry had then been no scandal upon me, and the love of learning no suspicion of ill husbandry. If these lines want that courtship which insinuates itself into the favour of great men, best, they partake of my modesty; if satire, to win applause with the envious multitude, they express my content, which maliceth none the fruition of that they esteem happy." The great charm of his writings resides in their purity and domestic tenderness; the religion of his fancy is never betrayed into any unbecoming mirth, or rapturous enthusiasm. He is always amiable, simple, and unaffected: if he has not the ingenuity of some of his rivals, he is also free from their conceits. Gold ceases to be of any real value when

Chalmers says, November 13th, 1645; but he gives no reason for rejecting the date of Anthony Wood, who received his information from the poet's son.

excels his verse.

it is only fashioned into baubles. His prose, however, The character of a Holy Man will be accepted by all Christians as a delightful portrait of sincere, and even of tolerant, piety.

A HOLY MAN

Is only happy, for infelicity and sin were born twins; or rather, like some prodigy with two bodies, both draw and expire the same breath. Catholic faith is the foundation on which he erects Religion, knowing it a ruinous madness to build in the air of a private spirit, or on the sands of any new schism. His impiety is not so bold as to bring divinity down to the mistake of reason, or to deny those mysteries his apprehension reacheth not. His obedience moves still by direction of the magistrate; and should conscience inform him that the command is unjust, he judgeth it nevertheless high treason, by rebellion, to make good his tenets; as it were the basest cowardice, by dissimulation of religion, to preserve temporal respects. He knows human policy but a crooked rule of action, and, therefore, by a distrust of his own knowledge, attains it; confounding with supernatural illumination, the opinionated judgment of the wise. In prosperity he greatly admires the bounty of the Almighty Giver, and useth, not abuseth, plenty; but in adversity he remains unshaken, and, like some eminent mountain, hath his head above the clouds. For his happiness is not meteor-like, exhaled from the vapours of this world, but it shines a fixt star, which when by misfortune it appears to fall, only casts away the slimy matter. Poverty he neither fears nor covets, but cheerfully entertains, imagining it the fire which tries virtue; nor how tyrannically soever it usurp on him doth he pay to it a sigh or wrinkle; for he who suffers want without reluctancy, may be poor, not miserable. He sees the covetous prosper by usury, yet waxeth not lean with envy; and when the posterity of the impious flourish, he questions not the Divine justice; for temporal rewards distinguish not ever the merits of men. Fame he weighs not, but esteems a smoke, yet such as carries with it the sweetest odour, and riseth usually from the sacrifice of our best actions. Pride he disdains, when he finds it swelling in himself, but easily forgiveth it in another. He doth not malice the over-spreading growth of his equals, but pities, not despiseth, the fall of any man; esteeming yet no storm of fortune dangerous, but what is raised through our own demerit. In conversation, his carriage is neither plausible to flattery, nor reserved to rigour, but he so demeans himself as created for society. In solitude he remembers his better part is angelical,

*

and, therefore, his mind practiseth the best discourse without assistance of inferior organs! He is never merry, but still modest; not dissolved into indecent laughter, or tickled with wit, scurrilous or injurious. He cunningly searcheth into the virtues of others, and liberally commends them; but buries the vices of the imperfect in a charitable silence, whose manners he reforms, not by invectives, but example. In prayer he is frequent, not apparent; yet as he labours not the opinion, so he fears not the scandal of being thought good. He every day travels his meditations up to Heaven, and never finds himself wearied with the journey; but when the necessities of nature return him down to earth, he esteems it a place he is condemned to. live he knows a benefit, and the contempt of it ingratitude, and therefore loves, but not dotes on life. Death, how deformed soever an aspect it wears, he is not frighted with, since it not annihilates but unclouds the soul. He, therefore, stands every moment prepared to die; and though he freely yields up himself when age or sickness summon him, yet he with more alacrity puts off his earth when the profession of faith crowns him a martyr.

*

To

HENRY VAUGHAN was born in Wales, in 1621, and in his seventeenth year was entered of Jesus College, Oxford, from whence, after a residence of two years, he was removed by his father to one of the Inns of Court in London, where he studied the law, until the commencement of the civil war, when, we are told by Anthony Wood, "he was taken home by his friends, and followed the pleasant paths of poetry and philology." He afterwards applied himself to physic, and became an eminent practitioner in his native place. Thus his life glided harmlessly and beneficially away, at a distance from the miseries under which so many of his fellow-creatures were suffering. He lived in the neighbourhood of Brecknock; and in the Olor Iscanus are frequent invitations to his friends to partake of his rustic pleasures. He died, Wood thinks, on the 29th of April, 1695, and was buried in the parish-church of Llansenfried, about two miles from Brecknock.

Vaughan's poetry has never received the praise it deserves. Mr. Campbell pronounces him one of the harsh