imagine that still greater talents remained concealed, and an importance was consequently attached to him which in reality he did not deserve. The minister and the opposition were equally desirous to gain him to their party; but carefully weighing the difference between receiving a pension from an unpopular administration, odious to the people on account of a war, which, with whatever justice it might be commenced, was become in the event extremely disastrous; and being accounted the idol of the people, with the prospect of still greater preferment whenever the present ministry should be discarded, the balance preponderated in favour of the latter, and he determined immediately to become a vigorous supporter of his "country and the opposition."

Hitherto we have only beheld Denterville in the retired walk of private life. There we have remarked his invariable restlessness, his peculiarity of disposition, his numerous wishes, and his constant disappointments. Now we shal! view him immerged from obscurity, and taking an active part in the concerns of the world. But, alas! to a mind naturally discontented, every situation is alike: he bears within him a craving something that can never be appeased. The virulence of his disorder is even increased by the very anxiety he employs for its cure. "Tis a wound that no unction can heala flame that can never be extinguished.

It has been the constant observation of all persons, in all ages, that the tranquillity of retirement is by far more congenial for the production of happiness, than the anxiety so inseparably attendant on business, or the continual bustle of a crowded city. If this remark is in reality founded (and is there any one that can for a moment deny it ?) on the immutable basis of truth and experience, we may naturally conclude, that the man whose countenance was always shaded with a frown while in the delightful enjoyment of privacy and ease, would not appear wholly serene when perplexed with the important concerns of a public station; or, to drop the allegory, that

the mind of Denterville would enjoy a greater portion of happiness when a member of parliament, immerged in the tumult of London, than as a private gentleman, while in the retirement of Cawdor Castle. Indeed he did not. He was not more satisfied now than he had formerly been; nay, the sources of his discontent were infinitely increased.

Whilst he had remained at his estate in the country, his acquaintance had been chiefly confined to the most respectable of his tenants, and a few of the neighbouring gentry. Amongst these there were none whose capacity were superior to his own, who could boast of more enlightened understandings, or whose minds had received a greater degree of cultivation. His tenants always submitted to the superiority of his judgment with a respectful obedience; and, even if they were inclined to dispute the equity of his decisions, the recollection of their dependency, and the danger of offending, were sufficient to restrain them from openly avowing their sentiments. The gentlemen with whom he had latterly associated, were literally-enthusiastic sportsmen; and, as it invariably happens, when an innocent amusement is converted into a daily labour, they neither understood, nor desired to understand, any science that was not connected with their horse, their dog, or their gun. If therefore Denterville was not greatly above them in the article of knowledge, he might with modesty boast of a perfect equality. He had consequently been hitherto free from that envy which is universally felt when a sensible mind is compelled to acknowledge a superior in abilities.

Now he was amongst men who were running with himself the same career; whose endeavours were directed to the attainment of the same object; whose emulation was augmented by competion; and who were neither to be influenced by his opinion, or intimidated by his frown: who excelled him in all the insinuating arts of persuasive eloquence; and to whose argument the house, both on account of their superiority in

birth, fortune, and abilities, paid a much greater deference than to his own. It may naturally be imagined that he should envy them, for those qualifications, by which the lustre of his own talents was considerably obscured;-and where is the man we can denominate happy, whilst the poison of envy rankles in his bosom?

Besides, although he was a graceful orator, was rapidly rising in the estimation of the people, and was distinguished by the anti-ministerialists as a person whose support would be a valuable acquisition to their cause, yet his character was reflected upon by the partizans of the opposite party, in a manner he was but ill able to endure. His father's bankruptcy-his own original poverty-his unexpected elevation— and, above all, his inhuman treatment of his amiable wife, were immediately made public; and, as it is the custom in similar cases, the most disagreeable circumstances were both altered and aggravated by the careful ingenuity of the detailers. Prejudice insidiously lurked to pervert, and malice was always in waiting to misrepresent, the most trivial occurrence, or the most unguarded expression. His reputation was exposed to the merciless cruelty of every hungry and malevolent scribbler; the city swarmed with pamphlets and pasquinades, loading him with innumerable epithets, as opprobrious as undeserved, and Denterville quickly acknowledged, with a sigh, the fatal mistake he had made in his calculations. "Where," he at length exclaimed, almost in the agony of despair," my God! where is happiness? Is it really in existence? or is it only a delusive phantom, generated from the brain of some dreaming philosopher? I have sedulously sought, but have never been able to obtain it."

(To be continued.)

ANTIQUARIAN BIBLIOGRAPHY,

OR, ACCOUNTS OF OLD AND SCARCE BOOKS.

ARTICLE II.

Micro-cosmographie: or a Peace of the World Discovered; in Essays and Characters. The fifth edition, much enlarged. 16. London, 1629.

THIS work, which has been often attributed to Edward Blount, was really written, according to Anthony Wood, by John Earle, afterwards Bishop of Salisbury, whose “younger years were adorned with oratory, poetry, and witty fancies; and his elder years with quaint preaching, and subtle disputes."

Honest Isaac Walton, speaking of Mr. IIooker, and king James, says, " Nor did his son, our late King Charles I. ever mention him but with the same reverence, enjoining his son our now gracious king, to be studious in Mr. Hooker's books. And our learned antiquary, Mr. Cambden, mentioning the death, the modesty and other virtues, of Mr. Hooker, and magnifying his books, wish't, that for the honour of this, and benefit of other nations, they were turn'd into the universal language. Which work, though undertaken by many, yet they have been weary, and forsaken it; but the reader may now expect it, having been long since begun, and lately finish't, by the happy pen of Dr. Earl, late Lord Bishop of Salisbury, of whom I may justly say, (and let it not offend him, because it is such a truth as ought not to be concealed from posterity, or those that now live, and yet know him not,) that since Mr. Hooker dyed, none have lived whom God hath blest with more innocent wisdom, more sanctified learning, or a more pious, peaceable, primitive temper; so that this excellent person seems to be only like himself, and our venerable Richard Hooker, and only fit to make the learned of all nations happy, in knowing what hath been too long confin'd to the language of our little island."

Such was the character of Bishop Earl, who having retired to Oxford during the plague, died there November 17th, 1665, and was buried in the chapel of Merton College, where he had been admitted as a scholar in 1620.

The date of the first edition of the "Micro-cosmographie," has not come to our knowledge. The fourth, fifth, and sixth editions, were dated in 1628, 1629, and 1630: and the author of "Censura Literaria," mentions a re-publication of it in 1731. From the characters, which are no less than seventy-seven in number, the following have ben selected. In a few instances they may, perhaps, bear particular allusion to manners, which are now obsolete; but, in general, they will be found to exhibit traits which cannot be mistaken, even at the present hour.

.

A GRAVE DIVINE,

"Is one that knows the burden of his calling, and hath studied to make his shoulders sufficient: for which he hath not beene hasty to launch foorth of his port the Universitie, but expected the ballast of learning, and the wind of opportunitie. Divinity is not the beginning, but the end of his studies, to which hee takes the ordinary stayte, and makes the arts his way. Hee counts it not prophanenesse to be polisht with humane reading, or to smooth his way by Aristotle to schooledivinity. He has sounded both religions, and anchor'd in the best, and is a protestant out of judgment, not faction, not because his country, but his reason, is on this side. The ministry is his choyce, not refuge, and yet the pulpit not his itch, but feare. His discourse there is substance, not all rhetorique, and he utters more things then words. His speech is not helpt with inforc❜d actions, but the manner acts itselfe. He shoots all his meditations at one butt; and beats vpon his text, not the cushion, making his hearers, not the pulpit, groane. In citing of Popish errors, he cuts them with arguments, not cudgels them with barren invectives: