ments of his mind were various; his acquirements great. There was no polite or manly accomplishment in which he did not excel. He was master" of the Latin, the French, the Italian, and the Spanish languages. He had a vigorous intellect, and a quick and ready wit. He was fond of literary fame, and studious of literary excellence: but he beheld it in others without envy. His own genius was of a moral and contemplative cast. His noble mind never stooped to any thing that would inflame passion, or solicit improper desire. It is his peculiar praise that not a single thought nor a single expression can be found in all his writings, to wound the nicest sense of modesty, or to degrade the dignity of poetry. To crown all, he had the highest reverence for religion, and the Scriptures were equally his consolation and delight: by these he strengthened those moral principles which governed all his actions, and confirmed in his heart that generous contempt of vice which is experienced by none but men of noble minds. Such was the Earl of Surrey.1

PRISONER IN WINDSOR, HE RECOUNTETH HIS PLEASURE THERE PASSED IN FORMER YEARS.

So cruel prison how could betide, alas!

As proud Windsor? where I in lust and joy,
With a King's son, my childish3 years did pass,
In greater feast than Priam's sons of Troy.
Where each sweet place returns a taste full sour.

The large green courts, where we were wont to hove,4

1 I cannot but insert here a portion of Dr. Nott's very discriminating and just comparison between Surrey and Wyatt:-"They were men whose minds may be said to have been cast in the same mould; for they differ only in those minuter shades of character which always must exist in human nature. In their love of virtue, and their instinctive hatred and contempt of vice; in their freedom from personal jealousy; in their thirst after knowledge and intellectual improvement; in nice observation of nature, promptitude to action, intrepidity, and fondness for romantic enterprise; in magnificence and liberality; in generous support of others, and high-spirited neglect of themselves; in constancy in friendship, and tender susceptibility of affections of a still warmer nature, and in every thing connected with sentiment and principle, they were one and the same; but when those qualities branch out into particulars, they will be found in some respects to differ.

"Wyatt had a deeper and more accurate penetration into the characters of men than Surrey had: bence arises the difference in their satires. Surrey, in his satire against the citizens of London, deals only in reproach; Wyatt, in his, abounds with irony, and those nice touches of ridicule which make us ashamed of our faults, and therefore often silently effect amendment. Surrey's observation of nature was minute; but he directed it towards the works of nature in general, and the movements of the passions, rather than to the foibles and the characters of men; hence it is that he excels in the description of rural objects, and is always tender and pathetic. In Wyatt's complaints, we hear a strain of manly grief which commands attention; and we listen to it with respect, for the sake of him that suffers. Surrey's distress is painted in such natural terms, that we make it our own, and recognise in his sorrows, emotions which we are conscious of having felt ourselves." Read, also, a fine article on Surrey and Wyatt in the 2d vol. of D'Israeli's "Amenities of Literature."

2 This poem was written about 1546, when Surrey was imprisoned at Windsor, not long after his return from Boulogne. See notice of his life. "It is a poem," says Dr. Nott, "of singular beauty, and may be ranked among the most perfect compositions in our language."

8 The words "child," "childish," "childhood," had in former times a much larger meaning than they now have. Both Chaucer and Spenser use them as applied to "early manhood." The phrase, "childish years," therefore, means to describe the time when the Duke of Richmond and himself were just entering on manhood. At the time of his residence in Windsor, 1534, Surrey was about eighteen and the Duke of Richmond about fifteen.

"To hove," to linger about a place in expectation or hope: same as "to hover."

With eyes cast up unto the Maiden's tower,'
And easy sighs, such as folk draw in love.
The stately seats, the ladies bright of hue,

The dances short, long tales of great delight;
With words, and looks, that tigers could but rue,2
Where each of us did plead the other's right.
The palme-play,3 where, despoiled for the game,
With dazed eyes oft we by gleams of love,
Have miss'd the ball, and got sight of our dame,

To baits her eyes, which kept the leads above.6
The gravel'd ground, with sleeves tied on the helm,
On foaming horse with swords and friendly hearts;
With chere, as though one should another whelm,
Where we have fought, and chased oft with darts.
The secret groves, which oft we made resound

Of pleasant plaint, and of our ladies' praise;
Recording soft what grace each one had found,
What hope of speed, what dread of long delays.
The wild forest, the clothed holts with green; 10
With reins avail'd," and swift-ybreathed horse,
With cry of hounds, and merry blasts between,

Where we did chase the fearful hart of force.
The void walls12 eke that harbor'd us each night:
Wherewith, alas! revive within my breast
The sweet accord, such sleeps as yet delight;

The pleasant dreams, the quiet bed of rest;
The secret thoughts, imparted with such trust;

The wanton talk,13 the divers change of play;
The friendship sworn, each promise kept so just,
Wherewith we past the winter nights away.
O place of bliss! renewer of my woes!

Give me account, where is my noble fere? 14
Whom in thy walls thou didst each night enclose;
To other lief; 15 but unto me most dear.

1 "Maiden's tower," that part of the castle where the ladies of the court had their apartments. 2 Such looks and entreaties as might have moved tigers to pity.

3 "Palme-play," a game played with a ball and hand, so called because the ball was hit with the palm: it was also played with the bat, and similar to tennis.

4 "Despoiled," stripped for the game.

5 "To bait," to allure, to attract.

6 "Which kept the leads above." The word "lead" is used by old writers for a flat roof covered with lead, and the plural "leads” is therefore probably used for the walks or galleries (covered with lead) around the upper stories of the building, where the ladies might sit and see the game played ir safety.

7 "The gravel'd ground," the space enclosed, made level with fine gravel.

8 It was a general practice among ancient knights to tie to their helmets a sleeve or glove, received fom their lady-love, which they wore not only in tilts and tournaments, but even in battle. "Chere" is used by all the old poets for the look, the expression of the countenance.

10" The clothed holts with green," the high hills clothed with verdure.

11 "Reins availed," mean slackened, so as to allow the horse to go at full speed.

12" Void walls," the walls of those chambers now desolate, which were wont each night to receive us.

13 Wanton talk," playful conversation. The word "wanton" was used by early writers as descriptive of the sportiveness and innocence of infancy. 14"Fere," companion.

15 Lief," spelled also leef and leve, is an adjective, meaning "dear." The person here alluded to by Surrey was probably his sister, the Lady Mary who was married to the Duke of Richmond.

THE FRAILTY AND HURTFULNESS OF BEAUTY.

Brittle beauty, that Nature made so frail,

Whereof the gift is small, and shorter is the season;
Flow ring to-day, to-morrow apt to fail;

Tickle' treasure, abhorred of reason:

Dangerous to deal with, vain, of none avail;

Costly in keeping, past, not worth two peason;2
Slipperer in sliding than is an eel's tail;

Hard to obtain, once gotten never geason;3
Jewel of jeopardy,4 that peril doth assail;
False and untrue, enticed oft to treason;
En'my to youth, that most men bewail;

Ah! bitter sweet, infecting as the poison,
Thou farest as the fruit that with the frost is taken;
To-day ready ripe, to-morrow all to shaken.

IN PRAISE OF HIS LADY-LOVE COMPARED WITH ALL OTHERS.5

Give place, ye lovers, here before

That spent your boasts and brags in vain;

My lady's beauty passeth more

The best of yours, I dare well say'n,

Than doth the sun the candle light,
Or brightest day the darkest night.

And thereto hath a troth as just
As had Penelope the fair;
For what she saith ye may it trust,
As it by writing sealed were;
And virtues hath she many mo'
Than I with pen have skill to show.

I could rehearse, if that I would,

The whole effect of Nature's plaint,
When she had lost the perfit mould,

The like to whom she could not paint:7
With wringing hands, how she did cry,
And what she said, I know it, I.

I know she swore with raging mind,
Her kingdom only set apart,

There was no loss by law of kind

That could have gone so near her heart;

And this was chiefly all her pain;
"She could not make the like again."

1 "Tickle," having no foundation, liable to sudden downfall.

2 "Peason," the plural of peas.

3 The word "geason," of which the derivation is unknown, is used by the old writers with different shades of meaning. Spenser employs it in the sense of "rare and uncommon." Here it seems to mean "something worth possessing :" for the sense of the passage is "once gotten not worth possessing."

4 "Jewel of jeopardy;" that is, a jewel which there is much danger of losing.

& Warton says that this ode "possesses almost the ease and gallantry of Waller; the versification

is correct, the language polished, and the modulation musical."

"Say n" for say, often thus used by the old writers.

7 To "paint" in Surrey's age meant to mould, to form or fashion as the sculptor does.

Sith Nature thus gave her the praise
To be the chiefest work she wrought;
In faith, methink! some better ways

On your behalf might well be sought,
Than to compare, as ye have done,
To match the candle with the sun.

DESCRIPTION OF SPRING.1

The soote2 season, that bud and bloom forth brings,
With green hath clad the hill, and eke the vale.
The nightingale with feathers new she sings;
The turtle to her make3 hath told her tale.
Summer is come, for every spray now springs;
The hart hath hung his old head on the pale,4
The buck in brake his winter coat he flings;
The fishes flete with new repaired scale;
The adder all her slough away she flings;
The swift swallow pursueth the flies smale;6
The busy bee her honey now she mings;7

Winter is worn that was the flowers' bale.
And thus I see among these pleasant things
Each care decays, and yet my sorrow springs.

OF THE HAPPY LIFE AND THE MEANS TO ATTAIN IT.

MARTIAL, the things that do attain
The happy life, be these, I find;
The riches left, not got with pain;
The fruitful ground, the quiet mind:
The equal friend, no grudge, no strife;
No charge of rule, nor governance;
Without disease, the healthful life;
The household of continuance :8

The mean diet, no delicate fare;

True wisdom join'd with simpleness;

The night discharged of all care,

Where wine the wit may not oppress:

The faithful wife, without debate;

Such sleeps as may beguile the night.
Content thee with thine own estate;

Ne wish for Death, ne fear his might.

1 "This sonnet is perhaps the most beautiful specimen of descriptive poetry in our language."Dr. Nott.

2 "Soote" was continued in use long after its substitute sweet was introduced.

8" Make," synonymous with mate.

4 The uneasiness experienced by this animal before he sheds his horns, leads him to rub his forehead against the paling of the park.

"Flete" is not fleet, to "pass rapidly by," but nearer to our "float," except that it means what swims through the water as well as on its surface.

6 This was not only the old way of spelling small, but also of pronouncing it, with the long a, as in hate. 7 Mingles.

8 This line probably means, a "household" or family that is not of recent establishment, and promises to be of duration.

HIGH LATIMER, bishop of Worcester, was born about the year 1475. Being an only son, and of quick parts, his father, a respectable yeoman, resolved to make him a scholar, and after due preparation he entered Cambridge. He was a zealous papist till the age of thirty, when he was converted by Thomas Bilney, and began with great zeal to propagate the opinions of the reformers. During the reign of Edward VI., (1547—1553,) he was pre-eminent among his zealous contemporaries in spreading the doctrines of the Reformation, and, in conjunction with Cranmer, was one of the principal instruments in effecting its establishment. But in the persecutions of Mary, he was singled out as one of the most desired victims of popish vengeance. He might have made his escape, and the opportunity which was given him seems to have been designed; but Latimer had the true spirit of a martyr, and determined to remain at his post of duty. As he passed through Smithfield on his way to London after his arrest, he exclaimed, "This place has long groaned for me." After a tedious imprisonment he persisted in refusing to subscribe to certain articles which were submitted to him, and he was led forth to his horrid death, October 16, 1555.

With a staff in his hand, a pair of spectacles hanging at his breast, and a Bible at his girdle, he walked to the place of execution, with his fellow martyr, Nicholas Ridley, bishop of London. On their way Ridley outwent Latimer some way before; but he, looking back, espied Latimer coming after, and said to him, "O be ye there?" "Yea," said Latimer, "have after as fast as I can follow." Ridley first entered the lists, dressed in his clerical habit; and soon after, Latimer, as usual, in his prison garb. Latimer now suffered the keeper to pull off his prison-garb, and then he appeared in a shroud. Being ready, he fervently recommended his soul to God, and then delivered himself to the executioner, saying to Ridley these prophetical words: "Be of good cheer, master Ridley, and play the man; we shall this day kindle such a torch in England as I trust in God shall never be extinguished." Two bags of gunpowder were fastened under his arms, the explosion of which instantaneously deprived him of life. At this moment a quantity of blood seemed to gush from his heart, as if all the blood in his body had been there collected. But poor Ridley was less fortunate. His extremities were consumed to the trunk before the fire affected his vitals, and he died in lingering anguish.2

A YEOMAN OF HENRY SEVENTH'S TIME.

My father was a yeoman, and had no lands of his own, only he had a farm of 31. or 41. by year at the uttermost, and hereupon he tilled so much as kept half a dozen men. He had walk for an

1 At first himself also a Romish priest; but he was afterwards burnt for heresy. 2" Nor were the labors and constancy of our reformers at all inferior to those of the early propa gators of the Gospel. Whoever has admired the faith and heroic sufferings of Ignatius or Polycarp, must look with no less satisfaction on those of Ridley, Latimer, Cranmer, and Hooper. It is impossible not to venerate their glowing piety, their profound humility, their patience under sufferings, their praises of God under distresses and privations of every kind, their prayers for their persecutors, their exemplary and triumphant death."-Lectures on Paganism and Christianity compared, by John Ireland, D. D.-a most admirable work.