When fair Rebecca set me free, And Judith reigned in her stead. One month, three days, and half an hour, But so weak and small her wit, And so Susannah took her place. But when Isabella came, Armed with a resistless flame; By the artillery of her eye, Whilst she proudly marched about, She beat out Susan, by the bye. But in her place I then obeyed Gentle Henrietta then, And a third Mary next began; Then Joan, and Jane, and Audria, And then a pretty Thomasine, And then another Catherine, And then a long et cetera. But should I now to you relate The strength and riches of their state, The ribands, jewels, and the rings, If I should tell the politic arts The letters, embassies, and spies, Numberless, nameless mysteries! I more voluminous should grow, But I will briefer with them be, My present empress doth claim, Whom God grant long to reign! I add a few original stanzas, which show Cowley's characteristic merits and defects;-very few, since I must find room for some of those translations from Anacreon, which for grace, spirit, and delicacy will never be surpassed. OF SOLITUDE. Hail, old patrician trees, so great and good! Where the poetic birds rejoice, And for their quiet nests and plenteous food, Here let me careless and unthoughtful lying, With all their wanton boughs dispute, A silver stream shall roll his waters near, And see how prettily they smile, Ah! wretched and too solitary he, He'll feel the weight of it many a day, To help to bear it away. All that summer hours produce, Thee country hinds with gladness hear, Thee Phoebus loves and doth inspire; To thee, of all things upon earth, Happy insect! happy thou, Dost neither age nor winter know; But when thou'st drunk, and danced, and sung Thy fill, the flowery leaves among, (Voluptuous and wise withal, Epicurean animal!) Sated with thy summer feast, DRINKING. From Anacreon. The thirsty earth soaks up the rain, So filled that they o'erflow the cup. GOLD. From Anacreon.. A mighty pain to love it is, Virtue now nor noble blood, A curse on her, and on the man A curse on him who found the ore! A curse, all curses else above, On him who used it first in love! Gold does friendship separate; These the smallest harms of it! I cannot conclude without a word of detestation towards Sprat, who, Goth and Vandal that he was, destroyed Cowley's familiar letters. وو My acquaintance with "The Pleader's Guide commenced some five-and-forty years ago, after the following fashion. It had happened to me to make one of a large Christmas party in a large country mansion, the ladies whereof were assembled one morning dolefully enough in an elegant drawing-room. It was what sportsmen are pleased to call “a fine open day;" which, being interpreted according to the feminine version, means every variety of bad weather of which our climate is capable, excepting frost. Dirt, intolerable dirt, it always means, and rain pretty often. On the morning in question, it did not absolutely rain, it only "mizzled;" but the clouds hung over our heads in a leaden canopy, threatening a down pour: and all the signs of the earth testified to the foregone deluge that had already confined us to the house until our patience was worn to a thread. Heavy drops fell from the eaves, the trees in the park were dripping from every bough, the fallen leaves under the trees dank with moisture, the grass as wet as if it grew in a ford, the gravelwalks soft and plashy, the carriage-drives no better than mud. In short, it was the very dismalest weather that ever answered to the name of "a fine open day;" and our sportsmen accordingly had all sallied forth to enjoy it, some to join Sir John's hounds, some to a great coursing meeting at Streatley. As we stood at the windows bemoaning our imprisonment, we saw that the drizzle was fast settling into steady rain, and that there was no more chance of a ride on horseback, or a drive in an open carriage, than of the exhilarating walk which is the proper exercise of Christmas. All the pets about the park sympathised in our afflictions. The deer dropped off to their closest covert; the pied peacock, usually so stately and so dignified as he trailed his spotted train after him, when he came to the terrace to tap at the window for his dole of cake, actually sneaked away when suinmoned, in pure shame at his draggled tail; the swans looked wet through. The whole party seemed chilled and dismal, and I was secretly meditating a retreat to my mother's dressing-room, to enjoy in quiet a certain volume of "Causes Célèbres,” which I had abstracted from the library for my own private solace, when everybody was startled by a proposal of the only gentleman left at home; a young barrister, who had had sufficient courage to confess his indifference to field sports, and who now, observing on the ennui that seemed to have seized upon the party, offered to use his best efforts to enliven us by reading aloud-by reading a law-book. Fancy the exclamations at a medicine so singularly ill-adapted to the disease! For my own part, I was not so much astonished. I suspected that the young gentleman had got hold of another volume of my dearly beloved "Causes Célèbres," and was about to minister to our discontent by reading a French trial. But the rest of the party laughed and exclaimed, and were already so much aroused by the proposal, that the cure might be said to be more than half accomplished, before our learned teacher opened the pages of the "Pleader's Guide." I wish I could communicate to my extracts the zest that his selections derived from his admirable reading, and from the humorous manner in which he expounded the mystery of |