Tell me not, she herself at last was slain;
Did she not first seven years (a life-time) reign?
Seven royal years to' a public spirit will seem
More than the private life of a Methusalem.
"Tis godlike to be great; and, as they say,
A thousand years to God are but a day,
So to a man, when once a crown he wears,
The coronation-day's more than a thousand years."

He would have gone on, I perceived, in his blasphemies, but that by God's grace 1 became so bold as thus to interrupt him: "I understand now perfectly (which I guessed at long before) what kind of angel and protector you are; and, though your style in verse be very much mended since you were wont to deliver oracles, yet your doctrine is much worse than ever you had formerly (that I heard of) the face to publish; whether your long practice with mankind has increased and improved your malice, or whether you think us in this age to be grown so impudently wicked, that there needs no more art or disguises to draw us to your party."

66

My dominion (said he hastily, and with a dreadful furious look) is so great in this world, and I am so powerful a monarch of it, that I need not be ashamed that you should know me; and that you may see I know you too, I know you to be an obstinate and inveterate malignant; and for that reason I shall take you along with

9 This compliment was intended, not so much to the foregoing as to the following verses; of which the author had reason to be proud, but, as being delivered in his own person could not so properly make the panegyric.-HUrd.

me to the next garrison of ours; from whence you shall go to the Tower, and from thence to the court of justice, and from thence you know whither." I was almost in the very pounces of the great bird of prey:

When, lo, ere the last words were fully spoke,
From a fair cloud, which rather oped than broke,
A flash of light, rather than lightning, came,
So swift, and yet so gentle, was the flame.
Upon it rode (and, in his full career,
Seem'd to my eyes no sooner there than here)
The comeliest youth of all the' angelic race;
Lovely his shape, ineffable his face.

[fiend,
The frowns, with which he strook the trembling
All smiles of human beauty did transcend ;
His beams of locks fell part dishevelled down,
Part upwards curl'd, and form'd a natural crown,
Such as the British monarchs used to wear;
If gold might be compared with angels' hair.
His coat and flowing mantle were so bright,
They seem'd both made of woven silver light:
Across his breast an azure ruban went 1o,
At which a medal hung, that did present,

10 I observed, that the plan of this discourse was poetical; and the conclusion is according to rule

"Nec Deus intersit, nisi dignus vindice nodus

But, to take the full beauty of the contrivance, we are to reflect, that the tutelar genius of England is here introduced, not merely to unravel the intricacy of the scene, but to form a striking contrast to the foul fiend, who had usurped his place; and still further, to disgrace the usurper, by a portrait of the rightful heir to the British crown, presented to us under an angelic form, and in all the force and beauty of poetic colouring.-HURD.

In wondrous living figures, to the sight,

The mystic champion's, and old dragon's, fight;
And from his mantle's side there shone afar
A fix'd, and, I believe, a real star.

In his fair hand (what need was there of more?)
No arms, but the' English bloody cross, he bore,
Which when he towards the' affrighted tyrant bent,
And some few words pronounced (but what they
meant,

Or were, could not, alas! by me be known,
Only, I well perceived, Jesus was one),
He trembled, and he roar'd, and fled away,
Mad to quit thus his more than hoped-for prey.

Such rage inflames the wolf's wild heart and eyes
(Robbed, as he thinks unjustly, of his prize)
Whom unawares the shepherd spies, and draws
The bleating lamb from out his ravenous jaws :
The shepherd fain himself would he assail,
But fear above his hunger does prevail,

He knows his foe too strong, and must be gone; He grins, as he looks back, and howls, as he goes on.

ESSAYS,

IN VERSE AND PROSE'.

I.

OF LIBERTY.

THE liberty of a people consits in being governed by laws which they have made themselves, under whatsoever form it be of government: the liberty of a private man, in being master of his own time and actions, as far as may consist with the laws of God and of his countrey. Of this latter only we are here to discourse, and to inquire what estate of life does best seat us in the possession of it. This liberty of our own actions, is such a

In these discourses (as in every thing, indeed, which Mr. Cowley wrote in prose) we have a great deal of good sense, embellished by a lively, but very natural expression. The sentiments flow from the heart, and generally in a vein of pure and proper English.-What a forde must he have put on himself, when he complied with the false taste of his age, in his poetical, which he too modestly thought his best works? -But the pieces of poetry, inserted in these Essays, whether originals or translations, are, with all their seeming negligence of style and numbers, extremely elegant. The prevailing character of them is that of the author, a sensible reflecting melancholy. On occasion, however, this character gives way to another, not so natural to him, yet sustained with equal grace, that of an unforced gaiety; which breaks out, every where, in many delicate sallies of wit and humour, but is most conspicuous in his imitations of Horace.--HURD.

fundamental privilege of human nature, that God himself, notwithstanding all his infinite power and right over us, permits us to enjoy it, and that too after a forfeiture made by the rebellion of Adam. He takes so much care for the entire preservation of it to us, that he suffers neither his providence nor eternal decree to break or infringe it. Now for our time, the same God, to whom we are but tenants at will for the whole, requires but the seventh part to be paid to him, as a small quitrent, in acknowledgment of his title. It is man only that has the impudence to demand our whole time, though he never gave it, nor can restore it, nor is able to pay any considerable value for the least part of it. This birth-right of mankind above all other creatures, some are forced by hunger to sell, like Esau, for bread and broth: but the greatest part of men make such a bargain for the delivery up of themselves, as Thamar did with Judah; instead of a kid, the necessary provisions for human life, they are contented to do it for rings and bracelets. The great dealers in this world may be divided into the ambitious, the covetous, and the voluptuous; and that all these men sell themselves to be slaves, though to the vulgar it may seem a Stoical paradox, will appear to the wise so plain and obvious, that they will scarce think it deserves the labour of argumentation.

Let us first consider the ambitious; and those, both in their progress to greatness, and after the attaining of it. There is nothing truer than what Sallust says, 2" Dominationis in alios servitium 2 Fragm. ed. Maittaire, p. 116.