different countries will often be reciprocally explained.

Even the story of Phaeton is found in the New World. Sir Walter Raleigh was informed by an intelligent native of Guiana, who acted as his interpreter, that the natives worshipped the Sun, whom they imagined to ride in a chariot, drawn by tigers. They were accustomed to expose the bodies of their dead, after having first carefully washed them, in the belief that the tigers feed upon them when their day's labour is over. (Probably, as the body dried up, they thought the steeds of the Sun were nourished by it.) They had a tradition, that in former time their ancestors had neglected to expose the bodies, or to wash them carefully, upon which the tigers complained to the Sun that if they had not their provender, they could not perform their work. Upon this, the Sun sent one of his steeds among them, who set the long grass on fire, and caused such a conflagra

tion, that a hundred thousand of the inhabitants perished. Accordingly they were careful to avoid a repetition of this calamity, by providing for the tigers more regularly. Purchas had this account from Sir Walter himself. (P. 1018.)

Divested of the mythological, this story preserves the recollection of a severe time of heat and draught, such as had never occurred since, but had left deep traces of its occurrence upon the rites and customs of the people. As we can scarcely suppose the inhabitants of Guiana to have occupied that spot for thousands of years, perhaps it is no improbable conjecture that this is the same event as is recorded in Chinese history, in the reign of the Emperor Yao, and which coincides with the miracle of Joshua, or that of Hezekiah. In that case, this people must then have inhabited the east of Asia. ANSELM.

* Gent. Mag. vol. 11. N. S. p. 468.

LORD FALKLAND'S POEMS.
(Continued from Page 272.)

TO MY NOBLE FRIEND MR. SANDYS, UPON HIS JOB, ECCLESIASTES, AND THE LAMENTATIONS, CLEARLY, LEARNEDLY, AND ELOQUENTLY PARAPHRASED. WHO would inform his soul, or feast his sense,

And seeks or piety, or eloquence;

What might with knowledge virtue join'd inspire,
And animate the heat and light of fire-

He these in these by thee may find embraced,

Or as a poet, or a paraphrast.

Such raies of the Divinity are shed

Throughout these works, and ev'ry line o'erspread,
That by the streams the spring is clearly showne,

And the translation makes the author knowne.

Nor, he being knowne, remains his sence conceal'd;

But so by thy illustrious pen reveal'd,

Wee see not plainer that which gives us sight,

Than we see that, assisted by thy light.

All seemes transparent now, which seem'd perplext,

The inmost meaning of the darkest text.

So that the simplest may their souls assure,

What places meane, whose comments are obscure.
Thy pen next, having clear'd thy Maker's will,
Supplies our hearts to love, and to fulfill;
And moves such pietie, that her power layes
That envie, which thy eloquence doth raise.
Even I (no yielding matter) who till then
Am chief of sinners, and the worst of men;
(Though it bee hard a soules health to procure,
Unlesse the patient do assist the cure.)
Suffer a rape by vertue, whilst thy lines
Destroy my old, and build mee new designs.
Shee by a power, which conquers all controule,
Doth without my consente possesse my soule.

Those mists are scatter'd which thy passions bred,
And for that short time all my vice is dead.
These looser poets whose lascivious pen,
Ascribing crimes to God, taught them to men;
Who bend their most ingenious industrie,
To honor vice and guild impietie;

Whose labors have not only not employed

Their talents, but with them their souls destroyed;
Though of the much remov'd and distant time,
Whose lesse enlightened age takes from their crime,
Will no defense with all their arts devise,
When thou against them shall in judgment rise;
When thou, a servant, such whose like are rare,
Fill'd with a woefull and a watchfull care,
How to provide against thy Lord doe come,
With great advantage to the intrusted summe;
And thy large stock e'en to his wish employ,
Shalt be invited to thy Master's joy.
The wise, the good applaud, exult to see
The Apollinarii* surpassed by thee.

No doubt their works had found in every time
An equal glory, had they equalled thine.
Now they expect thy art should health assure,
To the sick world by a delicious cure;
Granting like thee no leech their hope deserves,
Who purgest not with rhewbarb, but preserves.
What numerous legions of infernal sprites
Thy splendor dazzles, and thy music frights;
For what to us is balme, to them is wounds,

Whom griefe strikes, feare distracts, and shame confounds,

To find at once their magic counter-charm'd,

Their arts discover'd, and their strength disarm'd;

To see thy writings tempt to virtue more,

Than they, by theirs assisted, could before

To vice or vanitie; to see delight

Become their foe, which was their satellite;
And that the chiefe confounder of their state,
Which had been long their most prevailing bait ;
To see their empire such a losse endure,
As the revolt even of the epicure.
These polite-pagan-Christians who do feare
Truth in her voice, God in his Word to heare;
(For such, alas! there are) doubting the while
To harm their phrase, and to corrupt their style,
Considering th' eloquence which flowes from thence,
Had no excuses, but now have no pretence.
These both to pens and minds direction give,
And teach to write, as well as teach to live.
These famous herbs, which did pretend to man
To give new youth; chymistes who brag they can
A flower to ashes turn'd, by their arts' power,
Returne these ashes back into a flower;
May gain beliefe, when now thy Job we see,
So soiled by some, so purified by thee.

Such was his change, when from his sordid fate
Hee reascended to his wonted state;

So see wee yearly a fresh spring restore
Those beauties, winter had deflower'd before;

So are wee taught, the resurrection must
Render us flesh and blood from dirt and dust.
To Job's dejected first and then rais'd minde,
Is Solomon in all his glorie joyn'd.

Socrates. Scolasticus.

The cause of Castalio's translation.

Lesse specious seem'd his person when hee shone,
In purple garments, on his golden throne.
His eloquence called from the farthest south,
To learne deep knowledge from his sacred mouth,
One weake and great-a woman and a queene:
Which (his conceptions in thy language seene)
So likely seemes, that this no wonder drawes,
When with the great effect we match the cause.
Nor had we wonder'd, had the storie told
His fame drew more than all his realmes could holde;
For no lesse multitudes do I expect

To heare (whilst on these lines their thoughts reflect)
To have in this clear glasse* their follies showne;
Nor will these fewer prove, who in their owne,

From these thy tears† shall learn to wash their crimes,
And owe salvation to thy heavenly rimes.

ANOTHER.

SUCH is the verse thou writ'st, that who reades thine,
Can never be content to suffer mine :

Such is the verse I write, that reading mine
I hardly can believe I have read thine;
And wonder that, this excellence once knowne,
I ne'er correct, nor yet conceale, mine owne.
Yet though I danger feare than censure lesse,
Nor apprehend a breach like to a presse,
Thy merits now the second time inflame,
To sacrifice the remnant of my shame.

Nor yet (as first) alone, but joyn'd with those
Who make the loftiest verse seem humblest prose.
Thus did our Master to his praise desire,

That babes should with philosophers conspire,
And infants their hosannas should unite

With the so famous Areopagite.

Perhaps my style, too, is for praise most fit,

Those show their judgment least, who shew their wit,
And are suspected, least their subtille aime
Be rather to attaine, than to give fame.
Perhaps whilst I my earth do interpose,
Betwixt thy sunne and them, I may aid those,
Who have but feeble eyes, and weaker sight,
To bear thy beams and to support thy light.
So thy eclipse, by neighbouring darkness made,
Were no injurious, but a usefull shade;
How e'er, I finish here, my muse her daies
Ends in expressing thy deserved praise,
Whose fate in this seems fortunately cast,
To have so good an action for her last.

And since there are who have been taught, that death
Inspireth prophecie, expelling breath,

I hope when these foretell what happy gains
Posteritie shall reape from these thy paines,
Nor yet from these alone, but how thy pen,
Earthlike, shall yearly give new gifts to men;
And thou fresh praise and wee fresh good receive,
(For hee who thus can write, can never leave,)
How time in them shall never force a breach,
But they shall always live and always teach,
That the sole likelihood which these present,
Will from the new-raised souls command assent.
And the so taught will not beleife refuse,
To the last accents of a dying muse.

* Ecclesiastes.

FALKLAND.

† Lamentations

AN EPITAPH UPON THE EXCELLENT COUNTESSE OF HUNTINGDON,
Prefixed to 66
a Sermon preached at Ashby de la Zouch, at the Funeral of Elizabeth,
Daughter and Coheir of Ferdinand Earl of Derby, and Wife to Henry Earl of
Derby, and Wife to Henry Earl of Huntingdon, the fifth Earl of that family. 9th
Feb. 1633."

THE chief perfections of both sexes joyn'd,
With neither's vice nor vanity combin'd.
Of this our age the wonder, love, and care,
The example of the following and dispaire.

Such beauty that from all hearts love must flow:
Such majesty-that none durst tell her so.

A wisdome of so large and potent sway,

Rome's Senate might have wisht, her Conclave may ;
Which did to earthly thoughts so seldome bow,
Alive she scarce was lesse in heaven than now.

So voyd of the least pride, to her alone,
These radiant excellencies seem'd unknown.
Such once there was: but let thy griefe appeare,
Reader, there is not: HUNTINGDON lies here.

By him who saies what he saw,

FALKLAND.

ON THE DEATH OF MY WORTHY FRIEND AND KINSMAN THE NOBLE, VIRTUOUS, AND LEARNED LORD HASTINGS.

From "Lacrymæ Musarum, Elegies on the Death of Henry Lord Hastings.

8vo. 1649."

FAREWEL, dear lord and friend, since thou hast chose

Rather the Phoenix's life, than death of crows :

Though Death hath ta'en thee, yet I'm glad thy fame
Must still remain in learned Hastings' name.
For thy great loss, my fortune I'll condole,
Whilst that Elizium enjoys thy soul.

FALKLAND.

We shall conclude with "An Elegy upon my much honoured friend the Lord Viscount Falkland, from "Characters and Elegies, by Francis Wortley, Knight and Baronet. 4to, 1646," p. 38.

HERE Beauclerk lies, Art's monopolist rather,

Who engrost more than that most painful father
Great Origen, who so outvied the rest,

Even all the glorious fathers of the East.
Besides he was a complete courtier too,
Yet could the soldier in his trade outdo.
His noble fancy was indeed so rich,
No pen of Europe flew a higher pitch;
Envy itself must needs confesse that hee
Was music in the camp, yet the court Mercury.
Faulkland too forward prest in his advance,
Hoping to beat them from their ordinance.

An ill-meant shot, both to the King and State,
Untimely put a period to his date.

God's powerful hand turns that great wheel, we know,
The lesser moves, so starres work here below.
How else should Twinnes so differ in their fate,
If starres man's fortune did necessitate?
When heaven does with its punishments begin,
It oft makes sinnes the punishment of sinne.
We were rebellious unto heaven, 'tis reason
We should be scourged with the whips of treason.
This is not donne by fortune, chance, or fate,
Our sinnes heaven's justice doth necessitate.

Vicecomes de Falkland vir Regi meritò charus, ex intimis ejus conciliis et fidelitate clarus, musarum militiæque patronus, vir pius et veritate plenus, en jacet hic intempestive sepultus. Qui apud prelium juxta Nuebury vulneribus transfixus in Regis causa (Rege teste) cecidit invictus. Anno Dom. 1644.

Should any of our Correspondents know of any other of Lord Falkland's poetical productions, we should feel obliged by the communication.

J. M.

REVIEW OF NEW PUBLICATIONS.