prising uncouthness in conceit or expression, doth affect and amuse the fancy, stirring in it some wonder, and breeding some delight thereto. KNOWLEDGE A SOURCE OF DELIGHT. Wisdom of itself is delectable and satisfactory, as it implies a revelation of truth and a detection of error to us. 'Tis like light, pleasant to behold, casting a sprightly lustre, and diffusing a benign influence all about; presenting a goodly prospect of things to the eyes of our minds; displaying objects in their due shapes, postures, magnitudes, and colors; quickening our spirits with at comfortable warmth, and disposing our minds to a cheerful activity; dispelling the darkness of ignorance, scattering the mists of doubt; driving away the spectres of delusive fancy; mitigating the cold of sullen melancholy; discovering obstacles, securing progress, and making the passages of life clear, open, and pleasant. We are all naturally endowed with a strong appetite to know, to see, to pursue truth; and with a bashful abhorrency from being deceived and entangled in mistake. And as success in inquiry after truth affords matter of joy and triumph; so being conscious of error and miscarriage therein, is attended with shame and sorThese desires wisdom in the most perfect manner satisfies, not by entertaining us with dry, empty, fruitless theories upon mean and vulgar subjects; but by enriching our minds with excellent and useful knowledge, directed to the noblest objects, and serviceable to the highest ends.1 row. ANDREW MARVELL. 1620-1678. FEW men deserve more to be remembered with admiration than Andrew Marvell; not so much for his intellectual powers and mental attainments, great though they were, as for his high moral qualities. Indeed, a character in all respects, private, literary, and patriotic, so uncommonly excellent and noble, is rarely to be met with in the annals of history. He was born at Kingston-upon-Hull, in Yorkshire, in 1620, and at the age of fifteen entered Cambridge. After leaving the university he travelled many years in Europe. 1 Bacon, in enumerating the advantages of knowledge, says, 1. It relieves man's afflictions. 2. It promotes public virtue and order. 3. It promotes private virtues, by humanizing, humbling, nullifying vain admiration, improving. 4. It is power. 5. The pleasure of knowledge far exceedeth all other pleasures: for, shall the pleasures of the affections so exceed the senses, as much as the obtaining of desire or victory excecdeth a song or a dinner; and must not, of consequence, the pleasures of the intellect or understanding exceed the pleasures of the affections? We see in all other pleasures there is satiety, and after they be used, their verdure departeth; which showeth well they be but deceits of pleasure, and not pleasures; and that it was the novelty which pleased, and not the quality: and therefore we see that voluptuous men turn friars, and ambitious princes turn melancholy. But of knowledge there is no satiety, but satisfaction and appetite are perpetually interchangeabic, and therefore appeareth to be good in itself simply, without fallacy or accident. and on his return he became assistant Latin secretary to Milton, to whom he ever proved a most faithful friend, defending his reputation and shielding him from danger after the Restoration. In 1660 he was elected to parliament by the city of Hull, and was reelected as long as he lived. In his parliamentary duties he exhibited a zeal and faithfulness that were never surpassed; constantly corresponding with his constituents, and earnestly contending for their public rights and local interests. He always voted on the popular side, and so great was his influence, that the court determined, if possible, to bribe him to their interests. Accordingly they sent his old school-fellow, the lord-treasurer Danby, to him, with an order for £1000 on the treasury. He found him in a garret, writing to his constituents. After some conversation, as he was going out, he slipped the order into Marvell's hand, who, without looking at it, accompanied him to his coach. As he was about driving off, Marvell, having opened the paper, and seen what it was, called him back, and they returned to the garret. " My lord," said Marvell, pointing to a small shoulder-bone of mutton, "Andrew Marvell's dinner is provided for; there is your piece of paper; I want it not. I know the sort of kindness you intend, but I live here to serve my constituents; the ministry may seek men for their purpose; I am not one." How refreshing it is to the eye to look upon a character of such unsullied purity, especially if it be in the midst of political life, that perilous arena, from which so few return without some spots to disfigure their moral vestments.1 Marvell, from the stern integrity of his character, rendered himself more and more obnoxious to a corrupt court. His personal satire against the king himself, his tracts against popery and the ministry, and his desperate literary battles with Bishop Parker, "that venal apostate to bigotry," (as Campbell calls him,) repeatedly endangered his life. Among other anonymous letters sent to him, was the following: "If thou darest to print or publish any lie or libel against Dr. Parker, by the Eternal God I will cut thy throa.." But all this was to no purpose. He pursued the path of duty, unfaltering, and stood like a rock amid the foaming ocean. He, at last, died suddenly, on the 29th of July, 1678, while attending a public meeting at Hull: many supposed that he was poisoned. In his prose writings Marvell defended the principles of freedom with great vigor of eloquence and liveliness of humor. He mingled a playful exu berance of fancy and figure not unlike that of Burke, with a keenness of sar castic wit not surpassed even by Swift. The following spirited irony, taken from one of his answers to Parker, is on the "DOLEFUL EVILS" OF THE PRESS. For the press hath owed him a shame a long time, and is but now beginning to pay off the debt, the press, (that villanous engine,) invented about the same time with the Reformation, that hath done more mischief to the discipline of our church, than all the doctrine can make amends for. 'Twas a happy time when 1 Burke and Wilberforce in England, and John Quincy Adams in our own country, are eminent exceptions to the general rule. 2 Two well-written articles on Marvell may be found in the 10th and 11th vols. of the Retro spective Review. Read, also, an admirable life in Hartley Coleridge's "Lives of Distinguished Northern," all learning was in manuscripts, and some little officer, like ou author, did keep the keys of the library; when the clergy needed no more knowledge than to read the Liturgy; and the laity no more clerkship than to save them from hanging. But now, since printing came into the world, such is the mischief, that a man cannot write a book, but presently he is answered! Could the press at once be conjured to obey only an Imprimatur, our author might not disdain, perhaps, to be one of its most zealous patrons. There have been ways found out to banish ministers, to fine not only the people, but even the grounds and fields where they assembled in conventicles. But no art yet could prevent these seditious meetings of letters. Two or three brawny fellows in a corner, with mere ink and elbow-grease, do more harm than a hundred systematical divines, with their sweaty preaching. And, which is a strange thing, the very sponges, which one would think should rather deface and blot out the whole book, and were anciently used for that purpose, are now become the instruments to make things legible. Their ugly printing-letters, that look but like so many rotten teeth,-how oft have they been pulled out by the public tooth-drawers! And yet these rascally operators of the press have got a trick to fasten them again in a few minutes, that they grow as firm a set, and as biting and talkative as ever. O Printing! how hast thou disturbed the peace of mankind! That lead, when moulded into bullets, is not so mortal, as when founded into letters. There was a mistake, sure, in the story of Cadmus; and the serpent's teeth, which he sowed, were nothing else but the letters which he invented. The first essay that was made towards this art was in single characters upon iron, wherewith of old they stigmatized slaves and remarkable offenders; and it was of good use sometimes to brand a schismatic. But a bulky Dutchman diverted it quite from its first institution, and contrived those innumerable syntagmes of alphabets. One would have thought, in reason, that a Dutchman at least might have contented himself only with the wine-press. The following is a cutting PARODY ON THE SPEECHES OF CHARLES II. My lords and gentlemen, I told you, at our last meeting, the Winter was the fittest time for business, and truly I thought so, till my lord-treasurer assured me the Spring was the best season for salads and subsidies. I hope, therefore, that April will not prove so unnatural a month, as 1 How unspeakably important is it, considering the mighty influence of the press, that it should be, in all its departments, the guardian of morals-the handmaid of virtue: and yet, how many publisbers seem utterly reckless of the character of the books they publish, provided they "will sell:" and how few are the editors of our newspapers who do not appear to consider the triumphs of party de ramount to the triumphs of truth and justice. not to afford some kind showers on my parched exchequer, which gapes for want of them. Some of you, perhaps, will think it dangerous to make me too rich; but I do not fear it; for I promise you faithfully, whatever you give me I will always want; and although in other things my word may be thought a slender authority, yet in that, you may rely on me, I will never break it. My lords and gentlemen, I can bear my straits with patience; but my lord-treasurer does protest to me, that the revenue, as it now stands, will not serve him and me too. One of us must pinch for it, if you do not help me. I must speak freely to you; I am under bad circumstances. Here is my lord-treasurer can tell, that all the money designed for next Summer's guards must of necessity be applied to the next year's cradles and swaddling clothes. What shall we do for ships then? I hint this only to you, it being your business, not mine. I know, by experience, I can live without ships. I lived ten years abroad without, and never had my health better in my life; but how you will be without, I leave to yourselves to judge, and therefore hint this only by the bye: I do not insist upon it. There is another thing I must press more earnestly, and that is this: it seems a good part of my revenue will expire in two or three years, except you will be pleased to continue it. I have to say for it; pray, why did you give me so much as you have done, unless you resolve to give on as fast as I call for it? The nation hates you already for giving so much, and I will hate you too, if you do not give me more. So that, if you stick not to me, you must not have a friend in England. On the other hand, if you will give me the revenue I desire, I shall be able to do those things for your religion and liberty, that I have had long in my thoughts, but cannot effect them without a little more money to carry me through. Therefore look to't, and take notice, that if you do not make me rich enough to undo you, it shall lie at your doors. For my part, I wash my hands on it. If you desire more instances of my zeal, I have them for you. For example, I have converted my sons from popery, and I may say, without vanity, it was my own work. "Twould do one's heart good to hear how prettily George can read already in the psalter. They are all fine children, God bless 'em, and so like me in their understandings! I must now acquaint you, that, by my lord-treasurer's advice, I have made a considerable retrenchment upon my expenses in can dles and charcoal, and do not intend to stop, but will, with your help, look into the late embezzlements of my dripping-pans and kitchen-stuff. The friendship between Milton and Marvell is one of the most interesting subjects in the biography of two of the most noble characters of England. After the Restoration he contrived various ways to shield Milton from the rage of the reigning powers. As a member of parliament he made a considerable party for lini; and it is probable that his humor contrived the premature and mock funeral of Milton, which is reported, for a time, to have duped his enemies into the belief of his real death: and to this manly friendship, in conjunction with the influence of the poet Davenant, is the world probably in debted for Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained, subsequently completed and published. One of Marvell's sarcastic replies to Parker was attributed to Milton; to which Marvell replies by telling his antagonist that "he had not seen John Milton for two years before he composed his book;" and then he thus speaks of MILTON. John Milton was, and is, a man of as great learning and sharpness of wit as any man. It was his misfortune, living in a tumultuous time, to be tossed on the wrong side; and he wrote, flagrante bello, certain dangerous treatises. At his majesty's happy return, John Milton did partake, even as you did yourself, for all your buffing, of his regal clemency, and has ever since expiated himself in a retired silence. It was after that, I well remember it, that being one day at his house, I there first met you, and accidentally. What discourse you there used, he is too generous to remember. But he never having in the least provoked you, for you to insult thus over his old age, to traduce him who was born and hath lived much more ingenuously and liberally than yourself; to have done all this, and lay, at last, my simple book to his charge, without ever taking care to inform yourself better, which you had so easy opportunity to do; it is inhumanly and inhospitably done, and will, I hope, be a warning to all others, as it is to me, to avoid (I will not say such a Judas, but) a man that creeps into all companies, to jeer, trepan, and betray them. Marvell's poetical productions are few, but they display a fancy lively, tender, and elegant; "there is much in them that comes from the heart, warm, pure, and affectionate." THE EMIGRANTS. Where the remote Bermudas ride, And yet far kinder than our own! Where He the huge sea-monsters wracks That lift the deep upon their backs. He lands us on a grassy stage, Safe from the storms and prelates' rage. |