Notwithstanding this satire, we know he was sincerely attached to many of the nobility; and to the marriage of Lord Broghill, towards whom he was closely drawn by the ties of friendship, we owe the production of one of the most beautiful ballads in our language.

The preceding recital of juvenile errors has been demanded by impartiality from the pen of biography; but it more gladly records that an earnestness of purpose, alike honourable and patriotic, marked the employment of Suckling's latter years. His most valued associates were, now, men dignified by their virtue and distinguished by their abilities. The amiable and virtuous Lord Falkland, and Roger Boyle, Lord Broghill a man whose character, in both public and private life, approached the perfection of human nature"-were his most chosen companions; with whom, Stanley, the learned editor of Eschylus; Davenant and Jonson; Shirley, Hall, and Nabbes-writers of no contemptible merit-shared his conversation and enjoyed his friendship.

In this place may be mentioned a circumstance which is not only too singular in itself to pass unnoticed, but deserves recording as a triumph of Suckling's pen, which on the present occasion reclaimed a relative from the path of folly, and rendered him an useful and respectable member of society. Charles Suckling, the youngest son of the poet's uncle, Charles Suckling, Esq. of Woodton, had for some years indulged in a strange propensity of paying attentions to very young women, whom he deserted as they became marriageable; when he transferred

h Vide Memoirs of Roger Boyle, Earl of Orrery, by the Rev. Thomas Morrice, folio, page 49.-The pen of Suckling has twice eulogized this nobleman; and Lord Falkland has received an elegant compliment from him in "The Sessions of the Poets."

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his love to fresh objects, more juvenile, who in their turn were, in like manner, discarded.

To wean his relative from this weak and dishonourable conduct, he tried, at his uncle's request, the effects of raillery and satire — engines of very formidable calibre, of which Suckling well knew the use. In his letter on this subject, which he addressed to his cousin, he ridicules him as a “founder of a new sect of fools in the commonwealth of lovers" compares his conduct to that of the jackanapes in the fable, who let out his partridges one by one, for the pleasure of staring after what was irrevocable; and with admirable sense reminds him, that, while engaged in such senseless sport, the "fugaces anni” of life were fleeting at a rapid rate. "Sfoot, it is the story of the jackanapes and the partridges! thou starest after a beauty till it is lost to thee, and then lettest out another, and starest after that till it is gone too; never considering that it is here, as in the Thames, and that while it runs up in the middle, it runs down on the sides: while thou contemplatest the coming-in tide and flow of beauty, that it ebbs with thee, and that youth goes out at the same time."

It may be added, that the wit and raillery of Suckling's remarks were well directed, as they effectually cured the trifler of his fickleness in affairs of the heart. By a reputable marriage with an amiable lady, he became the father of four daughters, of whom, Lucy Suckling, the eldest, by her union with John Knyvet, was ancestress of the present Baron Berners. But while Suckling was basking in the sunny regions of court popularity-distinguished as the favourite of his monarch, by whom he was now knighted and just before his absolute devotion to literature and public affairs, a circumstance

occurred of considerable importance to his reputation and happiness.

He had been, for some time, a captive to the personal charms of the daughter of Sir Henry Willoughby; a lady of great expectations, but, unhappily, possessed of a temper and disposition revengeful and coarse. The relation of this entanglement, and its unfortunate termination, are so pertinently narrated in the Strafford State Papers, that it will be better to transcribe the words of the original writer, than mar them by using my own.

"I come now (says Mr. Garrard) to a rodomontado of such a nature, as is scarce credible. Sir John Sutcling, a young man, son to him that was comptroller; famous for nothing before, but that he was a great gamester; was a suitor to a daughter of Sir Henry Willoughby's, in Derbyshire, heir to a thousand a year.

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By some friend he had in court, he got the king to write for him to Sir Henry Willoughby, by which means he hoped to get her; for he thought he had interest enough in the affections of the young woman, so her father's consent could be got. He spoke somewhat boldly that way, which coming to her knowledge, she intreated a young gentleman, who also was her suitor, a brother of Sir Kenelm Digby's, to draw a paper in writing, which she dictated; and to get Sir John Sutclin's hand unto it. Therein he must disavow any interest he hath in her, by promise or otherways.

"If he would undertake this, she said, it was the readiest way he could use to express his affection to her. He willingly undertakes it; gets another young man, a Digby, into his company, and having each of them a

i Vol. i. p. 336, folio edition, in Mr. Garrard's letter to the Lord Deputy, dated November 10th, 1634.

man, goes out upon this adventure, intending to come to London, where he thought to find him but meeting Suckling on the way, he saluted him, and asked him whither he was going? He said, on the king's business, but would not tell him whither; though he pressed him, if it were not to Sir Henry Willoughby's? He then drew forth his paper, and read it to him, and pressed him to underwrite it: he would not, and with oaths confirms his denial. He told him he must force him to it: he answered, nothing could force him. Then he asked him, whether he had any such promise from her, as he gave out? In that, he said, he would not satisfy him. Mr. Digby then falls upon him with a cudgel, which being a yard long, he beat out upon him almost to a handful; he never offering to draw his sword: Sutling's two men standing by and looking on. Then in comes Phillip Willoughby with his man; a proper gentleman, a man held stout, and of a very fair reputation, who was assistant to this Sutlion in all his wooing business. Mr. Digby presseth him also to avow by word of mouth, that Sutlin hath no such interest in his kinswoman as he pretendeth. He denies to do it: whereupon he struck him three or four blows on the face with his fist. They then cried out that they were the king's prisoners, and that they should have some other time to speak with them. This report comes quickly up to London. Sir Kenelm Digby comes to Hampton Court before the king came up to his friends there he avows every particle of this business.

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Since, Sutclin and Willoughby are both in London; but they stir not. Also Sir Henry Willoughby and his daughter are come hither; Laurence Whitaker being sent by the king for them.

"One affront he did them more; for, finding them the

next day after he had so used them, in a great chamber at Sir Henry Willoughby's, he asked the young gentlewoman what she did with such baffled fellows in her company?

"Incredible things to be suffered by flesh and blood; but that England is the land of peace."

The same authority thus continues on this subject: "Sir Henry Willoughby is come up with his daughter; she is placed with the Lady Paget, the elder, in Westminster, her near kinswoman; and the whole business of discerning the young woman's affection, is left to the discovery of my lord of Holland, and the comptroller, Sir Henry Vane, who have been with her, and she will have none of Sutclin."

The grossness of this outrage, which must have caused considerable sensation at court, excited the indignation of the king, with whom Suckling was in high favour. By the royal command, Digby was compelled to make very abject submission; though the nature of his humiliation has not transpired. It is certain, however, that he speedily became disgusted with his conduct in the affair, and with her for whose sake he had thus degraded himself.

The carriage of Suckling, as a man of courage, has been questioned, in consequence of this affray; and, indeed, it seems to require some exculpation: a mystery hangs over the whole affair, which is perhaps somewhat exaggerated; for it is related that "Philip Willoughby, a proper gentleman, a man held stout, and of a very fair reputation," that is, a man of undoubted courage, received the fisticuffs of Digby, with a tameness equal to that of his friend, and like him offered no retaliation.

That Digby was desirous of provoking Suckling to draw - relying on his own superiority in the use of his