Then thus gan Iove; "Right true it is that these
And all things else that under Heaven dwell
Are chaung'd of Time, who doth them all disseise
Of being but who is it (to me tell)
That Time himselfe doth move and still compell
To keepe his course? Is not that namely wee,
Which poure that vertue from our heavenly cell
That moves them all, and makes them changed be?
So them we gods doe rule, and in them also thee."

To whom thus Mutability; "The things,
Which we see not how they are mov'd and swayd,
Ye may attribute to yourselves as kings,
And say, they by your secret power are made:
But what we see not, who shall us perswade?
But were they so, as ye them faine to be,
Mov'd by your might, and ordered by your ayde,
Yet what if I can prove, that even yee

Yourselves are likewise chang'd, and subiect unto mee?

"And first, concerning her that is the first,
Even you, faire Cynthia; whom so much ye make
Ioves dearest darling, she was bred and nurst
On Cynthus hill, whence she her name did take;
Then is she mortall borne, howso ye crake:
Besides, her face and countenance every day
We changed see and sundry forms partake, [gray:
Now hornd, now round, now bright, now brown and
So that as changefull as the Moone men use to say.
"Next Mercury; who though he lesse appeare
To change his hew, and alwayes seeme as one;
Yet he his course doth alter every yeare,
And is of late far out of order gone :
So Venus eeke, that goodly paragone,
Though faire all night, yet is she darke all day:
And Phoebus self, who lightsome is alone,
Yet is he oft eclipsed by the way,

And fills the darkned world with terror and dismay.
"Now Mars, that valiant man, is changed most;
For he sometimes so far runs out of square,
That he his way doth seem quite to have lost,
And cleane without his usuall sphere to fare;
That even these star-gazers stonisht are

At sight thereof, and damne their lying bookes :
So likewise grim sir Saturne oft doth spare
His sterne aspect, and calme his crabbed lookes :
So many turning cranks these have, so many crookes.
"But you, Dan Iove, that only constant are,
And king of all the rest, as ye do clame,
Are you not subject eeke to this misfare?
Then let me aske you this withouten blame;
Where were ye borne? some say in Crete by name,
Others in Thebes, and others otherwhere;
But, wheresoever they comment the same,
They all consent that ye begotten were [peare.
And borne here in this world; ne other can ap-
"Then are ye mortall borne, and thrall to me;
Unlesse the kingdome of the sky yee make
Immortall and unchangeable to be:
Besides, that power and vertue, which ye spake,
That ye here worke, doth many changes take,
And your owne natures change: for each of you,
That vertue have or this or that to make,
Is checkt and changed from his nature trew,
By others opposition or obliquid view.
"Besides, the sundry motions of your spheares,
So sundry waies and fashions as clerkes faine,

Some in short space, and some in longer yeares;
What is the same but alteration plaine?
Onely the starrie skie doth still remaine :
Yet do the starres and signes therein still move,
And even itself is moved, as wizards saine :
But all that moveth doth mutation love:
Therefore both you and them to me I subiect prove.
"Then since within this wide great universe
Nothing doth firme and permanent appeare,
But all things tost and turned by transverse;
What then should let, but I aloft should reare
My trophee, and from all the triumph beare?
Now iudge then, O thou greatest goddesse trew,
According as thyselfe doest see and heare,
And unto me addoom that is my dew;
That is, the rule of all; all being rul'd by you."
So having ended, silence long ensewed;
Ne Nature to or fro spake for a space,
But with firme eyes affixt the ground still viewed.
Meane while all creatures, looking in her face,
Expecting th' end of this so doubtfull case,
Did hang in long suspence what would ensew,
To whether side should fall the soveraigne place:
At length she, looking up with chearefull view, [few:
The silence brake, and gave her doome in speeches
"I well consider all that ye have sayd;
And find that all things stedfastnes doe hate
And changed be; yet, being rightly wayd,
They are not changed from their first estate;
But by their change their being doe dilate;
And, turning to themselves at length againe,
Doe worke their owne perfection so by fate:
Then over them Change doth not rule and raigne;
But they raigne over Change, and doe their states
maintaine.

"Cease therefore, daughter, further to aspire,
And thee content thus to be rul'd by me:
For thy decay thou seekst by thy desire:
But time shall come that all shall changed bee,
And from thenceforth none no more change shall
So was the Titaness put downe and whist, [sce!"
And Iove confirm'd in his imperiall see.
Then was that whole assembly quite dismist,
And Natures selfe did vanish, whither no man wist.

CANTO VIII. UNPERFITE.

WHEN I bethinke me on that speech whyleare
Of Mutability, and well it way;

Me seemes, that though she all unworthy were
Of the Heavens' rule; yet, very sooth to say,
In all things else she bears the greatest sway:
Which makes me loath this state of life so tickle,
And love of things so vaine to cast away;
Whose flowring pride, so fading and so fickle,
Short Time shall soon cut down with his consuming
sickle!

Then gin I thinke on that which Nature sayd,
Of that same time when no more change shall be,
But stedfast rest of all things, firmely stayd
Upon the pillours of Eternity,

That is contrayr to Mutabilitie :

For all that moveth doth in change delight:
But thenceforth all shall rest eternally
With him that is the God of Sabaoth hight: [sight!
O! that great Sabaoth God, grant me that sabbaths

THUS he is designated in his epitaph; and in the title-page to his poems they are said to have been "written in his youth, and familiar exercise with Sir Philip Sydney;" so much and so deservedly did he pride himself upon the friendship of so excellent aman. He was murdered in a fit of passion, and perhaps of madness, by a servant who had served him long and faithfully, and thought himself ill requited. The murderer immediately killed himself. This was in the year 1628. His poems were published in 1633, and never reprinted. Twenty-two pages are wanting in all the copies that have yet been examined: they were undoubtedly cancelled on account of something which was deemed censurable in their contents.

His "Remains," being "Poems of Monarchy and Religion," were printed in 1670. The publisher states in his advertisement, that Lord Brooke bequeathed "them to his friend Mr. Michael Malet, an aged gentleman in whom he most confided, who intended, what the author purposed, to have had them printed altogether; but by copies of some parts of them which happened into other hands, some of them came first abroad; each of his works having had their fate, as they singly merit particular esteem, so to come into the world at several times. He to whom they were first delivered being dead,

the trust of these remaining pieces devolved on Sir J. M(alet,) who hath given me the licensed copy of them.” Mrs. Cooper, whose taste and judgement were far beyond those of her age, speaks thus of Lord Brooke: "Perhaps few men that dealt in poetry had more learning or real wisdom than this nobleman, and yet his stile is sometimes so dark and mysterious, that one would imagine he chose rather to conceal than illustrate his meaning. At other times, his wit breaks out again with an uncommon brightness, and shines, I'd almost said, without an equal. It is the same thing with his poetry, sometimes so harsh and uncouth, as if he had no ear for music; at others, so smooth and harmonious, as if he was master of all its powers.'

Lord Brooke is certainly the most difficult of all our poets: but no writer, whether in prose or verse, in this or any other country, appears to have reflected more deeply on momentous subjects; and his writings have an additional value, if (as may be believed) they represent the feelings and opinions of Sir Philip Sydney as well as his own.

A beautiful edition of his life of Sydney was printed at the Press Priory, 1816: one of the many services for which English literature is beholden to Sir Egerton Brydges.

TREATIE

OF HUMANE LEARNING.

THE mind of man is this world's true dimension;
And knowledge is the measure of the minde:
And as the minde, in her vaste comprehension,
Containes more worlds than all the world can finde:
So knowledge doth it selfe farre more extend,
Than all the minds of men can comprehend.

A climing height it is without a head,
Depth without bottome, way without an end,
A circle with no line inuironed;
Not comprehended, all it comprehends;

Worth infinite, yet satisfies no minde,
Till it that infinite of the God-head finde.

This knowledge is the same forbidden tree,
Which man lusts after to be made his Maker;
For knowledge is of powers eternity,
And perfect glory, the true image-taker;
So as what doth the infinite containe,
Must be as infinite as it againe.

No maruell then, if proud desires reflexion,
By gazing on this sunne, doe make vs blinde,
Nor if our lust, our centaure-like affection,
In stead of nature, fadome clouds, and winde,
So adding to originall defection,
As no man knowes his owne vnknowing minde:
And our Ægyptian darkenesse growes so grosse,
As we may easily in it, feele our losse.

For our defects in nature who sees not?
Wee enter first things present not conceiving,
Not knowing future, what is past forgot :
All other creatures instant power receiving,

To helpe themselues; man onely bringeth sense
To feele, and waile his natiue impotence.

Which sense, mans first instructor, while it showes,
To free him from deceipt, deceiues him most;
And from this false root that mistaking growes,
Which truth in humane knowledges hath lost:
So that by judging sense herein perfection,
Man must deny his natures imperfection.

Which to be false, euen sense itself doth proue,
Since cuery beast in it doth vs exceed;

Besides, these senses which we thus approue,
In vs as many diuerse likings breed,

As there be different tempers in complexions,
Degrees in healths, or ages imperfections.

Againe, change from without no lesse deceives,
Than doe our owne debilities within:

For th' obiect, which in grosse our flesh conceives,
After a sort, yet when light doth beginne
These to retaile, and subdiuide, or sleeues
Into more minutes; then growes sense so thinne,
As none can so refine the sense of man,
That two, or three agree in any can.

Yet these rack'd vp by wit excessiuely,
Make fancy thinke shee such gradations findes
Of heat, cold, colors such variety,

Of smels, and tasts, of tunes such diuers kindes,
As that braue Scythian never could descry,

Who found more sweetnesse in his horses naying, Than all the Phrygian, Dorian, Lydian playing.

Knowledges next organ is imagination;
A glasse, wherein the obiect of our sense
Ought to respect true height, or declination,
For vnderstandings cleares intelligence:
But this power also hath her variation,
Fixed in some, in some with difference;
In all, so shadowed with selfe-application

As makes her pictures still too foule, or faire;
Not like the life in lineament or ayre.

This power besides, alwayes cannot receiue
What sense reports, but what th' affections please
"To admit; and as those princes that doe leaue
Their state in trust to men corrupt with ease,
False in their faith, or but to faction friend,
The truth of things can scarcely comprehend."

So must th' imagination from the sense
Be misinformed, while our affections cast
False shapes, and formes on their intelligence,
And to keepe out true intromission thence,
Abstracts the imagination or distasts,
With images pre-occupately plac'd.

Hence weake, and few those dazled notions be,
Which our fraile vnderstanding doth retaine;
So as mans bankrupt nature is not free,
By any arts to raise it selfe againe;

Or to those notions which doe in vs liue
Confus'd, a well-fram'd art-like state to giue.

Nor in a right line can her eyes ascend,
To view the things that immateriall are;
"For as the sunne doth, while his beames descend,
Lighten the earth, but shaddow euery starre :”
So reason stooping to attend the sense,
Darkens the spirits cleare intelligence.

Besides, these faculties of apprehension;
Admit they were, as in the soules creation,
All perfect here, (which blessed large dimension
As none denies, so but by imagination
Onely, none knowes) yet in that comprehension,
Euen through those instruments wherby she
works,

Debility, misprision, imperfection lurkes.

As many, as there be within the braine
Distempers, frenzies, or indispositions;
Yea of our falne estate the fatall staine
Is such, as in our youth while compositions,
And spirits are strong, conception then is weake,
And faculties in yeeres of vnderstanding breake.

Againe, we see the best complexions vaine,
And in the worst more nimble subtilty;
From whence wit, a distemper of the braine,
The schooles conclude, and our capacity;
How much more sharpe, the more it apprehends
Still to distract, and lesse truth comprehends.

But all these naturall defects perchance
May be supplyed by sciences and arts;
Which wee thirst after, study, admire, aduance,
As if restore our fall, recure our smarts

They could, bring in perfection, burne our rods;
With Demades, to make us like our gods.

Indeed to teach they confident pretend, All generall, vniforme axioms scientificall

For as among physitians, what they call
Word-magike, neuer helpeth the disease,
Which drugges, and dyet ought to deale withall,
And by their reall working giue vs ease:

So these word-sellers haue no power to cure
The passions, which corrupted liues endure.

Yet not asham'd these verbalists still are,
From youth, till age, or study dimme their eyes,
To engage the grammar rules in ciuill warre,
For some small sentence which they patronize;
As if our end liu'd not in reformation,
But verbes, or nounes true sense, or declination.

Musike instructs me which be lyrike moodes;
Let her instruct me rather, how to show
No weeping voyce for losse of fortunes goods.
Geometrie giues measure to the earth below;
Rather let her instruct me how to measure
What is enough for need, what fit for pleasure.

Shee teacheth, how to lose nought in my bounds,
And I would learne with ioy to lose them all :
This artist showes which way to measure rounds,
But I would know how first mans minde did fall,
How great it was, how little now it is, [this?
And what that knowledge was which wrought vs

What thing a right line is, the learned know;
But how auailes that him, who in the right
Of life, and manners doth desire to grow?
What then are all these humane arts, and lights,
But seas of errors? In whose depths who sound,
Of truth finde onely shadowes, and no ground.

Then if our arts want power to make vs better, What foole will thinke they can vs wiser make,

Life is the wisdome, art is but the letter,
Or shell, which oft men for the kernell take;
In moodes, and figures moulding vp deceit,
To make each science rather hard, than great.

And as in grounds, which salt by nature yeeld
No care can make returne of other graine:
So who with bookes their nature ouer-build,
Lose that in practise, which in arts they gaine;
That of our schooles it may be truely said,
Which former times to Athens did vpbraid :

"That many came first wisemen to those schooles;
Then grew philosophers, or wisdome-mongers;
Next rhetoricians, and at last grew fooles."
Nay it great honour were to this booke-hunger,
If our schools dreams could make their scholars see
What imperfections in our natures be.

But these vaine idols of humanity,
As they infect our wits, so doe they staine,
Or binde our inclinations borne more free,
While the nice alchymie of this proud veine
Makes some grow blinde, by gazing on the skie,
Others, like whelpes, in wrangling elenchs die.
And in the best, where science multiplies,
Man multiplies with it his care of minde:
While in the worst, these swelling harmonies,
Like bellowes, fill vnquiet hearts with winde,
To blow the fame of malice, question, strife,
Both into publike states and priuate life.

Nor is it in the schooles alone where arts Transforme themselues to craft, knowledge to sophistrie,

Truth into rhetorike; since this wombe imparts,
Through all the practice of humanity,

Corrupt, sophisticall, chymicall alwayes,
Which snare the subiect and the king betrayes.

Though there most dangerous, where wit serveth

might,

To shake diuine foundations, and humane,
By painting vices, and by shadowing right,
Which tincture of probabile prophane,

Vnder false colour giuing truth such rates,
As power may rule in chiefe through all estates.

For which respects, learning hath found distaste
In gouernments, of great, and glorious fame;
In Lacedemon scorned, and disgrac'd,
As idle, vaine, effeminate, and lame:

Engins that did vn-man the mindes of men
From action, to seeke glorie in a den.

Yea Rome it selfe, while there in her remain'd
That antient, ingenuous austerity,
The Greeke professors from her wals restrain'd,
And with the Turke they still exiled be:

We finde in Gods law curious arts reprou'd,
Of mans inventions no one schoole approu'd.

Besides, by name this high philosophy
Is in the Gospell term'd a vaine deceipt ;
And caution giuen, by way of prophecy
Against it, as if in the depth, and height
Of spirit, the apostle clearely did foresee,
That in the end corrupt the schoole-men would
Gods true religion, in a heathen mould.

And not alone make flesh a deity,

But gods of all that fleshly sense brings forth :
Giue mortall nature immortality,

Yet thinke all but time present nothing worth:
An angel-pride, and in vs much more vaine,
Since what they could not, how should we attaine?

For if mans wisedomes, lawes, arts, legends, schooles,
Be built vpon the knowledge of the evill;
And if these trophies be the onely tooles,
Which doe maintaine the kingdome of the diuell;
If all these Babels had the curse of tongues,
So as confusion still to them belongs :

Then can these moulds neuer containe their Maker, Nor those nice formes, and different beings show, Which figure in his works truth, wisdome, nature, The onely obiect for the soule to know:

These arts, moulds, workes can but expresse the sinne,

Whence by mans follie, his fall did beginne.

Againe, if all mans fleshly organs rest,
Vnder that curse, as out of doubt they doe;
If skie, sea, earth, lye vnder it opprest,
As tainted with that tast of errors too;

In this mortalitie, this strange priuation,

What knowledge stands but sense of declination?

A science neuer scientificall,

A rhapsody of questions controuerted;

In which because men know no truth at all,
To euery purpose it may be conuerted:

Judge then what grounds this can to other give,
That waued euer in it selfe must liue?

Besides, the soule of man, prince of this earth,
That liuely image of God's truth, and might,
If it haue lost the blisse of heauenly birth,
And by transgression dimme that piercing light,
Which from their inward natures, gaue the name
To euery creature, and describ'd the same.

If this be stain'd in essence, as in shrine,
Though all were pure, whence she collects, diuides
Good, ill; false, true; things humane, or diuine;
Yet where the iudge is false, what truth abides?

False both the obiects, iudge, and method be;
What be those arts then of humanity?

But strange chimeras borne of mortall sense,
Opinions curious moulds, wherein she casts
Elenches, begot by false intelligence,
Betweene our reasons, and our senses tast:

Binding mans minde with earths imposture-line,
For euer looking vp to things diuine.

Whereby, euen as the truth in euery heart
Refines our fleshly humor, and affection;
That they may easlier serue the better part,
Know, and obey the wisedome to perfection:
These dreames embody and engrosse the minde,
To make the nobler serve the baser kind.

In lapse to God though thus the world remaines, Yet doth she with diuine eyes in chaos'd light, Striue, study, search through all her finite veines, To be, and know (without God) infinite:

To which end cloysters, cells, schooles, she erects, False moulds, that while they fashion, doe infect.

Whence all mans fleshly idols being built,
As humane wisedome, science, power, and arts,
Vpon the false foundation of his guilt;
Confusedly doe weaue within our hearts,

Their owne aduancement, state, and declination,
As things whose beings are but transmutation.

Subiect not onely therein vnto time,

And all obstructions of misgouernment;
But in themselves, when they are most sublime,
Like fleshly visions, neuer permanent:

"Rising to fall, falling to rise againe,

And never can, where they are knowne remaine."

But if they scape the violence of warre,
(That actiue instrument of barbarisme)
With their owne nicenesse they traduced are,
And like opinion, craftie moulds of schisme;
As founded vpon flatteries of sense,
Which must with truth keepe least intelligence.

But in darke successiue ignorance

Some times lye shadowed, and although not dead,
Yet sleeping, till the turnes of change, or chance
Doe (in their restlesse chariots garnished

Among the cloudy meteors made of earth)
Giue them again, to scourge the world, new birth.

Thus, till man end, his vanities goe round,
In credit here, and there discredited;
Striuing to binde, and neuer to be bound;
To gouerne God, and not bee governed:

Which is the cause his life is thus confused,
In his corruption, by these arts abused.

Here see we then the vainenesse, and defect
Of schooles, arts, and all else that man doth know,
Yet shall wee straight resolve, that by neglect
Of science, nature doth the richer grow?

That ignorance is the mother of deuotion,
Since schooles giue them that teach this such pro-
motion?

No, no; amongst the worst let her come in,
As nurse, and mother vnto euery lust;
Since who commit iniustice, often sinne,
Because they know not what to each is iust;
Intemperance doth oft our natures winne,
Because what's foule, vndecent, wee thinke best,
And by misprision so grow in the rest.

Man must not therefore rashly science scorne,
"But choose, and read with care; since learning is
A bunch of grapes sprung vp among the thornes,
Where, but by caution, none the harme can misse ;
Nor arts true riches read to vnderstand,
But shall, to please his taste, offend his hand.”

For as the world by time still more declines,
Both from the truth, and wisedome of creation:
So at the truth she more and more repines,
As making hast to her last declination.
Therefore if not to care, yet to refine
Her stupidnesse, as well as ostentation,

Let vs set straight that industrie againe,
Which else as foolish proves, as it is vaine.

Yet here, before we can direct mans choice, We must diuide Gods children from the rest;