« PreviousContinue »
Each day his beads; but having left those laws, Adds to Christ's prayer, the Power and Glory,
clause ;) But when he sells or changes land, he impaires The writings, and (unwatch'd) leaves out, ses heires, As slily as any commenter goes by Hard words, or sense; or, in divinity, As controverters in vouch'd texts leave out Shrewd words, which might against them clear the
doubt. Where are these spread woods which cloath'd
heretofore Those bought lands? not built, not burnt within
door. Where the old landlords' troops, and almes? In halls Carthusian fasts, and fulsome Bacchanals Equally I hate. Means blest. In rich men's homes I bid kill some beasts, but no hecatombs; None starve, none surfeit so. But (oh) we allow Good works as good, but out of fashion now,
In this catalogue (to intimate his sentiments of reformation) he puts Erasmus and Reuchlin in the rank of Lully and Agrippa. I will only observe, that it was written in imitation of Rabelais's famous Catalogue of the Library of St. Victor, one of the finest passages in that extravagant Satire, which was the Manual of the Wits of this time. It was natural therefore to think, that the Catalogue of the Library of St. Victor would become, as it did, the subject of many imitations. The best of which are this of Dr. Donne's, and one of Sir Thomas Brown's. Dr. Donne afterwards took orders in the Church of England. We have a large volume of his sermons in the false taste of that time. But the book which made his fortune was his Pseudo-martyr, to prove that Papists ought to take
But having cast his cowl, and left those laws, Adds to Christ's prayer, the Power and Glory
clause. The lands are bought; but where are to be found Those ancient woods that shaded all the ground? We see no new-built palaces aspire, No kitchens emulate the vestal fire. Where are those troops of poor, that throng'd of
yore The good old landlord's hospitable door ? Well, I could wish that still in lordly domes 115 Some beasts were kill'd, though not whole heca
tombs; That both extremes were banish'd from their walls, Carthusian fasts, and fulsome Bacchanals ; And all mankind might that just mean observe, In which none e'er could surfeit, none could starve. These as good works, 'tis true, we all allow, But oh! these works are not in fashion now :
the oath of allegiance. In this book, though Hooker had then written his Ecclesiastical Policy, he has approved himself entirely ignorant both of the Origin and End of Civil Government. In the 168th
page, and elsewhere, he holds, that when men congregate to form the body of civil society, then it is, that the soul of society, SOVEREIGN POWER, is sent into it immediately from God, just as he sends the soul into the human embryo, when the two sexes propagate their kind. In the 91st page, and elsewhere, he maintains that the office of the civil sovereign extends to the care of souls. For this absurd and blasphemous trash, James I. made him Dean of St. Paul's; all the wit and sublimity of his genius having never enabled him to get bread throughout the better part of his life.
Like old rich wardrobes. But my words none
draws Within the vast reach of the huge statutes' jaws.
Ver. 121. These as good works, &c.] Dr. Donne says:
“ But (oh) we allow Good works as good, but out of fashion now." The popish doctrine of good works was one of those abuses in religion which the Church of England condemns in its articles. To this the Poet's words satirically allude. And having throughout this satire given several malignant strokes at the Reformation, which it was penal, and then very dangerous, to abuse, he had reason to bespeak the reader's candor, in the concluding lines :
“ But my words none draws
Like rich old wardrobes, things extremely rare, Extremely fine, but what no man will wear.
Thus much I've said, I trust, without offence; Let no court sycophant pervert my sense,
126 Nor sly informer watch these words to draw Within the reach of treason, or the law.
Ver. 125. Thus much I've said,] These three additional lines are redundant. And two strong epithets in the last line of Donne, dast and huge, were too emphatical to be omitted. Warton.
Well! I may now receive, and die. My sin
my sin of going) to think me As prone to all ill, and of good as forgetfull, as proud, lustfull, and as much in debt, As vain, as witless, and as false, as they Which dwell in court, for once going that way.
Therefore I suffer'd this; towards me did run A thing more strange than on Nile's slime the sun
Ver. 1. Well! I may now receive, &c.] More short, severe, and pointed than Pope's paraphrastical lines. Warton.
Ver. 7. The poet's hell,] He has here with great prudence corrected the licentious expression of his original. Warburton.
Ver. 10. Not the vain itch] Courtiers have the same pride in admiring, which Poets have in being admired. For vanity is often as much gratified in paying our court to our superiors, as in receiving it from our inferiors.