which will answer our purposes better than those which we ourselves have made?

I am not arguing against abstracts of formal documents, mere lawyer's forms, although it is occasionally very difficult to make even them,-the question now relates to letters, and documents of that class. Nor am I contending against calendars, as assistances in referring to the originals; but against calendars as a substitute for access to the originals, and an excuse for restraints.

I agree with your correspondent CHARTULARIUS that it is a bad thing for documents to be published incorrectly, all error is bad; but I should scarcely have thought it necessary at this time of day, or in this country, to contend that freedom, and not mono

poly, is the way by which error ought to be corrected. Break down the barriers by which inquiry is impeded; open the windows which illiberality would keep closed; let in the light, and that will remedy the evils complained of. If error is to justify restriction, then you must restrain not merely the State Paper Office, but the British Museum; nay, even printed books, for I have known gross errors committed in transcribing from them. There is no medium in politics, religion, literature, or in anything else, between a censorship which puts truth at the mercy of power, and freedom, which, with all its abuses and inconveniences, is indeed what old Barbour long ago pronounced it to be, noble thing."

Captious conceipts,

Good reader, doe dismis, And friendly weigh

The willing mind of his,

Which more doth write

For pleasure than for praise, Whose worthlesse workes Are simplie pend alwaies.

THIS volume is of the greatest rarity, as may be known by the following

MS. note of Mr. Heber :

"Only one copy of this book appears to exist. It had formerly belonged to T. Martin, the Suffolk antiquary. At Major Pearsons sale it was purchased by Mr. Steevens for 10s. 6d., and at Mr. Steevens's, by Mr. Park, for 21, 10s. With Mr. Park's poetical library, it passed into the hands of Mr. T. Hill of Queenhithe, and thence to the shop of Messrs. Longman, Paternoster-row, who marked it in their Bibliotheca Anglo-Poetica, 1815, at 521. 108. and sold it to Mr. Midgeley of Rochdale in Lancashire; at whose auction, by Saunders in Fleet-street, Feb. 1818, it was sold for 231. 2s., and placed in the library of Sir Mark Sykes, at 301., on whose death it was again submitted to the hammer in 1824, and knocked down GENT. MAG. VOL. XIII.

Sonnets, Mr. G. Steevens excused himto me at 91. This volume and Googe's self from lending T. P. [Park]. See fol. 63 Mr. Poley of Badley' [in Suffolk]. From some circumstances in this volume, he seems to have been a Suffolk man."

On this volume, see also Longman's Bibliotheca Anglo-Poetica; Ritson's Biblioth. Poetica, p. 400; Herbert's Ames, p. 1186. Mr. Heber's conjecture that James Yates was a Suffolk man, must be founded on a poem, E. 2, written to Master P. W. when he was at Ipswich. Joined to the poem mentioned above, is "The Chariot of Chastitie, drawne to Publication by dutiful Desire, Goodwill, and Commendation. Also a Dialogue betweene Diana and Venus, with ditties devised at sundrie collections for recreation sake, set down in such verse as en

3 D

The

sueth, by James Yatis.* 1562." volume is inscribed to Mistress Elizabeth Reynouls, wife unto his approved good master and friend, Master Henry Reynouls, Esq.

Verses unto his Muse.

Muse not, my minde, of worldly things,
Thou see'st what care to some it brings;
The merriest minde from folly free,
Sometimes conceives discourtesie;
Which is the occasion oft of ire,
Through frowarde wille which kindles
fire.

But if thou wilt live well at ease,
And worldly wights seeke for to please,
Then frame thy nature to this plight,
In each respect to deale upright.

Thou see'st, my Muse, how fancie redes,
And what desire in some it breedes;
Thou see'st that those which have been well,
Have not the skill thereof to tell;
But think to get a better place,
Whereas they work their own disgrace:
For why? from Heaven they change to
Hell,

In deep despite for time they dwell;
So is our fickle fancie fraught-
Whom can we blame but tickle thought?

The sillie bird that dreades no ill,
But singes with joyful notes ful shrill,
Is by the craft of birder's arte
Ketcht, to her paine and carefull smart ;
For why? the lime her winges doth charge
Who erst to fore did fly at large;
And then she resteth as we see,
To try the birder's courtesie:
Even so, if some do thee entrap,
Thou must needes stay to trye thy hap.
Wherefore, who well can them content,
Have seldom cause for to repent;
For if thou well doe feele thyselfe,
Chaunge not that life for worldly pelfe:
You know the ease of quiet minde
Is happiest gifte by Jove assign'd.
Admit that riches do encrease,
And then the gayest life surcease;
What is't the better for the gilt,
When fretting fumes sweet rest have spilt?
To have both welth and quyet vaine-
Oh! happie wights that it attaine;
Oh golden dayes of quyet state,
When fortune gives no crabbed mate.
And, on the other side, I say,
Oh! cursed life that every day
Doth not escape from furious fittes,

The merry meane I hould for best,
Oh! happie wights, that it invest.
The labouring man, with breade and drinke
Lives merrier in minde, I thinke,
Than some which feede on daintier fare,
Whose corpes sufficed, yet have great care;
For sure that meate digests not well
Where merrie measure doth not dwell.
Oh! life most happie, still I say,
That lives at rest, and hath to pay;
And lyeth down, with quiet minde,
The rest to take that Jove assign'd.

Verses which signifie the ease
How meddling least doth not displease.
The busie heads, whose harebrain'd wits
With causelesse cause will have to deale,
Doe often shew but foolish fittes,

For nothing they can close conceale.
All you that meane to live at ease,
To meddle least doth not displease.
The Royster, and the quarrelling foole

That standes upon his garde of strength,
May meet with one that shall him coole,
And overcome his pride at length.
All you that meane to live at ease,
To meddle least doth not displease.
The Pratler, he cannot abstaine,

Nor yet keepe in his tongue from prate ; Oh! blame him not;-for 'tis his vaine : He takes a glory in that rate. All you that meane to live at ease, To meddle least doth not displease. 'Tis vaine to put our hand in fire,

Or in a fray to take a parte,
When as no cause doth so require,

Perchance he comes unto his smarte.
All you that meane to live at ease,
To meddle least doth not displease.
The proverb often thus doth shew,

Which warnest us in this respect;
Heere much, but little seeke to know
That any tumult may erect.
All you that meane to live at ease,
To meddle least doth not displease.
By busie pates strife and debate,
Rancour and rage be rear'd upright;
Envie, disdaine, and cruell hate

Are put in use by such a wight.
All you that meane to live at ease,
To meddle least doth not displease.
So may you well be bold of this,
The love of each manne thou shalt
winne ;

And have likewise eternall blisse,
For quiet state you lived in.

wittes;

To meddle least doth not displease.

Of meddling least, I thus define; The happie state in it doth rest, And like a jewell it doth shine

Among all jewells of the best. All you that then will live at ease, To meddle least doth not displease.

Yates his Song, written presently after his comming from London.

Why should I laugh without a cause? Or why should I so long time pause? My hateful happes for to declare, Sith cruell causes breedes my care, Devilish disdaine within my brest, Molesteth me with greate unrest. Agree I must to froward fate, And be content with this my state, Hoping in end all may be well, For proverbs old thus doth us tell. The rowling stone doth get no mosse, The raunger much doth nought but tosse In places fit for madding mindes, 'Till youthful yeares the folly findes ; But when that age doth call them backe, And youthful tricks do finde the lacke, Then do we thinke our youth ill spent, Which in our age we do repent ; But such is youth and youthfull toyes, To follow fickle, foolish joyes. How fortune turns, we neede not muse, For daily we may see in use, How some are in great favour cast, Yet in the end are out at last; And small account of them is made, Such is the guyse of fortunes trade, To place aloft and to bring low Even as her favour seems to grow, For who so markes shall see indeed, Fortune to faile when most they neede. Content is best to please the minde, By seeking, yet some men do finde ; By crouching low to hy estates Is good for to avoyd their hates. But he that hath so stubborn heart As wilfull will will not convert, He is not wise in my conceite, So much to stand in foolish sleight; The bowing reede withstands the blast, When stubborne oake is overcast. If in this worlde we mean to live, Such courteous speeach then must we give As we may win the hearts of those Which otherwise would be our foes; For smyling lookes do not availe When friendship favour seems to quaile; The want whereof doth us molest, With pinching pangs in private brest, Yet from our hearts let us require, We may have patience in our ire.

To pleasure such as we are bound, That unto them our heartes be sound,

And that no fayned speach be heard,
Least all our doings so be mar'd,
For smiling lookes and hollow hearts
Be often-times the cause of smarts;
But we must needs commend of right
All such as in the truth delight,
And say from heart, and so consent,
It is a heaven to be content.

An Epitaph upon the Death of Master
Poolie's Wife of Badly.

You Dames, leave off your bootlesse teares,
Whose vaine complaints can do no good;
Since cruel death hath forced your feares,
And stroken such a noble blood;
And, though you waile and weepe your fill,
Yet you cannot revive your will.
For if high Jove doth so permit

[dart,

That dreadful death shall strike with It is in vaine to mourne for it,

Sith he can joy, and he can smart ; He can graunt life, he can graunt death, He can bereave each prince of breath. This worthy matron, wrapt in clay,

Was wife to Master Pooly she: Whose noble race* for to display

My witte unable is, I see. Alas! my penne is nothing ryfe For to declare her virtuous life. Wherefore 'twere vaine to pen her praise,

Sith it abrode in worlde is knowne. Alas! that death did end her dayes,

And hath her life so overthrowne; Wherefore to mourne it is in vaine, Since you no more her can attaine.

Given unto Mistresse F. W. when shee went to waite.

To waite on noble dames

Much attendance it doth crave,
And searcheth out in each respect
The service that you have.
Attendance you must daunce
In chamber all the day;
And not to walke abrode in fields,
If truth Report doth saye,
Except my lady go,

Then you must waite on her;
Or els to keep her chamber still,
And not abrode to stirre.
And when she playes at cardes

Downe kneele you must on knees;
And so to sit there all the time,
Until she winne, or leese.
Oh! God! this is no life

Of pleasure, as I thinke,

She was sister unto my Ladie Wentworth.

To waite in chamber all the day, Till sleepe doth make you winke.

But paradventure you

Do thinke preferment there Will hoyse you up to be alofte, And set you voyde of care.

I do not, I, say nay,

For it is like to be;
And I as glad as any one
That happie day to see.
Thus, gentle mistresse mine,

The gods keepe you in rest;
And graunt such pleasures to abound
As sorrowes not molest.

A Thankesgeving unto God for the happie, peaceable, and most gloriouse reigne of our singular Sovereigne and Ladie Queene Elizabeth.

With humble heartes and faithfull mindes
Assemble all and pray;

And sing high laude unto our God,
Whose goodnesse to display

Surmounts the sense of mortall heades

To glorifie the same;

With such desertes as rightly 'longs
Unto his blessed name.

Oh, England! joy, thou little isle,
In prayers do not cease;
Both day and night give laude to God
For this thy happy peace
Injoyed under peerless Prince
Elizabeth thy Queene,
Whose quiet reigne declares that God

His blessinge would have seene
Upon her grace and eke her realme,

The which, O Lord, preserve With seemely cepter in her throne

The Gospell to conserve.

From forraine foe and faithlesse friendes,
From all that mischief workes,
Lord, breake the broode of envies wyles
In secrecie that loorkes.
Lay open to her Princely viewe
All they that faithlesse be
In thought against her Majestie;
Lord, let her highnesse see.
We must confesse unfainedly

We have observed thine ire;

We daily, Lord, be prompt to sinne,
Small goodnesse we require.
Yet have compassion on our land,
And do the same defend

From those which, under shew of friendes,
Their malice do pretend

Unto our Queene, which raigned hath
This three and twentie years;

In peaceable tranquillitie,

As well to us appears.

God graunt her Highness Nestor's yeares Over this realme to raigne ;

Amen, Amen for Jesus sake,

Amen!-we do not faine."

God preserve with joyful Life our gracious Queen Elizabeth.

A Glasse for amorouse Maydens to
looke in, friendly framed as a Caveat
for a light believing Mayden; which
she
may take as a requisite rebuke, if
she modestly meditate the matter.
Fy, maiden, fy, that Cupid's flames
Within you so abounde,

To truste the tatling tales of some,
Whose wordes prove oft unsounde!
Should every knave entice you so,
To talk with you at will;
What, be your wittes so simple now,
And of such little skill,

As you can not discerne in minde
Who leads you on the bit?
Fy, fy, for shame! Now leave it off;
It is a thing unfit.

I promise you, it grieves me sore,
Because I am your friend,

That every Jacke should talke with you,
And it is to no end

But for to feele and grope your minde;
And then they laugh in sleeve,
And say, it is a gentle maide,

Now she will them believe.

Thus do the knaves so cogge and foyst,

And count you as a foole;

And say, your wittes they be so base,
As you may go to schoole.

Wherefore, love no such fleering Jackes,
And give to them no eare;
And think this lesson to be true

Which I have written here.

For well in time you shall it finde
To breede in your unrest;
Wherefore to leave it off at first,
I think it were the best.
Give not your mind to be entic'd
To heare each tatling tale;

Where constant heades do not abide,
What hope doth then availe?

You will not warned be, I see,

Until you have a nippe ;

You knowe the horse which draws in cart Is ever nye the whippe.

But when too late you do repent,

Repentance will not serve;
Wherefore foresee-in time I warne
From follie fond to swerve.

Take heed, I say, in time therefore,
So shall your state be blest,
And I shall cease to write so much
My pen shall take its rest.

On the Relation between the Holy Scriptures and some parts of Geological Science. By J. Pye Smith, D.D.

DR. SMITH, if not a practical geologist, is well conversant with the best works that have been written on the subject; and from a careful consideration of facts and reasonings has formed his conclusions. The object of his work is given in his own words:

6

"A vague idea has obtained circulation, that certain geological doctrines are at variance with the Holy Scriptures. This notion works with pernicious effect. The semblance of discrepancy is indeed undeniable; but I profess my conviction that it is nothing but a semblance, and that like many other difficulties on all important subjects, which have tired the intellect of man, it vanishes before careful and sincere examination. Suppose,' says Professor Sedgwick, that there are some religious difficulties in the conclusions of Geology; how then are we to solve them? not by shutting our eyes to facts, or denying the evidence of our senses, but by patient investigation carried on in the sincere love of truth, and by learning to reject every consequence not warranted by direct physical evidence. Pursued in this spirit, Geology can neither lead to any false conclusions, nor offend against any religious truth.''

These premises being stated, as a just foundation for the advancement of scientific argument, we first find Mr. Babbage stating:

"The mass of evidence which combines to prove the great antiquity of the Earth itself, is so irresistible and so unshaken by any opposing fact, that none but those who are alike incapable of observing the facts, and appreciating the reasoning, can for a moment conceive the present state of its surface to have been the result of only six thousand years of existence. Those observers and philosophers who have spent their lives in the study of Geology have arrived at the conclusion that there exists irresistible evidence that the date of the Earth's first formation is far anterior to the epoch, supposed to be assigned by it to Moses; and it is now admitted by all competent persons, that the

formation even of those strata which are

in

nearest the surface, must have occupied vast periods, probably millions of years, arriving at their present state."

Mr. Maclaren, in his Geology of Fife and the Lothians, (p. 37) estimates a single period of volcanic quiescence over the site of the basaltic hill at Edinburgh, at five hundred thousand years! "Let it be observed," says our author," that these are not random guesses, but founded upon knowledge and consideration." Another point connected with Scriptural tradition and Geological inquiry, is that of the Deluge. Dr. Fleming says—

"There is reason to believe from the writings of Moses, that the Ark had not drifted far from the spot where it was first lifted up, and that it grounded at no great distance from the same spot!"

Again,

"The simple narrative of Moses permits me to believe, that the waters rose upon the earth by degrees that means ; were employed by the Author of the calamity to preserve pairs of the land animals; that the flood exhibited no violent impetuosity, displacing neither the soil nor the vegetable tribes which it supported, nor rendering the ground unfit for the cultivation of the vine. With this conviction in my mind, I am not prepared to witness in nature any remaining marks of the catastrophe; and I find my respect for the authority of revelation heightened, when I see on the present surface no memorials of the event."

Later researches, however, have been directed to the subject of drift or diluvium, with endeavours to distinguish the respective ages of it in different countries and districts. Professor Hitchcock says, (Geology of Mach. p. 148) :

"By an examination of all the diluvium which had been previously accumulated by various agencies, and which had been modified by a powerful deluge sweeping from north and north-west, over every part of the State, not excepting its highest mountains; and since that deluge none but alluvial agencies have been operating to