From thence read on the story of his life, His humble carriage, his unfaulty ways, His cankered foes, his fights, his toil, his strife, a rack or crib. His pains, his poverty, his sharp assays, temptations or trials. Through which he passed his miserable days, Offending none, and doing good to all, Yet being maliced both by great and small. And look at last, how of most wretched wights He was reviled, disgraced, and foul abused; How scourged, how crowned, how buffeted, how bruised; And, lastly, how 'twixt robbers crucified, With bitter wounds through hands, through feet, and side! With sense whereof whilst so thy softened spirit Is inly touched, and humbled with meek zeal Through meditation of his endless merit, Lift up thy mind to th' author of thy weal, And to his sovereign mercy do appeal ; Learn him to love that loved thee so dear, And in thy breast his blessed image bear. With all thy heart, with all thy soul and mind, Thou must him love, and his behests embrace ; And give thyself unto him full and free, * commands. 1 Simple-hearted, therefore blessed; like the German selig. Thenceforth all world's desire will in thee die, Then shalt thy ravished soul inspiréd be With heavenly thoughts far above human skill, Before thy face, that all thy spirits shall fill Kindled through sight of those fair things above. reason. There is a companion to the poem of which these verses are a portion, called An Hymne of Heavenly Beautie, filled like this, and like two others on Beauty and Love, with Platonic forms both of thought and expression; but I have preferred quoting a longer part of the former to giving portions of both. My reader will recognize in the extract a fuller force of intellect brought to bear on duty; although it would be unwise to take a mind like Spenser's for a type of more than the highest class of the age. Doubtless the division in the country with regard to many of the Church's doctrines had its part in bringing out and strengthening this tendency to reasoning which is so essential to progress. Where religion itself is not the most important thing with the individual, all reasoning upon it must indeed degenerate into strifes of words, vermiculate questions, as Lord Bacon calls them—such, namely, as like the hoarded manna reveal the character of the owner by breeding SIR WALTER RALEIGH'S PILGRIMAGE. 71 of worms-yet on no questions may the light of the candle of the Lord, that is, the human understanding, be cast with greater hope of discovery than on those of religion, those, namely, that bear upon man's relation to God and to his fellow. The most partial illumination of this region, the very cause of whose mystery is the height and depth of its truth, is of more awful value to the human being than perfect knowledge, if such were possible, concerning everything else in the universe; while, in fact, in this very region, discovery may bring with it a higher kind of conviction than can accompany the results of investigation in any other direction. In these grandest of all thinkings, the great men of this time showed a grandeur of thought worthy of their surpassing excellence in other noblest fields of human labour. They thought greatly because they aspired greatly. Sir Walter Raleigh was a personal friend of Edmund Spenser. They were almost of the same age, the former born in 1552, the latter in the following year. A writer of magnificent prose, itself full of religion and poetry both in thought and expression, he has not distinguished himself greatly in verse. There is, however, one remarkable poem fit for my purpose, which I can hardly doubt to be his. It is called Sir Walter Raleigh's Pilgrimage. The probability is that it was written just after his condemnation in 1603- although many years passed before his sentence was carried into execution. 1 A shell plentiful on the coast of Palestine, and worn by pilgrims to show that they had visited that country. SIR WALTER RALEIGH'S PILGRIMAGE. 73 No cause deferred; no vain-spent journey; For there Christ is the King's Attorney, To him that made heaven, earth, and sea, That, since my flesh must die so soon, And want a head to dine next noon, irrespective of rank. Just at the stroke, when my veins start and spread, Then am I ready, like a palmer fit, To tread those blest paths which before I writ. This poem is a somewhat strange medley, with a confusion of figure, and a repeated failure in dignity, which is very far indeed from being worthy of Raleigh's prose. But it is very remarkable how wretchedly some men will show, who, doing their own work well, attempt that for which practice has not to use a word of the time-enabled them. There is real power in the poem, however, and the confusion is far more indicative of the pleased success of an unaccustomed hand than of incapacity for harmonious work. Some of the imagery, especially the "crystal buckets," will suggest those grotesque drawings called Emblems, which were much in use |