The whiles some one did chaunt this lovely lay: Ah! see, whoso fayre thing doest faine to see, In springing flowre the image of thy day. Ah! see the Virgin Rose, how sweetly shee Doth first peepe foorth with bashfull modestee, That fairer seemes the lesse ye see her may. Lo! see soone after how more bold and free Her bared bosome she doth broad display; Lo! see soone after how she fades and falls away.

So passeth, in the passing of a day,

Of mortall life the leafe, the bud, the flowre;
Ne more doth florish after first decay,

That earst was sought to deck both bed and bowre

Of many a lady, and many a Paramowre.
Gather therefore the Rose whilest yet is prime,
For soone comes age that will her pride deflowre;
Gather the Rose of love whilest yet is time,

Whilest loving thou mayst loved be with equall crime.
(From The Faerie Queene, Book ii. canto xii.)

'And all about her necke and shoulders flew A flocke of litle loves, and sports, and joyes, With nimble wings of gold and purple hew; Whose shapes seem'd not like to terrestriall boyes, But like to Angels playing heavenly toyes, The whilest their eldest brother was away, Cupid their eldest brother; he enjoyes The wide kingdome of love with lordly sway, And to his law compels all creatures to obay.

'And all about her altar scattered lay Great sorts of lovers piteously complayning, Some of their losse, some of their loves delay, Some of their pride, some paragons disdayning, Some fearing fraud, some fraudulently fayning, As every one had cause of good or ill.

Amongst the rest some one, through Loves constrayning Tormented sore, could not containe it still,

But thus brake forth, that all the temple it did fill:

""Great Venus! Queene of beautie and of grace,
The joy of Gods and men, that under skie
Doest fayrest shine, and most adorne thy place;
That with thy smyling looke doest pacifie

The raging seas, and makst the stormes to flie;
Thee, goddesse, thee the winds, the clouds doe feare,
And, when thou spredst thy mantle forth on hie,
The waters play, and pleasant lands appeare,

And heavens laugh, and al the world shews joyous
cheare."'
(From The Faerie Queene, Book iv. canto x.)

Mutability.

When I bethinke me on that speech whyleare erewhile Of Mutabilitie, and well it way,

Me seemes that though she all unworthy were
Of the Heav'ns Rule; yet, very sooth to say,
In all things else she beares the greatest sway:
Which makes me loath this state of life so tickle, insecure
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 thence-forth all shall rest eternally

With Him that is the God of Sabaoth hight:

O! that great Sabaoth God, grant me that Sabaoths sight. (From The Faerie Quene, Book vii. canto viii.)

Spenser Visited by Walter Raleigh. 'One day (quoth he) I sat (as was my trade) Under the foote of Mole, that mountaine hore, Keeping my sheepe amongst the cooly shade Of the greene alders by the Mullaes shore; There a straunge shepheard chaunst to find me out, Whether allured with my pipes delight, Whose pleasing sound yshrilled far about, Or thither led by chaunce, I know not right: Whom when I asked from what place he came, And how he hight, himselfe he did ycleepe The Shepheard of the Ocean by name, And said he came far from the main-sea deepe.

He, sitting me beside in that same shade,
Provoked me to plaie some pleasant fit ;
And when he heard the musicke which I made,
He found himselfe full greatly pleasd at it:
Yet, æmuling my pipe, he tooke in hond
My pipe, before that æmuled of many,

And plaid thereon; (for well that skill he cond ;)
Himselfe as skilfull in that art as any.

He pip'd, I sung; and, when he sung, I piped;
By chaunge of turnes, each making other mery;
Neither envying other, nor envied,

So piped we, until we both were weary.'

(From Colin Clout's Come Home Again.)

From 'An Hymn of Heavenly Beauty.'
Vouchsafe then, O thou most Almightie Spright!
From whom all guifts of wit and knowledge flow,
To shed into my breast some sparkling light
Of thine eternall Truth, that I may show
Some litle beames to mortall eyes below
Of that iminortall beautie, there with thee,
Which in my weake distraughted mynd I see;

That with the glorie of so goodly sight
The hearts of men, which fondly here admyre
Faire seeming shewes, and feed on vaine delight,
Transported with celestiall desyre

Of those faire formes, may lift themselves up hyer,
And learne to love, with zealous humble dewty,
Th' eternall fountaine of that heavenly beauty.

Beginning then below, with th' easie vew
Of this base world, subject to fleshly eye,
From thence to mount aloft, by order dew,
To contemplation of th' immortall sky;
Of the soare faulcon so I learne to fly,
That flags awhile her fluttering wings beneath,
Till she her selfe for stronger flight can breath.

Then looke, who list thy gazefull eyes to feed
With sight of that is faire, looke on the frame
Of this wyde universe, and therein reed
The endlesse kinds of creatures which by name
Thou canst not count, much lesse their natures aime;
All which are made with wondrous wise respect,
And all with admirable beautie deckt.

First, th' Earth, on adamantine pillers founded
Amid the Sea, engirt with brasen bands;
Then th' Aire still flitting, but yet firmely bounded

On everie side, with pyles of flaming brands, Never consum'd, nor quencht with mortall hands; And, last, that mightie shining christall wall, Wherewith he hath encompassed this All.

From the Epithalamion.'

Wake now, my love, awake! for it is time;
The Rosy Morne long since left Tithones bed,
All ready to her silver coche to clyme;
And Phoebus gins to shew his glorious hed.
Hark! how the cheerefull birds do chaunt theyr laies
And carroll of Loves praise.

The merry Larke hir mattins sings aloft;

The Thrush replyes; the Mavis descant playes:

The Ouzell shrills; the Ruddock warbles soft; Redbreast So goodly all agree, with sweet consent,

To this dayes merriment.

Ah! my deere love, why doe ye sleepe thus long,
When meeter were that ye should now awake,
T'awayt the comming of your joyous make,
And hearken to the birds love-learned song,
The deawy leaves among!

Nor they of joy and pleasance to you sing,
That all the woods them answer, and theyr eccho ring.

My love is now awake out of her dreames,

And her fayre eyes, like stars that dimmed were
With darksome cloud, now shew theyr goodly beams
More bright than Hesperus his head doth rere.
Come now, ye damzels, daughters of delight,
Helpe quickly her to dight:

But first come ye fayre houres, which were begot
In Joves sweet paradice of Day and Night;
Which doe the seasons of the yeare allot,
And al, that ever in this world is fayre,
Doe make and still repayre :

And ye three handmayds of the Cyprian Queene,
The which doe still adorne her beauties pride,
Helpe to addorne my beautifullest bride :
And, as ye her array, still throw betweene
Some graces to be seene;

And, as ye use to Venus, to her sing,

The whiles the woods shal answer, and your eccho ring.

Now is my love all ready forth to come :
Let all the virgins therefore well awayt:
And ye fresh boyes, that tend upon her groome,
Prepare your selves; for he is comming strayt.
Set all your things in seemely good aray,

Fit for so joyfull day :

The joyfulst day that ever sunne did see.
Faire Sun! shew forth thy favourable ray,
And let thy lifull heat not fervent be,
For feare of burning her sunshyny face,
Her beauty to disgrace.

O fayrest Phoebus! father of the Muse !
If ever I did honour thee aright,

Or sing the thing that mote thy mind delight,
Doe not thy servants simple boone refuse;
But let this day, let this one day, be myne;

Let all the rest be thine.

life-full

Then I thy soverayne prayses loud wil sing,
That all the woods shal answer, and theyr eccho ring.

Harke! how the Minstrils gin to shrill aloud Their merry Musick that resounds from far,

Loe! where she comes along with portly pace,
Lyke Phoebe, from her chamber of the East,
Arysing forth to run her mighty race,
Clad all in white, that seemes a virgin best.
So well it her beseemes, that ye would weene
Some angell she had beene.

Her long loose yellow locks lyke golden wyre,
Sprinckled with perle, and perling flowres atweene,
Doe lyke a golden mantle her attyre;

And, being crowned with a girland greene,

Seeme lyke some mayden Queene.

Her modest eyes, abashed to behold

So many gazers as on her do stare,

Upon the lowly ground affixed are;

Ne dare lift up her countenance too bold,
But blush to heare her prayses sung so loud,
So farre from being proud.

Nathlesse doe ye still loud her prayses sing,
That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring.

Tell me, ye merchants daughters, did ye see
So fayre a creature in your towne before;
So sweet, so lovely, and so mild as she,
Adornd with beautyes grace and vertues store?
Her goodly eyes lyke Saphyres shining bright,
Her forehead yvory white,

Her cheekes lyke apples which the sun hath rudded,
Her lips like cherryes charming men to byte,
Her brest like to a bowle of creame uncrudded,
Her paps lyke lyllies budded,

Her snowie necke lyke to a marble towre;
And all her body like a pallace fayre,
Ascending up, with many a stately stayre,
To honors seat and chastities sweet bowre.
Why stand ye still, ye virgins, in amaze,
Upon her so to gaze,

Whiles ye forget your former lay to sing,

To which the woods did answer, and your eccho ring?

But if ye saw that which no eyes can see,
The inward beauty of her lively spright,
Garnisht with heavenly guifts of high degree,
Much more then would ye wonder at that sight,
And stand astonisht lyke to those which red
Medusaes mazeful hed.

There dwels sweet love, and constant chastity,
Unspotted fayth, and comely womanhood,
Regard of honour, and mild modesty;

There vertue raynes as Queene in royal throne,
And giveth lawes alone,

The which the base affections doe obay,
And yeeld theyr services unto her will;
Ne thought of thing uncomely ever may
Thereto approch to tempt her mind to ill.

Had ye once seene these her celestial threasures,
And unrevealed pleasures,

Then would ye wonder, and her prayses sing,

That al the woods should answer, and your eccho ring.

The View of the Present State of Ireland, 'discoursed by way of a dialogue betweene Eudoxus and Irenæus,' begins thus :

Eudox. But yf that countrey of Ireland, whence you lately came, be soe goodly and commodious a soyle, as ye report, I wonder that noe course is taken for the tourning therof to good uses, and reducing of that savadge nation to better government and civilitye.

Iren. Marry, soe there have beene divers good plottes devised, and wise counsells cast alleready about reformation of that realme; but they say, it is the fatall desteny of that land, that noe purposes, whatsoever are meant for her good, will prosper or take good effect, which whether it proceede from the very GENIUS of the soyle, or influence of the starres, or that Allmighty God hath not yet appoynted the time of her reformation, or that he reserveth her in this unquiett state still for some secrett scourdge, which shall by her come unto England, it is hard to be knowen, but yet much to be feared.

Spenser expounds at some length the melancholy fact that the earliest English settlers in Ireland became Hibernis ipsis Hiberniores :

Iren. The cheifest abuses which are nowe in that realme, are growen from the English that were, but are nowe much more lawless and licentious then the very wild Irish: soe that as much care as was then by them had to reforme the Irish, soe much and more must nowe be used to reform them; soe much time doth alter the manners of men.

Eudox. That seemeth very straunge which you say, that men should soe much degenerate from theyr first natures as to growe wilde.

Iren. Soe much can libertye and ill example doe.

Eudox. What libertye had the English there, more then they had heere at home? Were not the lawes plaunted amongest them at the first, and had not they governours to courbe and keepe them still in awe and obedience?

Iren. They had, but it was, for the most part, such as did more hurte then good; for they had governours for the most part of themselves, and commonly out of the two howses of the Geraldins and the Butlers, both adversaryes and corryvalls one agaynst the other. Whoe though, for the most parte, they were but as deputyes under some of the King of Englandes sonnes, brethren, or other neere kinsemen, whoe were the Kinges lieutenauntes, yet they swayed soe much, as they had all the rule, and the others but the title. Of which Butlers and Geraldins, albeit (I must confess) theye were very brave and woorthye men, as also of other the Peeres of that realme, made Lord Deputyes and Lord Justices at sundry times, yet thorough greatnes of their late conquests and seignories they grewe insolent, and bent both that regall authoritye, and also theyr private powers, one agaynst

another, to the utter subversion of themselves, and strengthening of the Irish agayne. This ye may see playnly discovered by a letter written from the cittizens of Corke out of Ireland, to the Earle of Shrewsbury then in England, and remayning yet upon record, both in the Towre of London, and also amongest the Chronicles of Ireland. Wherein it is by them complained, that the English Lords and Gentlemen, who then had great possessions in Ireland, beganne, through pride and insolencye, to make private warres one agaynst another, and when either parte was weake they would wage and drawe in the Irish to take theyr parte, by which meanes they both greatlie encouraged and enabled the Irish, which till that time had bene shutt up within the Mountayne of Slewloghir, and weakened and disabled themselves, insoemuch that theyr revenues were wonderfully impayred, and some of them, which are there reckoned to have bene able to have spent 12 or 13 hundred poundes per annum, of old rent, (that I may say noe more) besides theyr commodityes of creekes and havens, were nowe scarce able to dispend the third part. From which disorder, an other huge calamitye came upon them, as that, they are nowe growen to be allmost as lewde as the Irish: I meane of such English as were planted above toward the West; for the English Pale hath preserved it self, through neereness of their state, in reasonable civilitye, but the rest which dwell above Conaught and in Mounster, which is the sweetest soyle of Ireland, and some in Leinster and Ulster, are degenerate, and growen to be as very patchockes [clowns, boors] as the wild Irish, yea and some of them have quite shaken of theyr English names, and put on Irish that they might be alltogither Irish.

Yet, though taking a somewhat pessimist view of Irish polity and Irish character in these distracted times, Spenser, as Irenæus, says:

I have heard some greate warriours say, that, in all the services which they had seene abroade in forrayne countreys, they never sawe a more comely horseman then the Irish man, nor that cometh on more bravely in his charge neither is his manner of mounting unseemely, though he wante stirrops, but more ready then with stirrops; for in his getting up his horse is still going, wherby he gayneth way.

And when Eudoxus asks about the bards:

Tell me I pray you) have they any arte in theyr compositions? or be they any thing wittye or well savoured, as Poems should be? [Irenæus answers :]

Yea truly; I have caused diverse of them to be translated unto me that I might understand them; and surely they savoured of sweete witt and good invention, but skilled not of the goodly ornamentes of Poetrye: yet were they sprinckled with some prety flowers of theyr owne naturall devise, which gave good grace and comliness unto them.

The dates of the first publication of Spenser's separate works have been given in the course of the narrative. The Faerie Queene was completed in six books in 1596; the earliest edition in folio is that of 1609. Spenser's works were first collected in 1611; and again in 1679, with a Life. During the last two centuries the editions have been innumerable; the Globe edition (1899) is the most compendious, Dr Grosart's (10 vols. 1882-84) the most copious. The best biography of Spenser is still that published by Dean R. W. Church in 1879.

EDMUND GOSSE.

Sir Walter Raleigh was one of the most brilliant and heroic of the great men who adorned the reign of Elizabeth. Ralegh, Rauleygh, and Rauley, other spellings used by himself, show how the name was pronounced. He was born in 1552, at Hayes manor, near Sidmouth in Devon, of an ancient family; and from his youth was distinguished by great intellectual acuteness, but still more by a restless and adventurous disposition. Having studied awhile at Oriel College, Oxford, he became a soldier at seventeen; fought for the Huguenot cause in the civil wars of France; and in 1578 joined a luckless expedition of his half-brother, Sir Humphrey Gilbert, in quest of the Unknown Goal.' In 1580 he went to Ireland with a hundred soldiers to act against the rebels. He took part in the massacre on 10th November of six hundred Spaniards and Italians from the fort of Smerwick, and in all his movements showed vigour and ability and no scruples. He remained in Ireland until December 1581, when we find him receiving £20 for carrying despatches from Colonel Zouch to the queen; with the aid of a handsome person and winning address, he soon became a special favourite with Elizabeth. The energy displayed in suppressing the rebellion of Desmond brought Raleigh a grant of part of the forfeited property-ultimately extended to 40,000 acres, it would seem; and he had the farm of wines' and a license to export broadcloth. In 1584 he was knighted; in 1585 he became Lord Warden of the Stannaries and Vice-Admiral of Devon and Cornwall; and in 1585-86 he sat in parliament for Devon. In 1584 he joined in an adventure for the discovery and settlement of unknown countries. With the help of his friends, two ships were sent out in quest of gold-mines to that part of North America of which a section still retains the name Virginia, conferred by Queen Elizabeth; but Raleigh himself was not with these vessels. The commodities brought home by them produced so good a return that the owners were induced to fit out, for the next year, another fleet of seven ships, under the command of Raleigh's cousin, Sir Richard Grenville. The attempt made to colonise America proved an utter failure; and after a second trial in 1587 the enterprise was given up. The second expedition is said to have been the means of introducing tobacco into England, and also of making known the potato, which was first cultivated on Raleigh's land in Ireland. On these expeditions he spent £40,000, but acquired a right to be regarded as the first Englishman who seriously aimed at creating a Greater England over-seas, the father of British colonial enterprise.

When visiting his Irish estates Raleigh formed or renewed with Spenser an acquaintance which ripened into intimate friendship. He introduced the poet to Elizabeth, and otherwise benefited him by his patronage and encouragement; for which favour Spenser acknowledged his obligation in

Colin Clout's Come Home Again, where Raleigh is celebrated under the title of the 'Shepherd of the Ocean;' and also in a letter to him, prefixed to the Faerie Queene, explaining the plan and design of that poem. Raleigh's famous tract on the Fight about the Isles of the Azores, which inspired Tennyson's noblest war lyric, appeared in 1591. In 1592 he prepared a new expedition to seize the Spanish treasure-ships, but his doting mistress forbade him to sail with the fleet. Now he fell

Earl, who considered himself robbed of the glory of the action. A temporary reconciliation was effected; but Raleigh afterwards heartily joined with Cecil in promoting the downfall of Essex, and was a spectator of his execution from a window in the Armoury. On the accession of James I. in March 1603, Raleigh's prosperity was at an end. Cecil naturally promoted his own supporters, Raleigh's friends fell from power, and he himself was deprived of his offices. He may have done and

England, he published, in 1596, a Discovery of the Large, Rich, and Beautiful Empire of Guiana-a work Hume, following the sneering judgments of Raleigh's worst enemies, characterised as 'full of the grossest and most palpable lies that were ever attempted to be imposed on the credulity of mankind.' Subsequent explorers of Venezuela (part of Raleigh's 'Guiana') have proved his substantial accuracy. In the same year we find him holding a command in the expedition against Cadiz, under the Earl of Essex and Lord Effingham. In the successful attack on that town, his bravery, as well as prudence, was very conspicuous. In 1597 he was rear-admiral in the expedition which sailed under Essex to intercept the Spanish West-India fleet, and by capturing Fayal, one of the Azores, before the arrival of the commander-in-chief, gave great offence to the

said indiscreet things at a dangerous time. He was accused of conspiring to dethrone the king and place the crown on the head of Arabella Stuart; as also to bring in popery and put England in the power of Spain. After his arrest, he attempted suicide in the Tower. Tried for treason before a commission comprising Cecil, the Earls of Suffolk and Devon, the ChiefJustice, and others, he was condemned to a traitor's death on very inadequate evidence, mainly that of Lord Cobham, himself already convicted of treason. Sir Edward Coke

(Coke-upon-Littleton '), who was then attorneygeneral, abused Raleigh during the trial in violent and disgraceful terms, bestowing upon him such epithets as viper, damnable atheist, the most vile and execrable traitor that ever lived, monster, and spider of hell! Raleigh defended himself with such temper, acuteness, and eloquence that some even of his enemies were convinced of his innocence, and all parties were ashamed of the judgment pronounced. He was reprieved on the scaffold, his sentence being commuted to perpetual imprisonment; and for six of the twelve and a half years during which he was confined in the Tower his wife was permitted to bear him company. During his imprisonment he wrote his History of the World, encouraged by the sympathy and friendship of Prince Henry (1594-1612).