and pleasing to be beheld, that, as Chrysostome thinketh, if any man be sickly, troubled in minde, or that cannot sleep for griefe, and shall but stand over against one of Phidias' images, he will forget all care, or whatsoever else may molest him, in an instant?' There bee those as much taken with Michael Angelo's, Raphael de Urbino's, Francesco Francia's pieces, and many of those Italian and Dutch painters which were excellent in their ages; and esteeme of it as a most pleasing sight to view those neat architectures, devices, scutchions, coats of armes, read such bookes, to peruse old coynes of severall sorts in a faire gallery, artificiall workes, perspective glasses, old reliques, Roman antiquities, variety of colours. A good picture is falsa veritas, et muta poesis, and though (as Vives saith), artificialia delectant, sed mox fastidimus, artificiall toyes please but for a time; yet who is he that will not be moved with them for the present? When Achilles was tormented and sad for the losse of his dear friend Patroclus, his mother Thetis brought him a most elaborate and curious buckler made by Vulcan, in which were engraven sunne, moone, starres, planets, sea, land, men fighting, running, riding, women scolding, hils, dales, towns, castles, brooks, rivers, trees, &c.; with many pretty landskips and perspective peeces : with sight of which he was infinitely delighted. ... 'I no King James (1605), when he came to see our university of Oxford, and amongst other ædifices, now went to view that famous library, renued by S. Thomas Bodley, in imitation of Alexander, at his departure, brake out into that noble speech: 'If I were not a king, I would be an university man; and if it were so that I must be a prisoner, if I might have my wish, I would desire to have no other prison then that library, and to be chained together with so many good authors.' So sweet is the delight of study, the more learning they have-as hee that hath a dropsie, the more he drinks, the thirstier hee is the more they covet to learne, and the last day is prioris discipulus; harsh at first, learning is radices amara, but fructus dulces, according to that of Isocrates, pleasant at last; the longer they live, the more they are enamoured with the Muses. Heinsius, the keeper of the library at Leiden in Holland, was mewed up in it all the year long; and that which, to thy thinking, should have bred a loathing, caused in him a greater liking. sooner,' saith he, 'come into the library, but I bolt the doore to mee, excluding Lust, Ambition, Avarice, and all such vices, whose nurse is Idlenesse, the mother of Ignorance, and Melancholy her selfe; and in the very lap of eternity, amongst so many divine souls, I take my seat, with so lofty a spirit and sweet content, that I pity all our great ones and rich men, that know not this happinesse.' I am not ignorant in the meanetime, notwithstanding this which I have said, how barbarously and basely for the most part our ruder gentry esteeme of libraries and books, how they neglect and contemne so great a treasure, so inestimable a benefit, as Æsop's cocke did the jewell hee found in the dunghill; and all through error, ignorance, and want of education. And 'tis a wonder withall to observe how much they will vainely cast away in unnecessary expences, quot modis pereant (saith Erasmus) magnatibus pecuniæ, quantum absumant alea, scorta, compotationes, prosectiones non necessaria, pompa, bella quæsita, ambitio, colax, morio, ludio, &c., what in hawkes, hounds, law-suites, vaine building, gurmundizing, drinking, sports, playes, pastimes, &c. (From Part II. sect. ii.) Love of Gaming and Pleasures Immoderate. It is a wonder to see how many poore, distressed, miserable wretches one shall meet almost in every path and street, begging for an almes, that have been well descended, and sometimes in flourishing estate; now ragged, tattered, and ready to be starved, lingring out a painfull life in discontent and griefe of body and minde, and all through immoderate lust, gaming, pleasure, and riot. 'Tis the common end of all sensuall epicures and bruitish prodigals, that are stupified and carried away headlong with their severall pleasures and lusts. Cebes, in his Table, S. Ambrose in his second booke of Abel and Cain, and amongst the rest, Lucian, in his tract, De Mercede Conductis, hath excellent well deciphered such men's proceedings, in his picture of Opulentia, whom he faines to dwell on the top of a high mount, much sought after by many suitors. At their first comming, they are generally entertained by Pleasure and Dalliance, and have all the content that possibly may be given, so long as their money lasts; but when their meanes faile, they are contemptibly thrust out at a backe doore headlong, and there left to Shame, Reproach, Despaire. And hee at first that had so many attendants, parasites, and followers, young and lusty, richly arrayed, and all the dainty fare that might be had, with all kinde of welcome and good respect, is now upon a sudden stript of all, pale, naked, old, diseased, and forsaken, cursing his starres, and ready to strangle himself, having no other company but Repentance, Sorrow, Griefe, Dirision, Beggery, and Contempt, which are his daily attendants to his lives end. As the prodigall sonne had exquisite musicke, merry company, dainty fare at first, but a sorrowful reckoning in the end; so have all such vaine delights and their followers. (From Part 1. sect. ii.) This is the peroration of Burton's unique work: Last of all: If the party affected shall certainly know this malady to have proceeded from too much fasting, meditation, precise life, contemplation of Gods judgements, (for the divel deceives many by such meanes) in that other extream he circumvents melancholy it selfe, reading some books, treatises, hearing rigid preachers, &c. If he shall perceive that it hath begun first from some great loss, grievous accident, disaster, seeing others in like case, or any such terrible object, let him speedily remove the cause, which to the cure of this disease Navarrus so much commends, avertat cogitationem a re scrupulosa, by all opposite meanes, art, and industry, let him, laxare animum, by all honest recreations, refresh and recreate his distressed soule; let him divert his thoughts, by himselfe and other of his friends. Let him reade no more such tracts or subjects, hear no more such fearful tones, avoid such companies, and by all meanes open himselfe, submit himselfe to the advice of good physicians and divines, which is contraventio scrupulorum, as he cals it; hear them speake to whom the Lord hath given the tongue of the learned, to be able to minister a word to him that is weary, whose words are as flagons of wine. Let him not be obstinate, head-strong, peevish, wilful, self-conceited (as in this malady they are), but give eare to good advice, be ruled and perswaded; and no doubt but such good counsell may prove as prosperous to his soule, as the angel was to Peter, that opened the iron gates, loosed his bands, brought him out prison, and delivered him from bodily thraldome; they may ease his afflicted minde, relieve his wounded soule, and take him out of the jawes of hell it selfe. I can say no more, or give better advice to such as are any way distressed in this kinde, then what I have given and said. Only take this for a corollary and conclusion, as thou tenderest thine owne welfare in this, and all other melancholy, thy good health of body and minde, observe this short precept, give not way to solitariness and idleness. Be not solitary, be not idle. SPERATE MISERI, CAVETE FELICES. Vis a dubio liberari? vis quod incertum est evadere? Age pænitentiam dum sanus es; sic agens, dico tibi quod securus es, quod pænitentiam egisti eo tempore quo peccare potuisti (Austin). Among shorter sayings invented or quoted by Burton are: He that goes to law (as the proverb is) holds a wolf by the ears;' 'Industry is a loadstone to draw all good things ;' 'No cord or cable can so forcibly draw or hold so fast as love can do with a twined thread;' 'Poverty is the muse's patrimony;' 'The greatest enemy to man is man ;' and he characterises his freedom of expression in the familiar words, 'I call a spade a spade.' 'Where God hath a temple, the Divell will have a chappel; where God hath sacrifices, the Divell will have his oblations; where God hath ceremonies, the Divell will have his traditions; where there is any religion, the Divell will plant superstition,' is part of a memorable passage, the first clauses of which are given in a slightly dif ferent form by George Herbert in his Jacula Prudentum, first published in 1657, thus: 'No sooner is a temple built to God, but the Devil builds a chapel hard by ;' and the same winged word was versified as we usually hear it by Defoe : Wherever God erects a house of prayer, The Devil always builds a chapel there. Most of Burton's verse, original or translation, is mere doggerel. But The Author's Abstract of Melancholy, prefixed (not in all the editions) to the work, takes rather higher rank, and had the honour, as Warton pointed out, of giving Milton some suggestions both for L'Allegro and for Il Penseroso: The Author's Abstract of Melancholy. All my joyes to this are folly; When I go walking all alone, When to myself I act and smile, When I lie, sit, or walk alone, I sigh, I grieve, making great mone; Here now, then there; the world is mine, All other joyes to this are folly; Methinks I hear, methinks I see All my griefs to this are jolly; More than most men, Burton is identified with the one book which was the work of his life. But he wrote also a Latin comedy, Philosophaster, acted at Cambridge in 1617, and printed for the Roxburghe Club in 1862; and he contributed Latin verses to various collections. Of reprints or new editions of Burton, by far the most scholarly and valuable is that by the Rev. A. R. Shilleto, with an introduc tion by Mr A. H. Bullen (3 vols. 1893), in which most of the quotations are identified and verified. James Ussher, or USHER, the celebrated Archbishop of Armagh, was born in Dublin, 4th January 1581, son of a clerk in Chancery. He succeeded to his father's estate, but, wishing to devote himself uninterruptedly to study, gave it up to his brother and sisters, reserving for himself only a sufficiency for his maintenance at Trinity College and for the purchase of books. In 1606 he visited England, and became intimate with Camden and Sir Robert Cotton. For thirteen years (from 1607) he filled the chair of Divinity in the University of Dublin, dwelling largely on the controversies between the Protestants and Catholics. At the convocation of the Irish clergy in 1615, when they determined to assert their independence as a national Church, the articles were drawn up mainly by Ussher; and by asserting in them the Calvinistic doctrines of election and reprobation, by his advocacy of the rigorous observance of the Sabbath, and by his known He was opinion that bishops were not a distinct order in the Church, but only superior in degree to presbyters, he exposed himself to the charge of being a favourer of Puritanism. Having been accused as such to the king, he went over to England in 1619, and, in a conference with His Majesty, so fully cleared himself that he was erelong appointed to the see of Meath, and in 1625 to the archbishopric of Armagh. He aimed at a much-needed reform in the Irish Church, and proposed in vain a modification of Episcopacy to meet the objections of Presbyterians. His well-known visit to Samuel Rutherford at Anwoth, in Kirkcudbrightshire, may be assigned perhaps to 1638. During the political agitation of Charles's reign Ussher maintained the absolute unlawfulness of taking up arms against the king. The Irish rebellion in 1641 drove him to England, where he settled at Oxford, then the residence of Charles. Subsequently the civil war caused him repeatedly to change his abode, which was finally the Countess of Peterborough's seat at Reigate, where he died on 21st March 1656, at the age of seventy-five. buried with great pomp in Westminster Abbey. He refused to sit in the Westminster Assembly, and was for eight years preacher at Lincoln's Inn. He was a man of boundless humility, charity, and tolerance; was always loyal to the crown, but was treated with indulgence by Cromwell. He attended Strafford to the scaffold, and fainted when from Lady Peterborough's London house he saw the villains in vizards' put up Charles I.'s hair. Most of his writings relate to ecclesiastical history and antiquities, and were mainly intended to furnish arguments against the Catholics; but the book for which he is chiefly celebrated is a great chronological work in Latin, the Annales, the first part of which was published in 1650, and the second in 1654. In this chronological digest of universal history from the creation of the world to the dispersion of the Jews in Vespasian's reign, received with great applause by the learned throughout Europe, and several times reprinted on the Continent, the author, by fixing the three epochs of the deluge, the departure of the Israelites from Egypt, and their return from Babylon, was held to have reconciled the chronologies of sacred and profane history. His chronological system, putting the creation of the world in 4004 B.C., was long that generally received. Ussher conformed strictly to Hebrew chronology in Scriptural dates; the Septuagint version and the Samaritan Pentateuch differ greatly from it. Modern Egyptologists of course wholly disregard his limitations; recent Babylonian research has uncovered tablets held to date from six thousand to seven thousand years before Christ; geologists calmly assume that the Tertiary epoch began ninety-three million years ago. But Ussher still has the glory of having done the best he could, and of having provided what was for centuries a practicable scheme for the working purposes. Fuller was said to have supervised the translation of the Annales in 1658. Ussher wrote also on the ancient religion of the Irish and British, on the ecclesiastical antiquities of Britain, and on the Septuagint; the Calvinistic Body of Divinity (1645) is only partly his. The unfinished and posthumously published Chronologia Sacra (1660) was meant as a guide to the study of sacred history, and as showing the grounds and calculations of the principal epochs of the Annales. The opening of the opus magnum (as in the translation of 1658) shows the precision with which Ussher saw his way to fix the date of the Creation : Julian Before Period Christ 710 4004 In the beginning God created heaven and earth, Gen. I. v. I. Which beginning of time, according to our chronologie, fell upon the entrance of the night preceding the twenty third day of Octob. in the year of the Julian Calendar, 710. Upon the first day therefore of the world, or Octob. 23. being our sunday, God, together with the highest heaven, created the angels. Then having finished, as it were, the roofe of this building, he fell in hand with the foundation of this wonderfull fabrick of the world, he fashioned this lowermost globe, consisting of the deep, and of the earth; all the quire of angels singing together, and magnifying his name therefore. [Job. 38. v. 7.] And when the earth was void and without forme, and darknesse covered the face of the deepe, on the very middle of the first day, the light was created; which God severing from the darknesse, called the one day, and the other night. On the second day [October 24. being Monday] the firmament being finished, which was called heaven, a separation was made of the waters above and the waters here beneath enclosing the earth. Upon the third day [Octob. 25. Tuesday] these waters beneath running together into one place, the dry land appeared. This confluence of the waters God made a sea, sending out from thence the rivers, which were thither to return again [Eccles. 1. vers. 7.], and he caused the earth to bud, and bring forth all kinds of herbs and plants, with seeds and fruits: But above all, he enriched the garden of Eden with plants; for among them grew the tree of Life and the tree of Knowledge of good and evil. [Gen. 2. vers. 8, 9.] On the fourth day [Octob. 26. which is our Wednesday] the sun, the moon, and the rest of the stars were created. The work of the other days is recorded with the same particularity. The method on which the archbishop proceeded in his calculation of the dates is explained in the 'Epistle to the Reader' thus: But for as much as our Christian epoch falls many ages after the beginning of the world, and the number of years before that backward is not onely more troublesome, but (unlesse greater care be taken) more lyable to errour; also it hath pleased our modern chronologers, to adde to that generally received hypothesis (which asserted the Julian years, with their three cycles by a certain mathematical prolepsis, to have run down to the very beginning of the world) an artificial epoch, framed out of three cycles multiplied in themselves; for the Solar Cicle being multiplied by the Lunar, or the number of 28 by 19, produces the great Paschal Cycle of 532 years, and that again multiplied by fifteen, the number of the indiction, there arises the period of 7980 years, which was first (if I mistake not) observed by Robert Lotharing, Bishop of Hereford, in our island of Brittain, and 500 years after by Joseph Scaliger fitted for chronological uses, and called by the name of the Julian Period, because it conteined a cycle of so many Julian years. Now if the series of the three minor cicles be from this present year extended backward unto precedent times, the 4713 years before the beginning of our Christian account will be found to be that year into which the first year of the indiction, the first of the Lunar Cicle, and the first of the Solar will fall. Having placed therefore the heads of this period in the kalends of January in that proleptick year, the first of our Christian vulgar account must be reckoned the 4714 of the Julian Period, which, being divided by 15. 19. 28. will present us with the 4 Roman indiction, the 2 Lunar Cycle, and the 10 Solar, which are the principal characters of that year. We find moreover that the year of our fore-fathers, and the years of the ancient Egyptians and Hebrews were of the same quantity with the Julian, consisting of twelve equal moneths, every of them conteining 30 dayes, (for it cannot be proved that the Hebrews did use lunary moneths before the Babylonian Captivity) adjoyning to the end of the twelfth moneth, the addition of five dayes, and every fourth year six. And I have observed by the continued succession of these years, as they are delivered in holy writ, that the end of the great Nebuchadnezars and the beginning of Evilmerodachs (his sons) reign, fell out in the 3442 year of the world, but by collation of Chaldean history and the astronomical cannon, it fell out in the 186 year of Nabonasar, and, as by certain connexion, it must follow in the 562 year before the Christian account, and of the Julian Period, the 4152. and from thence I gathered the creation of the world did fall out upon the 710 year of the Julian Period, by placing its beginning in autumn: but for as much as the first day of the world began with the evening of the first day of the week, I have observed that the Sunday, which in the year 710 aforesaid came nearest the Autumnal Æquinox, by astronomical tables (notwithstanding the stay of the sun in the dayes of Joshua, and the going back of it in the dayes of Ezekiah) happened upon the 23 day of the Julian October; from thence concluded that from the evening preceding that first day of the Julian year, both the first day of the creation and the first motion of time are to be deduced. His complete writings were edited by Elrington and Todd (17 vols. 1847-64). See Life by Dr J. A. Carr (1895), and the Ussher Memoirs by W. Ball Wright (1889). Sir Thomas Overbury was famous as a witty and ingenious describer of 'characters.' He was for years an intimate of Robert Carr, the minion of James I.; but having opposed the favourite's marriage with the infamous Countess of Essex, he incurred the hatred of the pair, and through their influence was confined in the Tower, and poisoned there on the 15th of September 1613-being then in the thirty-second year of his age. Three months later Carr, now Earl of Somerset, was married to Lady Essex. The way in which, though humbler instruments were executed, the principals in this murder were screened from justice leaves a foul blot on the memory of the king. Overbury wrote one very popular didactic poem, The Wife (published in 1614), on choosing a partner for life, which was imitated in The Husband, A Wife Bespoken, &c. The prose Characters (1614), among the first of that kind of witty descriptions of types (Hall having been in the field in 1608), were often reprinted and frequently imitated. They abound in strained conceits, but are full of epigrammatic point. It is, however, doubtful how many of them are by Overbury himself. The number of characters was increased in successive editions; the fourth contained thirty. The Tinker (here quoted) and two others first appeared in the sixth (1616), and are by J. Cocke' -possibly 'Jo. Cooke, Gent.,' whose clever drama, Greene's Tu Quoque, appeared in 1614. Still more doubtful is it whether the Crumms fal'n from King James's Table, professedly that king's table-talk, was to any extent Overbury's work. The first verse of The Wife is as follows (the spelling in this and all the extracts being that of the edition of 1638): Each woman is a briefe of Womankind, And doth in little even as much containe God fram'd Her so that to her Husband She A faire and happy Milk-maid Is a Countrey Wench that is so farre from making her selfe beautifull by Art, that one looke of hers is able to put all face-physicke out of countenance. She knows a faire looke is but a Dumbe Orator to commend vertue, therefore minds it not. All her excellencies stand in her so silently, as if they had stolne upon her without her knowledge. The lining of her apparell, which is her selfe, is farre better than outsides of Tissew; for though she be not arrayed in the spoil of the Silke-worme shee is deckt in innocency, a far better wearing. She doth not, with lying long abed, spoile both her complexion and conditions: nature hath taught her, too, immoderate sleepe is rust to the Soule: she rises, therefore, with Chaunticleare, her dame's Cock, and at night makes the lamb her Corfew. In milking a Cow, and straining the teats through her fingers, it seemes that so sweet a Milk-presse makes the Milk the whiter or sweeter; for never came AlmondGlove or Aromatique oyntment of her palme to taint it. The golded eares of corne fall and kisse her feet when shee reapes them, as if they wisht to be bound and led Her breath prisoners by the same hand that fell'd them. is her own, which sents all the yeare long of June, like a new-made Haycock. She makes her hand hard with labour, and her heart soft with pitty; and when winters evenings fall early (sitting at her mery wheele) she sings a defiance to the giddy wheele of Fortune. She doth all things with so sweet a grace, it seems ignorance will not suffer her to doe ill, being her mind is to doe well. Shee bestowes her yeares wages at next faire, and in chusing her garments counts no bravery i' th' world like decency. The garden and bee-hive are all her Physick and chirurgery, and she lives the longer for't. She dares goe alone and unfold sheepe i' th' night, and feares no manner of ill, because she meanes none; yet to say truth, she is never alone, for she is still accompanied with old songs, honest thoughts, and prayers, but short ones; yet they have their efficacy, in that they are not pauled [palled, weakened] with insuing idle cogitations. Lastly, her dreames are so chaste, that shee dare tell them; only a Fridaies dream is all her superstition; that she conceales for feare of anger. Thus lives she, and all her care is, she may die in the Spring-time, to have store of flowers stucke upon her winding-sheet. A Franklin. His outside is an ancient Yeoman of England, though his inside may give armes with the best Gentlemen, and ne're see the Herauld. There is no truer servant in the House than himselfe. Though he be Master, he sayes not to his servants, Goe to field,' but, 'Let us goe,' and with his owne eye doth both fatten his flock and set forward all manner of husbandrie. Hee is taught by nature to bee contented with a little; his owne fold yeelds him both food and rayment; he is pleas'd with any nourishment God sends, whilst curious gluttony ransackes, as it were, Noahs Arke for food, onely to feed the riot of one meale. He is ne'r knowne to goe to Law; understanding to bee Law-bound among men, is like to bee hide-bound among his beasts; they thrive not under it; and that such men sleepe as unquietly as if their pillowes were stufft with lawyers penknives. When he builds, no poore tenant's cottage hinders his prospect ; they are, indeed, his Almes-houses, though there be painted on them no such superscription. He never sits up late but when he hunts the Badger, the vow'd foe of his Lambs; nor uses hee any cruelty but when hee hunts the Hare; nor subtilty but when he setteth snares for the Snipe, or pitfalls for the Black bird; nor oppression but when, in the moneth of July, he goes to the next River and sheares his sheepe. He allowes of honest pastime, and thinkes not the bones of the dead anything bruised, or the worse for it, though the country Lasses dance in the Church-yard after Evensong. RockMunday [or St Distaff's Day, the Monday after Twelfth Day, when, after the Christmas celebrations, spinning was resumed by the women], and the Wake in Summer, shrovings, the wakeful ketches [catches or carols sung in the night] on Christmas Eve, the Hoky [Hocktide, a fortnight after Easter] or Seed Cake-these he yeerly keepes yet holds them no reliques of popery. He is not so inquisitive after newes derived from the privy-clozet, when the finding an eiery of Hawkes in his owne ground, or the foaling of a colt come of a good straine are tydings more pleasant and more profitable. Hee is Lord paramount within himselfe, though hee hold by never so mean a Tenure; and dyes the more contentedly (though he leave his heire young) in regard he leaves him not liable to a covetous Guardian. Lastly, to end him, hee cares not when his end comes; hee needs not feare his audit, for his Quietus is in heaven. The Tinker. BY J. COCKE. A tinker is a moveable, for hee hath no abiding place; by his motion hee gathers heat, thence his cholericke nature. He seemes to be very devout, for his life is a continuall pilgrimage; and sometimes in humility His goes barefoot, therein making necessity a vertue. house is as ancient as Tubal Cain's, and so is a runnagate by antiquity; yet he proves himselfe a Gallant, for he carries all his wealth upon his back; or a Philosopher, for he bears all his substance about him. From his Art was Musick first invented, and therefore is he alwaies furnisht with a song, to which his hammer, keeping tune, proves that he was the first founder for the kettle-drum. Note that where the best Ale is, there stands his music most upon crotchets. The companion of his travels is some foule, sunne-burnt Queane that since the terrible Statute recanted Gipsisme, and is turned Pedleresse. So marches he all over England with his bag and baggage; his conversation is unreproveable, for hee is ever mending. Hee observes truly the Statutes, and therefore he can rather steale than begge, in which hee is unremoveably constant, in spight of whip or imprisonment; and so a strong enemy to idleness that, in mending one hole, he had rather make three than want worke; and when hee hath done, hee throwes the wallet of his faults behind him. He embraceth naturally ancient custome, conversing in open fields and lowly Cottages if he visit Cities or Townes, tis but to deale upon the imperfections of our weaker vessels. His tongue is very voluble, which, with Canting, proves him a Linguist. He is entertain'd in every place, but enters no further than the doore, to avoid suspition. Some would take him to be a Coward, but, beleeve it, he is a Lad of mettle; his valour is commonly three or foure yards long, fastned to a pike in the end, for flying off. He is provident, for he will fight with but one at once, and then also hee had rather submit than be counted obstinate. To conclude, if he scape Tyburn and Banbury, he dies a begger. Overbury's works were collected by Rimbault and published, with a Life, in 1856. John Chalkhill.-A poem described as 'a pastoral history,' Thealma and Clearchus, was published by Izaak Walton in 1683, with a titlepage stating it to have been written long since by JOHN CHALKHILL, Esq., an acquaintant and friend of Edmund Spencer.' Walton, who had known the author, says 'he was in his time a man generally known, and as well beloved; for he was humble and obliging in his behaviour, a gentleman, a scholar, very innocent and prudent; and, indeed, his whole life was useful, quiet, and virtuous.' Thealma and Clearchus was reprinted by the Rev. Samuel Weller Singer (Chiswick, 1820), who expressed an opinion that, as Walton had been silent upon the life of Chalkhill, he might be altogether a fictitious personage, and the poem be actually the composition of Walton himself; and a writer, probably Sir Egerton Brydges, in vol. iv. of the Retrospective Review, after investigating the circumstances, came to the same conclusion. But Mr F. S. Merryweather, in the Gentleman's Magazine for 1860, showed that towards the close of Elizabeth's reign an Ivon or Ion Chalkhill, Gent., was one of the coroners for the county of Middlesex, and suggested that this may have been the poet. The poetry soars above the level of Izaak's muse, who dwelt by the side of trout streams and among quiet meadows. The |