nations of men, as islands or rocky ridges in the sea are between the finny tribes inhabiting the opposite coasts.

Sunday.

HERBERT.

[GEORGE HERBERT, the fifth brother of Lord Herbert of Cherbury, was born in 1593; he died in 1632. His character as a minister was full of Christian graces. He belonged to the same class of clergymen as Hooker-devoted to pastoral duties—enthusiastic in his reverence for the offices of the Church His religious poetry used to be neglected for its quaintness; but the preser age has restored it to its proper rank amongst the writers who have left us gems which antiquity cannot rust. The poem which we give has a peculiar interest in being his death-bed song, as we learn from the following narrative of Isaac Walton:

"In this time of his decay, he was often visited and prayed for by all the clergy that lived near to him, especially by his friends the Bishop and Prebends of the Cathedral Church in Salisbury; but by none more devoutly than his wife, his three nieces, (then a part of his family,) and Mr Woodnot, who were the sad witnesses of his daily decay; to whom he would often speak to this purpose:-'I now look back upon the pleasures of my life past, and see the content I have taken in beauty, in wit, in music, and pleasant conversation, are now all past by me, like a dream, or as a shadow that returns not, and are now all become dead to me, or I to them; and I see that as my father and generation hath done before me, so I also shall now suddenly (with Job) make my bed also in the dark; and I praise God I am prepared for it; and I praise Him that I am not to learn patience, now I stand in such need of it, and that I have practised mortification, and endeavoured to die daily, that I might not die eternally; and my hope is, that I shall shortly leave this valley of tears, and be free from all fevers and pain; and, which will be a more happy condition, I shall be free from sin, and all the temptations and anxieties that attend it; and this being past, I shall dwell in the New Jerusalem, dwell there with men made perfect, dwell where these eyes shall see my Master and Saviour Jesus and with Him see my dear mother, and all my relations and friends. But I must die, or not come to that happy place; and this is my content, that I am going daily towards it, and that every day which I have lived hath taken a part of my appointed time from me, and that I shall live the less time for having lived this, and the day past.' These, and the like expressions, which he uttered often, may be said to be his enjoyment of heaven before he enjoyed it. The Sunday before his death he rose suddenly from his bed or couch, called for one of his instruments, took it into his hand, and said, ' My God, my God,

"My music shall find Thee,
And every string

Shall have his attribute to sing:'

And having tuned it, he played and sung:

"The Sundays of man's life,
Threaded together on Time's string,
Make bracelets to adorn the wife
Of the eternal glorious King.
On Sunday heaven's gate stands ope!
Blessings are plentiful and rife,
More plentiful than hope."

BACON.

[FRANCIS BACON is one of the most prominent names in English literature. ilis "Essays" are in the hands of many persons; his "Novum Organon" is talked of by more. He is execrated as the corrupt judge and faithless friend; he is venerated under the name of the father of the inductive philosophy. His foibles, as well as his merits, have been perhaps equally exaggerated. This is not the place to enter upon the disputed passages of his political career; nor to inquire how much he borrowed from the ancient philosophy, which he is supposed to have overturned. That he was a man, in many respects, of the very highest order of intellect no one can doubt; that he was "the wisest, greatest, meanest of mankind," may be safely disputed. It is sufficient here to mention that he was the youngest son of Sir Nicholas Bacon, Keeper of the Great Seal-was born in 1561, and died in 1626. The following extract is from his "IIistory of Henry VII." -a book much neglected, although a remarkable specimen of clear and vivid narrative, and judicious reflection. Those who desire to obtain a general knowledge of the writings of Bacon, especially with his philosophical works, cannot do better than study them in the masterly Analysis by Mr Craik, originally published in "Knight's Weekly Volume." The complete works have been produced in a new edition by Mr Spedding, upon which the editor has bestowed an amount of critical labour very rarely equalled in fulness of research and comprehensive illustration.]

This youth of whom we are now to speak was such a mercurial as the like hath seldom been known, and could make his own part if at any time he chanced to be out. Wherefore, this being

one of the strangest examples of a personation that ever was in elder or later times, it deserveth to be discovered and related at the full-although the king's manner of showing things by pieces and by dark lights hath so muffled it, that it hath been left almost as a mystery to this day.

The Lady Margaret,* whom the king's friends called Juno, because she was to him as Juno was to Eneas, stirring both heaven and hell to do him mischief, for a foundation of her particular practices against him, did continually, by all means possible, nourish, maintain, and divulge the flying opinion that Richard, Duke of York, second son to Edward the Fourth, was not murdered in the Tower, as was given out, but saved alive. For that those who were employed in that barbarous act, having destroyed the elder brother, were stricken with remorse and compassion towards the younger, and set him privily at liberty to seek his fortune.

There was a townsman of Tournay, that had borne office in that town, whose name was John Osbeck, a convert Jew, married to Catherine de Faro, whose business drew him to live for a time with his wife at London, in King Edward the Fourth's days. During which time he had a son by her, and being known in the court, the king, either out of a religious nobleness, because he was a convert, or upon some private acquaintance, did him the honour to be godfather to his child, and named him Peter. But after wards, proving a dainty and effeminate youth, he was commonly called by the diminutive of his name Peterkin or Perkin. For as for the name of Warbeck, it was given him when they did but guess at it, before examinations had been taken. But yet he had been so much talked of by that name, as it stuck by him after his true name of Osbeck was known. While he was a young child, his parents returned with him to Tournay. There he was placed in the house of a kinsman of his, called John Stenbeck, at Antwerp, and so roved up and down between Antwerp and Tournay, and other towns of Flanders for a good time, living * Sister to Edward IV., and widow of Charles le Téméraire, Duke of Bur gundy.

much in English company and having the English tongue perfect. In which time, being grown a comely youth, he was brought by some of the espials of the Lady Margaret into her presence. Who, viewing him well, and seeing that he had a face and personage that would bear a noble fortune, and finding him otherwise of a fine spirit and winning behaviour, thought she had now found a curious piece of marble to carve out an image of a Duke of York. She kept him by her a great while, but with extreme secrecy. The while she instructed him by many cabinet conferences. First, in princely behaviour and gesture, teaching him how he should keep state, and yet with a modest sense of his misfortunes. Then she informed him of all the circumstances and particulars that concerned the person of Richard, Duke of York, which he was to act, describing unto him the personages, lineaments, and features of the king and queen, his pretended parents; and of his brother and sisters, and divers others, that were nearest him in his childhood; together with all passages, some secret, some common, that were fit for a child's memory, until the death of King Edward. Then she added the par ticulars of the time from the king's death, until he and his brother were committed to the Tower, as well during the time he was abroad as while he was in sanctuary. As for the times while he was in the Tower, and the manner of his brother's death, and his own escape, she knew they were things that a very few could control. And therefore she taught him only to tell a smooth and likely tale of those matters, warning him not to vary from it. It was agreed likewise between them what account he should give of his peregrination abroad, intermixing many things which were true, and such as they knew others could testify, for the credit of the rest, but still making them to hang together with the part he was to play. She taught him likewise how to avoid sundry captious and tempting questions which were like to be asked of him. But in this she found him so nimble and shifting, as she trusted much to his own wit and readiness, and therefore laboured the less in it. Lastly, she raised his thoughts with some present rewards, and further promises, setting before him chiefly the glory