Sandys was a traveller in Turkey, Egypt, the Holy Land, and in parts of Italy; and began his journey through France, as he says, about the time that Henri Quatre was murdered by an obscure varlet." No. 38. FRANCIS QUARLES. From a scarce Print by Marshall, prefixed to his "Enchiridion." QUARLES is known chiefly by his "Emblems," which, however, we do not think the best of his poetical productions. There is much beauty in parts of his "Argalus and Parthenia," and some of his elegies have great merit:-not that he was a lofty poet, or a very free versifier; but he was an earnest writer in his way, and was occasionally very happy, and even touching in his diction. The face, here presented, of Quarles, has a pinched, but eager look; his whole figure is prim, and somewhat puritanical; his action is cramped; and his writings form, upon the whole, a good running commentary upon his portrait. The following is one of his elegies, and is admired by one of the very best judges of English literature, and our friend, to boot. We quote, once more, upon the strength of his authority, and in order to show our regard for him. The sixteenth Elegy goes to shew the impartiality of death-that he strikes the eagle, and spares the kite,—that "Queens drop away when blue-leg'd Maukin lives, And courtly Mildred dies, when country Madge survives." and the seventeenth Elegy thereupon opens thus : "Retract that word, false quill! O let mine eyes WILLIAM DRUMMOND. Our Mildred is not dead: How passion lies! Can she be dead whose conquering soul defies The bands of death, and worse than death, the fears? No, no, she sits enthron'd, and smiles to see Our childish passions; she triúmphs, while we In sorrow, blaze her death, that's death and sorrow free." 37 No. 39. WILLIAM DRUMMOND. From an original Picture in the possession of Captain Drummond. THIS is an extraordinary countenance of DRUMMOND, of Hawthornden. Yet it is open and intelligent, and there is a pyramid of forehead for the phrenologists. His dress is, in itself, an exquisite picture; indeed the eye rests upon it with at least as much pleasure as upon his face. There is great beauty in Drummond's sonnets and poems, mixed, it must be confessed, with a sufficient quantity of conceits. But he was the first Scottish poet who ever used our English language with effect, and a few faults may be forgiven him. His sonnet, beginning, "Dear wood, and you sweet solitary place," has a fine air of sylvan repose about it; and his forty-fifth sonnet, commencing "Nymphs, sister Nymphs, which haunt this chrystal brook, And happy in these floating bowers abide, Where trembling roofs of trees from sun you hide, Which make Idean woods in every crook ; Or count your loves when Thetis was a bride, Lift up your golden heads and on me look!" and others, possess great beauty and poetic feeling, with, invariably, a little alloy of conceit, as we have before stated. 38 JOHN TAYLOR. No. 40. THOMAS MAY. From a scarce Print prefixed to his "Breviarie of the History of the Par liament." THERE is a mild and even painful expression in the countenance of this writer. If his look be poetical, it speaks, assuredly, the quiet and contemplative, rather than the soaring poet. MAY is better known by his translation of Lucan than by his original verse. He reminds us occasionally of old Heywood, by the matters of fact which he details in his often unornamented verse; but sometimes, "As when fierce Rollo with his Danish flood Broke in upon thee," he betrays something of the true poetic spirit. His description of King Philip, when "Under a wealthy canopy he sate, His robe of colour like the violet," is striking, and his account of Edward the Third of England, (in his poem of that title,) is not without merit. Upon the whole, however, he wants spirit, though he has often redeeming passages. No. 41. JOHN TAYLOR. From an original Picture in the Bodleian Gallery. IN regard to the physiognomy of JOHN TAYLOR, called the Water poet, we may venture to pronounce that it did not disgrace his calling. He has a shrewd and fierce eye, and a head like a bull, and looks stout enough to have pulled a boat from Greenwich to the Nore. Taylor's inspiration sprang from all the rivers of which he knew anything, but there is no taste either of Castaly or Helicon. There is nothing, in short, poetical either in his head or his verses: nevertheless, it is a striking head, and fit for his profession. He looks like Tom Bowling, or Ben Backstay; WILLIAM CHAMBERLAYNE. 39 but without their sentiment. He would not have loved "the gentle Anna," however he might have taken a spell at "Chelsea ferry," and have become the badge and the crimson coat. No. 42. JOHN HALL. From a scarce Print prefixed to his "Hora Vacive." THE drapery and action of this portrait remind us of one of the old Roman orators; and there is a something in the eye, almost amounting to cunning, which would have sate well on an advocate of the forum. Further than this, we have nothing to say regarding this writer or his portrait. No. 43. WILLIAM CHAMBERLAYNE. From a Print by Hertocks, prefixed to his " Pharonnida." CHAMBERLAYNE, the author of "Pharonnida," (which has become lately known, in consequence of the eulogy of Mr. Campbell, and the extracts given in that very interesting publication, “The Retrospective Review,") has a serious and observing look. His hair flows down like that of Milton, but he has not the great poet's lofty and severe glance. Chamberlayne was a physician, and is said to have been at the second battle of Newbery. His works, long neglected, have now met with, at least, as much approbation as they deserve. He had not great poetical power, certainly; but there are, in his works, frequently passages of merit. His account of the morning is exceedingly good, and, as far as we recollect, new : "The sluggish morning, sick Of midnight surfeits, from her dewy bed Pale and discoloured rose."— We do not remember anything so striking, or so forcible elsewhere in the Pharonnida. 40 No. 44. LOVELACE. RICHARD LOVELACE. From an original Picture at Dulwich College. LOVELACE bears the reputation of having possessed a beautiful person: and he certainly looks like a cavalier and a gentleman. He was a poet also; and although his verses are, generally speaking, too much like those of a man who "dealt in lieutenantry," and the " squares of war;" yet there are a few really beautiful things amongst his compositions, where the gallant seems to get the better of the soldier. His lines "To Althea from prison," are among the best here are some of them. "When Love, with unconfined wings, Hovers within my gates, And my divine Althea brings To hover at my grates; When I lie tangled in her hair, And fettered to her eye, The birds that wanton in the air, Know no such liberty. "Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage; Minds innocent and quiet take That for a hermitage. If I have freedom in my love, And in my soul am free, Angels alone that soar above It is not often that a colonel, and a handsome colonel, puts forth such verses as these. His song to Amarantha "Let it [her hair] fly as unconfined, As its ravisher, the wind, Who has left his darling east, To wanton o'er this spicy nest ;" reminds one of Carew. |