A scrutiny within myself I then Even thus began : "O Man, what art thou ?"-What more (could I say) Than dust and clay? Frail, mortal, fading, a mere puff, a blast, In a throne to-day, to-morrow in the urn; I asked myself what this great God might be I answered, The All-Potent, solely immense, Unspeakable, Inscrutable, Eternal, The only Terrible, Strong, Just, and True, He is the Well of Life, for He doth give Both breath and being: He is the Creator Earth, air, and fire: Of all things that subsist, Of all the heavenly host, or what earth claims, And now, my God, by thy illumining grace, (So far forth as it may discovered be) Methinks I see; And though invisible and infinite To human sight Thou in thy mercy, justice, truth, appearest, O make us apt to seek, and quick to find, Give us love, hope, and faith in Thee to trust, Remit all our offences, we entreat; Most good, most great! Grant that our willing though unworthy quest SIR JOHN BEAUMONT was born in 1582, not at Grace Dieu, as Wood erroneously asserts, but at Belton, in Leicestershire. His father was one of the Justices of the Common Pleas in the reign of Queen Elizabeth; and his brother was Francis Beaumont, the famous dramatic poet. He entered Broadgate's Hall, now Pembroke College, Oxford, as a gentleman commoner, in Lent term, 1596. After three years, he left the university, and became a member of one of the Inns of Court; but soon retired to his native place, where he married Elizabeth, daughter of John Fortescue, Esquire. In 1626 Charles I., then in the second year of his reign, conferred upon Beaumont the dignity of a baronetcy. Sir John died in 1628, and was buried in the church of Grace Dieu. Of the three sons whom he left behind him, John edited his father's poems, and died without issue; Francis became a Jesuit; and Thomas succeeded to the honours and estates. The death of Gervase, a child who died at the age of seven, was the subject of some pathetic verses from the pen of Sir John. "The former part of his life," says Wood, "he successfully employed in poetry, and the latter he as happily bestowed on more serious and beneficial studies: and had not death untimely cut him off in his middle age, he might have proved a patriot, being accounted at the time of his death a person of great knowledge, gravity, and worth." The longest of his miscellaneous poems is one on the battle of Bosworth Field, which, Campbell says, "may be compared with Addison's 'Campaign,' without a high compliment to either." A poem in eight books, called the "Crown of Thorns," is mentioned by his contemporaries as having been written by Sir John, but no copy is known to exist at present. As a poet, he is favourably known "as one of the earliest polishers of what is called the heroic couplet;" but the chief merit of his works lies in the fact that they are all baptized into the spirit of the Christian religion. AN ODE OF THE BLESSED TRINITY. Muse, thou art dull and weak, Thy thoughts awhile from urgent cares restrain, No cold shall thee benumb, Whose praises if thou now wilt sound aright, Whence shall we then begin To sing or write of this, Or if we enter in, Where shall we end? The end is endless bliss- For Thee our strings we touch, To whom whate'er we give, we give thine own, And yet no mortal tongue can give to Thee so much. See how in vain we try If any like, or second, were to Thee, Thy hidden nature then were not so deep and high. Here fail inferior things, The sun, whose heat and light A feeble shadow brings: The Son shows to the world his Father's might, We Now to the topless hill may behold how in our souls we bear An understanding power joined with effectual skill. We cannot higher go To search this point divine: These steps, as helps, our humble minds incline T'embrace these certain grounds which from true faith must flow. To Him these notes direct, While perfectly Himself He understands, From these, the spring of love, The Holy Ghost proceeds, Who our affection feeds With those clear flames which move From that eternal essence which them breeds, Stay, stay, Parnassian girl, White teeth, and speak of lips which rubies taint, But now thou may'st perceive Then praise with humble silence heavenly things, FRANCIS BEAUMONT, who with his fellow worker, Fletcher, produced fifty-two dramatic pieces, was a younger brother of Sir John Beaumont, the subject of the preceeding notice. He was born in 1585. From Cambridge, where he was educated, he repaired to the Inner Temple; but shere is no proof of the severity with which he prosecuted his legal studies. He married the daughter and co-heiress of Sir Henry Isley, of Kent, by whom he had two daughters; and died in March 1615, in the thirtieth year of his age. He was buried at the entrance of St. Benedict's Chapel, Westminster Abbey. As a dramatist he is beyond our purpose; but amongst his miscellaneous pieces published after his death by his brother, occur a few which make good his |