scriptions are not often to be depended into his mind before which his soul upon; but this tombstone is as much a trembled. They pointed to erring wisverity as the man whom it commemo- dom in order to elevate infallible authorates. Andrew Marvell was one of the rity. They worked on the modest sense worthiest of the old English worthies. of his own weakness, to induce him to The friend of Oliver Cromwell and of repose upon the bosom of the Church John Milton, he shared the firm ad- which had endured for ages. They herence to a settled purpose of the one, painted the new form of worship as a and the stern truthfulness of the other, dark cloud which would pass away from to which he added those lighter quali- the sky of faith and leave it bright and ties which make men as lovable in serene as ever; and they appealed to private life as high virtue makes them the chivalrous feeling of which he was estimable in public. full, colouring the sacrifice which would It is worth while to try to look into attend a change of religion, with the the heart of such a man; to know what tinge of noble self-devotedness to right. he thought and how he lived-to dis-It was probably this last consideration tinguish from the broad stream of life which proved most effective. Not that the current of his existence, and to Andrew Marvell had not doubts as to trace in the great web of history the the paths in which he was treading. threads which he wove into it. To Every earnest, inquiring spirit has had begin at the beginning, then, ANDREW them. Few who have thought on such MARVELL was born at Kingston-upon- subjects, but have propounded quesHull, in the year 1620. His parents tions to their own hearts to which they were in good circumstances, and his could give no satisfactory answer. Few boyhood passed off without distinction. but have shrunk before the mysteries Quick, versatile, and playful, he passed hidden among Revelation, and longed through the earlier stages of education for some oracle which could not err, to with credit, but without exciting suspi- interpret their hidden meaning. But, in cion of coming greatness. The first his case, we refer the success of the folstage of learning passed, Andrew Mar-lowers of Loyola rather to that charm vell, at the age of eighteen, entered Tri- which self-sacrifice has for the impulsive nity College. At this time, the clergy and generous; for it was certain that of the Romish Church had somewhat Marvell's change was one resting upon revived from the stunning-blow they sentiment rather than upon reason. received at their overthrow. They The conversion of the young proselyte looked for brighter times, when kings was not made public. It was the policy should bow their heads beneath the pas- of the Jesuits to work in the dark, and toral crook, and princes walk bare- to keep the results of their efforts secret headed in their processions. With that till they had gathered power enough to startling vitality which has ever marked brave the Protestant spirit of England. the propagandists of that faith, abro- Young Marvell silently left the college, gated by our forefathers, they had risen abandoned his studies, and entered upon from their defeat like a cork, for a mo- the discipline of the order. Upon how ment submerged by the whelming fine a thread hang the destinies of indiwaves. With that persevering, self-de-viduals and of the world. When Cromvoting energy which has ever charac- well had embarked on board a ship in terized their efforts, they were seeking the Thames to join the pilgrim fathers to weave their meshes round the young minds of the age. Moving stealthily, under one disguise or another, the Jesuits were in the universities spreading their snares around. The agents of this society fastened upon Andrew Marvell; and, in youth, his was a nature fitted for them to act upon. Joined to a clear intellect he had a sensitive temperament and an impulsive nature. His devo tional feelings were strong, and his poetic instincts led him to love that which was venerable. Young, ardent, and inexperienced, they infused doubts

of America, if Charles had suffered that then obscure man to depart in peace, he might never have bared his neck to the axe at Whitehall. If Marvell's father had not sought him out and found him among the neophytes of Rome, instead of standing in the front of freedom's battle, he would have wasted his energies in the ineffectual attempt to rechain the liberated souls of men. Thus it is that small circumstances are to great events, what the rudder is to the shipthey serve to guide the bark of time over the ocean of progress.

T

day only illustrate the adage, that, "there is nothing new under the sun.' The Abbot de Manitan, of Paris, like the gentlemen and ladies of to-day who discover firmness in a down-stroke, instability in an up-stroke, and levity in a long-tailed letter, pretended to prognosticate people's dispositions from their hand-writings, and Marvell lashed him much as the satirical writers of Punch do the impostors of our own day.

Great was the grief of old Marvell, at | escaped. This satire was followed by Hull, over the loss of his son, and another, also upon an ecclesiastic. The earnest were the efforts made to track him pursuits of the graphiologists of our out. At last a clue was discovered and the father proceeded to the place of his concealment. It does not seem that any stern exercise of parental authority was necessary to reclaim the youth. Andrew had already learned a lesson which told upon his future life. He had been taught that in his new vocation, he must smother those deep sentiments which bound him to his kind, and make the human bond of sympathy which binds man to man, an instrument to serve a coldly-calculated end. He had found too that to be rid of doubt he must give up freedom; that when he exchanged half-darkened reason for blind faith, he must cease to think. The safety that was offered to him was in a dungeon without light, and his was a mind to prefer danger beneath the open sky. In fact, he was disenchanted of the romance which prompted his change. He was like the traveller who looks from a distance upon the mountains bounding the horizon. They are tinged with the blue of the firmament. The setting sun casting on them his slanting rays bathes them in liquid gold. They seem an earthly paradise. He reaches them, and instead of verdant dells and embowered groves, vast chasms yawn and jagged peaks raise up their barren heads. He learns that imagination clothes the remote with unreal attractiveness.

So young Marvell had seen both aspects. He had been drawn through distance and repelled by closeness. He left the Jesuits without a pang, and, like a man who wakes from a benumbing dream, returned to his old studies with an added zest. His college course ended, young Marvell went upon the Continent to enlarge his knowledge of men and manners. It is believed that it was in Italy he first met Milton, and began that friendship which lasted throughout his life. The first literary event of Marvell's life took place in Rome, and it serves to show that he had become more than indifferent to the Jesuits; that he was inimical to them. His first effort was a satire upon Richard Flecknoe, an English Jesuit of some notoriety. It is a critique full of pungent humour and biting sarcasm, and at once gained for him the undying enmity of those from whose toils he had

At this period there is a dark space in the life of Marvel. For some years we know nothing certain of him. An uncertain rumour fills up the blank by saying that he accompanied a mission to the Turks, as secretary, but reliable evidence is wanting. What is known is that he reappeared in 1653, when he was appointed tutor to Cromwell's nephew, and in 1657 was advanced to the post of Latin secretary to the pretender. Shortly after this Andrew Marvell may be said to have commenced his public life. In 1658, when he was thirtyeight years old, he was elected to represent his native town in Parliament, and now having fairly got him upon the open stage of life, let us try to realize what manner of man he was, both physically and intellectually. Nature had written her letter of recommendation upon his person. His appearance was altogether in his favour. With a thin graceful figure, he had a handsome face. The brow was open. The nose and chin classic and finely cut. The mouth softly sensuous, rather than firm; the dark eyes bright and full of vivacity; the dark hair in keeping with a clear brown complexion, curled gracefully down to his shoulders. In him there was perceived none of those tokens of stern determination which sits on the rugged features of Cromwell; none of that rigid self-command, which marks the intellectually beautiful face of Milton. He had not

That vast girth of chest and limb, assigned So oft to those who subjugate their kind. The body was, as it often is, the correct indicator of the nature of the mind it enshrined-He gained much of the harder portions of his character from the circumstances in which he was placed. His was no hand to lift itself first against a monarchy. His was a mind which sought for gradual reform

And there are some other lines which seem to settle a disputed point in history, about which rival writers are even now contending. When Charles escaped to Carisbrooke Castle, and these fell into the hands of an adherent of the Protector's, it is asserted on one hand that Cromwell so intrigued as to give the King an opportunity of ap

rather than violent revolution. He looked to gentle means rather than to force, and had it not been that there was at the bottom of his kindly nature a fixed regard for right, he would have been more likely to have clung to the fallen fortunes of the monarchy, than the rising hopes of the Republic. That which stronger men regarded as capable of being prevented, he some-parently escaping, and so planned as times regarded with the eye of the fatalist as inevitable, and thought, to quote his own words,

"Tis madness to resist or blame
The face of angry Heaven's flame.
But though he could not have emu-
lated Cromwell's deeds, and would not
have imitated them if he could, he looked
with that admiration which most men
accord to the powerful, as one who

Could by industrious valour climb
To ruin the great work of time,
And cast the kingdoms old

Into another mould.

He evidently views strength as the ar-
biter, when he says,

Though justice against fate complain,
And plead the ancient rights in vain;
But those do hold or break

As men are strong or weak.

And looks upon its successes as a con-
sequence of incurring natural law-

Nature, that hateth emptiness,
Allows of penetration less,

And therefore must make room
Where greater spirits come.

Apart from this, however, he regarded the triumph of Republican principles as the triumph of right, and while he looked upon the death of the First Charles as necessary, accorded to the fallen monarch his pity and respect.

He nothing common did or mean,
Upon that memorable scene;

But with his keener eye,
The axe's edge did try:

Nor called the gods, with vulgar spite,
To vindicate his helpless right!

But bowed his comely head
Down, as upon a bed.

If we may take Marvell's ode on
Cromwell's return from Ireland, from
which we have quoted, as an authority,
we may presume that in some minds
there was an expectation that Cromwell
would "the sword of the Lord and
carry
of Gideon" into other countries, in de-
fence of the persecuted Protestants.

As Cæsar, he, ere long, to Gaul,

To Italy as Hannibal,

And to all states not free,

Shall climacteric be,

that he should be led to direct his flight
to Carisbrooke, where preparations were
already made for his capture. The mo-
tive assigned is that he wished to irri-
tate the army and the nation against
Charles. On the other side the tale is
regarded as a fabrication, not to be
Whichever may be true, Marvell who
charged against Cromwell's memory.
was in the secret of the time, gives ground
for inferring the truth of the accusation.
In the same poem (referring to Cromwell)
he says-

And Hampton shows what part
He had of wiser art;

Where twining subtle fears with hope,
He wove a net of such a scope,

That Charles himself might chase
To Carisbrooke's narrow case.

That hence the royal actor borne,
The tragic scaffold might adorn,

While round the armed bands
Did clap their bloody hands.
Here then we have an avowal, in
poetry it is true-but still an express
avowal by a republican, who was at
once Cromwell's Latin Secretary, ad-
mirer, and friend, that he prompted
Charles to escape so that he might come
to the block. That one would think
would almost suffice to settle the con-
troversy. The admirers of Cromwell
will regret to see this dark stain of
treachery fixed upon his character, but
regard for historic truth is of more
consequence than partiality for an in-
dividual, however great he may be.

We have already said that Marvell was sent to parliament in 1658, and with the exception of three years, when he was Secretary to the Embassy to Russia, he continued to represent Hull till 1675, when the parliament was prorogued. It was not until after the death of Cromwell and the restoration of the monarchy, that Marvell's true character fully shone out. Then, when so many of the adherents of the Protector paid their court to the restored Prince, his consistency would not allow him to change, nor his integrity to deny, the principles he con

he went on as he had begun, claiming religious liberty for all, denouncing the excise, which he alleged was fettering industry and enterprise, and demanding that parliaments should be held frequently and the people fairly represented. In the reaction of that period, when the strictness of puritanism had given way to the gross demoralization of an age without faith, it is owing mainly to Andrew Marvell that any traces of public or private morality were preserved. And his example was all the more effectual as he was devoid of that overstraining pretension to sanctity and affectation of austerity of life, which had done so much to bring discredit upon puritanism.

scientiously held. He was as he had Charles's extravagant expenditure left been a republican, and despite the dan-him to spare, £1,000 was found to bribe ger of persecution and a threatened as- Marvell. The Treasurer went with it sassination, he gloried in and avowed where he lodged at the top of a house the fact, and stood boldly forth for the down a court in the Strand, and placed people's rights. Macaulay speaks bit- it before him. Marvell was poor, he terly of that time as "a day of servi- had that very morning been compelled tude without loyalty, and sensuality to borrow a guinea of a friend-to satisfy without love, of dwarfish talents and present necessities. What comforts and gigantic vices, the paradise of cold luxuries there were in that heap of gold. hearts and narrow minds, the golden But no, his virtue was not to be shaken age of the coward, the bigot, and the slave. The principles of liberty were the scoff of every grinning courtier and the Anathema Marantha of every fawning dean." In bright relief against the dark background of this pandemonium stands the figure of Andrew Marvell in bright relief, looking at the darkness of the period, he seems like one of a few, very few, glorious stars gemming a sky of murky blackness. His adherence to his principles rebuked the political corruption which festered around him, and the blameless purity of his life cast added shame upon the hideous profligacy which, nurtured in the court, spread downward, demoralizing all ranks. He fully deserved the name he won, of the "British Aristides." The boldness with which he reproved wrong in the highest quarter, and incurred no small danger, may be inferred from the fact that the finest of his satirical writings is a parody on the speeches of Charles II., in which he exposed, with no sparing hand, and in no measured terms, the private vices of the king, and his gross violation of public pledges. Most other men would have suffered for this, but Marvell had a personal as well as political interest. The elegance of his manners, the amiability of his demeanour, his polished wit, and his finished education, procured for him consideration and respect even from a debauched king and a profligate court, and though Charles deeply felt the sting of his pen, he could do nothing but join in the laugh against himself.

Marvell was not, however, suffered to pursue his honest course unmolested. What those whom he opposed dare not compass by persecution was attempted by temptation. Many efforts were made to win him over. The king complimented him, Rochester praised him, the frail beauties of the courts offered him their blandest smiles and their most honied flatteries, but "Aristides" was proof against all. Little money as

As a controversialist, Marvell was perhaps in his day held in higher estimation than Milton himself. It is possible that, while he never neglected principle, he dealt in a spirit of biting satire with the men he opposed. The satirist seldom lives much beyond his own age, because the persons whom he satirizes are forgotten, and his gibes lose the application which gives them point. The game of the controversialist is often equally short lived, but the pamphlets of Milton have, apart from their immediate objects, so much dignity of style and depth of argument, bearing upon the highest principles, that the world is not likely to let them die. One of Marvell's works of that kind is still, however, much admired. Dr. Parker, the high churchman, who led the persecution of the non-conformists, supported the power of Government to stereotype a faith, and impose it upon a people on the ground that "princes may with less hazard give liberty to men's vices and debaucheries than to their consciences." Marvell answered this with a cutting satire. The Dr. replied, and the reply drew forth a rejoinder in which, while the argument was completely disposed of, the poor Doctor was handled with such savage wit, that he was glad to retire

Partridge and Oakey, Printers, Paddington.