ministers, or those who attend for different reasons) in English, French, and Italian; for besides being well skilled in Greek and Latin, and the languages I have mentioned, she is mistress of Spanish, Scotch, and Dutch. Whoever speaks to her, it is kneeling; now and then she raises some with her hand. While we were there, William Slawator, a Bohemian Baron, had letters to present to her, and she, after pulling off her glove, gave him her right hand to kiss, sparkling with rings and jewels, a mark of particular favour. Wherever she turned her face as she was going along, every body fell down on their knees. The ladies of the court followed next to her, very handsome and well shaped, and for the most part dressed in white. She was guarded on each side by the Gentlemen Pensioners, fifty in number, with gilt battle-axes. In the anti-chamber next the hall, where we were, petitions were presented to her, and she received them most graciously, which occasioned the acclamation of GOD SAVE THE QUEEN ELIZABETH! She answered it with, I THANCKE YOUE MYNE GOOD PEUpel. In the chapel was excellent music; as soon as it and the service was over, which scarce exceeded half an hour, the Queen returned in the same state and order, and prepared to go to dinner.

"A gentleman entered the room bearing a rod, and along with him another bearing a table cloth, which, after they had both kneeled three times with the utmost veneration, he spread upon the table, and after kneeling again they both retired; then came two others, one with the rod again, the other with a salt-seller, a plate and bread; when they had kneeled as the others had done, and placed what was brought upon the table, they too retired with the same ceremonies performed by the first; at last came an unmarried lady, (we were told she was a Countess) and along with her a married one, bearing a tasting knife; the former was dressed in white silk, who when she had prostrated herself three times, in the most graceful manner approached the table, and rubbed the table with bread and salt, with as much awe as if the Queen had been present. When they had waited there a little while, the yeomen of the guard entered, bare headed, clothed in scarlet, with a golden rose upon their backs, bringing in at each turn a course of dishes, served in plate, most of it gilt-these dishes were received by a gentleman in the same order they were brought, and placed upon the table, while the lady taster gave to each guard a mouthful to eat of the particular dish he had brought, for fear of any poison. During the time that this guard (which consists of the tallest and stoutest men that can be found in all England, being carefully selected for this service) were bringing dinner, twelve trumpets and two kettle drums made the hall ring for half an hour together. At the end of all this ceremonial a number of unmarried ladies appeared, who with particular solemnity lifted the meat from the table, and conveyed it to the Queen's inner and more private chamber, where after she had chosen for herself, the rest goes to the ladies of the Court."

"The Queen dines and sups alone, with very few attendants; and it is very seldom that any body, foreigner or native, is admitted at that time, and then only at the intercession of somebody in power." p. 138.

This is a true Dutch painting.

Our traveller, mentioning the tower which formerly stood on London Bridge, adds a curious fact.

"Ponti Londinensi turris inedificata est, in cujus summitate reorum læsæ majestatis et patriæ proditorum capita, perticis affixa conspiciuntur, ultra triginta nos horum numeravimus. Ânno 1598." 115.

The literary reputation of this country seems to have been established among foreigners, even at this early period.

"Mira eruditissimorum virorum cum in universa Britannia, tum in hac potissimum Urbe semper extitit fertilitas, qui inter Scriptores celebratissimi enituerunt." p. 159.

At the time of Paul Hentzner's visit to London, all the six gates of the city were standing. He thus describes Ludgate :

"Ludgate, a Luddo rege, omnium antiquissima, cujus nomen etiamnum hodie, supra portum incisum extat; sive Flutgate quorundam opinione, a fluviolo subjecto, (ut porta Fluentana Roma) nunc a Regina Elisabethâ renovata, cujus statua, ab altera quoque parte videtur." 116.

Such will be the future speculations, minute descriptions, and ingenious etymologies, of antiquaries yet to come, when London becomes what Rome is.

Paul Hentzner attended Bartholomew fair, and describes the sports of the mob, and the state of the mayor, to whom he seems to look up with great reverence. It is amusing to find, that in those early times the light-fingered knights of the post were as active as in these days of crime and punishment.

"While we were at this shew (says Paul) one of our company, Tobias Solander, had his pocket picked of his purse, with nine crowns du soleil, which, without doubt, was so cleverly taken from him by an Englishman who always kept very close to him, that the Doctor did not in the least perceive it."

We wish that our traveller had said more of the theatres ; at the time he visited London, it is probable Shakespear's first productions were being daily exhibited.

"Without the city are some theatres, where English actors represent almost every day tragedies and comedies to very numerous audiences; these are concluded with excellent music, variety of dances, and the excessive applauses of those that are present."

"At these spectacles and every where else, the English are constantly smoaking tobacco in this manner: they have pipes on purpose, made of clay, into the farther end of which they put the herb, so dry that it may be rubbed into powder; and putting fire to it, they draw the smoak into their mouths, which they puff out again through their nostrils, like funnels, along with plenty of phlegm and defluxion from the head. In these theatres, fruits, such as apples, pears, and nuts,

according to the season, are carried about to be sold, as well as ale and wine." p. 132.

The following is the author's description of the manners of the English :

"The English are serious, like the Germans,-lovers of shew,liking to be followed wherever they go by whole troops of servants, who wear their master's arms in silver, fastened to their left arms, and are not undeservedly ridiculed for wearing tails hanging down their backs. They excel in dancing and music, for they are active and lively, though of a thicker make than the French: they cut their hair close on the middle of the head, letting it grow on either side: they are good sailors, and better pirates; cunning, treacherous, and thievish. Above three hundred are said to be hanged annually in London; beheading with them is less infamous than hanging. They give the wall as the place of honor. Hawking is the general sport of the gentry. They are more polite in eating than the French; devouring less bread, but more meat, which they roast in perfection. They put a good deal of sugar in their drink: their beds are covered with tapestry, even those of farmers. They are often molested with the scurvy, said to have first crept into England with the Norman conquest. Their houses are commonly of two stories, except in London, where they are of three and four, though but seldom of four; they are built of wood, those of the richer sort with bricks; their roofs are low, and, where the owner has money, covered with lead. They are powerful in the field,— successful against their enemies,-impatient of any thing like slavery,vastly fond of great noises that fill the ear, such as the firing of cannon, drums, and the ringing of bells; so that it is common for a number of them, that have got a glass in their heads, to go up into some belfry, and ring the bells for hours together, for the sake of exercise. If they see a foreigner very well made, or particularly handsome, they will say, It is a pity he is not an ENGLISHMAN." p. 156.

With the above whimsical passage, we conclude our extracts from Paul Hentzner, who has certainly noted some particulars which are not to be found elsewhere, and which are equally curious and amusing. We have only to add, that the translation we have made use of, except in one instance of mistranslation, is from the pen of Mr. R. Bentley, once the friend and favorite of Horace Walpole. It is asserted in the preface of the latter, that there are not above four or five copies of the original in England. Mr. Williams reprinted only fifty copies of Bentley's translation of the part relative to England.

ART. III. Pharonnida, a Heroic Poem, by William Chamberlayne, of Shaftesbury, in the County of Dorset.·

Ἴσκε ψεύδεα πολλὰ λέγων ἐτύμοισιν ὅμοια.

Hom. Odess. lib. 21.

Printed for Robert Clavel, at the sign of the Stag's Head, near St. Gregorie's Church, in St. Paul's Church Yard, 1659, 8vo. Pp. 371.

Whilst the stream of time carries down so many of the productions of human ingenuity into total oblivion, it deposits a few, which deserve to be kept in remembrance, upon its silent shores, where they remain until some lucky wanderer discovers, and holds them up to the admiration of the world. Long did the flower to which we now draw the attention of the public, waste its sweetness on the desert air,' before any industrious bee settled upon its leaves, and extracted a portion of its collected sweets. Until very recently indeed, it has obtained no other notice than a passing recognition of its having existed. We claim not, however, the merit of having first discovered its value; nor have we any title to be so considered, for our readers are aware, that one living author* at least has already given us such a taste of the honey, as to induce us to wish for a more copious supply. Of William Chamberlayne little more is known, than that he was a physician at Shaftesbury in the reign of Charles the First, whose cause during the civil wars he espoused; and, as is to be inferred from the conclusion of the third book, was present at the second battle of Newbery. However rich he might be in the gifts of nature, he was not very plentifully endowed with those of fortune, as we collect from the beginning of the first book, where he complains of poverty, and the bad reception his poem had met with. In the preface of the poem also he informs us, that fortune had placed him in too low a sphere to be happy in the acquaintance of the age's more celebrated wits. He died on the 11th of January, 1689, having lived to the of 70 years,

age of 70

* Mr. Campbell; who states that he has found no other mention of Chamberlayne than what is contained in Langbaine. He is, however, noticed by Winstanley, Jacob, Wood, and Grainger, but without any farther information than that he was the author of this poem, and the play mentioned in the text; and without any comment upon either.

+ His poetical labours, in all probability, suffered some interruption from his more warlike occupations, and this supposition is strengthened by the circumstance of the two last books commencing with a new paging, and being printed in a different type.

and was buried at Shaftesbury, in the church-yard of the Holy Trinity, where his son, Valentine Chamberlayne, erected a monument to his memory. Besides this poem he wrote a tragicomedy,* called "Love's Victory," which was afterwards acted under the title of "Wits led by the nose, or a Poet's Revenge." Langbaine, in his account of this play, mentions Pharonnida, adding, that though it had nothing to recommend it, yet it appeared in prose in the year 1683, as a novel, under the name of "Eromena, or the noble Stranger." We think, however, that when our readers have perused the abstract of the story which we propose to give, and the different extracts with which it will be interspersed, they will totally dissent from the judgment pronounced by this useful but tasteless author. The garb, indeed, in which the poem is clothed, is sufficiently uninviting; the materials, to be sure, are rich, but the workmanship is awkward and ungraceful. Yet notwithstanding this inauspicious covering, and the obstructions which the involved and unharmonious diction, and the poverty and insignificance of the rhyme,t present to the complete enjoyment of the poem, there is a pure and tender strain of feeling and morality, and a richness of imagery, that cannot fail to interest the heart and please the imagination of every lover of poetry. How far it is entitled to the name of a heroic poem, we leave to others to determine; but we cannot help observing, that the vigorous conception of the story, the unity and symmetry of the design, and the sustained dignity of the personages and of the sentiments, make out a claim to that title, which we are by no means inclined to dispute. The main story is carried on with deep and varied interest, and developed with great, but unequal, power; and every incident which might, by possibility, be considered as improbable, is accounted for from plausible causes, with a scrupulousness and care which is very remarkable, when contrasted with the singular carelessness which distinguishes some other parts of the poem. Upon the whole, the work is somewhat too long, arising perhaps, from the absurd and pedantic determination of the author to extend it to precisely five books, each containing the same number of cantos. In a few of the latter cantos, his muse soars with a comparatively feeble wing, but she soon resumes her vigour, and again mounts into the sublime regions of impassioned poetry. The genius of Chamberlayne, however, is rather tender and pathetic, than strong and

*Published in 1658.

To these may be added, the inaccurate printing and erroneous punctuations, which incessantly occur.