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PUBLISHED BY THE EDITOR AT

GREAT FENCOTE, NEAR BEDALE, YORKS.

1900.

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Introduction.

I. BIOGRAPHICAL.

RICHARD CRASHAW was the son of the Reverend William Crashaw, B.D., by his first wife, and was born in London, 1612-13. The precise date of his birth it is impossible to ascertain, and the known facts of his life are few. He was admitted to the University of Cambridge at the age of eighteen, that is, about the year 1630, and elected a scholar of Pembroke Hall, so his biographer Willmott informs us, March 26, 1632. He took the degree B.A., in 1634, the same year publishing his first volume, a collection of Latin Epigrams, and other poems, which was inscribed to Benjamin Laney, the 'Master of Pembroke Hall. A studious, poetical, and religious life he led at the University, and spent several hours a day in the quietude of St. Mary's Church. the Temple of God, under His wing, he led his life, in St. Mary's Church, near St. Peter's College: there he lodged under Tertullian's roof of angels; there he made his nest more gladly than David's swallow near the house of God, where, like a primitive saint, he offered more prayers in the night than others usually offer in the day." (Preface to Steps to the Temple, 1646.)

"In

In November, 1636, he passed to Peterhouse, of which he was made a Fellow in 1637, and Master of Arts in

1638, with a view of entering Holy Orders. He soon became a powerful preacher, his high and rich qualities, and his enthusiasm, abundantly evident in all his writings, rendering him an effective and popular religious teacher.

The year

But troublous days were fast approaching. 1644 saw the University of Cambridge converted into a garrison for the Parliament. Many members refused to subscribe to the Covenant, our Poet amongst the number, the result being that he was ejected from his Fellowship. His University friends included William Herrys, whose early death he mourned in several Epitaphs; Robert Brook, also the subject of an Epitaph; Robert Shelford; James Staninough, upon whose death he wrote an elegy; and Beaumont, the author of the now well-nigh forgotten poem, Psyche, and Abraham Cowley, the Poet. John Selden, of Table-talk fame, and the Countess of Denbigh were also of his acquaintance.

Crashaw soon after his ejection seceded from the Protestant Church and retired to France. His friend Cowley, who was in the French capital in 1646, as secretary to Lord Jermyn, found him in great poverty at that time. The Queen of Charles the first was then an exile in Paris, and it is said that Cowley, or Dr. Gough and Mr. Car, introduced our Poet to the Queen, from whom he received letters of recommendation to Italy, where he became secretary at Rome to Cardinal Palotta. He probably remained in Rome until 1650, when, having

by his plain speech in regard to certain ecclesiastics made his position an uncomfortable one, he was transferred to the Lady-Chapel of Loretto, of which he was made Canon, by the worthy Cardinal. He died of fever after but a few weeks' residence, and was buried there within the Chapel, in 1650.

One of the finest poetical productions of Cowley was written upon the death of his friend, and with a portion of that melodious utterance we conclude this section of our Introduction.

"How well (blest Swan) did Fate contrive thy death,

And made thee render up thy tuneful breath

In thy great Mistress' Arms? Thou most divine
And richest offering of Loretto's shrine !

Where, like some holy sacrifice t' expire,

A fever burns thee, and Love lights the fire.
Angels (they say) brought the famed chapel there,
And bore the sacred load in triumph through the air :
'Tis surer much they brought thee there; and they,
And thou, their charge, went singing all the way.

Pardon, my Mother-Church, if I consent
That Angels led him, when from thee he went ;
For even in error, sure no danger is,

When joined with so much piety as his.

His Faith, perhaps, in some nice tenets might
Be wrong, his Life, I'm sure, was in the right.
Hail, Bard triumphant! and some care bestow
On us, the Poets militant below.

I ask but half thy mighty spirit for me:

And when my Muse soars with so strong a wing,

'Twill learn of things divine, and first of thee to sing."
On the Death of Mr. Crashaw.

(Cowley's Works, 1680 edition, pp. 29-30)

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