extracts from the Journal of our traveller, chiefly descriptive of his visit to Constantinople, and the places which he saw in his journey thither. From these, it appears that he traversed with delight the classical shores of Greece. Of his route to the Mogul's court, Purchas has not given any account from the MSS.

We have now arrived at the melancholy termination of all poor Coryate's leg-stretching labours, which we find related in the Voyage of the Rev. Edward Terry, Chaplain to Sir Thomas Rowe, Ambassador to the Great Mogul, with whom our author spent some time as his chamber-fellow and tent-mate. The first symptoms of his illness appeared at Mandoa. Being one day in the company of the ambassador and his friend Terry, and leaning against a stone pillar, he suddenly fell into such a swoon that he was with much difficulty brought to his recollection. This attack, probably produced by over exertion and fatigue, for he had performed nearly the whole of his oriental journey on foot, he attributed to "certain sad thoughts" which had immediately before presented themselves to his fancy. He told his friends that there were great expectations formed in England of the large accounts he should give of his travels after he returned home, and that he was determined to proceed to Surat, a place which he had never yet visited. Sir Thomas Rowe wished him to remain until his health was restored; an offer which he refused with many thanks, and proceeded, as usual, alone. He accomplished his journey to Surat, about three hundred miles distant, where he met with some of his countrymen, who, out of over kindness to him, pressed him to drink of some sack which they had brought with them from England. Our weary traveller, remembering, no doubt, the pleasant potations to which he had been accustomed amongst his Sireniacal friends in Bread-street, no sooner heard the name than he exclaimed, "Sack, sack, is there any such thing as sack? I pray you, give me some sack." The moderate draught which he took of this liquor aggravated a bowel complaint, with which he had been attacked, and he died within a few days afterwards, in the month of December, 1617. "Sic exit Coryatus!" says his friend Terry. "Hence he went off the stage, and so must all after him, how long soever their parts seem to be for if one should go to the extremest part of the world east, another west, another north, and another south, they must all meet at last together in the field of bones, wherein our traveller hath now taken up his lodging, and where I leave him."

Some idea of the character of Coryate, as a traveller and an author, may be collected from what has been already said. In addition, it may be observed, that he combined many of the most essential requisites of a good traveller. He was laborious, abstemious, patient, prudent, and inquisitive; and, to crown all,

he had that perfect love of the pursuit, which is in every case
the great incentive to excellence. To counterbalance these ad-
vantages, he appears not to have possessed a very vigorous
mind, or to have been gifted by nature with a large propor-
tion of strong common sense, which is, after all, a very neces-
sary ingredient in the character of a traveller. The powers of
his memory seem to have greatly transcended those of his
judgement, which invariably gave way before the influence of
his vanity. His skill in the acquisition of languages enabled
him to visit any part of the globe, and he wisely accommodated
himself in other respects to the manners and habits of the dif-
ferent countries through which he passed. His value as an au-
thor, both with regard to his style and matter, is more question-
able. He is generally quaint and affected, sometimes even to a
ridiculous excess. His orations before the royal family are
perfect patterns of the bombastic, and would do infinite honour
to "
Master Rhombus," the schoolmaster as described by Sir
Philip Sidney. His Crudities are chiefly valuable from their
conveying the ideas of an Englishman on the state of the va-
rious countries of Europe, two centuries ago, and also from the
minute descriptions which they contain of antiquities and other
matters of curiosity. We shall now take leave of "the obser-
vative and long-winded gentleman, Thomas Coryate," in the
words of Sir Dudley Digges :-

Ingenium liber iste tuum Coriate sepultum
Continet, inde petat qui caret ingenio.

ART. III.-Poems by Thomas Carew, Esquire, one of the Gentlemen of the Privy-Chamber, and Sewer in ordinary to His Majesty. London, 1640, small 8vo.

Thomas Carew, a courtier in the service of Charles the First, distinguished for his gentlemanly manners and pleasant wit, was much esteemed for his success in the conventional poetry, adopted by the gentlemen and poets of that time for the expression of love. To the characteristics of this species of composition, we have more than once had occasion to allude, and we shall not, therefore, now enter upon the farther discussion of them. Carew excels his contemporaries in the grace and harmony of his verse, and his poetry is less disfigured by cold and frivolous conceits; at the same time, it must be allowed, that there is hardly a single poem which does not contain one of these glittering icicles. The merits of this author

have, we think, been considerably over-rated. He possesses few of the higher qualities of the poet-we meet with little to interest the imagination, or engage the feelings indeed, we are almost inclined to doubt whether his poetry ever touched the heart of a single reader, even when set off with all the charms which the musical talents of the two Laws could communicate to it. Perhaps we ought to except the Epitaph on Lady Mary Villiers. Two of the most tender and graceful pieces in the collection, The Primrose and The Enquiry, erroneously ascribed to Carew, were written by Herrick, who, as we have elsewhere said, is infinitely superior to him as a lyric poet. Carew's poetry is easy, graceful, and gentlemanly -the versification varied and well modulated, and the sentiments fanciful and ingenious. The indelicacy of many parts of his compositions make this volume unfit for general perusal, and peculiarly appropriate for our purpose; and we shall therefore, without farther preface, proceed to the business of extracting such parts as are deserving of being separated from the rest, and presented to the public.

The two following songs are distinguished for the elegance and amenity of the versification.

"Would you know what's soft? I dare
Not bring you to the down or air;
Nor to stars to show what's bright,
Nor to snow to teach you white.

Ask me no more whither doth haste
The nightingale when May is past;
For in your sweet dividing throat,
She winters and keeps warm her note.

Ask me no more, if east or west
The Phoenix builds her spicy nest;
For unto you at last she flies,

And in your fragrant bosom dies."

The following two stanzas of the piece, entitled "Disdaine returned," are both poetical in expression and fine în sentiment.

"He that loves a rosy cheek,
Or a coral lip admires,

Or from star-like eyes doth seek,
Fuel to maintain his fires;
As old Time makes these decay,
So his flames must waste away.
But a smooth and stedfast mind,
Gentle thoughts, and calm desires,
Hearts, with equal love combin'd,
Kindle never dying fires.
Where these are not, I despise

Lovely cheeks, or lips, or eyes."

We think, however, that Carew's elegiac poems and epitaphs are perhaps the best of his compositions. There is considerable poetical merit in the "Obsequies to the Lady Anne Hay.”

"I heard the virgin's sigh, I saw the sleek
And polish'd courtier channel his fresh cheek
With real tears; the new-betrothed maid
Smil'd not that day; the graver senate laid
Their business by; of all the courtly throng,

Grief seal'd the heart, and silence bound the tongue.

I that ne'er more of private sorrow knew

Than from my pen some froward mistress drew,
And for the public woe had my
dull sense

So sear❜d with ever adverse influence,
As the invader's sword might have, unfelt,
Pierc'd my dead bosom, yet began to melt:
Grief's strong instinct did to my blood suggest,
In the unknown loss, peculiar interest.
But when I heard the noble Carlil's gem,
The fairest branch of Dennye's ancient stem

Was from that casket stolen, from this trunk torn,
I found just cause why they, why I, should mourn.
But who shall guide my artless pen, to draw
Those blooming beauties which I never saw?
How shall posterity believe my story,
If I, her crowded graces, and the glory
Due to her riper virtues, shall relate
Without the knowledge of her mortal state?
Shall I, as once Apelles, here a feature,
There steal a grace, and rifling so whole Nature
Of all the sweets a learned eye can see,
Figure one Venus, and say, such was she?
Shall I her legend fill with what of old
Hath of the worthies of her sex been told,
And what all pens, and times, to all dispense,
Restrain to her by a prophetic sense?

Or shall I, to the moral and divine

Exactest laws, shape by an even line

A life so straight, as it should shame the square
Left in the rules of Katherine, or Clare,

And call it hers; say, so did she begin,

And had she liv'd, such had her progress been?
These are dull ways, by which base pens, for hire,
Daub glorious vice, and from Apollo's quire
Steal holy ditties, which prophanely they
Upon the hearse of every strumpet lay.

We will not bathe thy corpse with a forc'd tear,
Nor shall thy train borrow the blacks they wear:
Such vulgar spice and gums embalm not thee,
Thou art the theme of truth, not poetry.
Thou shalt endure a trial by thy peers;
Virgins of equal birth, of equal years,
Whose virtues held with thine an emulous strife,
Shall draw thy picture, and record thy life.
One shall ensphere thine eyes, another shall
Impearl thy teeth; a third, thy white and small
Hand shall besnow; a fourth, incarnadine
Thy rosy cheek, until each beauteous line,
Drawn by her hand, in whom that part excels,
Meet in one centre, where all beauty dwells.
Others in task shall thy choice virtues share,
Some shall their birth, some their ripe growth declare
Though niggard Time left much unhatch'd by deeds,
They shall relate how thou hadst all the seeds