practice, which occasionally resulted in a rat-hunt in the middle of service. It is well known that old S. Paul's was a fashionable promenade, the general rendezvous of the busy and the idle of all classes, who disgraced the sacred building by jests and quarrels. The number was increased by those who, having no means of procuring a dinner, affected to loiter there. From this the phrase, "dining with Duke Humphrey" originated; for in this "Powles Walke' was a huge monument of Sir John Beauchamp, buried in 1358, which, by a vulgar mistake, was called the tomb of Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, who was buried at S. Alban's. The duke had kept an open table, where any gentleman was welcome to dine; and after his death, to dine with Duke Humphrey-i.e., to loiter about his supposed tomb in S. Paul's -meant to go dinnerless. Bishop Hall, in his satires, touches upon this use to which the cathedral was put (Book III. sat. 7):

'Tis Ruffio. Trow'st thou where he din'd to-day?
In sooth I saw him sit with Duke Humphrey.
Many good welcomes, and much gratis cheer,
Keeps he for every straggling cavalier;
An open house, haunted with great resort;
Long service mix'd with musical disport.

In a humorous poem, published in 1674, by Samuel Speed, entitled, "The Legend of his Grace, Humphrey, Duke of S. Paul's Cathedral Walk, &c.," is the following passage:

Some with their beads unto a pillar crowd;
Some mutter forth, some say their graces loud;
Some on devotion came to feed their muse;
Some came to sleep, or walk, or talk of news.

Bishop Corbet, in his "Elegy on the Death of Dr. Ravis, Bishop of London," gives a still worse view of the use to which the cathedral was put:

When I past Pauls, and travell'd in that walk
Where all our Brittain-sinners swear and talk;
Old Harry-ruffians, bankrupts, soothsayers,
And youth, whose cozenage is as old as theirs.

At a later period we find a complaint with regard to new S. Paul's, which is applicable to the present as well as a past day ("Epigrams in Distich," 1740):

This is God's House; but 'tis to be deplor'd,

More come to see the house than serve its Lord.

SIR THOMAS WYAT,

Usually styled “the elder" to distinguish him from his son, who was executed for high treason in Mary's reign, was born in 1503. He was a man of many accomplishments, and was a great favourite of Henry VIII., who employed him in several embassies. He is said to have combined the wit of Sir Thomas More with the wisdom of Sir Thomas Cromwell. He died in 1541.

TO HIS LOVE, WHOM HE HAD KISSED AGAINST HER WILL.

Alas, madam, for stealing of a kiss,

Have I so much your mind therein offended?
Or have I done so grievously amiss,

That by no means it may not be amended?
Revenge you then the readiest way is this;
Another kiss, my life it shall have ended,

For to my mouth the first my heart did suck,
The next shall clean out of my breast it pluck.

Plato, in a Greek distich, thus freely rendered by Moore, expresses the effect produced by a kiss (Jacobs I. 102, ii.):

Whene'er thy nectar'd kiss I sip,

And drink thy breath in trance divine,

My soul then flutters to my lip,

Ready to fly and mix with thine.

Robert Greene, born about 1550, has a similar passage ("Lady Fitzwater's Nightingale."-Philomela's Ode):

With arms folded, and lips meeting,
Each soul another sweetly greeting!
For by the breath the soul fleeteth,
And soul with soul in kissing meeteth.

So, Massinger in "The Fatal Dowry" (Act II. sc. 2):

Breath marry breath, and kisses mingle souls,
Two hearts and bodies here incorporate!

William Habington has a pretty epigram, "Upon a Trembling Kiss at Departure," too long for insertion, but the last few lines are worth comparing with Wyat's epigram, and close with a curious conceit :

Or else you fear, lest you, should my heart skip
Up to my mouth, t' encounter with your lip,
Might roo me of it: and be judg'd in this,
T' have Judas-like betray'd me with a kiss.

JOHN HEYWOOD,

Was born at North Mims, near S. Alban's, but at what date is uncertain. He was a great favourite of Henry VIIL, and of his daughter Mary, on account of his happy talent for telling diverting stories. Upon the accession of Elizabeth, being a strict Roman Catholic, he retired to Mechlin, where he died in 1565. His epigrams on proverbs and general subjects amount to about six hundred, and were several times reprinted before the end of the 16th century. The edition from which the following are taken is that of 1576.

JACK AND HIS FATHER (1st Hundred, 25).
Jack (quoth his father), how shall I ease take?
If I stand my legs ache, and if I kneel,
My knees ache, and if I go, then my feet ache,
If I lie my back ach'th, if I sit I feel
My hips ache, and lean I never so weele,
My elbows ache: Sir, (quoth Jack) pain to exile,
Since all these ease not, best ye hang awhile.

TWO WISHERS FOR TWO MANNER OF MOUTHS
(1st Hundred, 83).

"I wish thou hadst a little narrow mouth, wife,
"Little and little to drop out words in strife !”
"And I wish you, sir, a wide mouth, for the nonce,
"To speak all that ever you shall speak at once!"

The life of this wishing couple seems to have been much like that which was led by the husband and wife whom Martial celebrates (Book VIII. 35). The translation is by Relph:

Alike in temper and in life,

The crossest husband, crossest wife:

It looks exceeding odd to me,

This well-match'd pair can disagree.

A thought which has been humorously expanded by Ben Jonson

(Ep. 42):

Who says that Giles and Joan at discord be?

Th' observing neighbours no such mood can see.
Indeed, poor Giles repents he married ever;
But that his Joan doth too.

And Giles would never

By his free will be in Joan's company;

No more would Joan he should. Giles riseth early,

And having got him out of doors is glad;
The like is Joan. But turning home is sad;
And so is Joan. Oft-times, when Giles doth find
Harsh sights at home, Giles wisheth he were blind;
All this doth Joan. Or that his long-yearn'd life
Were quite outspun; the like wish hath his wife.

OF PRIDE (5th Hundred, 42).

If thou wilt needs be proud, mark this, friend mine;
Of good deeds be not proud, they are not thine:
But when thou playest the knave, in ill deeds grown,
Be proud of those ill deeds; they are thine own.

A Latin distich by Nicholas Baxius is similar to the first part of this epigram, though its teaching differs from the latter part. The translation is by James Wright ("Delitiæ Delitiarum," 225):

Boast not thy actions; for if bad they be,

No praise is due; if good, none's due to thee.

OF TONGUE AND WIT (6th Hundred, 33).
Thou hast a swift running tongue; howbeit,
Thy tongue is nothing so quick as thy wit:
Thou art, when wit and tongue in running contend,
At thy wits' end ere thou be at thy tale's end.

Prior has an epigram of similar character, on one whose pen ran faster than his wit:

While faster than his costive brain indites,
Philo's quick hand in flowing letters writes;
His case appears to me like honest Teague's
When he was run away with by his legs.
Phoebus, give Philo o'er himself command;
Quicken his senses or restrain his hand;
Let him be kept from paper, pen, and ink;
So he may cease to write, and learn to think.

JOHN HOPKINS-LADY CATHERINE KILLIGREW.

JOHN HOPKINS,

171

Who after Sternhold's death finished the metrical version of the Psalms, which that lugubrious poet had left incomplete, was born about 1525, and is supposed to have been a clergyman of Suffolk, but nothing is known of his life.

TO MR. THOMAS STERNHOLD, ON THE KING'S OFFERING ("The Honeysuckle," 1734, 88).

From ancient custom 'tis (they say)
Our most religious king

Does annually upon Twelfth-day,
Unto the altar bring,

Gold, myrrh, and frankincense, I ween
They do devolve by right,

Unto the royal chapel's dean

A certain perquisite;

Now, what I'd know is this,-pray tell
In your opinion, sir,

Which to the dean does sweetest smell,
Gold, frankincense, or myrrh.

LADY CATHERINE KILLIGREW.

Sir Anthony Coke, who had been tutor to Edward VI., was especially happy in his daughters, who were distinguished for their amiable qualities and unusual learning. Sir Henry Killigrew, who had married the third daughter, Lady Catherine (born about 1530), was to be despatched as ambassador to Paris by Queen Elizabeth, an office at that time of difficulty and some danger. His wife sent the following lines to her eldest sister, Lady Mildred, who had married the Lord Chancellor Burleigh, begging her interest to cause the appointment to be cancelled. The original is in Latin. The translation, which singularly well preserves the epigrammatic point, is by Fuller, the author of the "British Worthies" (Fuller's "Worthies "):

If, Mildred, by thy care, he be sent back, whom I request,
A sister good thou art to me, yea better, yea the best.
But if with stays thou keep'st him, or send'st where seas
may part,

Then unto me a sister ill, yea worse, yea none thou art.