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On the fifth of November, his remains were landed at Tower-Hill, London, and conveyed to the Minories in Aldgate, where they lay in state; and, on the sixteenth of February following, they were interred in St. Paul's Cathedral. To a pillar in the choir was appended a tablet, with the subjoined inscription:

"England, Netherland, the heavens, and the arts,
The soldiers, and the world, have made six parts
Of the noble Sidney: for none will suppose,
That a small heap of stones can Sidney enclose.
His body hath England, for she jt bred;
Netherlands his blood, in her defence shed;
The heavens have his soul, the arts his fame;
All soldiers the grief, the world his good name." *

Never, says Dr. Zouch, was the Italian adage more strongly verified;

Chi semina virtu fama raccoglie.

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The venerable Camden has happily portrayed the pre-eminence of his character. Philip Sidney, not to be omitted here without an unpardonable crime, the great glory of his family, the great hopes of mankind, the most lively patron of virtue, and the darling of the world, nobly engaging the enemy at Zutphen in Guelderland, lost his life bravely and valiantly. This is that Sidney, whom as Providence seems to have sent into the world to give the present age a specimen of the ancients, so did it on a sudden recall him and snatch him from us, as more worthy of heaven than of earth. Thus when virtue is come to perfection, it presently leaves us, and the best things are seldom lasting. Rest then in peace, O Sidney, if I may be allowed this address. We will

* From a French epigram on Bonnivet by Isaac du Bellay.

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not celebrate thy memory with tears, but with admiration. Whatever we loved in thee (as the best author speaks of the best governor of Britain) whatever we admired in thee, continues and will continue in the memories of men, the revolutions of ages, and the annals of time. Many, as inglorious and ignoble, are buried in oblivion; but Sidney shall live to all posterity.'* For, as the Greek poet has it, Virtue's beyond the reach of Fate.""

Neither has this English Petrarch,' as Ralegh termed him, this warbler of poetic prose,' as he is stiled by Cowper, lacked abundance of later panegyrists. Ben Jonson observes, "Sir Philip Sidney and Mr. Hooker, in different matters, grew masters of wit and language, and in whom all vigour of invention and strength of judgement met." Sir Henry Wotton, in his Elements of Architecture,' has defined his wit to be, "the very essence of congruity." Oldham, in his Satire dissuading from poetry,' matches him with the Scipios and Mecænases of ancient Rome, for his patronage of poets. By Sir William Temple he is denominated, "the greatest poet and the noblest genius of any, that have left writings in our own or any modern language." Thomson, in his Summer,' pronounces him,

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"The plume of war! with early laurels crown'd,
The lover's myrtle, and the poet's bay."

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And the noble historian of Henry II. has placed in parallel with him Bayard, the chevalier without fear and without reproach' (decidedly however his inferior in statesmanship, elegance, and literature), as jointly con

* Tacit. Jul. Agric. Vit. ad fin. The Greek allusion is to an Epigram by Julianus Ægyptius.

tending for the prize of fame in the school of chivalry.* By the rival pens of Mason and Warton, in their antagonist poems 'Isis' and the Triumphs of Isis,' he is equally classed among the "leaders of the patriot line:" and of learned foreigners, Lambertus Danæus, Scipio Gentilis, Justus Lipsius, Theophilus Banosius, and the celebrated Giordano Bruno did themselves the honour to dedicate to him portions of their works; while Hakluyt inscribed with the same protecting name his first collection of Voyages and Discoveries, printed in 1582.

With a view to procure for him the scarcest and choicest volumes upon all subjects, his agents attended the annual fairs held at Leipsic, Frankfort, and other places on the continent. This collection, by his will, he divided between his two worthy friends and fellow-poets,' Sir Fulke Greville and Mr. Edward Dyer.

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His occasional motto, Vix ea nostra voco,'† drew the following lines from Simon Huseus, preserved in the Oxford Peplus' dedicated to his memory: "Cùm stirpem referas illustrem, die Philippe,

Et magnos atavos conspicuamque domum ;
Cùm sint nobilium tibi clara insignia avorum
Antiquumque genus, vix ea nostra vocas? ›
Insignis quibus ergò studes insignibus esse?

Unde tuos titulos, stemmataque unde trahis?
An studium, mores, pietatem, fortia facta,

Virtutem et mentis munera, ' nostra' vocas?

* With these a third has occasionally been combined, Edward the Black Prince. Lyttelton has suggested a second parallel for Sidney in Lord Herbert of Cherbury.

Another, subjoined to the device of the unebbing Caspian, by which he expressed a mind free from the turbulence of passion and a steady perseverance in duty, was Sine refluxu; a third, Aut viam inveniam, aut faciam; and a fourth, adopted at the tourney of 1581, indicating his disavowal of all selfishness, Sic vos non vobis.

Quæ tu' nostra' vocas, ea sunt divina, Philippe ;
Nec meliora illis dicere nostra' potes."*

The elegance, in short, of his manners, the versatility of his genius adapting itself to the acquisition of universal knowledge, his unbounded munificence, his amiable demeanor in domestic life, his tender sympathy with the protestant victims of Spanish tyranny, the general suavity of his disposition, an experience far above his years, his invincible patience under the acutest suffering-all these qualities will endear his name to future ages. Whatever applause is claimed for his genius and his erudition, much more is due to the unsullied purity of his manners, and the perfect innocence of his life. It was with him a favourite maxim, no wisdom without courage, and no courage without religion and honesty.' "His heart and his tongue went both one way, and so with every one that went with the truth, as knowing no other kindred, party, or end." While many experienced the effects of his beneficence,† it was never

Sprung of illustrious blood-for thou can'st trace
Heroes, and princes in thy splendid race-

Say, Sidney, this bright lineage of renown,

This gallant stem, 'scarce call'st thou these thine own?'
What other signs thine eminence shall show?

Whence shall thy titles, whence thine honour flow?

Thy piety, abandonment of ease,

Genius, and worth, and valour-thine' are these?
What 'thine' thou call'st, are properties divine:
Nor can'st thou call a nobler cluster ́thine.'

Hence in the Peplus' we read,

"Largiri solitus tot opes, tot præmia Musis,
Debueras animæ parcior esse tuæ.”

Lavish of wealth to chase the Muse's need,

F. W.

Thou should'st have learn'd more frugally to bleed. F. W.

known that a single individual sustained the most trifling injury at his hands. With all this was joined the most endearing affability. His dignified and winning deportment filled every one, who approached him, with delight. "It likes me much better," he himself observed, "when I find virtue in a fair lodging,* than when I am bound to seek it in an ill-favoured creature, like a pearl in a dunghill." To his nectartongue' evidence is borne in the collections of verses above quoted:

"Palladium pectus, sedes insignis honoris ;

Virtutum series, invicti robur Achillis;
Ingenii splendor, vultus formosa vetustas,
Melleus ore sonus, divinum mentis acumen.” †

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Well might it be declared, that such a constellation of virtues only rose to throw one bright flush over the world,and to set again: well might it be pronounced of him;

"Magna quidem pueri fuit expectatio, major
Inventus juvenis: prævertit tempora cursu.
Herba habuit florem, flos fructum; serior ætas
Quid non vidisset, nisi fata inopina negâssent
Tam clarum numen terris, cœloque locâssent?”‡

His death was lamented by both the English Universities in Hebrew, Greek, Latin, and Italian

* Pulcrior est pulcro veniens è corpore virtus.
A heart to Pallas sacred, honour's seat;
Virtue, and vigour, as the Pthian's great;
Genius, a face where all these graces shine,
And honied accents, and a mind divine.
Great was his boyhood's hope: more greatly still,
His years outstript, did youth that hope fulfil.
His blade had blossom, fruit that blossom swell'd;
What might not his ripe reason have beheld,
Had fate relented at the general sigh,

F. W.

Nor snatch'd the bright Immortal to the sky? F. W.

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