appearance of "N. & Q.," to convey to us his good opinion of our paper, and to prove it by giving us his communications. For particulars of his life and literary labours, the reader is referred to the Gentleman's Magazine for January, 1852, p. 99.

"1608 August the iiij daye John the sonne of John Tradescant was baptised eodem die—"

Although we are not without hopes of receiving further information from the same source, we could not refrain from bringing this new fact in the history of the Tradescants at once before our readers.

COWLEY AND HIS MONUMENT.

If Pope in his time could ask, "Who now reads Cowley?" and if Cowper, at a later period, could lament that his "splendid wit" should have been "entangled in the cobwebs of the schools," it may be in our day, when most good people who cultivate poetry, either as readers or writers, swear by Wordsworth or Tennyson, that the bare mention of Cowley's name, in some circles, would be resented as a kind of impertinence. But Pope's answer to his own question is as apposite now as when the question was first put. If Cowley—

The Davideis and the Herbs and Plants find few readers beyond those who resort to them for special purposes; but poets of more recent times, even whilst contemning his "conceits," have (as your volumes have frequently shown) often borrowed his ideas without improving upon the phraseology in which they have been clothed. Witness, for instance, Cowper's transmutation of his noble line:

into his own smooth generality of—

And Cowley's love of Nature, and his beautiful lyrics in praise of a country life, will always keep his name before us. However, to desist from this "nothing-if-not-critical" strain, let me beg of you to lay the accompanying transcript [see the next page] of a manuscript in my possession before your readers—that is, if you deem it of sufficient interest.

The verses themselves, evidently of a date not long subsequent to the erection of the Cowley monument in Westminster Abbey, are written on the back of a damaged copy of Faithorne's engraved portrait of him. They comprise a not very correct transcript of the Latin inscription on the monument, a translation and paraphrase of the same, and what is styled a "burlesque," in which one of the chief features of the monument itself is ludicrously associated with the profession of Sir Charles Scarborough, Cowley's friend. The "Per Carolum Scarborough, Militem, Med. Doctorem," implies, it may be presumed, that Sir Charles was the author of the Latin epitaph, of which it has always been understood, and indeed it is so stated in the later biographies of the poet, that Cowley's close friend and literary executor Sprat, Bishop of Rochester, was the author. Scarborough published an elegy to Cowley's memory, of which I am informed there is no copy in the British Museum library; and being unable to refer to it in any other collection, I have no means of ascertaining whether this elegy discloses the fact of the authorship of the epitaph. This is not an unimportant point, since it will be recollected that Dr. Johnson expends a considerable amount of indignation upon the epitaph, not on account of its Latinity, but on account of what he considers as the false sentiments of which it is made the vehicle.

The value of the manuscript depends of course upon the possibility of the chief item of its contents being unpublished. Whatever respect the writer may have entertained towards Cowley, he certainly seems inclined to be merry at the expense of Sir Charles Scarborough. The unwieldy urn which surmounts the monument, is variously designated as a "whimwham urn as broad as sawcer," and as "the surgeon's gally-pot." These are not very complimentary epithets, it is true; but if they ever met the courtly physician's eye he could afford to laugh with the laughers. Cowley's lack of success in his attempt to obtain the mastership of the Savoy is not forgotten; but the satirist speaks of the dead poet very goodhumouredly, and may be said to concur in opinion with those of his admirers who predicted for his writings an enduring immortality. But "sugar-candy Cowley," as the burlesquer terms him, is now obliged to be content with a few pages in the Selections from British Poets, where indeed he is entitled to a very eminent position; whilst "dull Chaucer," as he is irreverently called, with whom the writer quietly prays that Cowley may quietly "sleep in beggar's limbo," seems to live almost bodily amongst us; and his vivid pictures and naïve descriptions are so acceptable, that it may safely be predicted that an edition of the Canterbury Tales will always be a more profitable venture for a publisher than a speculation in a new edition of the Davideis.

But, after all, Cowley's acceptance amongst those who immediately survived him, is perhaps due quite as much to the recollection of his amiable personal qualities, as to his poetic abilities; and when Charles II., "who never said a foolish thing," declared, on being informed of the poet's death, that "Mr. Cowley had not left a better man behind him in England," the merry monarch may have intended exactly what he said, and no more. With these rambling remarks I leave the matter, only trusting, if I shall be found to have called attention to what may possibly be an old acquaintance of some of your learned readers, that my desire to contribute an occasional mite to the pages of a periodical, from which I gather so much information, will be accepted as an apology.

The words in brackets are supplied, conjecturally, in consequence of the manuscript being faulty in those places.

HENRY CAMPKIN.

Englished—