Waltoniana Part 3

By Sir John Skeffington, Kt. and Barronet. London, printed for John Martin and James Allestrye at the Bell in St Pauls Church-yard. 1652.]

_Let this be told the Reader_,

That Sir _John Skeffington_ (one of his late Majesties servants, and a stranger to no language of _Christendom_) did about 40 years now past, bring this Hero out of Spain into England.

There they two kept company together 'till about 12 months now past: and then, in a retyrement of that learned knights (by reason of a sequestration for his masters cause) a friend coming to visit him, they fell accidentally into a discourse of the _wit_ and _galantry_ of the _Spanish Nation_.

That discourse occasioned an example or two, to be brought out of this _Hero_: and, those examples (with Sir _John's_ choice language and ill.u.s.tration) were so relisht by his friend (a stranger to the _Spanish tongue_) that he became restles 'till he got a promise from Sir _John_ to translate the whole, which he did in a few weeks; and so long as that imployment lasted it proved an excellent diversion from his many sad thoughts; But he hath now chang'd that Condition, to be possest of that place into which sadnesse is not capable of entrance.

And his absence from this world hath occasion'd mee (who was one of those few that he gave leave to know him, for he was a retyr'd man) to tell the Reader that I heard him say, he had not made the _English_ so short, or few words, as the originall; because in that, the Author had exprest himself so enigmatically, that though he indevour'd to translate it plainly; yet, he thought it was not made comprehensible enough for common Readers, therefore he declar'd to me, that he intended to make it so by a coment on the margent; which he had begun, but (be it spoke with sorrow) he and those thoughts are now buried in the silent Grave,[1] and my self, with those very many that lov'd him, left to lament that losse.

I.W.

FOOTNOTES

[1] Compare the poem on the death of Cartwright, _supra_:--

"But now 'tis lost; lost in the silent grave," &c.

COMMENDATORY VERSE TO THE AUTHOR OF SCINTILLULA ALTARIS.

1652.

[Scintillula Altaris or, a Pious Reflection on Primitive Devotion: as to the Feasts and Fasts of the Christian Church, Orthodoxally Revived. By Edward Sparke, B.D. London; Printed by T. Maxey for Richard Marriot, and are to be sold at his Shop in St. Dunstan's Church-yard in Fleetstreet, 1652.

This book reached a Seventh Edition during Walton's lifetime; but his Commendatory Verses are only to be found in the first.]

_To the Author upon the sight of the first sheet of his Book._

My worthy friend, I am much pleas'd to know, You have begun to pay the debt you owe By promise, to so many pious friends, In printing your choice Poems; it commends Both them, and you, that they have been desir'd By persons of such Judgment; and admir'd They must be most, by those that best shal know What praise to holy Poetry we owe.

So shall your Disquisitions too; for, there Choice learning, and blest piety, appear.

All usefull to poor Christians: where they may Learne Primitive Devotion. Each Saints day Stands as a Land-mark in an erring age to guide fraile mortals in their pilgrimage To the Coelestiall _Can'an_; and each Fast, Is both the souls direction, and repast: All so exprest, that I am glad to know You have begun to pay the debt you owe.

IZ. WA.

DEDICATION OF THE LIFE OF DONNE AND ADVERTIs.e.m.e.nT TO THE READER.

1658.

[The Life of John Donne, Dr. in Divinity, and Late Dean of Saint Pauls Church London. The second impression corrected and enlarged. Ecclus.48.14.

_He did wonders in his life, and at his death his works were marvelous_.

London, Printed by J.G. for R. Marriot, and are to be sold at his shop under S. Dunstans Church in Fleet-street. 1658.]

_To My n.o.ble & honoured Friend Sir Robert Holt of Afton, in the County of Warwick, Baronet._

Sir,

When this relation of the life of Doctor Donne was first made publick, it had besides the approbation of our late learned & eloquent King, a conjunction with the Authors most excellent Sermons to support it; and thus it lay some time fortified against prejudice; and those pa.s.sions that are by busie and malicious men too freely vented against the dead.

And yet, now, after almost twenty yeares, when though the memory of Dr.

Donne himself, must not, cannot die, so long as men speak English; yet when I thought Time had made this relation of him so like my self, as to become useless to the world, and content to be forgotten; I find that a retreat into a defired privacy, will not be afforded; for the Printers will again expose it and me to publick exceptions; and without those supports, which we first had and needed, and in an Age too, in which Truth & Innocence have not beene able to defend themselves from worse then severe censures.

This I foresaw, and Nature teaching me selfe-preservation, and my long experience of your abilities a.s.suring me that in you it may in found:[1]

to you, Sir, do I make mine addreffes for an umbrage and protection: and I make it with so much humble boldnesse, as to say 'twere degenerous in you not to afford it.

For, Sir,

Dr. Donne was so much a part of yourself, as to be incorporated into your Family, by so n.o.ble a friends.h.i.+p, that I may say there was a marriage of fouls betwixt him and your[2] reverend Grandfather, who in his life was an Angel of our once glorious Church, and now no common Star in heaven.

And Dr. Donne's love died not with him, but was doubled upon his Heire, your beloved Uncle the Bishop of [3] Chichester, that lives in this froward generation, to be an ornament to his Calling. And this affection to him was by Dr. D. so testified in his life, that he then trusted him with the very secrets of his soul; & at his death, with what was dearest to him, even his fame, estate, & children.

And you have yet a further t.i.tle to what was Dr. Donne's, by that dear affection & friends.h.i.+p that was betwixt him and your parents, by which he entailed a love upon yourself, even in your infancy, which was encreased by the early testimonies of your growing merits, and by them continued, till D. _Donne_ put on immortality; and so this mortall was turned into a love that cannot die.

And Sir, 'twas pity he was lost to you in your minority, before you had attained a judgement to put a true value upon the living beauties and elegancies of his conversation; and pitty too, that so much of them as were capable of such an expression, were not drawn by the pensil of a _Tytian_ or a _Tentoret_, by a pen equall and more lasting then their art; for his life ought to be the example of more then that age in which he died. And yet this copy, though very much, indeed too much short of the Originall, will present you with some features not unlike your dead friend, and with fewer blemishes and more ornaments than when 'twas first made publique: which creates a contentment to my selfe, because it is the more worthy of him, and because I may with more civility int.i.tle you to it.

And in this designe of doing so, I have not a thought of what is pretended in most Dedications, _a Commutation for Courtesies_: no indeed Sir, I put no such value upon this trifle; for your owning it will rather increase my Obligations. But my desire is, that into whose hands soever this shall fall, it may to them be a testimony of my grat.i.tude to your self and Family, who descended to such a degree of humility as to admit me into their friends.h.i.+p in the dayes of my youth; and notwithstanding my many infirmities, have continued me in it till I am become gray-headed; and as Time has added to my yeares, have still increased and multiplied their favours.

This, Sir, is the intent of this Dedication: and having made the declaration of it thus publick, I shall conclude it with commending them and you to G.o.ds deare love.

I remain, Sir, what your many merits have made me to be, The humblest of your Servants, ISAAC WALTON.

_To the Reader._

My desire is to inform and a.s.sure you, that shall become my Reader, that in that part of this following discourse, which is onely narration, I either speak my own knowledge, or from the testimony of such as dare do any thing, rather than speak an untruth. And for that part of it which is my own observation or opinion, if I had a power I would not use it to force any mans a.s.sent, but leave him a liberty to disbelieve what his own reason inclines him to.