John Donne Complete Works – World’s Best Collection E-Book

John Donne

• Herausgeber: Imagination Books
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Seitenzahl: 8141

Beschreibung

John Donne Complete Works World's Best Collection

This is the world’s best John Donne collection, including the most complete set of Donne’s works available plus many free bonus materials.

John Donne

John Donne was an English poet, satirist, lawyer and a cleric in the Church of England. He is considered the pre-eminent representative of the metaphysical poets, his works noted for their strong, sensual style. Vibrancy of language and inventiveness of metaphor, and include sonnets, love poetry, religious poems, Latin translations, epigrams, elegies, songs, satires and sermons

The ‘Must-Have’ Complete Collection

In this irresistible collection you get Donne’s work, with more than 400 works - All his poems, All his poetry, All his Letters, All his Sermons, All his Devotions, All his Satires and Elegies, with notes and annotation, plus several full length biographies so you can experience the life of the man behind the words. With extra Bonus Material.

Works Included:

Holy Sonnets - Full set of Donne’s sonnets, including among others:

Holy Sonnet I: Thou Hast Made Me

Holy Sonnet Iv: Oh my black soul!

Holy Sonnet V: I Am A Little World Made Cunningly

Elegies - Full set of Donne’s elegies, including among others:

Elegy Xii - Come Fates ; I fear you not ! All whom I owe

Elegy Xvi. The Expostulation

Elegy Xx (Alternate) Love’s War

An Anatomy Of The World - Including:

The First Anniversary

The Second Anniversary

Satires - Full Set of Donne’s satires

Epicedes And Obsequies Upon The Death Of Sundry Personages

Juvenilia: Or Certain Paradoxes And Problems

Letters To Several Personages - Known as other poems, these are letter Donne wrote to historical figures of the time. 

Other Poetical Works - Full set of Donne’s Poems in alphabetical order, including among many others:

Death Be Not Proud

The Canonization

Devotions Upon Emergent Occasions - Full set of Donne’s Devotions, Meditations and Expostulations

Notes To Poems

Sermons Of John Donne - Comlpete set of Donne’s 148 Sermons, including Donne’s famous final sermon: Death’s Duel

Your Free Special BonusesBiographies

Historical and Literary Context Notes on Metaphysical Poetry - written specially for this collection

Life Of John Donne By Izaak Walton

Life Of John Donne By Augustus Jessopp

Life Of Dr. Donne By Henry Alford

Three biographies from different perspectives, the first being the famous Walton bio, Walton being closely connected with Donne and being one of those Donne wrote to often.

Letters Of John Donne And Notes - Rare additional letters Donne wrote.

Doubtful Poems And Notes - A set of poems attributed to Donne, but not always collected or known with certainty to have come from him, including:

On a Flea on his Mistress’s Bosom

Dr. Donne’s Farewell to the World

Get This Collection Right Now

This is the best John Donne collection you can get, so get it now and start enjoying and being inspired by his world like never before!

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

Title Page

LITERARY CONTEXT: THE METAPHYSICAL POETS

THE LIFE OF JOHN DONNE BY IZAAK WALTON

THE LIFE OF JOHN DONNE BY AUGUSTUS JESSOPP

THE LIFE OF DR. DONNE BY HENRY ALFORD

SATIRES

HOLY SONNETS

ELEGIES

AN ANATOMY OF THE WORLD

EPICEDES AND OBSEQUIES UPON THE DEATH OF SUNDRY PERSONAGES

LETTERS TO SEVERAL PERSONAGES

OTHER POETICAL WORKS IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER

DEVOTIONS UPON EMERGENT OCCASIONS AND SEUERALL STEPS IN MY SICKNES.

NOTES TO POEMS

DOUBTFUL POEMS

NOTES TO DOUBTFUL POEMS

OTHER POEMS NOT ORIGINALLY COLLECTED

NOTES TO OTHER POEMS NOT ORIGINALLY COLLECTED

SERMONS

DEATH OF THE BODY.

JUVENILIA: OR CERTAIN PARADOXES AND PROBLEMS.

SERMONS OF JOHN DONNE

THE LETTERS OF JOHN DONNE

JOHN DONNE COMPLETE WORKS WORLD’S BEST COLLECTION

Edited by Darryl Marks

JOHN DONNE COMPLETE WORKS WORLD’S BEST COLLECTION - Original Publication Dates Poems, Prose, Letters, Sermons and Works of John Donne – circa 1572-1631 Life of John Donne – Izaak Walton – 1640 Life of John Donne – Augustus Jessopp – 1855 Life of John Donne – Henry Alford – 1839 First Imagination Books edition published 2018 Copyright © 2018 by Darryl Marks and Infinite Eternity Entertainment LLC All Rights Reserved."LITERARY CONTEXT: METAPHYSICAL POETS" Copyright © 2018 by Darryl Marks and Infinite Eternity Entertainment LLC All Rights Reserved.

LITERARY CONTEXT: THE METAPHYSICAL POETS

The Metaphysical Poets

“Metaphysical Poets” is a term coined by poet and critic Samuel Johnson, to describe a loose group of English lyric poets of the 17th century.

Metaphysical poetry was not a proper school of movement in arts and literature. Instead, the “Metaphysical Poets” was a term used to group together certain 17th-century poets, they share common characteristics of wit, inventiveness, and a love of elaborate stylistic manoeuvres.

Names usually associated as Metaphysical Poets include John Donne, the de- facto leader and founder, George Herbert, Andrew Marvell, and Henry Vaughn, though other figures like Abraham Cowley are sometimes included in the list.

Metaphysical poetry was a very different take on poetry from its contemporaries and from the traditional view of how poetry should be written. The poems themselves are very unique, original and investigates the world by rational discussion of its phenomena rather than by intuition or mysticism.

When criticizing John Donne, John Dryden said: “He affects the Metaphysics... in his amorous verses, where nature only should reign; and perplexes the minds of the fair sex with nice speculations of philosophy, when he should engage their hearts.”

In fact, many critics and fellow poets disapproved of Donne's stylistic excesses, particularly his extravagant conceits (witty comparisons) and his tendency towards hyperboles.

Samuel Johnson then further used the terms and consolidated the argument in The Lives of The Poets, where he said, with reference to the far-fetched use of expression, that 'about the beginning of the seventeenth century appeared a race of writers that may be termed the metaphysical poets'. Johnson criticized the poets’ use of comparisons, especially the use of occult or spiritual imagery. As an example, Johnson condemned the extended comparison of love with astrology by Donne; and of the soul with a drop of dew by Marvell.

Not all critics were against them - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe wrote “The unnatural, that too is natural…”

The metaphysical poets, John Donne chiefly among them, developed a poetic style in which philosophical and spiritual subjects were approached with reason and often concluded in paradox.

Metaphysical poetry, although short, is dense in its imagery and is not intended to be read in a passive way. Its use of paradox, imagery, conceit and wit is meant to awaken the reader.

Metaphysical poetry asks many philosophical questions about religion, faith, spirituality, being and love.

Metaphysical Poetry

Origins and Historical Context

Metaphysical Poetry “began” as a way to break with the formerly artificial style of older poetry, to create a style free from traditional poetic diction or conventions.

Etymology

As has been stated, Metaphysical poetry was not a formal, or far reaching movement in arts, literature and similar fields. Instead, it was a branch of poetry that focused on a few specific poets.

They themselves only ‘adopted’ the use of the word Metaphysical after it was used to describe their poetry, and there is much debate on whether Metaphysical poets should be grouped together with Baroque poets, for ease of classification.

Nevertheless, it is important to understand the etymology of the term ‘Metaphysical’ in this context of literature and poetry.

The word itself can be broken down into its two components - “Meta” and “Physics”. “Meta” means “beyond” and “physics” in this context means “physical nature”. Therefore, the word literally means “going beyond physical nature”. This can have two meanings of its own – from the one point of view, Metaphysical poetry is literature and poetry that goes beyond the physical world and explores the spiritual world. In another sense, Metaphysical poetry goes beyond the mere physical and encompasses a great deal of intellectualization of the subject matter, requiring a great deal of thinking about the works themselves, to make sense of them.

As said, the origin of the use of this word was not the poets themselves. And although John Donne was the de-facto ‘leader and founder’ of the metaphysical school of poetry, it was another non-Metaphysical poet, John Dryden who first used the term to describe Donne’s work, claiming he “affects the metaphysics” with his pieces.

Characteristics of Metaphysical Poetry

Dramatic Manner and Direct Tone of Speech

Metaphysical poetry was meant to evoke sharp reactions in its readers and audiences, and it was also a reaction to the poetry that had come before, and so its writing was often dramatic manner and very direct.

As an example, the starting line of the poem “The Canonization” is, for its day, an extremely dramatic start, meant to capture attention immediately:

“For God’s sake hold your tongue, and let me love”.

Use of Conceits

A feature of the metaphysical poetry is the use of metaphysical conceits. It is the unique quality of metaphysical poetry. A conceit, in this context, is a comparison of two dissimilar things, which may have very little in common. The comparison may not make a great deal of sense, but in reading and re-reading the piece, the audience is encouraged to see the connections.

As examples of this, we have Abraham Cowley’s poem “The Mistress” , in which he compares his love for ladies to his habit of travelling in various countries of the world.

John Donne often used many wonderful and fantastical comparisons. One of his most famous is the comparison of a man who travels, and his beloved woman who stays at home, to a pair of compasses.

This occurs in the poem “A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning” –

“If they be two, they are two so

As stiff twin compasses are two,

Thy soul fixt foot makes no show

To move, but doth, if th’other do”.

Wit

Another important quality of Metaphysical poetry is the use of Wit.

It was the intention of the writer to often not only provide a great deal of food for thought within the lines of the poem, but to also provide entertainment and joviality. John Donne is called the “Monarch of Wit” in the history of metaphysical poetry.

“Passionate Thinking” and Fusion of Passionate Feelings and Logical Arguments

The term ‘Passionate Thinking’ was first used by T.S. Elliot to describe Metaphysical Poetry. It can defined as a blend of passion and thought. Another way to explain this is to say again say that there is a great deal of intellectualization in metaphysical poetry, and that there is a great deal of intellectual analysis of emotion in the poems.

When an emotional situation is described, the emotion is not merely expressed, but is also analyzed intellectually.

As an example, in Donne’s poem “A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning”, he ‘proves’ that lovers need not mourn at parting:

“So let us melt, and make no noise,

No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move,

‘Twere profanation of our joys

To tell the laity our love”.

Another example of this fusion of passionate feelings and logical arguments, is in “The Canonization”, where the passion is expressed through beautiful metaphors:

“Call us what you will, we are made such by love;

Call her one, me another fly,

We are tapers too, and at our own cost die,

And we in us, find the eagle and the dove”.

Intellectualization

The Metaphysical poets were men of very high intellect, who had graduated from esteemed colleges such as Oxford University or Cambridge University. This had provided them with a vast knowledge and they used this knowledge, and combined it in fascinating ways in their poems, to present new ideas and stories to the reader.

Mixture of Sensual and Spiritual Experience

This characteristic appears often in Donne’s poetry, where there is a blending of love and spiritual or even supernatural elements.

As a good example, in “The Canonization” and “The Extasie” the great metaphysical question is the relation between the spirit and the senses, and in “The Extasie”, Donne speaks of the souls of the lovers arising out of the bodies to negotiate with one another:

“And whilst our souls negotiate there,

We like sepulchral statues lay;

All day, the same our postures were,

And we said nothing, all the day”.

Satire and Irony

As there is a great amount of intellectualization within the poetry, it makes sense that satire and irony would be there too, and both were often used to great effect.

As an example, in “The Canonization” Donne’s speaks of a subtle irony as he writes about way people pursue their for wealth and favors:

“Take you a course, get you a place,

Observe his honour, or his Grace”.

Colloquial Speech and Ordinary Words

As Metaphysical poetry was in some ways a reaction against the old ways of writing poetry, it often employed colloquial speech. This gives the poetry, especially in its time, an abrupt, dramatic and conversational tone. This was in sharp contrast to the older and more accepted ways of writing poetry. As an example, for its time the following would have been dramatic and quite unique as opening a poem:

“For God’s sake hold your tongue, and let me love”

Or,

“Or the King’s real, or his stamped face”

In addition, Metaphysical poetry often used scientific, medical and legal words and phrases to create arguments within their poems about philosophical aspect of life. Again, this was not the normal practice among established ways to write poetry and the used of these ordinary and jargon words was very unique in its time.

Also, as the poems were reacting against the cloying sweetness and harmony of much of Elizabethan Poetry, the metaphysical poets would often deliberately avoid conventional poetic expressions and instead use very ordinary, prosaic words.

So, this leads us to often find what, in their day, were considered very rough and unpoetic words.

Also, in this context, this means that in the poems we often find many allusions and images that relate to many areas of nature and art and learning, from subjects such as medicine, cosmology, contemporary discoveries, ancient myth, history, law and art.

As an example, in “The Extasie”, Donne uses the, at that time, widely held belief that the blood contains certain spirits:

“As our blood labours to get

Spirits, as like souls, as it can,

Because such fingers need to knit

That subtle knot, which makes us man:”

Affectation and Hyperbole

Metaphysical Poets were also known for the use of extreme hyperbolic expressions, which to some were so amplified that it led to an artificial and confused expression of thought.

As an example, in the the lines of “A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning”:

“Our two souls therefore, which are one,

Though I must go, endure not yet

A breach, but an expansion,

Like gold to ayery thinness beat”

Peculiar and Fantastical Expressions

As a result of the other characteristics, such as hyperbole, satire, the use of spiritual and supernatural elements, it’s not surprising that the words of the metaphysical poems are often very strange and unique. This combined with the heavy emphasis on intellectualization, create very unusual structures and word-play in their writings.

According to A. C. Word, “The metaphysical style is a combination of two elements, the fantastic form and style and the incongruous in matter and manner”.

Use of Many Literary Devices

Besides hyperbole and conceits, Metaphysical poets used many, many other literary devise, such as metaphors, puns, paradoxes and unique meters to create drama and tension within the poetry.

Short Poems

Metaphysical poetry is largely considered to be brief and concise. Despite that, the words used and the concepts themselves are quite dense and every line conveys a great deal of meanings, even if it is just few words.

Maxims and Sayings

Metaphysical poetry is a vast collection of maxims and sayings, and this method of providing epigrams and short maxims is essential to the poetry.

Ambiguousness

It should come as no surprise that with all of the preceding elements of metaphysical poetry, it was often very ambiguous, obscure and difficult to read. It required high intellect and a vast knowledge of many different subjects.

The poetry is still challenging to understand at the first reading and needs full concentration and attention to fully grasp its concepts.

Originality

It should again come as no surprise that with all of the elements of Metaphysical poetry, that it was highly original in its construction and expression. Again, the reason for this was the Metaphysical poets wrote specifically not to follow the path of their contemporary poets.

Themes

Much of Metaphysical poetry focuses on love, as the union of soul, often also using spiritual and religious themes, even sometimes interweaving both themes simultaneously.

Many different kinds of love were highlighted thematically and one of the main kinds was Platonic Love, which is spiritual love, free from elements of physical love.

John Donne’s Theme of Love

Donne used ‘love’ to be an important theme of his poetry, but since love may be different from man to man, time to time, and there are many different kinds of love, Donne also treated love differently from one poem to others. Donne’s definition of love is therefore broad and far reaching.

There are three main kind of love in Donne’s poems:

Cynical, anti-woman and hostile love poems

Here, we see the poet’s contempt towards love. For example, in ‘Go and Catch a Falling Star’, Donne explains and seeks to prove, with impossible imagery, the impossibility of finding a true and faithful women:

‘‘Go, and catch a falling star

Get with child a mandrake root’’

And swear

No where

Lives a woman true and fair’’

We also find examples in ‘Woman’s Constancy’, ‘The Indifferent’, ‘The Apparition’ and ‘Loves Usury’.

Happy married life and mutual admiration love poems

These poems speak about simple, pure, mutual love and the beauty of married love.

For example, in The Anniversary’, which was written to celebrate the second anniversary of his wedding, he explains a beautiful picture of wedded bliss.

And in ‘A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning’, a departing husband explains his wife should not cry because his departure is not

‘‘a breach, but an expansion

Like gold to aery thinness beat’’

And in ‘The Sun Rising’ the poet says,

‘‘She’s is all states, and all princes, I,

Nothing else is’’

Poems about the supremacy of love with a philosophical interpretation

Here, Donne explains in his poems how spiritual love is above all and that spiritual love out of physical love is the best. As an examples, in ‘The Exstasie’, Donne writes:

‘‘Loves mysteries in souls do grow

But yet the body is his book’’

End of Metaphysical Poetry

As said, Metaphysical poetry was not a formal, or far reaching, movement in arts and literature and soon another school of poetry and arts became much more prominent.

In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, the Romantics, such as Wordsworth, Coleridge, Shelly, Byron, and Victorian poets, such as Tennyson, overshadows Metaphysical poets.

Legacy

It wasn’t until the twentieth-century that readers and scholars began to have renewed interested in the Metaphysical Poets. In his essay "The Metaphysical Poets," T. S. Eliot, in particular, saw in this group of poets a capacity for “devouring all kinds of experience.”

Today, the poetry is still dense and difficult and requires a great deal of effort. Yet, the effort is very rewarding and the poems themselves carry a sublime, timeless quality.

Although is their time, they were severely criticized, the metaphysical poets continue to be studied and revered for their intricacy and originality.

THE LIFE OF JOHN DONNE BY IZAAK WALTON

Master John Donne was born in London, in the year 1573, of good and virtuous parents: and, though his own learning and other multiplied merits may justly appear sufficient to dignify both himself and his posterity, yet the reader may be pleased to know that his father was masculinely and lineally descended from a very ancient family in Wales, where many of his name now live, that deserve and have great reputation in that country.

By his mother he was descended of the family of the famous and learned Sir Thomas More, sometime Lord Chancellor of England: as also, from that worthy and laborious Judge Rastall, who left posterity the vast Statutes of the Law of this nation most exactly abridged.

He had his first breeding in his father's house, where a private tutor had the care of him, until the tenth year of his age; and, in his eleventh year, was sent to the University of Oxford, having at that time a good command both of the French and Latin tongue. This, and some other of his remarkable abilities, made one then give this censure of him: That this age had brought forth another Picus Mirandula; of whom story says, that he was rather born than made wise by study.

There he remained for some years in Hart Hall, having, for the advancement of his studies, tutors of several sciences to attend and instruct him, till time made him capable, and his learning expressed in public exercises, declared him worthy, to receive his first degree in the schools, which he forbore by advice from his friends, who, being for their religion of the Romish persuasion, were conscionably averse to some parts of the oath that is always tendered at those times, and not to be refused by those that expect the titulary honour of their studies.

About the fourteenth year of his age he was transplanted from Oxford to Cambridge, where, that he might receive nourishment from both soils, he staid till his seventeenth year; all which time he was a most laborious student, often changing his studies, but endeavouring to take no degree, for the reasons formerly mentioned.

About the seventeenth year of his age he was removed to London, and then admitted into Lincoln's Inn, with an intent to study the law, where he gave great testimonies of his wit, his learning, and of his improvement in that profession; which never served him for other use than an ornament and self-satisfaction.

His father died before his admission into this society; and, being a merchant, left him his portion in money. (It was £3,000.) His mother, and those to whose care he was committed, were watchful to improve his knowledge, and to that end appointed him tutors both in the mathematics, and in all the other liberal sciences, to attend him. But, with these arts, they were advised to instil into him particular principles of the Romish Church; of which those tutors professed, though secretly, themselves to be members.

They had almost obliged him to their faith; having for their advantage, besides many opportunities, the example of his dear and pious parents, which was a most powerful persuasion, and did work much upon him, as he professeth in his preface to his "Pseudo-Martyr," a book of which the reader shall have some account in what follows.

He was now entered into the eighteenth year of his age; and at that time had betrothed himself to no religion that might give him any other denomination than a Christian. And reason and piety had both persuaded him that there could be no such sin as schism, if an adherence to some visible Church were not necessary.

About the nineteenth year of his age, he, being then unresolved what religion to adhere to, and considering how much it concerned his soul to choose the most orthodox, did therefore,—though his youth and health promised him a long life—to rectify all scruples that might concern that, presently lay aside all study of the law, and of all other sciences that might give him a denomination; and began seriously to survey and consider the body of Divinity, as it was then controverted betwixt the Reformed and the Roman Church. And, as God's blessed Spirit did then awaken him to the search, and in that industry did never forsake him—they be his own words (in his preface to "Pseudo-Martyr")—so he calls the same Holy Spirit to witness this protestation; that in that disquisition and search he proceeded with humility and diffidence in himself; and by that which he took to be the safest way; namely, frequent prayers, and an indifferent affection to both parties; and, indeed, Truth had too much light about her to be hid from so sharp an inquirer; and he had too much ingenuity not to acknowledge he had found her.

Being to undertake this search, he believed the Cardinal Bellarmine to be the best defender of the Roman cause, and therefore betook himself to the examination of his reasons. The cause was weighty, and wilful delays had been inexcusable both towards God and his own conscience: he therefore proceeded in this search with all moderate haste, and about the twentieth year of his age did show the then Dean of Gloucester—whose name my memory hath now lost—all the Cardinal's works marked with many weighty observations under his own hand; which works were bequeathed by him, at his death, as a legacy to a most dear friend.

About a year following he resolved to travel: and the Earl of Essex going first to Cales, and after the Island voyages, the first anno 1596, the second 1597, he took the advantage of those opportunities, waited upon his Lordship, and was an eye-witness of those happy and unhappy employments.

But he returned not back into England till he had staid some years, first in Italy and then in Spain, where he made many useful observations of those countries, their laws and manner of government, and returned perfect in their languages.

The time that he spent in Spain was, at his first going into Italy, designed for travelling to the Holy Land, and for viewing Jerusalem and the Sepulchre of our Saviour. But at his being in the furthest parts of Italy, the disappointment of company, or of a safe convoy, or the uncertainty of returns of money into those remote parts, denied him that happiness, which he did often occasionally mention with a deploration.

Not long after his return into England, that exemplary pattern of gravity and wisdom, the Lord Ellesmere, then Keeper of the Great Seal, the Lord Chancellor of England, taking notice of his learning, languages, and other abilities, and much affecting his person and behaviour, took him to be his chief secretary; supposing and intending it to be an introduction to some more weighty employment in the State; for which, his Lordship did often protest, he thought him very fit.

Nor did his Lordship, in this time of Master Donne's attendance upon him, account him to be so much his servant as to forget he was his friend; and, to testify it, did always use him with much courtesy, appointing him a place at his own table, to which he esteemed his company and discourse to be a great ornament.

He continued that employment for the space of five years, being daily useful, and not mercenary to his friend. During which time he—I dare not say unhappily—fell into such a liking, as,—with her approbation,—increased into a love, with a young gentlewoman that lived in that family, who was niece to the Lady Ellesmere, and daughter to Sir George More, then Chancellor of the Garter and Lieutenant of the Tower.

Sir George had some intimation of it, and, knowing prevention to be a great part of wisdom, did therefore remove her with much haste from that to his own house at Lothesley, in the County of Surrey; but too late, by reason of some faithful promises which were so interchangeably passed, as never to be violated by either party.

These promises were only known to themselves; and the friends of both parties used much diligence, and many arguments, to kill or cool their affections to each other; but in vain, for love is a flattering mischief that hath denied aged and wise men a foresight of those evils that too often prove to be the children of that blind father; a passion that carries us to commit errors with as much ease as whirlwinds move feathers, and begets in us an unwearied industry to the attainment of what we desire. And such an industry did, notwithstanding much watchfulness against it, bring them secretly together,—I forbear to tell the manner how,—and at last to a marriage too, without the allowance of those friends whose approbation always was, and ever will be necessary, to make even a virtuous love become lawful.

And that the knowledge of their marriage might not fall, like an unexpected tempest, on those that were unwilling to have it so; and that pre-apprehensions might make it the less enormous when it was known, it was purposely whispered into the ears of many that it was so, yet by none that could affirm it. But, to put a period to the jealousies of Sir George—doubt often begetting more restless thoughts than the certain knowledge of what we fear—the news was, in favour to Mr. Donne, and with his allowance, made known to Sir George, by his honourable friend and neighbour Henry, Earl of Northumberland; but it was to Sir George so immeasurably unwelcome, and so transported him that, as though his passion of anger and inconsideration might exceed theirs of love and error, he presently engaged his sister, the Lady Ellesmere, to join with him to procure her lord to discharge Mr. Donne of the place he held under his Lordship. This request was followed with violence; and though Sir George were remembered that errors might be over punished, and desired therefore to forbear till second considerations might clear some scruples, yet he became restless until his suit was granted and the punishment executed. And though the Lord Chancellor did not, at Mr. Donne's dismission, give him such a commendation as the great Emperor Charles the Fifth did of his Secretary Eraso, when he parted with him to his son and successor, Philip the Second, saying, "That in his Eraso, he gave to him a greater gift than all his estate, and all the kingdoms which he then resigned to him;" yet the Lord Chancellor said, "He parted with a friend, and such a Secretary as was fitter to serve a king than a subject."

Immediately after his dismission from his service, he sent a sad letter to his wife to acquaint her with it; and after the subscription of his name, writ,

"John Donne, Anne Donne, Un-done;"

and God knows it proved too true; for this bitter physic of Mr. Donne's dismission, was not enough to purge out all Sir George's choler, for he was not satisfied till Mr. Donne and his sometime compupil in Cambridge, that married him, namely, Samuel Brooke, who was after Doctor in Divinity and Master of Trinity College—and his brother Mr. Christopher Brooke, sometime Mr. Donne's chamber-fellow in Lincoln's Inn, who gave Mr. Donne his wife, and witnessed the marriage, were all committed to three several prisons.

Mr. Donne was first enlarged, who neither gave rest to his body or brain, nor to any friend in whom he might hope to have an interest, until he had procured an enlargement for his two imprisoned friends.

He was now at liberty, but his days were still cloudy; and, being past these troubles, others did still multiply upon him; for his wife was—to her extreme sorrow—detained from him; and though, with Jacob, he endured not a hard service for her, yet he lost a good one, and was forced to make good his title, and to get possession of her by a long and restless suit in law, which proved troublesome and sadly chargeable to him, whose youth, and travel, and needless bounty, had brought his estate into a narrow compass.

It is observed, and most truly, that silence and submission are charming qualities, and work most upon passionate men; and it proved so with Sir George; for these, and a general report of Mr. Donne's merits, together with his winning behaviour,—which, when it would entice, had a strange kind of elegant irresistible art;—these, and time, had so dispassionated Sir George, that, as the world had approved his daughter's choice, so he also could not but see a more than ordinary merit in his new son; and this at last melted him into so much remorse—for love and anger are so like agues as to have hot and cold fits; and love in parents, though it may be quenched, yet is easily rekindled, and expires not till death denies mankind a natural heat—that he laboured his son's restoration to his place; using to that end both his own and his sister's power to her lord; but with no success; for his answer was, "That though he was unfeignedly sorry for what he had done, yet it was inconsistent with his place and credit, to discharge and readmit servants at the request of passionate petitioners."

Sir George's endeavour for Mr. Donne's readmission was by all means to be kept secret:—for men do more naturally reluct for errors than submit to put on those blemishes that attend their visible acknowledgment. But, however, it was not long before Sir George appeared to be so far reconciled as to wish their happiness, and not to deny them his paternal blessing, but yet refused to contribute any means that might conduce to their livelihood.

Mr. Donne's estate was the greatest part spent in many and chargeable travels, books, and dear-bought experience: he out of all employment that might yield a support for himself and wife, who had been curiously and plentifully educated; both their natures generous, and accustomed to confer, and not to receive, courtesies, these and other considerations, but chiefly that his wife was to bear a part in his sufferings, surrounded him with many sad thoughts, and some apparent apprehensions of want.

But his sorrows were lessened and his wants prevented by the seasonable courtesy of their noble kinsman, Sir Francis Wolly, of Pirford in Surrey, who intreated them to a cohabitation with him; where they remained with much freedom to themselves, and equal content to Him, for some years; and as their charge increased—she had yearly a child—so did his love and bounty.

Mr. Donne and his wife continued with Sir Francis Wolly till his death: a little before which time Sir Francis was so happy as to make a perfect reconciliation between Sir George and his forsaken son and daughter; Sir George conditioning, by bond, to pay to Mr. Donne 800l. at a certain day, as a portion with his wife, or 20l. quarterly for their maintenance, as the interest for it, till the said portion was paid.

Most of those years that he lived with Sir Francis he studied the Civil and Canon Laws; in which he acquired such a perfection, as was judged to hold proportion with many, who had made that study the employment of their whole life.

Sir Francis being dead, and that happy family dissolved, Mr. Donne took for himself a house in Mitcham—near to Croydon in Surrey—a place noted for good air and choice company: there his wife and children remained; and for himself he took lodgings in London, near to Whitehall, whither his friends and occasions drew him very often, and where he was as often visited by many of the nobility and others of this nation, who used him in their counsels of greatest consideration, and with some rewards for his better subsistence.

Nor did our own nobility only value and favour him, but his acquaintance and friendship was sought for by most Ambassadors of foreign nations, and by many other strangers whose learning or business occasioned their stay in this nation.

Thus it continued with him for about two years, all which time his family remained constantly at Mitcham; and to which place he often retired himself, and destined some days to a constant study of some points of controversy betwixt the English and Roman Church, and especially those of Supremacy and Allegiance: and to that place and such studies he could willingly have wedded himself during his life; but the earnest persuasion of friends became at last to be so powerful, as to cause the removal of himself and family to London, where Sir Robert Drewry, a gentleman of a very noble estate, and a more liberal mind, assigned him and his wife an useful apartment in his own large house in Drury Lane, and not only rent free, but was also a cherisher of his studies, and such a friend as sympathized with him and his, in all their joy and sorrows.

At this time of Mr. Donne's and his wife's living in Sir Robert's house, the Lord Hay was, by King James, sent upon a glorious embassy to the then French King, Henry the Fourth; and Sir Robert put on a sudden resolution to accompany him to the French Court, and to be present at his audience there. And Sir Robert put on a sudden resolution to solicit Mr. Donne to be his companion in that journey. And this desire was suddenly made known to his wife, who was then with child, and otherwise under so dangerous a habit of body as to her health, that she professed an unwillingness to allow him any absence from her; saying, "Her divining soul boded her some ill in his absence;" and therefore desired him not to leave her. This made Mr. Donne lay aside all thoughts of the journey, and really to resolve against it. But Sir Robert became restless in his persuasions for it, and Mr. Donne was so generous as to think he had sold his liberty when he received so many charitable kindnesses from him, and told his wife so; who did therefore, with an unwilling willingness, give a faint consent to the journey, which was proposed to be but for two months; for about that time they determined their return. Within a few days after this resolve, the Ambassador, Sir Robert, and Mr. Donne, left London; and were the twelfth day got all safe to Paris. Two days after their arrival there, Mr. Donne was left alone in that room in which Sir Robert, and he, and some other friends had dined together. To this place Sir Robert returned within half an hour; and as he left, so he found, Mr. Donne alone; but in such an ecstasy, and so altered as to his looks, as amazed Sir Robert to behold him; insomuch that he earnestly desired Mr. Donne to declare what had befallen him in the short time of his absence. To which Mr. Donne was not able to make a present answer; but, after a long and perplexed pause, did at last say, "I have seen a dreadful vision since I saw you: I have seen my dear wife pass twice by me through this room, with her hair hanging about her shoulders, and a dead child in her arms: this I have seen since I saw you." To which Sir Robert replied, "Sure, sir, you have slept since I saw you; and this is the result of some melancholy dream, which I desire you to forget, for you are now awake." To which Mr. Donne's reply was: "I cannot be surer that I now live than that I have not slept since I saw you: and am as sure that at her second appearing she stopped and looked me in the face, and vanished." Rest and sleep had not altered Mr. Donne's opinion the next day: for he then affirmed this vision with a more deliberate, and so confirmed a confidence, that he inclined Sir Robert to a faint belief that the vision was true. It is truly said that desire and doubt have no rest; and it proved so with Sir Robert; for he immediately sent a servant to Drewry House, with a charge to hasten back and bring him word whether Mrs. Donne were alive; and, if alive, in what condition she was as to her health. The twelfth day the messenger returned with this account:—That he found and left Mrs. Donne very sad and sick in her bed; and that, after a long and dangerous labour, she had been delivered of a dead child. And, upon examination, the abortion proved to be the same day, and about the very hour, that Mr. Donne affirmed he saw her pass by him in his chamber.

This is a relation that will beget some wonder, and it well may; for most of our world are at present possessed with an opinion that visions and miracles are ceased. And, though it is most certain that two lutes, being both strung and tuned to an equal pitch, and then one played upon, the other that is not touched, being laid upon a table at a fit distance, will—like an echo to a trumpet—warble a faint audible harmony in answer to the same tune; yet many will not believe there is any such thing as a sympathy of souls; and I am well pleased that every reader do enjoy his own opinion. But if the unbelieving will not allow the believing reader of this story, a liberty to believe that it may be true, then I wish him to consider many wise men have believed that the ghost of Julius Cæsar did appear to Brutus, and that both St. Austin, and Monica his mother, had visions in order to his conversion. And though these and many others—too many to name—have but the authority of human story, yet the incredible reader may find in the sacred story (1 Sam. xxviii. 14) that Samuel did appear to Saul even after his death—whether really or not, I undertake not to determine. And Bildad, in the Book of Job, says these words (iv. 13-16): "A spirit passed before my face; the hair of my head stood up; fear and trembling came upon me, and made all my bones to shake." Upon which words I will make no comment, but leave them to be considered by the incredulous reader; to whom I will also commend this following consideration: That there be many pious and learned men that believe our merciful God hath assigned to every man a particular guardian angel to be his constant monitor, and to attend him in all his dangers, both of body and soul. And the opinion that every man hath his particular angel may gain some authority by the relation of St. Peter's miraculous deliverance out of prison (Acts xii. 7-10; 13-15), not by many, but by one angel. And this belief may yet gain more credit by the reader's considering, that when Peter after his enlargement knocked at the door of Mary the mother of John, and Rhode, the maidservant, being surprised with joy that Peter was there, did not let him in, but ran in haste and told the disciples, who were then and there met together, that Peter was at the door; and they, not believing it, said she was mad: yet, when she again affirmed it, though they then believed it not, yet they concluded, and said, "It is his angel."

More observations of this nature, and inferences from them, might be made to gain the relation a firmer belief; but I forbear, lest I, that intended to be but a relator, may be thought to be an engaged person for the proving what was related to me; and yet I think myself bound to declare that, though it was not told me by Mr. Donne himself, it was told me—now long since—by a person of honour, and of such intimacy with him, that he knew more of the secrets of his soul than any person then living: and I think he told me the truth; for it was told with such circumstances, and such asseveration, that—to say nothing of my own thoughts—I verily believe he that told it me did himself believe it to be true.

I return from my account of the vision, to tell the reader, that both before Mr. Donne's going into France, at his being there, and after his return, many of the nobility and others that were powerful at court, were watchful and solicitous to the King for some secular employment for him. The King had formerly both known and put a value upon his company, and had also given him some hopes of a state-employment; being always much pleased when Mr. Donne attended him, especially at his meals, where there were usually many deep discourses of general learning, and very often friendly disputes, or debates of religion, betwixt his Majesty and those divines, whose places required their attendance on him at those times: particularly the Dean of the Chapel, who then was Bishop Montague—the publisher of the learned and eloquent Works of his Majesty—and the most Reverend Doctor Andrews the late learned Bishop of Winchester, who was then the King's Almoner.

About this time there grew many disputes, that concerned the Oath of Supremacy and Allegiance, in which the King had appeared, and engaged himself by his public writings now extant: and his Majesty discoursing with Mr. Donne, concerning many of the reasons which are usually urged against the taking of those Oaths, apprehended such a validity and clearness in his stating the questions, and his answers to them, that his Majesty commanded him to bestow some time in drawing the arguments into a method, and then to write his answers to them; and, having done that, not to send, but be his own messenger, and bring them to him. To this he presently and diligently applied himself, and within six weeks brought them to him under his own handwriting, as they be now printed; the book bearing the name of "Pseudo-Martyr," printed anno 1610.

When the King had read and considered that book, he persuaded Mr. Donne to enter into the Ministry; to which, at that time, he was, and appeared, very unwilling, apprehending it—such was his mistaken modesty—to be too weighty for his abilities.

Such strifes St. Austin had, when St. Ambrose endeavoured his conversion to Christianity; with which he confesseth he acquainted his friend Alipius. Our learned author—a man fit to write after no mean copy—did the like. And declaring his intentions to his dear friend Dr. King, then Bishop of London, a man famous in his generation, and no stranger to Mr. Donne's abilities—for he had been Chaplain to the Lord Chancellor, at the time of Mr. Donne's being his Lordship's Secretary—that reverend man did receive the news with much gladness; and, after some expressions of joy, and a persuasion to be constant in his pious purpose, he proceeded with all convenient speed to ordain him first Deacon, and then Priest not long after.

Presently after he entered into his holy profession, the King sent for him, and made him his Chaplain in Ordinary, and promised to take a particular care for his preferment.

And, though his long familiarity with scholars and persons of greatest quality was such, as might have given some men boldness enough to have preached to any eminent auditory; yet his modesty in this employment was such, that he could not be persuaded to it, but went usually accompanied with some one friend to preach privately in some village, not far from London; his first sermon being preached at Paddington. This he did, till his Majesty sent and appointed him a day to preach to him at Whitehall; and, though much were expected from him, both by his Majesty and others, yet he was so happy—which few are—as to satisfy and exceed their expectations: preaching the Word so, as shewed his own heart was possessed with those very thoughts and joys that he laboured to distil into others: a preacher in earnest; weeping sometimes for his auditory, sometimes with them; always preaching to himself like an angel from a cloud, but in none; carrying some, as St. Paul was, to Heaven in holy raptures, and enticing others by a sacred art and courtship to amend their lives: here picturing a vice so as to make it ugly to those that practised it; and a virtue so as to make it beloved, even by those that loved it not; and all this with a most particular grace and an unexpressible addition of comeliness.

That summer, in the very same month in which he entered into sacred Orders, and was made the King's Chaplain, his Majesty then going his progress, was entreated to receive an entertainment in the University of Cambridge: and Mr. Donne attending his Majesty at that time, his Majesty was pleased to recommend him to the University, to be made Doctor in Divinity; Doctor Harsnett, after Archbishop of York, was then Vice-Chancellor, who, knowing him to be the author of that learned book the "Pseudo-Martyr," required no other proof of his abilities, but proposed it to the University, who presently assented, and expressed a gladness that they had such an occasion to entitle him to be theirs.

His abilities and industry in his profession were so eminent, and he so known and so beloved by persons of quality, that within the first year of his entering into sacred Orders, he had fourteen advowsons of several benefices presented to him: but they were in the country, and he could not leave his beloved London, to which place he had a natural inclination, having received both his birth and education in it, and there contracted a friendship with many, whose conversation multiplied the joys of his life; but an employment that might affix him to that place would be welcome, for he needed it.

Immediately after his return from Cambridge his wife died, leaving him a man of a narrow, unsettled estate, and—having buried five—the careful father of seven children then living, to whom he gave a voluntary assurance never to bring them under the subjection of a step-mother; which promise he kept most faithfully, burying with his tears all his earthly joys in his most dear and deserving wife's grave, and betook himself to a most retired and solitary life.

In this retiredness, which was often from the sight of his dearest friends, he became crucified to the world, and all those vanities, those imaginary pleasures, that are daily acted on that restless stage, and they were as perfectly crucified to him.

His first motion from his house was to preach where his beloved wife lay buried—in St. Clement's Church, near Temple Bar, London; and his text was a part of the Prophet Jeremy's Lamentation: "Lo, I am the man that have seen affliction."

In this time of sadness he was importuned by the grave Benchers of Lincoln's Inn—who were once the companions and friends of his youth—to accept of their Lecture, which, by reason of Dr. Gataker's removal from thence, was then void; of which he accepted, being most glad to renew his intermitted friendship with those whom he so much loved, and where he had been a Saul,—though not to persecute Christianity, or to deride it, yet in his irregular youth to neglect the visible practice of it,—there to become a Paul, and preach salvation to his beloved brethren.

About which time the Emperor of Germany died, and the Palsgrave, who had lately married the Lady Elizabeth, the King's only daughter, was elected and crowned King of Bohemia, the unhappy beginning of many miseries in that nation.

King James, whose motto—Beati pacifici—did truly speak the very thoughts of his heart, endeavoured first to prevent, and after to compose, the discords of that discomposed State; and, amongst other his endeavours, did then send the Lord Hay, Earl of Doncaster, his Ambassador to those unsettled Princes; and, by a special command from his Majesty, Dr. Donne was appointed to assist and attend that employment to the Princes of the Union, for which the Earl was most glad, who had always put a great value on him, and taken a great pleasure in his conversation and discourse: and his friends at Lincoln's Inn were as glad; for they feared that his immoderate study, and sadness for his wife's death, would, as Jacob said, "make his days few," and, respecting his bodily health, "evil" too: and of this there were many visible signs.

About fourteen months after his departure out of England, he returned to his friends of Lincoln's Inn, with his sorrows moderated, and his health improved; and there betook himself to his constant course of preaching.

About a year after his return out of Germany, Dr. Carey was made Bishop of Exeter, and by his removal, the Deanery of St. Paul's being vacant, the King sent to Dr. Donne, and appointed him to attend him at dinner the next day. When his Majesty was sat down, before he had eat any meat, he said after his pleasant manner, "Dr. Donne, I have invited you to dinner; and, though you sit not down with me, yet I will carve to you of a dish that I know you love well; for, knowing you love London, I do therefore make you Dean of St. Paul's; and, when I have dined, then do you take your beloved dish home to your study, say grace there to yourself, and much good may it do you."

Immediately after he came to his Deanery, he employed workmen to repair and beautify the Chapel; suffering as holy David once vowed, "his eyes and temples to take no rest till he had first beautified the house of God."

The next quarter following when his father-in-law, Sir George More,—whom time had made a lover and admirer of him—came to pay to him the conditioned sum of twenty pounds, he refused to receive it; and said—as good Jacob did, when he heard his beloved son Joseph was alive—"'It is enough;' you have been kind to me and mine: I know your present condition is such as not to abound, and I hope mine is, or will be such as not to need it: I will therefore receive no more from you upon that contract," and in testimony of it freely gave him up his bond.

Immediately after his admission into his Deanery the Vicarage of St. Dunstan in the West, London, fell to him by the death of Dr. White, the advowson of it having been given to him long before by his honourable friend Richard Earl of Dorset, then the patron, and confirmed by his brother the late deceased Edward, both of them men of much honour.

By these, and another ecclesiastical endowment which fell to him about the same time, given to him formerly by the Earl of Kent, he was enabled to become charitable to the poor, and kind to his friends, and to make such provision for his children, that they were not left scandalous as relating to their or his profession and quality.

The next Parliament, which was within that present year, he was chosen Prolocutor to the Convocation, and about that time was appointed by his Majesty, his most gracious master, to preach very many occasional sermons, as at St. Paul's Cross, and other places. All which employments he performed to the admiration of the representative body of the whole Clergy of this nation.

He was once, and but once, clouded with the King's displeasure, and it was about this time; which was occasioned by some malicious whisperer, who had told his Majesty that Dr. Donne had put on the general humour of the pulpits, and was become busy in insinuating a fear of the King's inclining to popery, and a dislike of his government; and particularly for the King's then turning the evening lectures into catechising, and expounding the Prayer of our Lord, and of the Belief, and Commandments. His Majesty was the more inclinable to believe this, for that a person of nobility and great note, betwixt whom and Dr. Donne there had been a great friendship, was at this very time discarded the court—I shall forbear his name, unless I had a fairer occasion—and justly committed to prison; which begot many rumours in the common people, who in this nation think they are not wise unless they be busy about what they understand not, and especially about religion.

The King received this news with so much discontent and restlessness that he would not suffer the sun to set and leave him under this doubt; but sent for Dr. Donne, and required his answer to the accusation; which was so clear and satisfactory that the King said, "he was right glad he rested no longer under the suspicion." When the King had said this, Dr. Donne kneeled down, and thanked his Majesty, and protested his answer was faithful, and free from all collusion, and therefore "desired that he might not rise till, as in like cases, he always had from God, so he might have from his Majesty, some assurance that he stood clear and fair in his opinion." At which the King raised him from his knees with his own hands, and "protested he believed him; and that he knew he was an honest man, and doubted not but that he loved him truly." And, having thus dismissed him, he called some Lords of his Council into his chamber, and said with much earnestness, "My Doctor is an honest man; and, my Lords, I was never better satisfied with an answer than he hath now made me; and I always rejoice when I think that by my means he became a Divine."

He was made Dean in the fiftieth year of his age, and in his fifty-fourth year a dangerous sickness seized him, which inclined him to a consumption; but God, as Job thankfully acknowledged, preserved his spirit, and kept his intellectuals as clear and perfect as when that sickness first seized his body; but it continued long, and threatened him with death, which he dreaded not.

Within a few days his distempers abated; and as his strength increased so did his thankfulness to Almighty God, testified in his most excellent "Book of Devotions," which he published at his recovery; in which the reader may see the most secret thoughts that then possessed his soul, paraphrased and made public: a book that may not unfitly be called a Sacred Picture of Spiritual Ecstasies, occasioned and applicable to the emergencies of that sickness; which book, being a composition of meditations, disquisitions, and prayers, he writ on his sick-bed; herein imitating the holy Patriarchs, who were wont to build their altars in that place where they had received their blessings.

This sickness brought him so near to the gates of death, and he saw the grave so ready to devour him, that he would often say his recovery was supernatural: but that God that then restored his health continued it to him till the fifty-ninth year of his life: and then, in August 1630, being with his eldest daughter, Mrs. Harvey, at Abury Hatch, in Essex, he there fell into a fever, which, with the help of his constant infirmity—vapours from the spleen—hastened him into so visible a consumption that his beholders might say, as St. Paul of himself, "He dies daily;" and he might say with Job, "My welfare passeth away as a cloud, the days of my affliction have taken hold of me, and weary nights are appointed for me."

Reader, this sickness continued long, not only weakening, but wearying him so much, that my desire is he may now take some rest; and that before I speak of his death thou wilt not think it an impertinent digression to look back with me upon some observations of his life, which, whilst a gentle slumber gives rest to his spirits, may, I hope, not unfitly, exercise thy consideration.

His marriage was the remarkable error of his life; an error which, though he had a wit able and very apt to maintain paradoxes, yet he was very far from justifying it: and though his wife's competent years, and other reasons, might be justly urged to moderate severe censures, yet he would occasionally condemn himself for it: and doubtless it had been attended with an heavy repentance, if God had not blessed them with so mutual and cordial affections, as in the midst of their sufferings made their bread of sorrow taste more pleasantly than the banquets of dull and low-spirited people.

The recreations of his youth were poetry, in which he was so happy as if nature and all her varieties had been made only to exercise his sharp wit and high fancy; and in those pieces which were facetiously composed and carelessly scattered,—most of them being written before the twentieth year of his age—it may appear by his choice metaphors that both nature and all the arts joined to assist him with their utmost skill.

It is a truth, that in his penitential years, viewing some of those pieces that had been loosely—God knows, too loosely—scattered in his youth, he wished they had been abortive, or so short-lived that his own eyes had witnessed their funerals; but, though he was no friend to them, he was not so fallen out with heavenly poetry, as to forsake that; no, not in his declining age; witnessed then by many divine sonnets, and other high, holy, and harmonious composures. Yea, even on his former sick-bed he wrote this heavenly hymn, expressing the great joy that then possessed his soul, in the assurance of God's favour to him when he composed it:—

"AN HYMN

"TO GOD THE FATHER

"Wilt Thou forgive that sin where I begun,

Which was my sin, though it were done before?

Wilt Thou forgive that sin through which I run,

And do run still, though still I do deplore?

When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done,

For I have more.

"Wilt Thou forgive that sin, which I have won

Others to sin, and made my sin their door?

Wilt Thou forgive that sin which I did shun

A year or two:—but wallow'd in a score?

When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done,

For I have more.

"I have a sin of fear, that when I've spun

My last thread, I shall perish on the shore;

But swear by Thyself, that at my death Thy Son

Shall shine as He shines now, and heretofore;

And having done that, Thou hast done,

I fear no more."

I have the rather mentioned this hymn, for that he caused it to be set to a most grave and solemn tune, and to be often sung to the organ by the choiristers of St. Paul's Church, in his own hearing; especially at the Evening Service; and at his return from his customary devotions in that place, did occasionally say to a friend, "the words of this hymn have restored to me the same thoughts of joy that possessed my soul in my sickness, when I composed it. And, O the power of church-music! that harmony added to this hymn has raised the affections of my heart, and quickened my graces of zeal and gratitude; and I observe that I always return from paying this public duty of prayer and praise to God, with an unexpressible tranquillity of mind, and a willingness to leave the world."

After this manner did the disciples of our Saviour, and the best of Christians in those ages of the Church nearest to His time, offer their praises to Almighty God. And the reader of St. Augustine's life may there find, that towards his dissolution he wept abundantly, that the enemies of Christianity had broke in upon them, and profaned and ruined their sanctuaries, and because their public hymns and lauds were lost out of their Churches. And after this manner have many devout souls lifted up their hands and offered acceptable sacrifices unto Almighty God, where Dr. Donne offered his, and now lies buried.