say, they are either to hide some vice, or to proclaim one: to hide disorder, or proclaim pride."

Wood has insinuated that he was unworthy to be made a bishop, and it must be owned he often betrayed a carelessness and indifference to the dignity of his public character. Of this we have abundant proof, if credit be due to Aubrey's MSS. in the Ashmolean Museum, from which Mr. Headley made the following extract.

"After he was doctor of divinity, he sang ballads at the Crosse at Abingdon; on a market-day he and some of his comrades were at the taverne by the Crosse, (which, by the way, was then the finest of England: I remember it when I was a freshman: it was admirable curious Gothicque architecture, and fine figures in the nitches; 'twas one of those built by king......... for his queen.) The ballad-singer complayned he had no custome—he could not put off his ballads. The jolly doctor puts off his gowne, and puts on the ballad-singer's leathern jacket, and being a handsome man, and a rare full voice, he presently vended a great many, and had a great audience.

"After the death of Dr. Goodwin, he was made deane of Christ-Church. He had a good interest with great men, as you may finde in his poems; and that with the then great favourite the duke of Bucks, his excellent wit ever 't was of recommendation to him. I have forgot the story; but at the same time Dr. Fell thought to have carried it, Dr. Corbet put a pretty trick on him to let him take a journey to London for it, when he had alreadie the graunt of it.

"His conversation was extreme pleasant. Dr. Stubbins was one of his cronies; he was a jolly fat doctor, and a very good house-keeper. As Dr. Corbet and he were riding in Lob Lane in wet weather, ('t is an extraordinary deepe dirty lane,) the coach fell, and Corbet said, that Dr. S. was up to the elbows in mud, and he was up to the elbows in Stubbins.

"A. D. 1628, he was made bishop of Oxford; and I have heard that he had an admirable grave and venerable aspect.

"One time as he was confirming, the country people pressing in to see the ceremonie, said he, Beare off there! or I'll confirm ye with my staffe.'-Another time, being to lay his hand on the head of a man very bald, he turns to his chaplaine, and said, 'Some dust, Lushington,' to keepe his hand from slipping. There was a man with a venerable beard: said the bishop, You, behind the beard!'

"His chaplaine, Dr. Lushington, was a very learned and ingenious man, and they loved one another. The bishop would sometimes take the key of the wine-cellar, and he and his chaplaine would go and lock themselves in and be merry: then first he layes down his episcopal hood, There layes the doctor;' then he putts off his gowne, There layes the bishop;" then t' was, ' Here's to thee, Corbet;'- Here's to thee, Lushington.""

6

Ben

The following early specimen of his humour was copied by Mr. Gilchrist from a collection of “ Mery Passages and Jeastes," Harl. MS. No. 6395: "Ben Jonson was at a tavern, and in comes bishop Corbet (but not so then) into the next room. Jonson calls for a quart of raw wine, and gives it to the tapster. Sirrah!' says he, carry this to the gentleman in the next chamber, and tell him I sacrifice my service to him. The fellow did, and in those terms. Friend!' says bishop Corbet, I thank him for his love; but pr'ythee tell him from me that he is mistaken, for sacrifices are always burnt.'"

Fuller says of him that he was "of a courteous courage, and no destructive na

ture to any who offended him, counting himself plentifully repaired with a jest upon him."

His poems after passing through three editions, were lately very carefully revised and published by Mr. Gilchrist, with the addition of an excellent life, notes and illustrations. The liberality of Messrs Longman, the proprietors of this edition, has enabled me to avail myself of Mr. Gilchrist's text, and a part of his notes, which are distinguished by his initial.

As a poet, it will not be found that Corbet stands eminently distinguished. His thoughts, however, are often striking and original, although delivered in the uncouth language of his times, and seldom indebted to correctness of versification. His faults are in general those of the age in which he wrote, and if he fills no conspicuous place in poetical history, it ought not to be forgot that he wrote for the amusement of the moment, and made no pretensions to the veneration of posterity. His principal objects were gaiety and merriment at the expense of the more glaring follies of his day; of his serious efforts, it may be justly said that his feeling was without affectation and his panegyric without servility.

TO THE READER.

(FROM EDITION 1648.)

READER,

I HEERE offer to view a collection of certaine pieces of poetry, which have flowne from hand to hand, these many yeares, in private papers, but were never fixed for the publique eie of the worlde to looke upon, till now'. If that witt which runnes in every veyne of them seeme somewhat out of fashion, because tis neither amorous nor obscene, thou must remember that the author, although scarse a divine when many of them were written, had not only so masculine but even so modest a witt also, that he would lett nothing fall from his pen but what he himselfe might owne, and never blush, when he was a bishop; little imagining the age would ever come, when his calling should prove more out of fashion than his witt could. As concerning any thing else to be added in commendation of the author, I shall never thinke of it; for as for those men who did knowe him, or ever heard of him, they need none of my good opinion: and as for those who knew him not, and never so much as heard of him, I am sure he needs none of theirs. Farewell.

From hence it should seem that the edition 1647 was not published at the time this preface was written. G.

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