But suddenly a storm spoils all the sport,
And makes him long for a more quiet port,
Which 'gainst all adverse winds may serve for fort.

So he that saileth in this world of pleasure,

Feeding on sweets, that never bit of th' sowre, That's full of friends, of honour and of treasure, Fond fool, he takes this earth ev'n for heav'n's bower.

But sad affliction comes and makes him see
Here's neither honour, wealth, nor safety;
Only above is found all with security.

O Time the fatal wrack of mortal things,

That draws oblivion's curtains over kings, Their sumptuous monuments, men know them not, Their names without a Record are forgot, Their parts, their ports, their pomp's all laid in th' dust,

Nor wit, nor gold, nor buildings 'scape time's rust; But he whose name is graved in the white stone Shall last and shine when all of these are gone.

OLD AGE RECOUNTS THE HISTORY OF THE PURITAN PERIOD
-FROM THE FOUR AGES OF MAN.

What you have been, ev'n such have I before,
And all you say, say I, and something more;
Babe's innocence, Youth's wildness I have seen,
And in perplexed middle-age have bin;
Sickness, dangers, and anxieties have past,
And on this Stage have come to act my last:
I have bin young, and strong, and wise as you,
But now, Bis pueri senes, is too true;
In every Age I've found much varietie,
An end of all perfection now I see.

It's not my valour, honour, nor my gold,

My ruin'd house, now falling can uphold;

It's not my Learning, Rhetoric, wit so large,

Now hath the power, Death's Warfare to discharge;
It's not my goodly house, nor bed of down,
That can refresh, or ease, if Conscience frown;
Nor from alliance now can I have hope,
But what I have done well, that is my prop;
He that in youth is godly, wise, and sage,
Provides a staff for to support his age;
Great mutations, some joyful, and some sad,
In this short Pilgrimage I oft have had;
Sometimes the Heavens with plenty smil'd on me,
Sometimes again, rain'd all adversity;
Sometimes in honour, and sometimes in disgrace,
Sometimes an abject, then again in place.
Such private changes oft mine eyes have secn,
In various times of state I've also been.
I've seen a kingdom flourish like a tree,
When it was rul'd by that celestial she;
And like a cedar, others to surmount,
That but for shrubs they did themselves account;
Then saw I France, and Holland saved, Cales won,
And Philip, and Albertus, half undone;
I saw all peace at home, terror to foes,
But ah, I saw at last those eyes to close;
And then, methought, the world at noon grew dark,
When it had lost that radiant sun-like spark,
In midst of griefs, I saw some hopes revive
(For 'twas our hopes then kept our hearts alive),
I saw hopes dasht, our forwardness was shent,
And silene'd we, by Act of Parliament.
I've seen from Rome, an execrable thing,
A plot to blow up Nobles, and their King;
I've seen designs at Ru, and Cades crost,
And poor Palatinate for ever lost;

I've seen a Prince, to live on others' lands,
A Royal one, by alms from subjects' hands,
I've seen base men, advanc'd to great degree,
And worthy ones, put to extremity:

But not their Prince's love, nor state so high;
Could once reverse their shameful destiny.
I've seen one stabb'd, another lose his head;
And others fly their Country, through their dread.
I've seen and so have ye, for 'tis but late,
The desolation of a goodly State,
Plotted and acted, so that none can tell,
Who gave the counsel, but the Prince of hell.
I've seen a land unmoulded with great pain,
But yet may live to see't made up again:
I've seen it shaken, rent, and soak'd in blood,
But out of troubles, ye may see much good.
These are no old wives' tales, but this is truth;
We old men love to tell what's done in youth.

ALEXANDER MEETS DARIUS—FROM THE FOUR MONARCHIES OF THE WORLD,

And on he goes Darius for to meet;

Who came with thousand thousands at his feet,
Though some there be, and that more likely, write,
He but four hundred thousand had to fight,
The rest attendants, which made up no less;
(Both sexes there) was almost numberless.
For this wise King had brought to see the sport;
Along with him, the Ladies of the Court.
Ilis mother old, beauteous wife, and daughters,
It seems to see the Macedonian's slaughters
Sure it's beyond my time, and little art,
To shew, how great Darius play'd his part;
The splendor, and the pomp, he marched in,
For since the world, was no such pageant seen.
Oh, 'twas a goodly sight, there to behold
The Persians clad in silk, and glitt'ring gold;
The stately Horses trapt, the launces gilt,
As if they were now all to run at tilt:
The Holy fire, was borue before the Host
(For Sun and Fire the Persians worship most);
The Priests in their strange habit follow after;
An object not so much of fear, as laughter.
The King sat in a chariot made of gold,
With Robes and Crown, most glorious to behol
And o'er his head, his golden gods on high,
Support a parti-coloured canopy.

A number of spare horses next were led,
Lest he should need them, in his chariot's stead.
But they that saw him in this state to lye,
Would think he neither thought to fight nor fly,
He fifteen hundred had like women drest,
For so to fright the Greeks he judg'd was best.
Their golden Ornaments so to set forth,
Would ask more time, than were their bodies worth.
Great Sisigambis, she brought up the Rear;
Then such a world of Wagons did appear,
Like several houses moving upon wheels:
As if she'd drown, whole Sushan at her heels.
This brave Virago, to the King was mother;
And as much good she did, as any other.
Now lest this Gold, and all this goodly stuff,
Had not been spoil, and booty rich enough,
A thousand Mules, and Camels ready wait,
Londen with gold, with jewels and with plate,
For sure Darius thought, at the first sight,
The Greeks would all adore, and would none fight.
But when both armies met, he might behold,
That valour was more worth than pearls, or gold.
And how his wealth serv'd but for baits t'allure,
Which made his over-throw more fierce and sure.
The Greeks come on, and with a gallant grace,
Let fly their arrows in the Persian's face;
The Cowards feeling this sharp stinging charge,
Most basely run, and left their King at large,
Who from his golden coach is glad t'alight,
And cast away his crown, for swifter flight;
Of late, like some immoveable he lay,
Now finds both legs, and horse, to run away;

Two hundred thousand men that day were slain,
And forty thousand prisoners also tane;
Besides, the Queens, and Ladies of the Court,
If Curtius be true, in his report.

THE FLESH AND THE SPIRIT.

In secret place where once I stood
Close by the banks of Sacrim flood,
I heard two sisters reason on

Things that are past and things to come.
One Flesh was called, who had her eye
On worldly wealth and vanity;
The other spirit, who did rear
Her thoughts into a higher sphere:
Sister, quoth Flesh, what liv'st thou on,
Nothing but meditation?

Doth contemplation feed thee so
Regardlessly to let earth go?
Can speculation satisfy,

Notion without reality!

Dost dream of things beyond the moon

And dost thou hope to dwell there soon?
Hast treasures there laid up in store,

That all in th' world thou count'st but poor?
Art fancy sick or turn'd a sot

To catch at shadows which are not?
Come, come, I'll show unto thy sense,
Industry hath its recompense.

What canst desire, but thou mayst see
The substance in variety!

Dost honor like? acquire the same,
As some, to their immortal fame:
And trophies to thy name erect,
Which wearing time shall ne'er deject.
For riches dost thou long full sore?
Behold enough of precious store;
Earth hath more silver, pearls, and gold,
Than eyes can see or hands can hold.
Affect'et thou pleasure? take thy fill,
Earth hath enough of what you will.
Then let not go what thou may'st find
For things unknown, only in mind.
Spr. Be still, thou unregen'rate part,

Disturb no more my settled heart,
For I have vow'd (and so will do)
Thee as a foe still to pursue;
And combat thee with will, and must
Until I see thee laid in th' dust.
Sisters we are, yea, twins we be,
Yet deadly feud 'twixt thee and me;
For from one father are we not,
Thou by old Adam wast begot;
But my arise is from above,
Whence my dear father I do love.
Thou speak'st me fair, but hat'st me sorc,
Thy flatt'ring shows I'll trust no more.
How oft thy slave hast thou me made,
When I believ'd what thou hast said,
And never had more cause of woe
Than when I did what thou bad'st do.
I'll stop my ears at these thy charms,
And count them for my deadly harms.
Thy sinful pleasures I do hate,
Thy riches are to me no bate,
Thy honors do nor will I love,
For my ambition lies above.
My greatest honour it shall be,
When I am victor over thee,
And triumph shall, with laurel head,
When thou my eaptive shalt be led:
How I do live thou need'st not scoff
For I have meat thou know'st not of;
The hidden manna I do ent,
The word of life it is my ment.
My thoughts do yield me more content

Than can thy hours in pleasure spert.
Nor are they shadows which I catch,
Nor fancies vain at which I snatch;
But reach at things that are so high
Beyond thy dull capacity;
Eternal substance I do see,

With which enriched I would be;
Mine eye doth pierce the heavens, and see
What is invisible to thee.

My garments are not silk nor gold,
Nor such-like trash which carth doth hold,
But roval robes I shall have on,

More glorious than the glist'ning sun;
My crown not diamonds, pearls, and gold,
But such as angels' heads infold.
The city where I hope to dwell,
There's none on earth can parallel;
The stately walls, both high and strong,
Are made of precious jasper stone;
The gates of pearl, both rich and clear,
And angels are for porters there;
The streets thereof transparent gold,
Such as no eye did e'er behold;

A christal river there doth run,

Which doth proceed from the Lamb's throne:

Of life there are the waters sure,

Which shall remain for ever pure;

Nor sun, or moon, they have no nced,

For glory doth from God proceed:

No candle there, nor yet torch light,
For there shall be no darksome night.

. From sickness and infirmity,

For evermore there shall be free,

Nor withering nge shall e'er come there,
But beauty shall be bright and clear;
This city pure is not for thee,

For things unclean there shall not be;
If I of heaven may have my fill.
Take thou the world, and all that will

PETER FOLGER.

PETER FOLGER, the maternal grandfather of Benjamin Franklin, and only child of John Folger, came to America with his father from Norwich, England, in 1635, at the age of eighteen. They settled soon after their arrival at Martha's Vineyard, where John died in 1660, leaving a widow, Meribell, who was living in 1663.

Peter married, in 1644, Mary Morrell, an inmate in the family of the celebrated Hugh Peters, who is said to have been a fellow-passenger of the Folgers in their voyage to America. In 1663 he removed to Nantucket, and was among the first settlers of that island. He was one of five commissioners to lay out land, a task for, which he was well qualified by his knowledge of surveying; and the words of the order prove the estimation in which he was held in the community, it being therein stated, that "whatsoever shall be done by them, or any three of them, Peter Folger being one, shall be accounted legal and valid."

Ile learned the language of the Indians, and was of much service as an interpreter. The aid rendered by him in this manner to the Rev. Thomas Mayhew, the Indian missionary at Martha's Vineyard, is thus recorded by Thomas Prince in his account of that good and able man, the ancestor of the great Dr. Mayhew, of the Revolution.

"He had," says Princo, "an able and godly Englishman, named Peter Folger, employed in teaching the youth in reading, writing, and the

principles of religion by catechizing; being well learned likewise in the Scriptures, and capable of helping them in religious matters." A long letter to his son-in-law, Joseph Pratt, is a further proof of his familiarity with the Scriptures, and with religious topics, and he is said to have occasionally preached. He died in 1690, and his wife in 1704. They had two sons and seven daughters, the youngest of whom, Abiah, was Franklin's mother.

A few lines in the autobiography of his grandson, have buoyed up Peter Folger into inmortality as an author. "I was born at Boston, in New England. My mother, the second wife, was Abiah Folger, daughter of Peter Folger, one of the first colonists of New England, of whom Cotton Mather makes honourable mention, in his Ecclesiastical History of that province, as a pious and learned Englishman, if I rightly recollect his expressions. I have been told of his having written a variety of little pieces; but there ap pears to be only one in print, which I met with many years ago. It was published in the year 1675, and is in familiar verse, agreeably to the tastes of the times and the country. The author addresses himself to the governors for the time being, speaks for liberty of conscience, and in favour of the anabaptists, quakers, and other sectaries, who had suffered persecution. To this persecution he attributes the wars with the natives, and other calamities which afflicted the country, regarding them as the judgments of God in punishment of so odious an offence, and he exhorts the government to the repeal of laws so contrary to charity. The poem appeared to be written with a manly freedom and a pleasing simplicity."

The outbreaks of opinion and half-framed utterances of the Nantucket surveyor, were to be clarified, in the third generation, into the love of liberty and the clear-toned expression of the essayist, philosopher, and patriot. The title of Folger's poem is, A Looking-glass for the Times, or the Former Spirit of New England revived in this generation. It was reprinted in 1763. Copies of it are very rare. We are indebted for the one from which we have reprinted, to a MS. copy in possession of Mr. Bancroft.

A LOOKING-GLASS FOR THE TIMES, OR THE FORMER SPIRIT OF
NEW ENGLAND REVIVED IN TH18 GENERATION

Let all that read these verses know,
That I intend something to show
About our war, how it hath been
And also what is the chief sin,
That God doth so with us contend
And when these wars are like to end.
Read them in love; do not despise
What here is set before thine eyes.
New England for these many years
hath had both rest and peace,
But now the case is otherwise;

our troubles doth increase.
The plague of war is now begun
in some great colonies,

And many towns are desolate
we may see with our eyes.
The loss of many goodly men
we may lament also,

Who in the war have lost their lives,
and fallen by our foe.

Our women also they have tock
and children very small,
Great cruelty they have used
to some, though not to all

The enemy that hath done this,
are very foolish men,
Yet God doth take of them a rod
to punish us for sin

If we then truly turn to God,
He will remove his ire,
And will forthwith take this his roc
And cast it into fire.

Let us then search, what is the sin
that God doth punish for;
And when found out, cast it away
and ever it abhor.

Sure 'tis not chiefly for those sins,
that magistrates do name,
And make good laws for to suppress,
and execute the same.

But 'tis for that same crying sin,
that rulers will not own,
And that whereby much cruelty
to brethren hath been shown

The sin of persecution

such laws established,

By which laws they have gone so far, as blood hath touched blood.

It is now forty years ago,

since some of them were made, Which was the ground and rise of all the persecuting trade.

Then many worthy persons were
banished to the woods,
Where they among the natives did,

lose their most precious bloods. And since that, many godly men,

Have been to prison sent, They have been fined, and whipped alsv. and suffered banishment.

The cause of this their suffering was not for any sin,

But for the witness that they bare against babe sprinkling.

Of later time there hath been some men come into this land,

To warn the rulers of their sins as I do understand.

They call on all, both great and small, to fear God and repent;

And for their testimonies thus
they suffer a punishment.

Yea some of them they did affirm,
that they were sent of God,
To testify to great and small
that God would send his rod

Against those colonies, because
they did make laws not good;
And if those laws were not repeal'd

the end would be in blood.

And though that these were harmless men, and did no hurt to any,

But lived well like honest men,

as testified by many;

Yet did these laws entrap them so, that they were put to death,And could not have the liberty

to speak near their last breath.

But these men were, as I have heard,
against our College men;
And this was, out of doubt to me,
that which was most their sin.

They did reprove all hirelings,
with a most sharp reproof,
Because they knew not how to preach
till sure of means enough.

Now to the sufferings of these men
I have but gave a hint;

Because that in George Bishop's book you may see all in print.

But may we know the counsellors
that brought our rulers in
To be so guilty as they are,
of the aforesaid sin?

They were the tribe of ministers,
as they are said to be,
Who always to our magistrates
must be the eyes to see.

These are the men that by their wits have spun so fair a shred,

That now themselves and others are of natives in a dread.

What need is there of such a fear

if we have done no ill!

But 'tis because that we have been

not doing of God's will

When Cain had slain his brother, thea began this fear to be,

That every man would do to him the same that did him see.

The Scripture doth declare the cause why Cain did kill his brother;. It was because the deeds of one was good, and not the other. Because that God did favor show to Abel more than he, That was in verity the thing that envy could not see.

Then let us all, both great and small, take heed how we do fight Against the spirit of the Lord, which is our highest light Let Magistrates and ministers consider what they do: Let them repeal those evil laws and break those bands in two

• George Bishop, a Quaker, published "New England Judged, not by man's but by the Spirit of the Lord, and the sum sealed up of New England's persecutions; being a brief relation of the sufferings of the Quakers in that part of America from the beginning of the fifth month, 1656, to the end of the tenth month, 1660; wherein the ernel whippings and scourgings, bonds and imprisonments, and burning in the hand, and cutting off of ears, banishinent upon pain of death, and putting to death, &c., are shortly touched," 1661. A second part appeared in 1667, and both were reprinted in 1708, with Answer to Cotton Mather's Abuses in his late History of New England, by John Whiting, with an Appendix."

An

Bishop Joined the Quakers in 1654. He was the author of several works on the doctrines of the sect to which he belonged, published at intervals from 1660 to 1668,

Which have been made as traps and snares to catch the innocents,

And whereby it has gone so far

to acts of violence.

I see you write yourselves in print,
the Balm of Gilead;
Then do not act as if you were
like men that are half mad.

If you can heal the land, what is
the cause things are so bad?

I think instead of that, you make

.

the hearts of people sad.

Is this a time for you to press,

to draw the blood of those

That are your neighbours and your friends? as if you had no foes.

Yea, some there are, as I have heard, have lately found out tricks

To put the cause of all the war
upon the heretics,

Or rather on some officers,
that now begin to slack
The execution of those laws,
whose consequence is black.

I do affirm to you, if that
be really your mind,
You must go turn another leaf,
before that peace you find.

Now, loving friends and countrymen,
I wish we may be wise,

'Tis now a time for every man
to see with his own eyes.

Tis easy to provoke the Lord
to send among us war,
Tis easy to do violence,
to envy, and to jar.

To show a spirit that is high,
to scorn and domineer;
To pride it out, as if there were
no God to make us fear;

To covet what is not our own,
to cheat and to oppress,
To live a life that might free us
from acts of Righteousness;

To swear and lie, and to be drunk,
to backbite one another;
To carry tales that may do hurt
and mischief to our brother!

To live in such hypocrisy,

as men may think us good,

Although our hearts within are full
of evil and of blood.