that my employment and ingine concur to make them, like Jacob's days, few and evil"—"The best is, I care as little for them as their fame; yet if you do not mislike them, it is warrant enough for me to let them live till they get your doom. In this sonnet 1 have sent you an approbation of your own life, whose character, howsoever I have mist, I have let you see how I love it, and would fain praise it, and, indeed, fainer practice it" The poem thus diffidently introduced, has had a more fortunate fate than was probably contemplated for it by its author. It is entitled "A Sonnet in praise of a Solitary Life;" and we are gratuitously informed at the end, that "the date of this starved rhyme, and the place, was the very bed-chamber where I could not sleep." Sir Robert Kerr was indeed, a character for whom Drummond might well entertain a high respect In the remarkable adventure above alluded to, and for which he became very famous, he was not only acquitted of all blame by his own friends, but even lord Maxwell, the brother of the gentleman killed, generously protested that they should never quarrel with, nor dislike him on that account
There is only one letter recorded of Drummond to mark that an intimacy had existed between him and his countryman the celebrated Arthur Johnston, the Latin poet It is rather a short essay, on the subject of poetry, indeed, than a letter, written, says he, "not to give you any instruction, but to manifest mine obedience to your request" We shall quote a passage or two from this piece, not so much on account of any general excellence, as to show that Drummond, though he tolerated, and in some few instances adopted them, well understood the errors of the English poets of his time, and that he properly appreciated the purer taste displayed in the earlier models:—"It is more praiseworthy," thus it begins, "in noble and excellent things to know something, though little, than in mean and ignoble matters to have a perfect knowledge. Amongst all those rare ornaments of the mind of man, poesy hath had a most eminent place, and been in high esteem, not only at one time, and in one climate, but during all times, and through all those parts of the world, where any ray of humanity and civility hath shined: so that she hath not unworthily deserved the name of the mistress of human life, the height of eloquence, the quintessence of knowledge, the loud trumpet of fame, the language of the gods. There is not anything endureth longer: Homer's Troy hath outlived many republics, and both the Roman and Grecian monarchies: she subsisted! by herself; and after one demeanour and continuance, her beauty appeareth to all ages. In vain have some men of late (transformers of every thing) consulted upon her reformation, and endeavoured to abstract her to metaphysical ideas and scholastical quiddities, denuding her of her own habits, and those ornaments with which she hath amused the world some thousand years." We might well quote more, or. indeed the whole of it, for the essay, if it may be called such, is very short; but we must make this serve. It naturally occurs to notice how much the classical taste of. Johnston must have harmonized with that of his contemporary, and how in the junction of two such minds much mutual benefit must have been communicated. In that language which became him as his own, Johnston has written a few commendatory verses on his friend, which, in the fashion of the time have been regularly prefixed to the collections of Drummond's poems.
The most remarkable incident which has descended to us, connected with the literary life of our poet, was the visit with which the well-known English dramatist, Ben Jonson, honoured him, in the winter of 1618-19. Upon this, therefore, we would desire to be somewhat particular, and the materials we have for being so, are not so barren as those which refer to other passages. Ben Jonson was a man of much decision, or what, on some occasions, might no doubt be termed
