But Donne was in the wrong mood. He was animated rather by cynicism than by deep sentiment, and so produced a number of satiric hits instead of a solemn indictment. At the same time his conduct of the poem was spoiled by a serious defect in construction. He deals only

with the moments of exit of the soul from various bodies, so that from one point of view the poem is merely a succession of violent deaths, at once monotonous and uninspiring. In the stanzas themselves appears a fault we have met before, a lack of taste, a deficient sense of beauty. Donne could always find a vigorous description or simile, but he was as likely to choose one grotesque or disgusting as one that was beautiful.

The poem leaves with us an impression of energy, sometimes of power. We feel, too, an urge of hidden thought which never gains expression, but all these are struggling against a tide of pessimism and ugliness. It is indeed a "sullen Writ," and in being so aptly depicts Donne's state of mind. For his later life shows that he was even now at heart an idealist, craving for faith, both religious and in woman. It is easy to see from this poem that both his religious faith and his belief in woman had suffered shipwreck, and his suffering found vent in bitter sarcasm. He could not know that he was about to view some things, at any rate, from a much more pleasing angle.

T

V

He

HE Lady Egerton of the period when Donne joined the household was the second wife of Sir Thomas, and sister of Sir George More. The latter was Lieutenant of the Tower and a favourite of the Queen. had much business in London, and maintained a close friendship with the Lord Keeper's family, frequently staying at York House himself, and bringing Anne, his third daughter, to visit there. In 1600 Lady Egerton died and so highly did the Lord Keeper esteem Anne, that for the time being she acted as mistress of the house. She was then barely sixteen, her duties were many and important, and she doubtless found invaluable the help of the brilliant secretary, who knew so well how to make himself attractive.

They would inevitably be thrown much together, and a mutual liking sprang up, which, aided by the curious fact that there was no woman of mature years in the household, blossomed into strong affection, and gave rise to a clandestine courtship. It is difficult to judge of Donne's conduct at this period. He must certainly be acquitted of a calculating spirit. The least deliberation would have shown him that for a secretary to entrap into marriage the daughter of a wealthy aristocrat who was under the protection of his own master was a sure way to dismissal. And Donne's post was not one to be lightly risked; it is almost certain

that Egerton would have recommended him to the Queen for promotion. What must have happened is that Donne succumbed at once to the charm of the young girl. In such case it would not be in his nature to count the cost or be conscious of anything but the object of his regard.

Donne's love for Anne More differed essentially from his previous passions. In all the poems which may reasonably be thought addressed to her there is a new note of reverence and a new absence of coarseness. It was this attachment which first set Donne's feet upon the road which led him from naturalism and a crude scepticism to mysticism and a high endeavour after faith. From this point Donne went steadily forward. He seems to have clung to his belief in his wife as to a symbol, and his chaotic outlook gradually acquired something of harmony. It is curious how this change is reflected in his verse.

The first poem which seems to be written under the influence of his new love contains all his old impetuosity and no little arrogance; it is entitled "The Canonization." He is expostulating with someone who interferes with his day-dreaming.

For Godsake hold your tongue, and let me love,
Or chide my palsie, or my gout,

My five gray haires, or ruin'd fortune flout,

With wealth your state, your minde with Arts
improve,

Take you a course, get you a place,
Observe his honour, or his grace,
Or the Kings reall, or his stamped face
Contemplate, what you will, approve,
So you will let me love.

Alas, alas, who's injur'd by my love?

What merchants ships have my sighs drown'd? Who saies my teares have overflow'd his ground? When did my colds a forward spring remove? When did the heats which my veines fill Adde one more to the plaguie Bill?

Soldiers finde warres, and Lawyers finde out still
Litigious men, which quarrels move,

Though she and I do love.

Their tale shall be told in verse; they shall be canonized for love; all shall address them

And thus invoke us; You whom reverend love
Made one anothers hermitage;

You, to whom love was peace, that now is rage.

No wonder Donne was absorbed. "Reverend love," above all a love which was peace, was a Here at least, his out

new experience for him.

look is definitely changed.

The first line of this poem is deservedly famous, and, in its kind, is equalled by Donne only once, in the first two lines of the quatrain from "Loves Deitie," which, though not relevant, is quoted here for comparison.

I long to talke with some old lovers ghost,

Who dyed before the god of Love was borne:
I cannot thinke that hee, who then lov'd most,
Sunke so low, as to love one which did scorne.

In the next poem-The Anniversarie-Donne's headlong strength is subdued to the wonder of his new experience. There is in it a simplicity of diction and a delicacy-almost a bashfulnessof thought which are very charming. Donne's naturalism is fast retreating before an ideal.

The course of true love ran smoothly until toward the end of 1600, when Sir Thomas Egerton married for the third time. This meant that Anne had to leave York House, the more so as her grandfather had died, and her father, being now master of the family seat at Loseley, needed her services. The lovers had therefore to part, but not before some faithful promises were "so interchangeably passed as never to be violated by either party." The separation was not complete, for Anne came several times to London with her father after the Parliament met in 1601, and on each of these occasions seems to have had a private interview with Donne. During this year it became evident to those in the secret that matters were approaching a climax, and "the friends of both parties used much diligence, and many arguments to kill or cool their affections to each other: but in vain." The effect of these remonstrances on Donne was exactly what one would suppose, for in December of 1601 Anne More and he were secretly married. Christopher Brooke, whom he had first met at Oxford, and to whom he had sent The Storme and "The Calme," gave away the bride; Samuel Brooke, a younger brother of Christopher,