Caesar; besides that place had been
long sollicited by that worthy gentleman for his son, and it would
have been thought an ill-natured office, to have by any means
prevented it.

It luckily happened at this time, that the Provostship of his
Majesty's college at Eaton became vacant by the death of Mr. Murray,
for which there were many earnest and powerful sollicitations. This
place was admirably suited to the course of life Wotton resolved to
pursue, for the remaining part of his days; he had seen enough of the
world to be sick of it, and being now three-score years of age, he
thought a college was the fittest place to indulge contemplation, and
to rest his body and mind after a long struggle on the theatre of
life. In his suit for this place he was happily successful, and
immediately entered into holy orders, which was necessary, before
he could take possession of his new office. Walton has related the
particular manner of his spending his time, which was divided between
attendance upon public devotion, the more private duties of religion,
and the care which his function demanded from him of the affairs of
the college. In the year 1639 Sir Henry died in Eaton-College, and
was buried in the chapel belonging to it. He directed the following
sentence to be put upon a marble monument to be erected over him.

Hic jacit hujus sententiae primus author. Disputandi
pruritus ecclesiarum scabies. Nomen alias
quaere.

Which may be thus rendered into English;

Here lyeth the first author of this sentence.

The itch of disputation will prove the scab of the
church.

Enquire his name elsewhere.

Sir Henry Wotton has been allowed by all critics to be a man of
real and great genius, an upright statesman, a polite courtier,
compassionate and benevolent to those in distress, charitable to the
poor, and in a word, an honest man and a pious christian. As a poet he
seems to have no considerable genius. His versification is harmonious,
and sometimes has an air of novelty, his turns are elegant, and his
thoughts have both dignity and propriety to recommend them. There is a
little piece amongst his collections called the World, which we shall
quote, before we give an account of his works.

The world's a bubble: and the life of man,
Less than a span.
In his conception wretched: from the womb,
So to the tomb,
Nurst from his cradle, and brought up to years,
With cares and fears.
Who then to frail mortali