t Tower Wharf on the 6th of
the same month; and the 16th of February following, after having lain
in state, it was magnificently deposited in St. Paul's Cathedral.

As the funeral of many princes has not exceeded it in solemnity, so
few have equalled it in the undissembled sorrow for his loss[5] King
James writ an epitaph upon him, and the Muses of Oxford lamenting him,
composed elegies to his memory. It may be justly said of this great
man, what a celebrated poet now living has applied to Archbishop Laud,

Around his tomb did art and genius weep,
Beauty, wit, piety, and bravery, were undissembled
mourners.

He left behind him one child named Elizabeth, (married to the earl of
Rutland) whom he had by Sir Francis Walsingham's daughter, and who
unfortunately died without issue to perpetuate the living virtues
of her illustrious family. She is said to have been excessively
beautiful; that she married the earl of Rutland by authority, but
that her affections were dedicated to the earl of Essex, and as Queen
Elizabeth was in love with that nobleman, she became very jealous of
this charming countess. It has been commonly reported[6] that Sir
Philip, some hours before his death, enjoyned a near friend to
consign his works to the flames. What promise his friend returned is
uncertain, but if he broke his word to befriend the public, posterity
has thank'd him, and every future age will with gratitude acknowledge
the favour.

Of all his works his Arcadia is the most celebrated; it is dedicated
to his sister the countess of Pembroke, who was a Lady of as fine a
character, and as equally finished in every female accomplishment, as
her brother in the manly. She lived to a good old age, and died
in 1621. Ben Johnson has wrote an epitaph upon her, so inimitably
excellent, that I cannot resist the temptation of inserting it here.
She was buried in the Cathedral Church of Salisbury, among the graves
of the family of the Pembrokes.

EPITAPH.

Underneath this marble hearse,
Lyes the subject of all verse,
Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother,
Death e're thou hast killed another,
Learned and fair, and good as she,
Time shall throw his dart at thee.

The Arcadia was printed first in 1613 in 4to; it has been translated
into almost every language. As the ancient AEgyptians presented secrets
under their mystical hyeroglyphics, so that an easy figure was
exhibited to the eye, and a higher notion couched under it to the