Miscellaneous Prose Works - Forgotten Books

THE

MISCELLANEOUS PROSE WORKS

fi n WALTER SCOTT, lam .

LIFE OF DRYDEN.

THE LIFE

JOHN DRYDEN,

SIR WA LTER SCOTT, BA RT .

ROBERT CADELL , EDINBURGH

WHITTAKER AND CO., LONDON.

1834.

NOT IC E.

THE presen t Edition of SirWalter Scott’sNIis

cellan eou s Prose Works will i nclu de manyp iece s whi ch were n ever u n t il n owc ollec ted,

or pr in ted with his n ame . The whole will

be arranged, as n early as possible, in chro

n ological order, thu s illu strating the c ou r se

o f the au thor’s studi es an d exer ti on s ; and

accompan i ed with n otes, in whi ch occas ional

mi s takes are rec tifi ed, deficien c ies fi lled up,

an d the observat ion s of con temporary cr i tics

quoted or c onden sed . Mr Tu rn er has u n der

t aken the p ic tor i al embelli shmen t of the ser i e s,by representat ions of many of the in tere stingscen es described in the text .

The B iograph ical depar tmen t will in clude,bes ides the Memoirs of Dryden an d Swift,tho se of the B r it i sh Novelist s, an d a vari etyof Sketches hi therto scattered over differen t

vol. z’

.

1V NOTICE.

exten s ive an d expen s i ve collec tions : To these

v olumeswill be attached Portrai ts ofDRYDEN,

SWIFT, SMOLLETT, and MA CKENZIE. In the

L ife of Napoleon, the text i s c orrec ted an d

par tly an notated by th e A uth or ; margi n ald ate s are appended, in compli ance wi th hisin struction s t o his executor s ; an d, i n addi ti on

t o Portraits and Mr Turner’s Des ign s, th is

Editi on i s enr i ched with Map s of the Emperor

’

s Campaigns .The most importan t article s con tribu ted by

SirWalter S c ott t o per i odi cal publi cati on s, aren owfor the fi rs t time to appear in companywi th the pros e wr it ings or igi n ally s an c tion ed

by his n ame .The Ser ie s will close wi th the TA LES OF A

GRANDFATHER, an d the Editor anti cipates

th at the whole w ill be c ompr i sed wi th intwen ty- fou r volumes, the last of which will,of cou rs e, inclu de a cop iou s index.

March, 1834.

ADVERTISEMENT.

[Thefollowing“ADVERTISEMENT is extracted from

the Preface to TheWorks of John Dryden, nowfirstcollected ; illustrated with Notes, historical, critical,and explanatory, and a Life of the Author, byWalterScott, Esq. 1 8 volumes, 8vo . London, —ofwhich p ublication a second edition app eared in Edinburgh in 1821 . Thosep arts of the Prefacewhich relate

n ot to the L ife of D ryden,”but to the A u thor

’

s Edition

of his Works, have been omitted on the p resen t occasionbu t much imp ortan t matter, originally scattered over

seven teen volumes, in the shap e of Notes, has nowbeenapp ended to the Memoir, which has thus, it is hop ed,been rendered more comp lete and satisfactory for the

p urp oses of p ersons who do not happ en to p ossess S ir

W. S cott’s Edition of D ryden .

l The p resen t Ed itor

has also availed himself, on some occasions, of the laboursof Mr D

’Israeli, and other literary antiquaries, who

have recently thrown additiona l light on subjects handledin this B iographical Essay.

—ED .]

_IN the B iograph ical Mem01r of Dryden ,

i t wou ld have been hard to exac t, that " the

l [The reference s in the presen t volume are to the.

Edi tionof Dryden ’s Works of

Editor should r i val the cr i t i c i smof John son ,or produ ce fac ts wh i ch had e scaped the accu

racy of Malone . Wh ile, however, he has

availed hims elf of the labours of both, par t ic ularly of the latter, whose i ndustry has re

mov ed the cloud wh ich so long hung over th eeven ts ofDryden ’ s li fe, he has endeavou red to

t ake a di fferen t an dmore enlarged v iewof thesu bj ec t than th at whi ch his predeces sors have

pre sen ted. The general cr i tical v i ewofDry

den ’s work s being sketched by John son wi th

u nequalled felic i ty, an d the i n c iden ts of his

life accurately d iscussed an d ascer tain ed by

Malone, s omething seemed to remain for himwho should con sider these li terary produc tion s

in their su c ces s ion , as ac tu ated by, an d opera

t ing u pon, the taste of an age, where they had

so predomin an t infl uence and who migh t, atth e same time, con nec t the life of Dryden

wi th the hi story of h i s publi c ation s, wi th ou t

los ing s ight of the fate an d charac ter iof the

ind iv idu al. Howfar th i s end has been attain

ed,i s n ot for the Editor to gu e ss, e spec ially

when , as u sual at the close of a work, he fin ds

he is po sses sed of dou ble the in formation hehad when he commen ced it. The ki ndn ess of

Mr Octav iu s G ilchr i s t,who undertook a j ou r

ADVERT ISEMENT. v ii

ney to Nor th ampton shire to exami n e the pres en t state of Ru sh ton , where Dryden often

res ided, and of Mr Finlay 1 of Glasgow, whofavou red th e Editor wi th the u se of some ori

gin al ed it ion s, are here gratefully acknowledged .

9

[John Fin lay, au thor of Wallace, or the Vale of Ellerslie,and other poems, d ied in h is twen ty- eighth year, in

9 [The B iograph y of Dryden was n ot composed by any of

h i s con temporar ies . Dr John son , who wrote the first authen t ic l ife of th e poet, complain ed that n o th ing cou ld bekn own of Dryden beyon d what casu al men t ion and u n certaintrad i tion suppl ied . S in ce that t imeman ymi stakes have beenrect ified, and omiss ion s su pp l ied, by th e d il igen t researches ofMalon e ; an d we are n ow probably in possession of al l the

in format ion wh ich i t i s possible to produ ce. S irWalter Scot thas ju stly fou n ded h is n arrat ive on the facts recorded in Ma

lon e’s biography ; wh i le he h as taken a more compreh en s ivev iewof the gen iu s an d wr i tings of th e poet, an d the in fl u en cewhich b e exerci sed on th e L i teratu re of the age. When we

therefore con sider the fairn ess an d fel ic i ty of John son ’

s cri ti

cal d i squ i si t ion s ; th e tru th el ic i ted, or errors rectified byMalon e’s d i l igen ce ; an d th e l i vely, in terest ing, an d in stru ot ive n arrat ive of Scott, wemay j u stly con sider that Drydenhas been fortu n ate in h i s b iographers.

”-M1Troan

’

s L ife ofD ryden, 1832 ]

CONTENTS

OF VOLUME FIRST.

Tm: L IFE or JOHN DRYDEN.

S ECT . I.- Prel iminary Remarks on the Poetry of Eng

land before the C ivil Wars—The L ife of Drydenfromhis B irth t ill the Restoration—His early Poems,including the A nnu s M irabilis,

S ECT . IL—Revival of the Drama at the RestorationHeroic Plays—Comedies of In trigu e—Commen cemen t of Dryden ’s Dramatic Career—The Wild Gallan t —Riva1 Ladies—Indian Queen and EmperorDryden ’s Marriage—Essay on Dramatic Poetry, andsubsequ en t Con troversy with Sir Robert HowardTheMaiden Qu een—The Tempest—S irMartin Mar

al l—The Mock A strologer—The Royal MartyrThe Two Parts of the Conqu est of Granada—Dry

den ’s S ituation at this Period,S ECT . I I I .—Heroic Plays—The Rehearsal—Marriagea- la-Mode The A ssignation Con troversy withClifford—with Leigh—with Raven scroft—Massacreof AmboynaF - S tate of Innocen ce,

Srcr . IV.—Dryden ’s Con troversy with Settle—with

Rochester—He i s assau lted i n Rose S treet—A u rengZebe—Dryden meditates an Epic Poem—All forLove—Limberham—(Edipus—Troilus and Cressida

PACK

CONTENTS .

._ The Spanish Friar—Dryden supposed to be inopposition to the

S ECT . V.—Dryden engag es in Pol itics—Absalomand

A chitophel, Part First—The Medal—Mac-Fleckn oe

Absalomand A chitophel, Part Second—The Dukeof Gu ise

S ECT . VI .—Thren odie A ugustalis—Albion and Alba~n iu s—Dryden becomes a Catholic—The Con troversyof Dryden with S tillingfleet - The Hin d and Pan therL ife of S t Fran ci s Xavier—Con sequ en ces of the

Revolu tion toDryden—Don Sebastian—Kin g A rthur- Cleomen es—Love Triumphan t,

S E CT . VIL—State of Dryden ’s Conn exion s in S ocietyafter the Revolu tion—Juvenal and Persiu s—Smal lerPieces—Eleon ora—Third Miscellany—Virgil—Odet o S t Cecilia— Dispu te withMilboume—with Blackmore—Fables—The A u thor’s Death and Fun eralHis private Character—Notices of his

S ECT . VI I I .—The S tate of Dryden ’s Repu tation athis Death, and afterwards—The gen eral Characterof his Mind—His Meri t as a Drama tist—A s a Lyrical Poet—A s a Satirist - A s a Narrative Poet - A s

a Phi losophical and Miscellan eou s Poet —A s a Tran s ‘later—As a. Prose A uthor—As a

PAGE

L IFE OF JOHN DRYDEN.

SECTION 1 .

Preliminary Remarks on the Poetry of England before theCivil Wars The L ife of D ryden fromhis B irth till theRestoration—11219 early Poems, i ncluding the Anna:

M'

rabilis.

”

THE L ife of Dryden may be said to comprehend ahistory of the literature ofEngland, and its changes,dur ing nearly half a century. While his great contemporaryMilton was in silence and secrecy layingthe foundation of that immortal fame, whi ch n o

poet has so highly deserved, Dryden’s labour swere

ever in the eye of the public ; and he maintained,from the time of the Restoration till his death, in1 700, a decided and acknowledged superiority overall the poets of his age. A s he wrote from neces

sity, he was obliged to pay a certain deference toVOL . I. A

2 LIFE or JOHN DRYDEN

the public opinion ; for he, whose bread dependsupon the success of his volume, is compelled tostudy popularity : but, on the other hand, his better judgment was often directed to improve that ofhis readers ; so that he alternately influenced andstooped to the nat ional taste of the day. If, therefore, we would know the gradual changes whichtook place in our poetry dur ing the above period,we have only to consult the writings of an author,who produced yearly some new performance, allowed to be most excellent in the part icular style whichwas fashionable for the time. It is the object ofthis Memo ir to connect, with the account of Dryden’s life and publications, such a general view ofthe literature of the time, as may enable the readerto estimate howfar the age was indebted to thepoet, and how far the poet was influ enced by thet aste and manners of the age. A fewpreliminaryremarks on the literature of the earlier part of theseventeenth century will form a necessary in trodu ction to thi s Biographical Memoir .

When James I . ascended the throne of England,he came to rule a. court and people, as much dist inguished for literature as for commerce and arms.Shakspeare was in the zenith of his reputation,and England possessed other poets, inferior to

Shakspeare alone or, indeed, the higher order ofwhose plays may claim to be ranked above the inferior dramas ascribed to him . Among these we mayreckon Massinger, who approached to Shakspearein dignity ; Beaumont and Fletcher,who surpassedhimin drawing female charact ers, and those of

L IFE OF JOHN DRYDEN. 3

polite and courtly life ; and Jonson,who attemptedto supply, by depth of learning, and laboured accuracy of character, the want of that flowof imagination, which natu re had denied to him .

1 O thers,who flour ished in the reign of James and his son,though little known to the general readers of thepresent age even by name, had a just claim to bed istinguished from the common herd of authors .Ford, Webster, Marston, Brome, Shirley, evenChapman and Decker, added lustre to the stage forwhich they wrote. The drama, it is true, was thebranch of poetry most successfully cultivated ; forit afforded the most ready appeal to the publi ctaste. The number of theatres then open in all

parts of the city, secured to the adventurous poetthe means of having his performance representedupon one stage or other and he was neither tiredn or disgusted by the difficulties, and disagreeableObservances, which must nowbe necessarily undergone by every candidate for dramatic laurels? But,although during the reigns of Queen Elizabeth and

1 Then Jonson came, instructed fromthe school,To ph ase in method , and Inven t by ru le ;H is stu diou s patience and labori ous art,By regu lar approach assa il ’d the heart ;Cold Approbati on gave the hng ‘

ring bays ;For those. who durst not censure scarce cou ld praise.

A mortal bo rn . hemet the general d oom,

Bu t left, like Egypt’s kings, a lasting tomb.DR Jormsom]

a I do not pretend to en ter in to the qu estion of the effect ofthe drama u pon morals. If th is shal l be fou n d prej ud icial,two theatres are too man y. Bu t, in the presen t wofu l dec l in e of theatrical exh ibition , wemay be permi tted to remember, that the garden erwhowishes to have a rare d iversi ty of

4 L IFE OF JOHN DRYDEN.

James I., the stag e seems to have afforded the principal employment of the poets, there wanted not

many who cultivated, with success, the other de

partments of Parnassus . It is only necessary to

name Spenser, whose magic tale continues to interest u s, in despite of the languor of a continuedallegory ; Drayton, who, though less known, possesses perhaps equal powers of poetry Beaumontthe elder, whose poem on Bosworth F ield carriesus back to the days of the Plantagenets ; Fairfax,the translator of Tasso, the melody of whose numbers became the model of Waller ; besides manyothers, who ornamented thi s era of British literature.Notwithstanding the Splendour of these great

names, it must he confessed, that one commonfau lt, in a greater or less degree, pervaded the

most admired poetry of Queen Elizabeth’s age .This was the fatal propensity tofalsewit to substitu te, namely, strange and unexpected connexions of sound, or of idea, for real humour, andeven for the effusions of the stronger passions . Itseems likely that this fashi on arose at court, asphere in which its denizens never think they movewith due lustre, until they have adopted a formof

expression, aswell as a system ofmanners, differentfrom that which is proper to mankind at large. In

a common flower, sowswhole beds wi th the spec ies ; an d thatt hemon opoly gran ted to two huge theatres mu st n ecessarilyd imin i sh , in a compl icated rat io, both the n umber of playwriters, and the chance of any th ing very excellen t beingbrought forward.

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6 L IFE or JOHN DRYDEN.

worlds ou t of his own imagination, descended tolow, and often ill - timed puns and quibbles. Thiswas not an evil to be cured by the accession of ou rS cottish James, whose qualifications as a punsterwere at least equal to his boasted kz

'

ng- craft. ‘

The false taste, which had been gaining groundeven in the reign of Elizabeth, now overflowed thewhole kingdomwith the impetuosity of a landflood. These outrages upon language were committed without regard to time and place . Theywere held good arguments at the bar, thoughBacon sat on the woolsack ; and eloquence irresistible by the most hardened sinner, when Kingor Corbet were in the pulpit.’ Where grave andlearned professions set the example, the poets, itwill readily be believed, ran headlong into anerror, for which they could plead such respectableexample. The afl

'

ectat ion of the word” and of

the letter, for alli teration was almost as fashionable

1 So that learn ed and sapien tmon arch was pleased to callh is sk i l l in pol i t ics.

9 Wi tn ess a sermon preach ed at St Mary’s before th e Un iv ersi ty of Oxford . It i s tru e the preacher was a layman , an dharan gu ed in a gold chain , and girtwi th a sword, as h ighsheriff of the cou n ty ; bu t h is eloqu en ce was h ighly applau dedby the learn ed body whomhe addressed, although i t wou ldhave startled amod ern au d ience, at least asmu ch as the dresso f the orator. A rriv ing,” said he, at the Mou n t of S tM ary’s, in the ston y stagewhere I n ow stan d, I have brough tyou some fi ne biscu i ts, baked in the oven of char i ty, carefu l lycon served for th e ch icken s of the chu rch, the sparrows of th espir i t

, and the sweet swallows of salvation .

” Wh ich wayof preach ing.

" says A n thon y Wood, the reporter of the homi ly, was then mostly in fash ion , and commen d ed by thegen eral i ty of scholars.

”—A thenee 020m, vol. i ., p. 183.

L IFE or JOHN DRYDEN. 7

as punning, seemed, in some degree, to bring backEnglish composition to the barbarous rules of theancient An glo - Saxons, the merit of whose poemsconsisted, not in the ideas, but in the quaint arrangement of the words, and the regular recurrence ofsome favourite sound or letter.This peculiar taste for twisting and playing upon

words, instead of applying them to their naturaland proper use,was combined with the similar extravagan ce of those whom Dr Johnson has entitledMetaphysical Poets . This clas s of authors usedthe same violence towards images and ideas whi chhad formerly been appli ed to words in truth, thetwo styles were often combined, and, even whenseparate, had a kindred alliancewi th each other . Itis the business of the punster to discover and yoketogether two words, which, while they have someresemblance in sound, the more exact the better,convey a totally different signification. The metaphysical poet, on the other hand, piqued himself indis covering hidden resemblances between ideasapparently the most dissimilar, and in combining,by some violent and compelled association, illustrations and allusions utterly foreign from each other.Thus did the metaphysical poet resemble the quibbler, exercising precisely the same tyranny overideas, which the latter practised upon soun ds onlyJonson gave an early example of metaphysical

poetry ; indeed, it was the natural resour ce of amind amply stored with learning, gifted with atenacious memory and the power of constant labour,but to which was deni ed that vivid perception of

8 LIFE or JOHN DRYDEN.

what is naturally beautiful, and that happiness ofexpression, whi ch at once conveys to the reader theidea of the poet. These latter qualities un ite inmany passag es of Shakspeare, of which the readerat once acknowledges the beau ty, the justice, andthe simplicity. But such Jonson was unequal toproduce ; and he su bst ituted the strange, forced,and most unnatural, though ingenious analogies,which were afterwards copied by Donne and Cowley.

l In reading Shakspeare, we oft en meet passages so congenial to our n ature and feelings, that,beautiful as they are, we can hardly help wonderingthey did not occur to ourselves ; in studying Jouson , we have often to marvel how his conceptionscould have occurred to any human being. Theon e is like an ancient statue, the beauty of which,springing from the exactness of proportion, doesn ot always strike at first sight, but rises upon u s aswe bestow time in considering it the other is therepresentation of a monster, which is at first onlvsurprising, and ludicrou s or disgusting ever aft er .When the taste for simplicity, however, is oncedestroyed, it is long ere a nation recovers it ; andthe metaphysical poets seem to have retained possession of the public favour from the reign ofJamesI . till the beginning of the civil wars silenced theMuses . The universities were perhaps to blame

1 L ook at'

Ben Jon son ’s Ode to the Memory of S ir Lnc iu s Carey an d S ir H. Mori son ,” an d atmost of h is pin daricsan d lyrical pieces. Bu t Ben , when be pleased, could assumethe garb of class ic simpl ici ty ; wi tn ess many of h is lesserpoems.

LI FE OF JOHN DRYDEN. 9

during this period of usurpation ; for which it maybe admitted in excuse, that the metaphysical poetrycould only be practised by men whose minds weredeeply stored with learning, and who could boldlydrawupon a large fund of acqui red knowledge forsupplying the expenditure of far - fetched and extravagant images, which their compositions required .

The book of Nature is before all men ; but whenher limits are to be overstepped, the acquirement ofadvent itiou s lmowledge becomes of paramount n ecessity ; and it was but natu ral that Cambridge andOxford should prize a style of poetry, to whichdepth of learning was absolutely indispensable.

I have stated, that the metaphysical poetry wasfashionable during the early part of Charles theFirst’s reign . It is true, that Milton descended toupbraid that unfortunate prin ce, that the chosen companion of his private hourswas on e I’Vz

'

llz'

amShaksp ea re, a p layer but Charles admitted less sacredpoets to share his partial ity. Ben Jonson suppliedhis court with masques, and his pageants withverses and, n otwithstanding an ill - natu red sto ry,shared no inconsiderable portion of his bounty.

l

Donne, a leader among the metaphysical poets,withwhom King James had punned and quibbled in

In Jon son ’s last i lln ess, Charles i s said to have sen t himten pieces. He send sme somi serab le a don ation ,” said th eexpiring satiri st, because I ampoor, an d l ive in an alley ;go back an d tel l him, h is soul l ives in an alley.

" Whateverbe the tru th of thi s trad i t ion ,we know, froman epigrambyJon son , that the k ing at on e t ime gave h im a hu n dredpou nds ; no tr ifl ing g ift for a poor bard, even in the presen td ay.


person,l shared, in a remarkable degree, the goodgraces of Charles I.

, who may therefore be supposed no enemy to his vein of poetry, althoughn either his sincere piety nor his sacred office re

strained him from fantastic indulgence in extravagant conceit, even upon the most solemn themeswhi ch can be selected for poetry.

2 Cowley,who,with the learning and acuteness of Donne, possessedthe more poetical qualit ies of a fertile imagination,and frequent happiness of expression, and whoclaims the highest place of all who ever plied theunprofitable trade of combining dissimilar and re

pugnan t ideas, was not indeed known to the kingduring his prosperity ; but his talents recommended

1 A bou t a year after h is retu rn ou t of German y, Dr Careywasmad e B ishop of Exeter ; an d by h i s removal the dean ryo f S t Pau l’s being vacan t, the k ing sen t to Dr Don n e, an d appo in ted himto attend him at d in n er the n ext day. Whenh is maj esty was sate down , before he had eat anymeat, hesaid, al ter h is pleasan t mann er, Dr Donn e, I have in vi tedyou to d in n er ; an d thou gh you si t n ot down wi thme, yet Iwi l l carve to you of a d ish that I kn ow you love wel l ; forkn owing you love L on don , I do thereforemake you Dean of

Pau l ’s and when I have d in ed, then do you take you r beloved d ish home to you r stu dy ; say grace there to you rse lf,and mu ch good may i t do you .

—WA LrON’

s L ife qfD on n e .

3 See hi s Verses to Mr George Herber t, sen t himwi thon e ofmy seals of the an chor an d Christ. A sheaf of sn akesu sed heretofore to be my seal, wh ich i s the crest of ou r poorfamily.” Upon the su bj ect of th is change of dev ice he thusqui bbles

A dopted in God 's family, and soMy old coat lost, in to newarms Igo ;The crossmy seal, in baptismspread below,Does by that formi n to an an chor grow:

Crosses growanchors ; bear as thou shou ldst doThy cross, and that crossgrows an anchor too,” &c.

L IFE OF JOHN DRYDEN. l l

him at the mili tary court of Oxford, and the mostingenious poet of the metaphysical class enjoyedthe applause of Charles before he shared the exileof his consort Henrietta. Cleveland also was hon oured with the early notice of Charles ; 1 one of

the most distinguished metaphysical bards, whoafterwards exerted his talents of wit and satir eupon the royal side, and strained his imag inationfor extravagant invective against the Scottish army,who sold their king, and the parliament leaders,who bought him. All these, and others u nn eces

sary to mention, were read and respected at court ;being esteemed by their contemporaries, and doubtless believing themselves, the

‘wonder of their own ,

and the pattern of succeeding ages ; and howevermuch they might differ from each other in partsand genius, they sought the same road to poet icalfame, by starting the most unn atural images whichtheir imaginations could conceive, or by huntingmore common allusions through the most minuteand circumstan tial particulars and ramifications .Yet, though during the age of Charles I . the

metaphysical poets enjoyed the larger proportionof public applause, au thors were not wanting whosought other modes of distinguishing themselves .Milton,who must not be named in the same paragraph with others, although he had not yet meditated the sublime work whi ch was to carry hi sname to immortality, disdained, even in his lessercompositions, the preposterous conceits and learned

See h is L ife, prefixed to h is Poems, 12mm. 1677 .

1 2 L IFE or JOHN DRYDEN.

absurdit ies, by which his contemporar ies acquiredd istinct ion. Some of his slighter academic prolusions are, indeed, tinged with the prevailing tasteof his age, or, perhaps, were written in ridicule ofit ; but no circumstance in his life is more remarkable, than that Comus,

” the Monody on Lyci

das,” the A llegro and Penseroso,

” and the Hymnon the Nati v ity,

” are unpolluted by the metaphysical j argon and affected language which the ageesteemed indi spensable to poetry. This refusalto bend to an evil so prevailing, and which heldou t so many temptat ions to a youth Of learning andgenius, can only be ascribed to the natural chastityof Milton’s taste, improved by an earnest andeager study of the purest models of antiqu ity.

But besides Milton,who stood aloof and alone ,there was a race of lesser poets, who endeavou redto glean the refuse of the applause reaped byDonne, Cowley, and their followers, by adopt ingornamentswhich the lat t er had neglected, perhaps,because they could be attainedwithout much labou r,or abstru se learning. The metaphysical poets, intheir slipshod pindarics, had totally despised, notonly smoothness and elegance, but the commonrhythm of versificat ion . Many and long passagesmay be read without perceiv ing the least differencebetween them and barbarous, j ingling, ill- regulated prose ; and in appearance, though the linesbe divided into unequal lengths, the eye and earacknowledge little difference between them and theinscription on a tomb - stone. In a word, not onlyharmony of numbers, but numbers themselves,

'

1 1L LI FE or JOHN DRYDEN.

serious and sequestered lives in acquiring the knowledge and learning which they squandered in theirpoetry. Necessity, therefore, and perhaps a dawning of more simple taste, impelled these courtlypoets to seek another and more n atural mode ofpleas ing. The melody of verse was a provin ceu noccupied, and Waller, forming his rhythmuponthe modulation of Fairfax, and other poets of themaiden reign, exhibited in his very first poemstr iking marks ofattention to the su avityofnumbers .Denham, in his dedication to Charles IL, in formsus, that the indulgence ofhis poetical vein had drawnthe notice, although accompanied with the gen tlecensure, of Charles I., when, in 1647, he obtainedaccess to his person by the intercession of HughPeters. Suckling, whom Dryden has termed asprightly wit, and a courtly writer, may be addedto the list of smooth and easy poets of the period,and had the same motives as Denham and Wallerfor attaching himself to that style of composition .

He was allowed to have the pecul iar art of makingwhatever he did become him ; and it cannot bedoubted, that his light and airy style of ballads and

1 A Poemon the danger Charles L , being Prince, escapedin the Road at S t A n dero.

”[Dryden h imself calls Waller

the father ofou rEngl ish Numbers.” He says, Imen tion himfor honou r’s sake ; an d amd esirou s on al l occasion s o f layinghold on hi s memory an d the reby ackn owledging to th eworld, that u n less he had wr i tten , n on e of u s cou ld wri te.”See Pref. to Walsh ’s Dialogu e. Fen ton says, Wal ler spen tthe greatest part of a summer in correcting a p oemof ten lmes,those wri tten in the Tasso of the Duchess of York.” - Seo

Mrrronn’s L ife q rz/den, p .


sonnets had many admirers . Upon the whole, thisclas s Of poets, although they hardly div ided thepopular favour with the others, were also noticedd applauded . Thus the poets Of the earlier part

of the seventeenth century may be divided into on eclass, who sacrificed both sense and sound to theexercise of extravagant, though ingenious, associe tions of imagery ; and a second, who, aiming to

distinguish themselves by melody Of versificat ion ,

were satisfied wi th light and triv ial subj ects, and,too Often contented with attaining smoothness of

measure, neglected the more essential qu alitiesof poetry.

The intervention of the civil wars greatly interrupted the study Of poetry. The national attentionwas called to other Objects, and those who, in theformer peaceful reigns, would have perhaps di st inguished themselves as poets and dramatists, weren ows truggling for fame in the field, or declaimingfor power in the senate. The manners of the prevailing party, their fanatical detestation Of everything like elegant or literary amusement, theiraffected horror at stage representations, which atonce silenced the theatres, and their contempt forprofane learning, which degraded the un iversities,all operated, du ring the civil wars and succeedingusurpation, to check the pursuits Of the poet, bywithdrawing that public approbation , whi ch is thebest, and Often the sole, reward Ofhis labour. Therewas, at this time, a sort of interregnum in the publictaste, as well as in its government. The same poetswere no doubt alive who had distinguishe d them


selves at the cou rt of Charles : but Cowley andDenham were exiled with their sovereign Wallerwas awed into silence, by the rigour Of the ptan ic spirit ; and even the mu se Of Milton wass cared from him by the clamour of religious andpolitical controversy, and only returned like asincere friend, to cheer the adversity of one whohad neglected her dur ing his career of worldlyimportance.During this period, the most unfavourable to

literature which had occurred for at least twocentu ries, Dryden, the subject Of this Memoir,was gradually and silently imbibing those storesOf learning, and cultivating that fancy, whi ch wasto do so much to further the reformation of tasteand poetry. It is now time to state his descentand parentage .The name Of Dryden is local, and probably

originated in the north of England, where, as

well as in the neighbouring counties of Scotland ,it frequently occurs, though it is not nowborne byany person of distinction in those parts. DavidB riden, or Dryden, married the daughter ofWilliam Nicholson of Staff- hill, in the county Of Cumberland, and was the great- great- grandfather of

our poet. John Dryden, eldest son Of David,settled in Northamptonshire, where he acquiredthe estate of Canons - A shby, by marriage withEli zabeth, daughter and heiress of Sir John CopeOf that county. Wood says, that John Drydenwas by profession a schoolmaster, and honouredwith the friendship of the great Erasmus, who


stood godfather to one of his sons .

1 He appears,from some passag es in his will, to have entertainedthe puritanical principles, whi ch, we shall presentlyfind, descended to his family.

’2 Erasmus Driden ,

his eldest son , succeeded to the estate of CanonsA shby, was high- sheriff of Northamptonshire inthe fortieth year of Queen Elizabeth, and wascreated a knight baron et in the seventeenth of KingJames I . Sir Erasmus married Frances, seconddaughter and co - heiress of WilliamWilkes of

Hodnell, in Warwickshire, by whom he had threesons,—first, S ir John B riden, his successor in thetitle and estate of Canons - A shby ; second, William B riden of Farndon, in Northamptonshire ;thi rd, Erasmus B riden Of Tichmarsh, in the samecounty. The last of these was the father of theoet.PE rasmus Driden married Mary, the daughter of

the Reverend Hen ry Pickering, younger son of

Sir Gilbert Pickeri ng. a person who, though inconsiderable favour with James I., was a zealouspur itan, and so noted for Opposition to the Catholics,that the conspirators in the Gunpowder Treason,

l Fasli 0mm, vol . i . , p . 1 15. Con sidering John D ryden ’smarr i age wi th the heiress of aman of kn ightly rank , i t seemsu n l ikely that b e followed the profession of a schoolmaster.B u t Wood could hardly be mi staken in the secon d c ircumstance, some of the fami ly having glor ied in i t in h is h ear ing .

2 See COLLINs’

B arond age, vol. ii . The testator bequ eathsh is sou l to h is Creator,wi th thi s singu lar expression Of con fi

d ence, the Holy Ghost assur ing my sp iri t, that I amtheelect of God.

VOL . I.


his own brother- in - lawbeing one of the number,1 hadresolved upon his individual murder, as an episodeto the main plot, determining, at the same time, soto conduct it, as to throw the suspicion Of thedestruction of the Parliament upon the puritans .2

These principles, we shall soon see, became hereditary in the family of Pickering. Mr Malone’sindustry has collected little concerning our author’s

Robert Keles, execu ted 31st Jan u ary, 1606, ofwhomFuller, in h i s Chu rch History, tells the following an ecdoteA few days before the fatal blow shou ld have been g iven ,

Keles, being at Tichmarsh, in Northampton shire, at his brother- ln - law’s hou se, Mr Gi lbert Pickering, a Protestan t, hesudden ly wh ipped ou t h is sword, an d in merr imen t mademan y offers therewi th at the heads, n ecks, and sides of severalgen tlemen an d lad ies then in h is compan y. Itwas then takenfor amere frol ic, an d so passed accord ingly ; bu t afterwards,when the treason was d i scovered, such as remembered hi sgestu res thought he pract ised what he in ten ded to do whenthe plot shou ld take effect ; that i s, to hack an d hew, k i ll andd estroy, all emin en t person s of a d ifferen t rel igion fromhimself.”—CauLFIELn ’

s H istory of t/wGu np owder Plot .The following cu riou s story is told to that effect, in Cau l

fi eld’s H i story of the Gun powder Plot, p . 67 : There was

a Mr Picker ing of Tichmarsh- Grove, in Northampton sh ire,whowas in great esteemwi th King James. Thi s Mr Pickeri ng had a horse of special n ote for swiftn ess, on which b e u sedt o hu n t wi th the k ing. A l i ttle before the blowwas to beg iven. Mr Keles, on e of the con spirators, an d brother- in - lawt o Mr Pickering, borrowed th is horse of him, an d conveyedh imto L on don u pon a bloody design, wh ich was thu s cont rived —Fawkes, u pon the day Of the fatal blow,was appo in ted to ret ire h imself in to S t George’s Fields, where th i s horsewas to atten d him, to further h is escape (as theymade himb el ieve) as soon as the Parl iamen t shou ld be blown u p. I twas l ikewi se con trived, that Mr Pickering, who was n otedfor a pu r i tan , shou ld that morn ing be mu rdered in h i s bed ,and secretly con veyed away ; an d also that Fawkes, as soon

LIFE OF JOHN DRYDEN. 19

maternal grandfather, excepting that he was borni n 1584 ; named minister Of Oldwinkle A ll - Saint sin 1 647 and died in 1657 . From the time whenhe attained this preferment, it is highly probablethat he had been recommended to it by the puritan ical tenets which he doubtless held in common withthe rest of his family.

Of the poet ’s father, Erasmus, we know evenless than of his other relations . He acted as ajustice of peace during the usu rpation, and wasthe father of no less than fourteen children ; foursons, and ten daughters . The sons were John ,E rasmus,Henry, and James ; the daughters, A gnes,

as he came in to George's Fi eld s, shou ld be there mu rdered,an d somangled, that he cou ld n o t be known ; u pon wh ich, i twas to be spread abroad, that the pu ri tan s had blown u p th eParl iamen t - hou se ; an d the better to make the world bel ievei t, there was Mr Picker ing wi th his cho ice horse ready toescape, bu t that stirred u p some, who seeing the hein ou sn esso f the tact, an d himready to escape, in detest at ion of so hor

r ible a d eed, fel l u pon him, an d hewed him to pieces ; an dt omake i tmore clear, there was h is horse, known to be ofs pec ial speed and swiftn ess, ready to carry him away ; an du pon th i s rumou r, amassacre shou ld have gon e through thewhole lan d u pon the pu ri tan s.When the con tr ivan ce of th is plotwas d i scovered by some

Of the con spirators, an d Fawkes, who was n owa pri son er inthe Tower,made acqu ain ted wi th i t, whereas before h e wasmade to bel ieve by h is compan ion s, that he shoul d be boun t ifu l ly reward ed for that good service to the Cathol ic cau se,n owperceiving, that on the con trary, his death had been con

t rived by them, he thereu pon freely con fessed all that he kn ewcon cern ing that horrid con spiracy, wh ich before al l the tormen ts of the rack cou ld n ot force himto do. The tru th ofth is was attested by Mr Wi ll iam Perkin s,who had i t fromMr Clemen t Cotton , towhomMr Pickering gave th e aboverelation .

”

20 LIFE OF JOHN DRYDEN.

Rose, Lucy, Mary, Martha, Elizabeth, Hester,Hannah, A bigail, Frances. Such anecdotes con

cern ing them as my predecessors have recovered,may be found in the note .

1

JOHN DRYDEN, the subject Of this memoir, wasborn at the parsonage house of Oldwinkle A llSaints, on or abou t the 9th day Of A ugust, 1631 .

The village then belonged to the family of Exeter,as we are informed by the poet himself, in the

postscript to his Virgil. That his family werepu ritans may readily be admitted ; but that theywere anabaptists, although confidently asserted bysome of our author’s political or poetical an tago

n ists, appears altogether improbable. Notwithstanding, therefore, the sarcasm of the Duke ofBuckingham, the register Of Oldwinkle All- Saintspar ish, had it been in existence, would probably

Erasmu s, the poet’s immed i ate youn ger brother, was int rade, and resided in King- street,Westmins ter. He su cceededto the family ti tle an d estate u pon the death of S ir John Dry

d en , an d d ied at the seat of Canon s-A shby, 3d November,1 718, leav in g one daughter an d five gran d son s. Hen ry, thepoet’s th ird brother,wen t to Jamaica, an d d ied there, leavinga son , Rich ard. James, the fou rth of the son s, was a tobaccon ist in L on don , an d d i ed there, leaving two dau ghters. Of

the daughters,MrMalon e, after O ldys, says, that A gn esmar

r ied Sylvester Emelyn of Stan ford, Gen t. that RosemarriedL au ghton of Calworth, D . D. , in the cou n ty of Hu n t ing

t on ; that L u cy became the wife of Stephen Umwell of L on

don ,merchan t ; an d Martha of Bletso ofNorthampton .

A n other of the daughters wasmarr ied to on e Shermard in e, abooksel ler in L i ttle Bri tain ; and Fran ces, the you ngest, toJoseph San dwel l, a tobaccon ist in Newgate street . Th is lastd ied , loth October, 1730, at the advanced age of n in ety. She

had su rvived the poet abou t th irty years. Of the remain ingfou r sisters, n o notices occur .

22 LI FE OF JOHN DRYDEN.

many other exercises Of the same natu re, in English verse, none of which are nowin existence .

l

Dur ing the las t year Of his residence at Westminster, the death of Henry Lord Hastings, a youngn obleman of great learning, and much beloved,called forth no less than ninety- eight elegies, oneof which was written by our poet, then abouteighteen years Old. They were published in 1650,under the title of L achrymce Musarum.

”

Dryden, having Obtained a Westminster scholarship, was admitted to Trinity College, Cambridge, on the 1 1th May, 1650, his tutor being thereverend John Templer, M.A ., a man of somelearning,who wrote a Latin Treatise in confutationof Hobbes

,and a fewtheological tracts and single

sermons . While at college, our author’s condu ctseems not to have been uniformly regular. He wasubjected to slight punishment for contumacy to thevice -master,2 and seems, according to the statementOf an Obscure libeller, to have been engaged insome public and notorious dispute with a noble

I remember, says D ryden , in a postscript to th e argumen t of the th ird sat ire of Persiu s, I tran slated this satirewhen I was a king

’s scholar at Westmin ster schoo l, for

Thu rsday n igh t's exerc i se ; an d bel ieve, that i t, and many

o ther ofmy exerc i ses of th is n ature in Engli sh verse, are sti llin th e b an d s ofmy learn ed master, th e Re v. Dr Bu shby.”

The followin g order i s qu oted, by Mr Malon e, from theConclu sion - book, in th e arch ives ofTr in i ty College, p . 221.

Ju ly 19, 165 2. A greed, then , That D ryden be pu t ou t ofComou s, for a fortn igh t at least ; and that he goe n ot ou t of

the colledg, du ring the t ime aforesaid, excepting to sermon s,wi thou t express leave fromthe master, or v ice-master and

t hat, at the end of the fortn igh t, h e read a confession of his


man’s son, probably on account of the indulgence ofhis turn for satire. l He took, however, the degreeof Bachelor, in January 1 658—4, but neither hecame Master of A rts, 2 nor a fellow of the university, and certainly never retained for it much ofthat veneration usually paid by an English scholarto his Alma Mater . He often celebrates Oxford,but only mentions Cambridge as the contrast of thesister u niversity in point of taste and learning :

Oxford to hima dearer n ame shal l beThan h is own mother- u n iversi tyThebes d id h is green , u nkn owing you th engage ;He chooses A then s in h is riper age." 3

A preference so uncommon, in one who hadstudied at Cambridge, probably originated in thoseslight disgraces, or perhaps in some other cause Ofdisgust,which we may n owsearch for in vain .

In June 1 654, the death of his father, ErasmusDryden, proved a temporary interruption to our

au thor’s studies . He left the university, on thisoccasion, to take possession of his inheritance, con

crime in the hall, at d inn er- t ime, at the three fel lowestable. H is crime was, h is d isobed ience to the vice-master,an d h is con tumacy in tak ing his pu n i shmen t in flicted by him.

”

1 Shadwell, in the Medal of John Bayes,

A t Cambridge first your scurrilous vein began,Where sau cily you tradu ced a nobleman ;Who for that crime rebuked you on the head,And you had been expell

’

d, had you not fled."

2 He rece ived th i s degree by d ispensation from the A rchbishop Of Can terbury .

3 Prologu e to the Un iversity of Oxford, [Dryden’

s Works ]vol. x., p. 385 .


s isting of two - thirds of a small estate near Blakesley, in Northampton shire, worth, in all, about sixtypounds a- year. The other third part Of this smallproperty was bequeathed to his mother during herlife, and the property reverted to the poet after herdeath in 1676. With this little patrimony ourau thor returned to Cambridge,where he continueduntil the middle of the year 1657 .

Although Dryden’s residence at the un iversitywas prolonged to the un usu al space of nearly sevenyears, we do not find that he d istingui shed himself,during that time, by any poetical prolu sions, excepting a few lines prefixed to a work, entitled, Sionand Parnassus ; or Epigrams on several Texts ofthe Old and NewTestaments,

” published in 1650,by John Hoddesden .

1 Mr Malone conjectures,that our poet would have contributed to the academic collection Of verses, entitled, Oliva Pacis,

”

and published in 1654, on the peace between England and Holland, had not his father’s death interfered at that period. It is probable we lose butlittle by the di sappearance Of any Occasional verseswhi ch may have been produced by Dryd

’

en at thi s

Jon athan Dryden , elected a scholar fromWestmin sterin to Trin i ty College, Cambr idge, in 1656, ofwh ich he becamefellow in 1662, was au thor of some verses in th e Cambr idgeCol lect ion s in 1661 , on the death of the Duke of Glou cester,an d themarri age of the Prin cess of Orange ; an d in 1662, on

themarr i age of Charles I I . , wh ich have been impu ted to our

au thor. A n order, qu oted by Mr Malon e, for abatemen t ofth e commencemen t-mon ey paid at tak ing the Bachelor’sd egree, on accou n t of poverty, appl ies to Jon athan , n ot to JohnDryden .—MA LONE, vol . i . , p. 17, n ote.


time. The elegy on Lord Hastings, the lines prefixed to Sion and Parnassus,

” and some complimentary stanzas which occur in a lett er to his cousin Honor Driden ,

l would have been enough toassure us, even without his own testimony, thatCowley was the darling of his youth ; and that heimitated his points of wit, and qu irks of epigram,

with a similar contempt for the propriety of theirappli cation. From these poems, we learn enoughto be grateful, that Dryden was born at a laterperiod in his century for had not the road to famebeen altered in consequence of the Restoration, hisext ensive information and acute ingenuity wouldprobably have betrayed the author Of the Ode toSt Cecilia,

” and the father of Engli sh poetical harmony, into rivalling the metaphysical pindarics OfDonne and Cowley. The verses, to which weallude, display their subtlety of thought, their puerile extravagance of conceit, and that structure ofverse,whi ch, as the poet himself says of Holyday’stranslations, has nothing of verse in it except theworst part of it— the rhyme, and that far from being unexceptionable . The following lines, in whi ch

1 [A ccord ing to Mi tford, p. 6, Hon orwas wealthy as wellas beau t ifu l, an d her poet ical cou sin was an u n su ccessfu lsu itor for her han d . She d ied u nmarried after 1 707. The

verses al lu ded to in the text are g iven in Scott's D ryden , vol.

xvi i i . , p . 86, where the Ed i tor cal ls them a wofu l sampl eo f the gallan try of the t ime, al tern ately coarse an d pedan t ic.

”

You . fairest nymph , are waxe. Oh ! may you beA swell In softnesse as in pun tye !T i ll fate, an d your own happy choice revealeWhomyou so farre shall blesse tomake your seale. " 8m]

26 LI FE or JOHN DRYDEN.

the poet describes the death of Lord Hastings bythe small- pox, will be probably admitted as a justificat ion of this censure

Was there n omilder way bu t the smal l -pox,The very fi lthin ess of Pan dora’s boxSoman y spots, l ike n aves on Ven u s’ soi l,One j ewel set off wi th somany a fo i l ;Bl i sters wi th pr ide swell’d, wh ich through

’

s flesh d id

sp rou t,L ike rose- bu ds, stu ck 1 the l ily- sk in abou t.Each l i ttle pimple had a tear in i t,To wai l the fau l t i ts ri sing d id commi t,Wh ich, rebel- l ike,wi th i ts own lord at strife,Thu smade an in su rrect ion ’

gain st h is l ife.Orwere these gems sen t to adorn h is skin,The cabin e t of a r icher sou l wi th inNo comet n eed foretel l h is change drewon ,

Whose corpsemigh t seema con stel lation .

”

This is exactly in the tone of Bishop Corbett’s invective against the same disease

O thou deform’d u nwoman - l ike d i sease,

Thou p lough’

st u p flesh an d blood, an d there sow’st pease

A n d leav’

st su ch pr in ts on beau ty that dost come,A s clou ted shoon do on a floor of loam.

Thou that of faces hon eycombs dostmake,A n d of two breasts two cul lenders, forsakeThy deadly trade ; n ow thou art r ich, give o

’

er,

A n d let ou r cu rses cal l thee forth n omore. ”

A fter leaving the university, our author enteredthe world, supported by friends, from whose character, principles, and situation, it might have beenprophesied, with probability, that his success inlife, and his literary reputation, would have been

Elegy on L ad y Hadd ington, in Corbett’s Poems, p. 121 .

Gilchri st’s ed it ion.

LI FE or JOHN DRYDEN. 27

exactly the reverse of what they actually proved.

Sir'

Gilbert Pickering was cousin- german to thepoet, and also to his mother thus standing relatedto Dryden in a double connexion .

l This gentleman was a stanch puritan, and having set ou t asa reformer, ended by being a regic ide, and anabettor of the tyranny Of Cromwell. He wasone of the judges of the unfortunate Charles andthough he did not sit in that bloody court uponthe last and fatal day, yet he seems to have con

cu rred in the most violent measures of the u nconscien tious men who did so. He had been one of

the parliamentary counsellors of state, and hesitated not to be numbered among the godly anddiscreet persons who assisted Cromwell as a privyr

council. Moreover, he was lord Chamberlain Of

the Protector’s court, and received the honour of

his mock peerage.The patronage of such a person was more likely

to have elevated Dryden to the temporal greatnessand wealth acquired by the sequestrators and committee-men of that oppressive time, than to haveaided him in att aining the summits of Parnassus .For, according to the slight records which Mr

Malone has recovered concerning S ir GilbertPickering’s character, it would seem, that, to thehard, precise, fanat ical contempt of every illumination, save - the inward light, which he derived from

1 S ir John Pickering, father of Sir Gi lbert,marri ed Su san ,the sister of Erasmu s Dryden , the poet ’s father. B u t MaryPickering, the poet’smother,was n i ece to S irJohn Pickeringand thu s her son S ir Gi lbert was her cou sin -german also.


his sect, he added the properties of a fiery temper,

and a rude savage address .l In what capac ityDryden lived with his kinsman, or to what line oflife circumstances seemed to destine the futu repoet, we are left at liberty to conjecture. Shad

In on e lampoon , he is cal led fiery Pickering.

" Walker,in h is Su fferings of th e Clergy, prin ts Jeremi ah S teven ’saccou n t of the Northampton sh ire commi ttee of sequ estration ,i n wh ich the character of Pickering, on e of the members ofthat Oppressive body, i s thu s drawn S ir G Phad an u n cle,whose ears were cropt for a l ibel on A rchbi shopWh itgi ft ;was first a presbyteri an , then an indepen den t, th ena Brown i st, an d afterward s an an abapt ist. He was amos tfur iou s, fiery, implacable man ; was the pr inc ipal agen t incasting ou tmost of the learn ed clergy ; a great Oppressor of th ecou n try ; got a goodman or for h is booty of th e E. of R. an d

a con siderable pu rse of gold by a plu n der at L yn n in Norfolk.

”

H e i s thu s characterised by an angry l imb of the commonweal th, whose repu bl ican spiri t was in cen sed by Cromwellcreating a peerage : S ir Gilbert Pickering, kn igh t of theOld stamp, and of con siderable revenu e in Northampton sh ireon e of the Long Parl i amen t, an d a great

’

st ickler in the changeo f the governmen t fromkingly to that of a commonwealthhelped to make those laws of treason again st k ingsh ip has

a lso changed wi th al l changes that have been since. Hewaso ne of the L i ttle Parl i amen t, an d helped to break i t, as al soo f al l the parl iamen ts sin ce ; i s on e of the Protector’s cou n c il,(h is salary L. 1000p er annum, bes ides other places,) an d as ifhe had been pinn ed to this sl ieve, was n ever to seek ; i s becomehigh steward of Westmin ster ; an d being so fin ical, spru ce,and l ike an old cou rt ier, i smad e L ord Chamberlain of the Prot ector

’

s hou sehold or cou rt ; so that h e maywell be coun tedfi t and worthy to be taken ou t of the Hou se to have a n egativevo ice in th e other hou se, though he h elped to destroy it in thek ing an d lord s . There aremore besides him, thatmake themselves tran sgr essors by bu i ld ing again th e th ings wh ich th eyon ce d estroyed.

”Qu oted byMrMalon e froma rare pamphle t

in h is col lection , en ti tled, A Secon d Narrat ive of the lateParli amen t,


might reasonably hope to attain preferment. In ayouth entering life under the protection of su chrelations, who could have anticipated the futuredramatist and poet laureat, much less the advocateand martyr of prerogative and of the Stuart family,the convert and confessor of the Roman Catholicfaith ? In his after career, his early connexionswith the puritans, and the principles Of his kinsmenduring the c ivil wars and usurpation, were Oftenmade subjects of reproach, to whi ch he never seemsto have deigned an answer .l

reserving on e side aisle of i t for the pu bl ic service of prayers,Hewas n oted forweakn ess an d simpllcity, an d n ever pu t

on any bu sin ess of momen t, bu t was very fu riou s again st thec lergy.

"

In a satire cal led The Protestan t Poets, our au thor isthu s con trasted wi th S ir Roger L ’

Estran ge . In levell ing hisrep roaches, th e sat irist was n ot probably very so l ici tou s abou tgen ealogical accu racy ; as, in the eighth l in e, I con ceive S irJohn Dryden to be al luded to, althou gh he i s termed ou r poet

’sgran dfather, when he was in fact h i s u ncle. S ir Erasmu sDryden was indeed a fan at ic, and so was H en ry Picker ing,D ryden ’s patern al an d matern al gran dfather ; bu t n e itherweremen ofmark or emin en ce

Bu t though he spares nowaste ofwords or conscience,He wants the Tory turn of thorough nonsense,That thoughtless air, thatmakes light Hodge so jollyVoid of allweight, hewan tons in h is folly.Not so forced Bar es, whomsharp remorse attends,Wh i le h is heart loaths the cause h is tongu e defendsHou rly he acts, hou rly repea ts the sin,A nd is all over g ran dfa ther withinBy day that Ill- laid spiri t checks,—o'

nights

O ld Pi ckering‘

s ghost. a dreadfu l spectre, frights.Retu rns of spleen his slacken ed speed remit,A n d cramp his loose careerswith i n tervals ofwtWhi le, wi thou t stop at sense, or ebb of spite,B reaking all bars, bounding o ’

erwrong and right,C ontented Roger gallops ou t of sight."


The death Of Cromwell was the first theme of

our poet’s muse . A verse as the puritans were toany poetry, save that Of Hopkins, of Withers, or

Of W isdom, they may be reasonably supposed tohave had some sympathy with Dryden’s sorrowupon the death of Oliver, even although it venteditself in the profane and unprofitable shape of anelegy. But we have n o means of estimating itsreception with the public, if, in tru th, the public longinterested themselves about the memory of Cromwell,while his relations and dependents presentedt o them the more animated and interesting spectacle of a struggle for his usurped power . R ichard,perhaps, and the immediate friends of the deceasedProtector, with su ch of Dryden’s relations as wereattached to hi smemory, may have thought, like theTinker in the Taming Of the Shrew, that this sameelegy was marvellous good matter,

” but it did notprobably attract much general attention. The firstedition, in 1659, is extremely rare itwas repr inted, however, along with those of Sprat and Wal

ler, in the course Of the same year . A fter the Restorat ion this piece fell into a state Of Obliv ion,from which it may be believed that the author,whohad seen a n ewlight in politics, was by no meanssolicitous to recall it. His political antagonist didnot, however, fail to awaken its memory, whenDryden became a decided advocate for the royalprerogative, and the hereditary right of the Stuart’s . During the controversies of Charles theSecond’s reign, in which Dryden took so decided ashare,his eulogy on Cromwellwas Often objected to


him, as a proof of in consistence and apostasy. Onepassage, which plainly applies to the civil wars ingeneral, was wrested to signify an explicit approbation of the murder of Charles the First ; 1 and thewhole piece was reprinted by an incensed an tago

nist, un der the title of A n Elegy on the UsurperO . C., by the author of A bsalom and A chi tophel,published (it is ironically added) to show theloyalty and integrity of the poet,

”—an Odd piece ofvengeance, whi ch has perhaps never been parall eled, except in the single case of Love in a HollowTrec .

“ The motives of the Duchess of Marlborough, in reprinting Lord Grimestone’s memorable dramatic essay, did not here apply. The elegyon Cromwell, although doubtless sufli cien tly faulty,contained symptoms Of a regenerating taste and,poli tically considered, although a panegyric on anusu rper, the topics of praise are selectedwith attention to truth, and are, generally speaking, such as

1 Ou r former chiefs, l ike sticklers of thewar,F irst sou ght to inflame the parties, then to poise

The qu arrel loved , bu t did the cau se abhor ;A nd d id no t strike to hurt, bu tmake a n oise.War, ou r consumption ,

was their gainfu l trad e ;W e inward bled ,whi lst they prolong 'd our pain ;

He fought to end o ur fighting , and essay'd

To stanch the blood by breathing of the vein.

”

Davnsn’

s Works, vol. ix. , p . 10.-Notes, ab., p. 16,

2 Th is piec e was cal led in , an d destroyed by the n oble author ; bu t Sarah, D uchess of Marlborough, when opposingLord Grimestone at an elect ion ,mal ic iously prin ted and d is

persed a large impress ion of h is smothered performan ce,wi tha fron tispiece represen t ing an eleph an t dan cing on the slackrope — [The repu bli cat ion , by our modern Rad icals, of Mr

Sou they’s j u ven il e piece, Wat Tyler,” had n ot occurredwhenSir Walter Scottwrote h is L ife of Dryden .

LIFE OF JOHN DRYDEN.

‘

33

“Cromwell’s worst enemies could not have denied tohim. Neither had Dryden made the errors, ormisfortunes, of the royal family, and their followers, the subject of censure or of contrast. Withrespect to them, it was hardly possible that a eulogyou such a theme could have less offence in it. Thiswas perhaps a fortunate circumstance for Drydenat the Restoration ; and it must be noticed to hi shonour, that as he spared the exiled monarch in hispanegyric on the usurper, so, after the Restoration,in his numerous wr itings on the side of royalty,there is no instance of his recall ing his formerpraise of Cromwell.A fter the frequent and rapid changes which the

government of England underwent fromthe deathof Cromwell, in the spring of 1660, Charles I I . wasrestored to the throne of his ancestors. It may beeasily imagined, that this event, a subject in itselfhighly fit for poetry, and which promised the revival Of poetical pu rsuits, was hailed with universalacclamation by all whose turn for verse had beensuppressed and stifled during the long reign of fanat icism. The Restoration led the way to the revival of lett ers, as well as that of legal government.With Charles, as Dryden has expressed it,

The ofiiciou s Mu ses came along,A gay, harmon iou s qu ire, like angels ever young.

”

It was not, however, to be expected, that an alteration of the taste whi ch had prevailed in the days ofCharles I.,was to be the immediate consequence ofthe new order of things. The muse awoke, likeVOL . I. c


the sleeping beauty of the fairy tale, in the sameantiquated and absurd vestments in which she hadfallen asleep twenty years before or if the readerwill pardon another simile, the poets were likethose who, after a long mourning, resume for atime their ordinary dresses, of whi ch the fashionhas in the meantime passed away. Other causescontributed to a temporary revival of themetaphysical poetry. Almost all its professors, attached tothe house of Stuart, had been martyrs, or confes

sors at least, in its cause . Cowley, their leader,was yet ali ve, and returned to claim the late rewardof his loyalty and his sufl

‘

erings. Cleveland haddied a victim to the contempt, rather than the persecu t ion of the republicans but this most ardent

1 Hewas on e of the garri son of Newark,wh ich held ou t solong for Charles I. , and has left a cu riou s spec imen of the wito f the t ime, in h i s con troversy wi th a parl iamen tary officer,whose servan t had robbed him, an d taken refuge in Newark.The fol lowing i s the beg inn ing of hi s an swer t o a demandthat the fugi tive should be su rren dered

S ixth ly, Beloved,Is i t so then , that ou r brother an d fellow- labou rer in the

Gospel i s start aside ? then thi s may serve for an u se of in

stru ct ion , n ot to tru st in man , n or in the son of man . Did

n ot Demas leave Paul ? d id n ot On esimu s run fromh ismas.ter Ph ilemon ? besides, th i s shou ld teach u s to employ our

t alen t, an d n ot to lay i t u p in a n apkin . Had i t been don eamon g the caval iers, i t had been j u st ; then the Israe l i te hadspoi led the Egyptian ; bu t for S imeon to plu n der L evi, that !that You see, sir,what u se I make of the doc trin e you sen tme ; an d ind eed sin ce you change style so far as to n ibble atwit,you mu st pardon me, if, to qu i t scores, I preten d a l i ttle tot he gift of preachin g,” 8m. Su ch was the wit of Clevelan d .

After the complete subjugation of the royal ists, hewas appro


Of cavalier poets was succeeded by Wild, whoseIter Boreale,

” a poem on Monk’s march fromScotland, formed upon Cleveland

’s model, obtainedext ensive popular ity among the citizens ofLondon.

1

Dryden’s good sense and natu ral taste perceivedthe obvious defects of these, the very coarsest ofmetaphysical poets ; insomuch, that, in his Essayon Dramatic Poetry,

” he calls wresting and torturing one word into another, a catachresis, or Clevelaudism, and charges W ild with being in poetrywhat the French call an mauva is bufi bn .

Sprat, and a host of inferior imitators, marchedfor a t ime in the footsteps of Cowley ; delightedprobably to discover in pindar ic writing, as it was

h en ded, having in h is possession a bun dl e of poems and satirical songs again st the republ ican s. H e appeared before theCommonwealth gen eral wi th the d igni fied air of one who isprepared to su fi

’

er for h is prin ciples. Hewas di sappoin ted ;for the mi l i tary j u dge, after a con temptu ou s glan ce at th epapers , exclaimed to Cleveland ’s accu sers, Is th is all ye haveagain st him? Go, let the poor kn ave sell hi s ball ad s Su ch

an acqu i ttal was more severe than any pun i shmen t . The

c on sc iou s v irtu e of the loyal i st wou ld have born e the latter ;bu t the pr ide of the poet cou ld n ot su stain h is con temptu ousd i smissal ; an d Clevelan d i s said to have broken h is heart incon sequ en ce. Biograp hic B ritann ica, voce Cleveland.

He i s the very Wi thers of th e c i ty, says D ryden of

Wi ld “they have bou ght more ed i t ion s of h is works thanwou ld serve to lay u nder all their p ies at the lord mayor'sChri stmas. When h is famou s poemfirst came ou t in the year1660, I have seen them read ing i t in the midst of Changet ime ; n ay, so vehemen t they were at it, that they lost theirbargain by the can dles’ en ds : bu t what wil l you say, if hehas been received amongst great person s ? I can assure youh e i s th i s day th e en vy of on e who i s lord in the art of qui bbl ing, and who does not take i t wel l, that any man shouldin tru de so far in to h is provin ce . Works, vol. xv ., p. 298.


called, a species of poetr y which required neithersound nor sense, prov ided only there was a sufficient stock of florid and extravagant thoughts,expressed in harsh and bombastic language .But this style of poetry, although it was for a

time revived, and indeed continued to be occasionally employed even to the end of the eighteenthcentury, had too slight foundation in truth andn atu re to maintain the exclusive pre - eminencewhich it had been exalted to dur ing the reigns of

the two fi rst monar chs of the Stuart race. A s

Rochester profanely expressed it, Cowley’s poetry

was n ot of God, and therefore could n ot stand .

A n approaching change ofpublic taste was hastenedby the man ners of the restored monar ch and hiscourtiers . That pedantry which had di ctated theexcessive admiration of metaphysical conceits, wasn ot the character istic of the court of Charles I I ., asit had been of those of his grandfather and father .L ively and witty by nature, with all the acquiredhabits of an adventurer,whose wanderings,militaryand political, left him time neither for profoundreflection, nor for deep study, the restored monarch

’s literary taste, which was by no means con

t empt ible, was directed towards a lighter and morepleasing style of poetry than the harsh and scholastic productions of Donne and Cowley. Theadmirers, therefore, of this old school were confinedto the ancient cavaliers, and the old courtiers ofCharles I. ; persons unlikely to lead the fashion inthe court of a gay monarch, filled with such menas Buckingham, Rochester, Etherege, Sedley, and


sublime itself borders closely on the ludicrous ;but the bombast and extravagant cannot be dividedfrom it. The tu rn of thought, and the peculiarkind of mental exert ion, correspond in both stylesof wr iting and although Butler pursued the ludi ‘

croms, and Cowley aimed at the surprisin g, theleading features of their poetry only differ likethose of the same face convulsed with laughter, orarrested in astonishment. The district of metaphysical poetry was thu s invaded by the satirists,who sought weapons there to avenge the misfortunes and oppression which they had so latelysustained from the puritans ; and as it i s difiicultin a laughing age to render serious what has beenonce applied to ludicrous purposes, Butler and hisimitators retained quiet possession of the style whi chthey had usurped from the grave bards of the earlier age.A single poet, Sir Will iam Davenant, made a

meritoriou s, though a misguided and unsuccessfuleffort , to rescue poetry from becoming the merehandmaid of pleasure, or the partisan of politi calor personal di sputes, and to restore her to her natural rank in society, as an auxiliary of religion,

poli cy, law, and virtue. His heroic poem of

Gondibert has, no doubt, great imperfections ;but it intimates everywhere a mind above thoselaborious triflers,who called that poetry whi ch wasonly verse ; and very often exhibits a majestic,dignified, and manly simplicity, equally superiorto the metaphysical school, by the doctrines of

which Davenant was occasionally misled. Yet, if


that author too frequently imitated their quaintafi

'

ectation of uncommon sentiment and associations, he had at least the merit of couching themin stately and harmonious verse ; a qual ity of poetrytotally neglected by the followers of Cowley. Imention Davenant here, and separate from theother poets, who were di stinguished abou t the timeof the Restoration, because I think that Dryden,to whomwe are about to return, was, at that period, an admirer and imitator of Gondibert, aswe are certain that he was a personal and intimatefriend of the author .l

With the return of the king, the fall of Dryden’spolitical patrons was necessarily involved . SirGilbert Pickering, havin g been one of Charles’

judges, was too happy to escape into obscurity,under an absolute disqual ification for holding anyoffice, political, civil, or ecclesiastical . The influence of Sir John Dryden was ended at the sametime ; and thus both these relations, un der whoseprotection Dryden entered life, an d by whose influen ce he was probably to have been aided in

[Sir Wal ter Scott has said el sewhere, An Epic Poem,in el egiac stanz as,mu st always be ted iou s, becau se n o struc

tu re of verse is more un favou rable to n arrat ion than thatwhich peremptorily requ ires each sen ten ce to be restricted, orprotracted, to fou r li n es . Bu t the l ivelin ess of D avenan t’simag in at ion , wh ich D ryden has po in ted ou t as his moststriking attr ibu te, has illumin ated even the dull and drearypath wh ich he has chosen ; an d perhaps few poems affordmore in stan ces of vigorou s con cept ion s, an d even fel ici ty ofexpress ion , than the n eg lected Gondibert.’ —Note to TheTempest,” vol. ii i. , p. 97.


some path to'

wealth or eminence, became at once“

incapable of’

assisting him; and even connexion‘

with them was rendered, by the change of times,di sgraceful, if not dangerous . Yet it may bedoubted whether Dryden felt this e v il in its fullextent. Sterne has said of a character, that ablessing which closed his mouth, or a mis rtu n e

whi ch opened it with a good grace, were nearlyequal to him nay, that sometimes the misfortunewas the more acceptable of the two . It is possible,by a parity of reasoning, that Dryden may havefelt himself rather relieved from, than deprived of,

his fanatical patrons, under whose guidance hecould never hope to have indulged in that careerof literary pursuit, which the n ewo rder of thingspresented to the ambition of the you thful poet atleast, he lost no time in useless lamentation, but,now in hi s thirtieth year, proceeded to exert thatpoetical talent, which had heretofore been repressed by his own situation, and that of the cou ntry.

Dryden, left to his own exertions, hastened totestify his joyful acquiescence in the restoration ofmonarchy, by publi shing A strcea Redux,

” a poemwhich was probably distinguished among the innumerable congratulations pou red forth upon theoccasion ; and he added to those which hailed thecoronation, in 1661, the verses entitled A Panegyric to hi s Sacred Majesty.

” These pieces testify,that the author had already made some progress inharmonizing his versification . But they also containmany of those points of wit, and turns of epigram,

LIFE or JOHN DRYDEN. 41

which he condemned in his more advanced judgment . 1 The same description applies, in a yetstronger degree, to the v erses addressed to LordChancellor Hyde (Lord Clarendon) on the NewYear’s - Day of 1662, in which Dryden has moreclosely imitated the metaphysical poetry than in anypoem, except the juvenile elegy on Lord Hastings .Icannot bu t think, that the poet consulted the tasteof his patron, rather than his own , in adopting thispeculiar style . Clarendon was educated in the

1 [In h is n ote (D ryden , vol . ix . , p. 41 ) on the l in esA n horrid sti llness first invades the ear,

A nd in that silencewe the tempest fear,”'

S ir Walter Scott says The smal l wi ts of the t ime madethemselves very merry wi th the cou plet ; becau se st illn ess,be ing amere absen ce of sou n d, cou ld n ot, i t was said. be person ified , as an act ive agen t, or invader. Captain Ratcl iffethu s states the obj ect ion in his News fromHel l

Lau reat, who was both learn ’d and florid ,Was dama’

d long si nce, for sz len ce /107 r zaNorhad there been su ch clattermade,Bu t that th is silence d ld "wade.

Invade ! an d so'

tmightwell, ’t i s clear ;

Bu twhat d id i t mvade —An earIn th e D ialogu e in Bed lam,

’ between Ol iver’s porter,fidd ler, an d poet, the first of these person s thu s addressesL

‘Estran ge an d D ryden , the scen e being adorn ed W i thseveral of the poet's own flowers

O glory, glory ! who are these appear ?My fellows ervan ts, poet, fiddler hereOld Hodge the constan t, Johny the sincere !Who sen t you h i ther and , pray tellme,whyA horrid si lence does invademy eye,Whi le not on e soun d of vo ice fromyou Ispy.

B u t , as Dr John son ju stly remarks,we hesitate n ot to say,the world i s in vaded by darkn ess, wh ich i s a privation of

l igh t, an d Why n ot by silen ce,which is a. pr ivat ion of sou nd ” I


court of Charle s I., and Dryden may have thoug htit necessary, in addressing him, to imitate thestrong verses,

” which were then admired .

A ccording to the fashion of the times, such copiesof occasional verses were rewarded by a gratu ityfrom the

‘

person to whom they were addressed ;and poets had n ot yet learned to think thi s mode ofreceiving assistance incompatible with the feelin gsof dignity or deli cacy. Indeed, in the commontransactions of that age, one sees something resembling the Eastern custom Of accompanying with apresent, and not always a splendid on e, the usualforms of intercourse and civility. Thus we find thewealthy corporation of Hull, backing a polite ad

dress to the Duke of Monmouth, their governor,with a present of six broad p ieces and his gracedeemed it a po int of civility to press the acceptanceof the same gratuity u pon the member of parliament for the city, bywhom itwas delivered to him .

l

We may therefore believe, that Dryden received

1 The Duke of Monmou th retu rn ed on Satu rday fromNew-Market. To- day I wai ted on him, and first presen tedhimwi th you r letter,wh ich he read all over very at ten t ively ;and then prayedme to assure you , that hewou ld, u pon all oc

casion s, bemost ready to give you themarks of h is afi'

ec ti en,

and assist you in any affairs you shou ld recommen d to him. I

then del ivered to himthe six broad p ieces, tel l ing him, that Iwas depu ted to blu sh on you r behalf for themean n ess of thepresen t, 8m. bu t he tookme ofi’, an d said he thanked you fori t, an d accepted i t as a token of your kindn ess . He had , be

fore I came in, as Iwas told. con sidered wha t to dowi th th egold ; an d bu t that I by all mean s preven ted the offer, or Ihad been en dang ered of being reimbursedwi th it. ”—ANnaEwMaam n

’

s Works, vol. i. , p. 210. L etter to the Mayor of Hull.


some compliment from the king and chancellor ;and I am afraid the same premises au thoriz e us toconclude that it was bu t trifling. Meantime, ourauthor having no settled means of support, excepthis small landed property, and having nowno assistance to expect from his more wealthy kinsmen, towhom, probably, neither his literary pursuits, norhis commencing them by a panegyr ic on the Restoration, were very agreeable, and whom he had alsoofl

'

ended by a slight change in spelling hi s name,1

seems to have been reduced to narrow and u n comfortable circumstances. Without believing, in itsfull extent, the exaggerated account given byBrown and Shadwell, 2 we may discover from theirreproaches, that, at the commencement of his literary career, Dryden was connected, and probablylodged,with Herringman the bookseller, in theNewExchange, for whom he wrote preface s, and otheroccasional pieces . But having, as Mr Malone hasobserved, a patr imony, though a. small one, of hi s

1 FromB r iden to Dryden .

9 Shadwel lmakes Dryd en say, that after some years spen tat th e u n i versi ty, he came to L on don . A t first I stru ggledwi th a great deal of persecu t ion , took u pwi th a lodgingwh ichhad a win down o bigger than a pocket- looking glass, d in ed ata three- penn y ordin ary enough to starve a vacation tailor,kept l i ttle compan y,wen t c lad i n homely d rugget, an d dru n kwin e as seldomas a rechabite, or th e grand seign ior

’s con fessor. The old gen tleman ,who correspon ded wi th the Gen

tleman ’

s Magaz in e,” and remembered D ryden before the r i seof his fortu n es,men t ion s h i s su i t of plain drugget , bein g, bythe by, the same garb in wh ich he h imself has clothed Flecnoe,who coarsely clad '

In Norwich drugget came.”


own , it seems impossible that our author was everin that state of mean and abject dependence

,whichthe mali ce of his enemies afterwards pretended.

The same malice misrepresented, or greatly exaggerated, the nature Of Dryden

’s obligations to SirRobert Howard, withwhom he became acquaintedprobably about the time of the Restoration, whoseinfluence was exerted in his favour, and whosegood offices the poet returned by literary assistance .Sir Robert Howard was a younger son of Tho

mas Earl of Berkeley, and, like all his family, haddistinguished himself as a royalist, particularly atthe battle of Cropley Bridge . He had recentlysufi

'

ered a long imprisonment in W indsor Castledur ing the usu rpation. H is rank and merits madehim, after the Restoration, a patron of some couse

qu ence ; and upon hi s publishing a collection of

verses very soon after that period, Dryden prefixedan address to his honoured friend, on his excellent poems.” Sir Robert Howard understood thevalue of Dryden’s attachment, introdu ced him intohis family, and probably aided in procur ing hi sproductions that degree of attention from the higherworld, for want of which the most valuable effortsof genius have Oft en sunk into unmerited obscurity.

Such, in short, were his exertions in favour of

Dryden, that, though we cannot believe he wasindebted to Howard for those necessaries of lifewhi ch he had the means to procure for himself,the poet found grou nd to acknowledge, that hispatron had not only been careful of his fortune,


hard style of invective which Cleveland applied tothe Scottish nation ; yet Dryden thought it worthwhile to weave the same verses into the prologueand epilogue of the tragedy of Amboyna,

” apiece wr itten in 1673, with the same kind intentionstowards the States- General .Science, as well as poetry, began to revive after

the iron dominion of military fanaticismwas endedand Dryden, who through life was attached toexperimental philosophy, speedily associated himself with those who took interest ia its progress .He was chosen a member of the newly instit utedRoyal Society, 26th November, 1662 an honourwhi ch cemented his connexionwith the most learnedmen of the time, and is an evidence of the respectin which hewas already held. Most of these, andthe di scoveries by which they had distingu ishedthemselves, Dryden took occasion to celebrate inhis Epistle to Dr Walter Charleton,” a learnedphysician, upon hi s treatise of Stonehenge .l Gil

bert , Boyle, Harvey, and Ent, are mentioned withenthusiastic applause, as treading in the path

1 Among the assertors of free reason ’s c laim,

O ur nati on ’s n ot the least in worth or fame .The world to Bac on does n ot only oweIts presen t knowledge, bu t i ts fu tu re too.

G ilbert shall l ive , t i ll loadstones cease to draw,Or British fleets the bo und less ocean awe.

A nd n oble Boyle, n o t less in n ature seen ,Than his great brother, read in states andmen .

T he circl i ng streams . o nce tho u ght bu t poo ls of blood,(Whether Ii fe’s fuel, or the body’s food,)Fromdark oblivion Harvey‘s name shall save ;While Ent keeps all the honou r that he gave.”

Works, vol. XL, p. LS


pointed ou t by Bacon, who first broke the fettersof A ristotle, and taught the world to derive knowledge from experiment. In these elegant verses,the author divests himself of all the flippan t extravagance of point and quibble, in whi ch, complyingwith his age, he had hitherto indulged, though oflate in a limited degree .

l

While thus united in friendly communion withmen of kindred an d congenial spirits, Drydenseems to have been sensible of the necessity ofapplying his literary talents to some line, in whi chhe might derive a steadier and more certain re

compense, than by writing occasional verses tothe great, or doing literary drudgery for the bookseller . H is own genius would probably havedirected him to the ambitiou s labours of an epicpoem ; but for this the age afforded little enconragemen t. Gondihert,

” the style ofwhich Dryden certainly both admired and copied, became amartyr to the raillery of the critics ; 2 and to fill up

A t an age, when L u cian an d Tasso had ru n ou t theirco u rse, an d Mil ton had g iven themost preciou s samples of hi sgen iu s, D ryden had achi eved n oth ing that could rai se himmu ch above ord inarymen . The fi rst of his poems which posse sses any con sid erablemeri t, is the epistle to Dr Charleton .

”

—HA LLAM, Edin . Rev.

9 Hobbes, in a letter to the Hon . Edward Howard, says,My ju dgmen t in poetry hath, you know, been on ce already

c en su red , by very good W i ts, for commen d ing Gormxcz ar ;bu t yet they have n o t , I th ink , d i sabled my test imon y. Forwhat au thori ty i s there in wit ? A j estermay have i t ; amani n drink may have i t, an d be flu en t over n ight, and W i se an dd ry in themorni ng. What i s i t ? orwho can tell whether it


the measu re of shame, the Paradise Lost ” fellstill -bomfromthe press . This last instance of badtaste had n ot , it i s tru e , yet taken place ; bu t themen who were guilty of it were then living underDryden’s observat ion, and their manners and habits could not fail to teach him, to anticipate thelittle encouragement they were likely to afford to

the loft ier labour s of poetry. One on ly lineremained, in which poetical talents might exertthemselves, with some chance of procuring theirpossessor’s reward, or at least maintenance, andthis was dramatic composition. To this Drydensedulously applied himself, with various success,for many years . Bu t before proceeding to tracethe history of his dramatic career, I proceed to

notice su ch pieces of his poetry, as exhibit marksof hi s earlier style of composition.

The victory gained by the Duke of York overthe Dutch fleet on the 3d of June, 1665, and hisDu chess’s subsequent journey into the north, furn ished Drydenwith the subject of a fewoccasionalverses, in whi ch the style of Waller (who cameforth with a poem on the same subject) is successfully imitated . In addressing her grace, the poetsuppresses all the horrors of the battle, and turn sher eyes upon the splendour of a victory, forwhi chthe kingdomwas indebted to her husband’s valour,

be better to have i t, or to be wi thou t i t, especi ally if i t be apoin ted wit ? I wi l l take my l iberty to praisewhat I l ike, aswell as they do to reprehen d what they do n ot like.’ - D

’Is

mu m’s Quarrels of A uthors, vol. i i., p . 242 ]


and her chaste vows .”l In these verses, not theleast vestige of metaphysical wit can be trac edand they were accordingly censured, as wantingheight of fancy, and dignity of words . This criticismDryden refu ted, by alleging, that he had succeeded in what he did att empt, in the softness ofexpression and smoothness of the measu re, (theappropriate ornaments of an address to a lady,) andthat he was accused of that only thing which hecould well defend. It seems, however, very poss ible that these remarks impelled himto u ndertakea task, in which vigour of fancy and expressionmight, with propriety, be exercised. A ccordingly

,

his next poem was of greater length and importance . This i s an historical account of the eventsof the year 1666, under the title of “A nnu sMira

to which distinction the incidents which hadoccurred in that space gave it some title . Thepoem being in the elegiac stanza, Dryden relapsedinto an imitation of Gondibert,

” from which he1 Thewindswere hu sh ’d, thewaves in rankswere cast,A s awfu lly aswhen God 's people pastThese, yet un certa in on whose sa ils to blow,

These, where thewealth of nati ons ought to flowThen with the duke your Highness ru led the dayWhi le all the brave d id his command obey,The fai r and piou s u nder you d id pray.Howpowerfu l are ( haste vows ! thewmd and tideYou bribed to combat on the Engli sh side .Thu s to yourmuch-loved lord you d id conveyAn u nknown su ccou r, sen t the nearest way.

Newvrgou r to hiswean ed arms you brought,(So Moseswas upheld whi le Israel fought, )While, fromafar, we heard the cannon play,Like di stant thun der on a shi ny dayForabsen t friendswewere ashamed to fear,Whenwe consi der’dwhat you ven tured there."

Works, vol ix.,p.

VOL . I.


‘

had departed ever since the Elegy on Cromwell.”

From thi s it appears, that the author’s admiration

of Davenant had not decreased . Indeed he, longafterwards, bore test imony to that author

’s qu ickand piercing imagination which at once produ cedthoughts remote, n ew, and surprising, su ch as couldnot eas ily enter into any other fancy.

l Drydenat least equalled Davenant in this quality ; andcertainly excelled him in the powers of composition, which are to embody the conceptions of theimagination and in the extent of acquired knowledge, by which they were to be enforced andillustrated. In his preface, he has vindi cated thechoice of his stanza, by a reference to the opinionof Davenant,

$2 which he sanctions by afiirming,

In the t ime I wr i t wi th him, I had the opportu n i ty toobserve so'mewhat more n early of him than I had formerlydon e, when I had on ly a bare acqu ain tan ce wi th him. Ifou n d himthen of so qu ick a fan cy, tha t n oth ingwas proposedt o him, on which he could n ot su dden ly produ ce a thou gh textremely p leasan t an d su rpri sing ; and those firs t thoughtsof h is, con trary to the old L atin proverb,were n ot always theleas t happy. A n d as h is fan cy was qu ick, so likewi se werethe prod uct s of i t remote an d n ew. He borrowed n ot of an yother ; an d his imag in at ion s were su ch as cou ld n ot easilyen ter in to any other man . His correct ions were sober an d

j u d ic iou s ; an d b e corrected h is own wri t ings mu ch moreseverely than those of an otherman , bestowing twice the timean d labour in pol i sh ing, wh ich he u sed in inven t ion ,

”Soc.

.Dryden’s Works, vol . i i i . , p.

3 Daven an t al leges the advan tages of a respi te and pau sebetween every stan z a, which shoul d be so con stru ct ed as tocomprehen d a per iod ; an d adds, n or doth altern ate rh ime,by any lowl in ess of caden ce,make the soun d less hero ic, bu trather adapt i t to a plain and stately compos in g of mu sic ;and the brevi ty of the stan z a ren ders it les s subtle to the com


that he had always, himself, thought quatrains, orstanzas of verse in alternate rhyme, more noble,and of greater dignity, both for sound and number,than any other verse in use among u s.

l By thisattention to sound and rhythm, be improved uponthe school of metaphysical poets, which disclaimedattention to either ; bu t in the thought and expression itself, the style of Davenant more nearlyresembled Cowley’s than that of Denham andWaller. The same ardour for what Dryden callswit-writing,

” the same unceasing exercise of thememory, in search of wonderful thoughts and

allusions, and the same contempt for the subject,except as the medium of displaying the au thor’slearning and ingenuity, marks the style of Davenant, though in a less degree than that of the metaphysical poets, and though chequered with manyexamples of a simpler and chaster character. Somepart of this deviation was, perhaps, owing to thenature of the stanza ; for the structure of thequ atrain prohibited the hard, who used it, fromrambling into those digressive similes, which, inthe pindaric strophe, might be pursued throughendless ramifications . If the former started an

extravagant thought, or a quaint image, he wascompelled to bring it to a point within his fourlined stanza. The snake was thus scotched, thoughnot killed ; and conciseness being rendered indis

poser, an dmore easy to the singer, wh ich , in stilo recitativo,when the story is long, i s chiefly requ i si te.”—Prd

'

ace to Gon

Dryden ’s Works, vol . ix. , p._95.


pensable, a great step was gained towards coneentration of thought, whi ch is necessary to the simpleand to the sublime. The manner of Davenant,therefore, though short- lived, and ungraced bypublic applause, was an advance towards true taste,from the unnatural and frantic indulgence of u n

restrained fancy ; and, did it claim n o other merit,it possesses that of having been twice sanctionedby the practice of Dryden, upon occasions of umcommon solemnity.

The “A nnus Mirabilis” evinces a considerableportion of labour and attention the lines and versificat ion are highly polished, and the expressionwas probably carefully corrected . Dryden, asJohnson remarks, already exercised the superiorityof his genius, by recommending his own performance, as wr itten upon the plan of Virgil ; and asno unsuccessful effort at producing those wellwrought images and descriptions, whi ch createadmiration, the proper obj ect of hero ic poetry.

The “Amws Mirabilis” may indeed be regardedas one of Dryden

’s most elaborate pieces ; althoughit is not written in his later, better, and most peenliar style of poetry.

1

The poem first appeared in oct avo, in 1 667, andwas afterwards frequently reprinted in quarto . It

1 {In commen ting on this opin ion as to the “A nnusMirabilz’

s,

Mr Hallamsays Variet y is i ts chief wan t, as d ign i ty i s itsgreates t excellen ce ; bu t in spi te of this d efect, an d of mu chbad taste,we dou bt whether so con tin u ed a strain of poetrycoul d at that t ime be foun d in the langu age . Waller’s Pan egeric,

’ at least, and D en ham’s Cooper’s Hill,’ themos t celebrated poems of the age, are very inferior to i t.”—Ed. Review]


approaches more nearly to modern verse, than thato f Hall or Donne . In the Elegy on Cromwell,

”

and the A nnus Mz’

rabilis, Dryden followed Dav enant, who abridged, if he did not explode, thequ aintnesses of his predecessors . In A strwa Re

d ux,” and his occasional verses, to Dr Charleton,

the Duchess of York, and others, the poet proposed a separate and simpler model, more dign ifiedthan that of Suckling or Waller ; more harmoniou sin measure, and chaste in expression , than those ofCowley and Crashaw. Mu ch, there doubtlessremained, of ancient subtlety, and ingeniou s qu ibbling ; bu t when Dryden declares, that he proposesVirgil, in preference to Ovid, to be his model inthe A nnus Mirabilis, it sufficiently implies, thatthe main defect of the poetry of the last age hadbeen discovered, and was in the way of beingamended by gradual, and almost imperceptible,degrees .In establishing, or refining, the latter style of

writing, in couplet verse, our au thor found greatassistance from his dramatic practice to trace thecommencement of whi ch, is the purpose of the nextS ection.


SECT ION I I.

Revival of the D rama at the Restoration—Heroic PlaysComedies of Intrigue Commencement of D ryden

’

s D ra

matic C'

areer The Wild Gallant—Rival L adies

Indian Queen and Enip eror—D iyden

'

s Jllarriage

Essay on D ramatic Poetry , and subsequent s troversywi th S ir Robert Howard The Maiden Queen The

Temp est—S ir Martin Mar- alL The Moe/c Astrologer—The Royal Martyr The Two Parts of the Con

quest of Granada—D ryden’

s S ituation at thzs Period .

IT would appear that Dryden , at the period ofthe Restoration, renounced all views of making hisway in life except by exertion of the literary talentswith whi ch he was so eminently endowed . H isbecoming a writer Of plays was a necessary cou sequance ; for the theatres, newly opened after so

long silence, were resorted to with all the ardourinspired by novelty ; and dramatic compositionwas the only line which promised s omething likean adequate reward to the professors of li terature.In our sketch of the taste of the seventeenthcentury previous to the Restoration, this topicwas intentionally postponed.

In the times of James I . and of his successor,the theat re retained, in some degree, the Splendourwith whi ch the excellent writers of the virgin reign

LIFE OF JOHN DRYDEN.

had adorn ed it. It is true, that au thors of thelatter period fell far below those gi gantic poets,who flourished in the end of the sixteenth andbeginning of the seventeenth centur ies ; but whatthe stage had lost in dramatic composition, was,in some degree, supplied by the increasing splendour Of decoration, and the favour of the court.A private theatre, Called the Cockpit, was maintained atWhitehall, in which plays were performedbefore the court ; and the king

’s company of actorsOften received command to attend the royal pro

gresses.

l Masques, a spec ies of representationcalculated exclu sively for the recreation of thegreat, in whose halls they were exhibited, werea usual entertainment of Charles and hi s consort.The machinery and decorations were often superintended by Inigo Jones, and the poetry composedby Ben Jonson the laureat. EvenMilton deignedto contribute one of his most fascinating poems tothe service of the drama ; and, notwithstandingthe severity of his puritanic tenets, Comus” couldonly have been composed by one who felt the fullenchantment of the theatre. Bu t all thi s splendourvanished at the approach of civil war. The stageand court were ahnost as closely united in theirfate as royalty and episcopacy,had the same enemies,the same defenders, and shared the same over

ruin. No throne n o theatre,” seemed

as just a dogma as the famou s N0 king no bishop .

”

The puritans indeed commencedtheir attack against

1 Malon e’s Hi story of the Stage.


royalty in this very quart er ; and, while they impugn ed the political exert ions of prerogative, theyassailed the private character of the monarch andhis consort, for the encouragement given to theprofane stage, that rock of offence, and stumblingblock to the godly. A ccordingly, the superiorityof the republicans was no sooner decisive, thanthe theatres were closed, and the dramatic poetssilenced. No depar tment of poetry was accountedlawful ; but the drama being altogether unhallowedand abominable, its professors were persecuted,while others escaped with censure from the pulpit,and contempt from the rulers . The miserable shiftsto which the surviving actors were reduced duringthe commonwealth, have been often detailed. A t

times theywere connived at by the caprice or indolence of their persecutors but, in general, as soonas they had acquired any slender stock of properties,they were beaten, imprisoned, and stripped, at thepleasure of the soldi ery.

The Resto ration naturally brought with it arev ived taste for those elegant amusements, which,dur ing the usurpation, had been condemned asheathenish, or pu nished as appertaining especiallyto the favou rers Of royalty. To frequent them,

therefore, became a badge of loyalty, and a virtualdisavowal of those pu ritanic tenets which all n owagree in condemning. The taste of the restoredmonarch also was decidedly in favour of the drama.A t the foreign courts, whi ch it had been his lot tovisit, the theatre was the chief entertainment ; andas amusement was always his principal pursuit, it


cannot be doubted that he often sought it there.

The interest, therefore, which the monarch tookin the resto ration of the stage, was direct and

personal. Had it not been for this circumstance,it seems probable that the general audience, for at ime at least, would have demanded a revival of

those pieces which had been most successfu l beforethe civ il wars ; and that Shakspeare, Massinger,and Fletcher, would have resumed their ackn owledged superiority upon the English stage . Butas the theatres were re - established and cherishedby the immediate influence of the sovereign, and of

the court which returned with him from exile, ataste formed du ring their residence abroad dictatedthe natu re of entertainments which were to bepresented to them . It is worthy of remark. thatCharles took the models of the two grand departments of the drama from two different countr ies.France afforded the pattern of those tragedies

which continued in fashion for twenty year s afterthe Restoration, and which were called Rhymingor Heroic Plays . In that country, however, cont rary to the general manners of the people, a sortof stately and precise ceremonial early took possession of the theatre. The French dramatist wasunder the n ecessity of considering less the situationof the persons of the drama, than that of the performers,who were to represent it before amonarchan d his court. It was n ot, therefore, suffi cient forthe author to consider how human beings wouldnaturally express themselves in the predicament ofthe scene he had the more embarrassing task of se

. L IFE OF JOHN DRYDEN. 59

modifying their expressions of passion and feeling,that they might not exceed the decorum necessaryin the august presence of the Grand Monarqu e.

A more effectual mode of freezing the dialogue Ofthe drama could hardly have been dev ised, than byintroducing into the theatre the etiquette of thedrawingroom . That etiquette also, during thereign of Louis X IV., was of a kind peculiarly forced and unnatural . The romances of Calprenedeand Scuderi, those ponderous and unmercifu l foliosn owconsigned to utter oblivion, were in that reignn ot only universally read and admired, but supposed to fu rnish the most perfect models of gallantry and heroism ; al though, in the words of an ele

gant female author, these celebrated writings arejustly described as containing only unnatural representations Of the passions, false sentiments, falseprecepts, false wit, false honour, and false modesty,with a strange heap of improbable, unnatural incidents, mixed up with true history, and fastenedupon some of the great names of antiquity.

”1 Yetu pon the model of such works were framed thecourt manners of the reign of Louis, and, in imitation of them, the French tragedy, in which everyking was by prescript ive right a hero, every femalea goddess, every tyrant a fire- breathing chimera,and every soldier an irresistible Amadis ; in which,

Haud in erpertama ilar. I have,” sh e con t in u es, “(an dyet 1 am stil l al ive,) dru dged throu gh L e Gran d Cyru s, intwelve hu ge volumes ; Cleopatra, in eigh t or ten Polexan der,Ibraham, Clel ie, an d some others, W hose n ames, as wel l as al lthe rest of them, I have forgotten .

”—L etter qf Mrs Chapone

toMrs Carter .


when perfected, we fin d lofty sentiments, splendidimagery, eloquent expression, ssound morality, everything bu t the language of human passion and humanchar acter. In the hands of Corneille, and stillmore in those of Racine, much of the absurdity of

the original model was cleared away, and much thatwas valuable substituted in its stead bu t the planbeing fundamentally wrong, the high talents of

those authors unfort unately only tended to reconcile their countrymen to a style of writing, whichmust otherwise have fallen into contempt. Suchas it was, it rose into high favour at the court ofLouis X IV., and was by Charles introduced uponthe English stage . The favour whi ch hero icplays have lately found upon our theatres, saysour author himself, has been wholly derived tothem from the coun tenance and approbation theyhave received at court.”1

The French comedy, although Moliere was inthe zenith of his reputation, appears n ot to havepossessed equal charms for the Engli sh monarch.

The same restraint of decorum, whi ch prevent edthe expression of natural passion in tragedy, probibited all indelicate license in comedy. Charles,probably,was secretly pleased with a system, whichcramped the effusions of a trag ic muse, and forbade,as indecorous, those bursts of rapturous en thu

siasm, whi ch might sometimes contai n matter u npleasing to a royal ear .

’z But the merry monarch

D ed ication to th e In di an Emperor,” vol . p . 259.

In th i s part icular, awatchwas kept over th e stage. The

Maid’s Tragedy,”wh ich tu rn s upon the sedu ct ion ofEvadn e


the amusements of the dramawould have appearedinsipid, u nless seasoned with the libertine spiritwhich governed their lives, and which was enconraged by the example Of the monarch . Thus it isacutely argued by Dennis, in reply to Collier, thatthe deprav ity of the theatre, when revived, wasowing to that very suppression, whi ch had prevented its gradual reformation. A nd just so amu ddy stream, if allowed its free course, will gradually purify itself ; bu t, if dammed up for a season , and let loose at once, its first torrent cannotfail to be impregnated with every impurity. Thelicense of a rude age was thus revived by a cor

rupted on e ; and even those plays which weretranslated from the French and Spanish, were carefully seasoned with as much indelicacy, and doubleentendre, as was necessary to fit them for the earof the wittiest and most profligate of monarchs .‘

A nother remarkable feature in the comedieswhich succeeded the Restoration, is the structu reof their plot, which was not, like that of the tra

gedies, formed upon the Parisian model. TheEngli sh au dience had not patience for the regular

1 Thewits of Charles found easierways to fame,Nor Wi sh ‘

d for Jonson ‘

s art , or Shakspeare’s flame.

Themselves they stud ied, as they felt theywri t ;Intrigu ewa s p lot , obs. e r-Itywaswi tV ice always fo und a sympatheti c friend ,They pleas ‘

d the i r age, and d id not aimtomend .

Yet bards like these aspir‘

d to lasti ng praise,A nd prou dly hoped to pmp In fu tu re days.Their causewas gen ’

ral, thei r supportswere strong,Thei r slaveswere Wi lling. and thei r reign was long ;T i ll Shame regain ’d the post that Sense betray'd

,

AndVirtu e call'd Obhvion to her and.

"

JOHNSONJ

LI FE OF JOHN DRYDEN.- 63

comedy of their neighbours, depending upon delicate turns of expression, and nicer delineation of

character. The Spanish comedy, with its bustle,machinery, disguise, and complicated intrigue, wasmu ch more agreeable to their taste. This preference did not arise entirely from what the Frenchterm the phlegm Of our national character, whi chcannot be afi

'

ected but by powerful stimulants . Itis indeed certain, that an Englishman expects hiseye, as well as his ear , to be diverted by theatricalexhibition ; but the thirst of novelty was anotherand separate reason, which afl

'

ected the style ofthe revived drama. The number of new playsrepresented every season was incredible and theauthors were compelled to have recourse to thatmode of composition which was most easily exeouted . Laboured accuracy of expression, and finetraits Of character, jo ined to an arrangement Of

action, whi ch should be at once pleasing, interesting, and probable, requires sedulous study, deepreflection, and long and repeated correction andrev ision . But these were n ot to be expected froma playwright, by whom three dramas were to beproduced in one season ; and in their place weresubstituted adventures, surprises, rencounters, mistakes, di sgui ses, and escapes, all easily accomplishedby the intervention of sliding panels, closets, veils,masques, large cloaks, and dark lanterns . If thedramatist was at a loss for employing these conven ien t implements, the fifteen hundred plays ofLope de Vega were at hand for his instru ction ;presenting that rapid succession of events, and


those sudden changes in the situation of the personages, which, acco rding to the noble biographerof the Spanish dramatist , are the charms by whichhe interests us so forcibly in his plots l TheseSpanish plays had already been resorted to by theauthors of the earlier part of the century. Butun der the auspices of Charles I I.,who must Oftenhave witnessed the or igi nals while abroad,

'and insome instances by his express command, translationswere executed of the best and most lively Spanishcomedi es .2

The favourite comedies, therefore, after theRestoration, were such as depended rather uponthe intricacy, than the probability, of the plot ;rather upon the vi vacity and liveliness, than on

the natural expression of the dialogue ; and, finally,rather upon extravagant and grotesque conceptionof character, than upon its being pointedly delineated, and accurately supported through therepresentation. These particulars, in whi ch thecomedies Of Charles the Second’s reign differ fromthe example set by Shakspeare, Massinger, andBeaumont and Fletcher, seem to have been de rivedfrom the Spanish model. Bu t the taste of the agewas too cultivated to follow the stage Of Madr id,

L ord Hol land ’s L ife of L ope de Vega,” p . 128.

The Wi ld Gal lan t,” wh ich Charles comman ded to beperformed before himmore than on ce, was of the class ofSpan i sh comed ies . The Maiden Qu een ,”wh ich the W i ttymon arch honou red wi th the t i tle of his p lay, i s in th e samed iv ision . Sir Samu el Tuke’s A dven tu res of Fi ve Hou rs,”an d Crown e’s Sir Cour tley Nice,” were both tran slatedfromthe Span ish by the king

’s express recommendation.


in introducing, or, to speak more accurately, inrev iving, the character Of the gracioso, or clown,u pon that Of London .

1 Some thing of foreignmanners may be traced in the license assumed byvalets, and domestics, in the English comedy ; afreedom which at n o time made a part of our

national manners, though something like it maystill be traced upon the continent. These seem to

The gracioso, or bu ffoon , accord ing to Lord Hol lan d, heldan in termed iate character between a spectator an d a characterin the play ; in terru pting wi th h is remarks, at on e t ime, th eperforman ce, of wh ich he forms an essen ti al, bu t very defect ive part in an other. His partwas, I presume, partlywr i tten ,partly extempore . Someth ing of the k in dwas certain ly knownu pon our stage . Wi lson an d Tarleton , in their capaci ty ofc lown s, en tered freely in to a con test ofwit wi th the spectators,wh ich was n ot at al l held incon si sten t wi th their having ashare in th e performance. Nor was tragedy exempted fromthe ir in terferen ce. Hal l, after tel l ing u s

-

of a trag ic represent at ion , in forms u s,

Nowleast su ch frightfu l showes of fortunes fall,And blondy tyrants‘ rage, shou ld chance appallThe dead-stru ck au d ience, ’midst the Si len t rou tComes leaping in a safe-mi sformed lou t ,A nd laughes, and gri ns, and frames h ismimick face,A nd ju stles straight in to the prin ce's place :Then doth the theatre echo all alou dW i th gladsome noyse of that applau d ing croud .

A goodly hoch-poch, when Vi le ru ssetingsA rematcht Wi thmonarchs and withmighty kings.

Th is extemporal comi c part seems to have been held essen tialt o dramatic represen tat ion , inmost cou n tr ies in Eu rope, duringthe in fan cy of the ar t. A person ification of the same kin d i sstil l retain ed in the lower k in ds of popu lar exh ibi t ion s ; andthe clown s to the shows of tumbl ing an d horseman sh ip,wi thmymu ch- respected fri en d Mr Pu n ch in a pu ppet - show, beara pretty close resemblan ce to th e gracioso of the Span iards,the arlequ in o of the I tal i an s, an d the clown of the ancien tEngl i sh drama—See Ma LONE

’s H istory qf tlie Stage.

VOL . I. E

66 L IFE OF JOHN DRYDEN.;

be the leading characteristics of the comedies ofCharles the Second’s reign ; in which the rules ofthe ancients were totally disregarded. It were tobe wished that the authors could have been excu l

pated from a heavier charge,— that of assisting tocorrupt the nation, by nou r ishing and fomentingtheir evil passions, as well as by indulging andpandering to their vices .The theatres, after the Restoration, were limited

to two in number a restriction perhaps necessary,as the exclusive patent expresses it, in regard Of

the extraordinary li centiousness then used in dramatic representation ; but for which no very goodreason can be shown, when they are at least harmless, if not laudable places Of amusemen t. One ofthese privileged theatres was placed under thedirection of Sir.Will iamDavenant, whose sufferings in the royal cause merited a provision, andwhose taste and talents had been directed towardsthe drama even during its proscription. He is saidto have introduced movable scenes upon the English stage ; and, without entering into the disputeof how closely this is to be interpreted, we are certain that he added much to its splendour and decoration . His set Of performers, which contained thefamous Betterton, and others of great merit, wascalled the Duke’s Company. The other licensedtheatre was placed under the direction Of ThomasK ill igrew, much famed by tradition for his collo

quial wit, but the merit of whose good things eva

porated as soon as he attempted to interweave themwith comedy. His performers formed what wasentitled the King’s Company. With thi s last theatre


Dryden part icularly connected himself, by a contract to be hereaft er mentioned . None of hisearlier plays were acted by the Duke’s Company,unless those in which he had received assistancefrom others, whom he might think as well entitledas himself to prescribe the place of representation.

Such was the state of the English drama whenDryden became a candidate for theatrical laurels .So early as the year of the Restoration, he hadmeditated a tragedy upon the fate of the Duke ofGu ise but this, he has informed us, was suppressedby the advice of some friends, who told him, thatit was an excellent subject, bu t not so artificiallymanaged as to render it fit for the stage . It wereto he wished these scenes had been preserved, sinceit may be that the very want of artifice, alleged by

“

the critics of the day, would have recommendedthem to our more simple taste. We might atleast have learned from them, whether Dryden, inhis first essay, leant to the hero ic, or to the ancientEnglish tragedy. But the scene of Guise’s returnto Paris, is the only part of the original sketch whi chDryden thought fit to interweave with the play, asacted in 1 682 and as that scene is rendered literally from Davila, upon the principle that, in so

remarkable an action, the poe t was not at liberty tochange the words actually used by the personsinterested, we only learn from it, that the piecewas composed in blank verse, not rhyme.In the course of the year 1 661 - 2, our author

composed the Wild Gallant,” which was act ed


about February 1662 -3 withou t success. Thebeaut iful Countess of Castlemain, afterwardsDu chess of Cleveland, extended her protection tothe unfortunate performance, and received theincense of the au thor ; who boasts,

Poster i ty wi ll j u dge bymy su ccess,Ihad the Greci an poet’s happin ess,Who, waiving plots, fou n d ou t a betterwaySome god descen ded and preserved the play.

It was probably by the influence of thi s royalfavourite, that the W ild Gallant ” was more thanonce performed before Charles by his own command .

Bu t the author, his piece, and his poetical compliment,were hardly treated in a Session of the Poets,which appeared abou t 1 670. Nor did Sir RobertHoward, his associate, escape without his share ofridicule

S ir Robert Howard, cal l d for over an d over,

A t length sen t in Teagu ewi th a packet of n ews,Wherein th e sad kn ight, to h is grief, d id d i scoverHowDryden had lately robb’d himof h is Mu se.

Each man in the cou rt was pleased wi th the theft,Wh ich made the whole family swear an d ran t ,

D esiring, their Robin in th e lu rch being left,The th iefmigh t be pu n ish

’

d for h is Wild Gal lan t. ’

Dryden , who on ewould have thou gh t hadmorewi t,The cen su re of everyman did d isdain ,Plead ing some pi tiful rhymes he had wri tIn praise of the Coun tess of Castlemain e.

The play itself contained too many of those prizefights of wit, as Buckingham called them, in whi chthe plot stood absolutely still, while two of thecharacterswere showingthe audience their dexterity


Howard, who must be te rmed his friend, if nothis patron, in the composition of a rhyming play,called the Indi an Queen .

” The versification ofthis piece, whi ch is far more harmonious than thatgenerally used by Howard, shows evidently, thatour author had assiduously corrected the wholeplay, though it may be diffi cult to say how muchof it was wr itten by him. Clifford afterwardsu pbraided Dryden with having copied his A lmanz or from the character of Montezuma ; l and itmust be allowed, there is a striking resemblancebetween these two outrageous heroes, who carryconquest to any side they choose, and are restra inedby no human consideration, excepting the tears orcommands of their mistress . But whatever shareDryden had in thi s piece, S ir Robert Howardretained possession of the titlepage without aoknowledgmen t, and Dryden nowhere giv himselfthe trouble of reclaiming his property, except ina sketch of the connexion between the IndianQueen,

” and Indian Emperor,” where he simply

states, that he wrote a part of the former. TheIndian Queen” was acted with very great ap

plause, to which, doubtless, the scenery and dresse scontributed not a little. Moreover, it presentedbattles and sacrifices on the stage, aer ial demonssinging in the air, and the god of dreams ascendingthrough a trap the least of whi ch has often saveda worse tragedy. Evelyn, who witn essed this

Notes on Mr Dryden ’s Poems, 1687.


exhibition, has recorded, that the scenes were therichest ever seen in England, or perhaps elsewhere,upon a publi c stage .l

The Indi an Queen having been thus successful, Dryden was encouraged to engraft upon itanother drama, entitled, the “Indian Emperor .

”

It is seldom that the continuation Of a concludedtale is acceptable to the public. The present casewas an exception, perhaps because the connexionbetween the Indian Emperor” and its predecessorwas neither close nor necessary. Indeed, the wholepersons of the Indian Queen” are di sposed of bythe bowl and dagger, at the conclusion of that tra

gedy, excepting Montezuma, who, with a secondset of characters, the sons and daughters of thosedeceased in the fir st part, occupies the stage in thesecond play. The author might, therefore, havesafely left the audience to discover the plot Of theIndian Emperor,

” without embarrassing themwith that of the Indian Queen.

” But to preventmistakes, and principally, I should think, to explainthe appearance of three ghosts, the only persons

(if they can be termed such) who have any conn exion with the former drama, Dryden took theprecaution to print and disperse an argument ofthe play, in order, as the Rehear sal ” intimated,to insinuate into the audience some conception ofhis plot. The Indian Emperor” was probablythe first of Dryden’s performances whi ch drewupon him, in an eminent degree, the . att ention of

Evelyn ’s Memo irs, 5th February, 1664.

72 - L IFE OF JOHN DRYDEN.

the public. It was dedicated to A nne, Duchessof Monmouth, whom long afterward our authorstyled his first and best patron ess.

l This lady, inthe bloom of youth and

i

wit, and married to anobleman no less the darling of his father than of

the nat ion, had it in her power effectually to serveDryden, and doubtless exerted her influence inprocur ing himthat rank in publi c opinion, whichis seldom early attained without the sanction of

those who lead the fashion in literature. TheDuchess ofMonmouth probably liked in the In

dian Emperor,”n ot only the beauty of the numbers,

and the frequently exquisite turn of the description,but also the introduction of incantations and apparit ion s, ofwhich romantic style ofwr iting she wasa professed admirer . The Indian Emperor” hadthe most ample success and from the time of itsrepresentation, till the dav of his death, our author,though often rudely assailed, maintained the verypinnacle of poetical superiority, against all his contemporar ies .The dreadful fir e Of London, in 1 666, put a

temporary stop to theatrical exhibitions, whichwere n ot permitted till the following Chr istmas .We may take this opportunity to review the effectwhich the rise of Dryden’s reputation had uponhis private fortune and habits of life.While our author was the literary assistant of

S ir Robert Howard, and the hired labourer of

Herringman the bookseller, we may readily pre

Preface to King Arthu r, Dryden ’s Works, vol. viii ,p. 120.


sume, that hi s pretensions and mode Of living werenecessarily adapted to that mode of life into whichhe had descended by the unpopularity of hi s

puritanical connexions . Even for some time afterhis connexion with the theatre, we learn, from acontemporary, that hi s dress was plain at least, ifnot mean, and hi s pleasures moderate, though no t

inelegan t .l Bu t as his reputation advanced, he

natu rally glided into more expensive habits, andbegan to avail himself of the license, as well as topartake of the pleasures, of the time . We learnfrom a poem of his enemy Milbourne, that Dryden’s person was advantageous ; and that, in the

Iremember, says a corresponden t of the Gen tleman ’s

Magaz in e, for 1745, plain John D ryden , before he paid h iscour t wi th su ccess to the great, in on e u n iform c loth i ng of

Norwich - dru gget . I have eat tarts wi th himan d MadamReeve at the Mu lberry garden , when ou r au thor advanced t oa sword and a Chadreu x wig.

”—Page 99.— [On th i s n ote Mr

Hallarn (Ed in . Rev . 1808) says, Far less than coul d be expected i s kn own of Dryden ’s character an d cu stoms of l ife.The patron s whomhe flattered, an d the wi ts who cou rted h iscompan y, have been n egl igen t in preserving an y part icularmemorial s of on e whose acqu ain tan ce did them so mu chhon ou r. Congreve i s an exception , who has drawn h is chafracter wi th elegan ce, an d in the spiri t of frien dsh ip, bu t n otwi th su ffic ien tmi n u ten ess to sat isfy cur iosi ty. I t i s lamentable that Our biograph ical an t iqu ari es,who are so very learn edi n epi taphs and extracts frompar ish registers, are seldomso

lucky as to bring any th ing to l igh t, by wh ich aman ’s realchar acter i s d i stin gu i shed . Howmu ch has been wr i tten u ponShakesp eare an d Shakesp ere,—what long ped igrees of the Halls,Harts, and Hathaways,—wh i le the reader, amidst the profus ion of learn in g, searches in vain for a vestige of theman n ersan d Opin i0n8 . 0f him, in whomalon e he is in terested ! Parsmin ima est ip se poeta


younger part of his life, he was distinguished bythe emulous favour of the fair sex.

1 A nd althoughit would not be edifying, were it possible, to traceinstan ces of his success in gallantry, we may barelyn otice his intrigue with Mrs Reeves, a beautifulactress, who performed in many of his plays . Thisamour was probably terminated before the fairlady

’s retreat to a cloister, whi ch seems to havetaken plac e before the representation of Otway

’s

Don Carlos,” in Their connexion is

alluded to in the Rehearsal,” which was acted in

1 67 1 . Bayes, talking Of Amarill is, actually represented by Mrs Reeves, says, A y,

’tis a prettylittle rogue ; she

’s my mistress : I knew her facewould set off armour extremely ; and to tell youtrue, I writ that part only for her . There followsan obscure allusion to some gallantry of our authorin another quarter. But Dryden’s amours wereinterrupted, if not terminated, in 1 665, by hismarriage.Our author’s friendship with S ir Robert How

ard, and his increas ing reputation, had in troducedhim to the family of the Earl of Berkshire, fatherto his fr iend. In the course of this intimacy,

He descr ibes himas,S ti ll smoo th, aswhen , adorn

‘

dwith you thfu l pride,For thy dear sake the blushing virgins d ied,When the kind gods ofwt and love combin ed.A nd Wi th large g i fts thy yi eldi ng sou l refin ed."

3 The epi logu e has these l in esBu t nowif bymy sui t you ‘ll not bewon ,

You knowwhat your unkindness oft has done,I’ll e

'

en forsake the playhouse, and turn nun.”


the poet gained the affections of Lady Eli zabethHoward, the earl

’s eldest daughter, whom he soonafterwards married . The lampoons, by whichDryden’s private character was assailed in all

points, allege, that this marriage was formed undercircumstances dishonourable to the lady. But ofthis there is no evidence ; while the malignity ofthe reporters is evident and un di sguised. We mayhowever believe, that the match was not altogetheragreeable to the noble family of Berkshire. Dryden, it is true, might, in point of descent, beadmitted to form pretensions to Lady ElizabethHoward ; but his family, though honou rable, wasin a kind of disgrace, from the part which SirGilbe rt Pickering and Sir John Driden had takenin the civil wars while the Berkshire familywere remarkable for their attachment to the royalcause . Besides, many of the poet

’s relat'

engaged in trade ; and the all iance of his brothers“

in - law, the tobacconist and stationer, if it was thenformed, could not soun d dignified in the ears of aHoward . A dd to this a very important consideration,—Dryden had no chance of sharing the wealthof his pr incipal relations, which might otherwisehave been received as an atonement for the guiltyconfiscat ions by which it was procured. He hadquarreled with them, or they with him ; his present possession was a narrow independence ; andhis prospects were founded upon literary success,always precarious, and then connected with circumstances of personal abasement,which renderedit almost disreputable. A noble family might be


allowed to regret, that on e of their members waschiefly to rely for the maintenance of her husband,her family, and herself, upon the fees of dedi cations, and occasional pieces of poetry, and thecertain profits of the theatre.Yet, as Dryden

’s manners were amiable, hisreputation high, and his moral character u n except ionable, the Earl of Berkshire was probably soonreconciled to the match ; and Dryden seems tohave resided with his father - in - law for some time,s ince it i s from the Earl’s seat of Charlton, in Wiltshire, that he dates the Introduction to the “A nnus

published in the end of 1667 .

SO honourable a connexion might have beenexpected to have advanced our au thor’s prospectsin a degree beyond what he experienced ; but hi sfather- in - lawwas poor, considering his rank, andhad a large family, so that the portion of LadyElizabeth was inconsiderable. Nor was her wantof fortune supplied by patronage, or family influence. Dryden’s preferment, as poet laureat, wasdue to, and probably Obtained by, his literary character ; nor did he ever receive any boon suitableto his rank, as son - in - law to an earl. But, whatwas worst of all, the parties did not find mutualhappiness in the engagement they had formed . It

i s diflicult for a woman of a violent temper andweak intellects, and such the lady seems to havebeen, to endure the apparently causeless fluctuationOf spirits incident to on e doomed to labou r incessan tly in the feverish exercise of the imagination.

Unintentional neglect, and the inevitable relaxa


tic Poesy, in which he assumes, that the drama wasthe highest department of poetry ; and endeavoursto prove, that rhyming, or heroic, tragedies are themost legitimate offspring of the drama.The subject is agitated in a dialogue between

Lord Buckhurst, Sir Charles Sedley, Sir RobertHoward, and the author himself, under the feignedn ame s ofEugenius, Lisideiu s, Crites, andNeander.This celebrated Essay was first published in theend of 1667, or beginning of 1668. The authorrevised it with an unusual degree of care, andpublished it anew in 1684, with a Dedication toLord Buckhurst.In the introduct ion of the dialogue, our author

artfully solicits the attention of the public to theimproved versification , in which he himself so com

pletely excelled all his contemporaries ; and con

trasts the rugged lines and barbarous conceits ofCleveland with the more modern style of composition, where the thoughts were moulded into easyand sign ificant words, superfluities of expressionretrenched, and the rhyme

'

rendered so properly apart of the verse, that it was led and guided by thesense, which was formerly sacrificed in attaining it.This point being previously settled, a dispute occursconcerning the alleged superiority of the ancientclassic models of dramatic composition. This isresolutely denied by all the speakers, exceptingCrites the regulation of the unities is condemned,as often leading to greater absurdities than thosethey were designed to obviate and the classicauthors are censured for the cold and trite subj ects


of their comedi es, the bloody and horrible tdpics ofmany of their tragedi es, and their deficiency inpainting the passion of love . From all thi s, it i sjustly gathered, that the modems, though with lessregularity, possess a greater scope for invention,and have di scovered, as it were, a new perfectionin writing. This debated point being abandoned byCrites, (or Howard,) the partisan of the ancients,a comparison between the French and Englishdrama is next introdu ced. Sedley, the celebratedwit and courtier, pleads the cause of the French,an opini on whi ch perhaps was not singular amongthe favourites of Charles I I. But the rest of thespeakers unite in condemning the extolled simplicity Of the French plots, as act ual barrenne

'

ss,compared to the variety and copiousness Of theEnglish stage ; and their authors’ limiting theattention of the audi ence and interest of the pieceto a single principal personage, is censured aspoverty of imagination, when opposed to the diversification of characters exhibited in the dramatz

'

s

p ersona of the English poets . Shakspeare andJonson are then brought forward and contrastedwi th the French dramatists, and with each other.The former is extolled, as the man of all modern ,and perhaps ancient, poets, who had the largestand most comprehensive soul , and in tuitive kn owledge of human nature ; and the latter, as the mostlearned and judicious writer which any theatreever had . But to Shakspeare, Dryden objects,that his comic somet imes degenerates into clenches,and his serious into bombast ; to Jonson, the sullen


and saturnine character of his genius, his borrowing from the ancients, and the insipidity ofhis latterplays. The examen lead s to the discussion of apoint, in which Dryden had differed with SirRobertHoward. This was the use of rhyme in tragedy.

Our author had, itwill be remembered, maintainedthe superiority of rhyming plays, in the introductionto the Rival Ladies .” S ir Robert Howard, thecatalogue of whose virtues did n ot include that offorbearance, made a direct answer to the argumentsused in the introduction ; l and while he studiouslyextolled the plays of Lord Orrery, as affording anexception to his general sentence against rhyming

plays,he does not extend the compliment to Dryden,whose defence of rhyme was expressly dedicatedto that noble author. Dryden, not much pleased,perhaps, at being left undistinguished in the generalcensure passed upon rhyming plays by his friendand ally, retal iates in the Essay, by placing in themouth of Crites the arguments urged by S ir RobertHoward, and replying to them in the person of

Neander. To the charge, that rhyme is unnatural,in consequence of the inverted arrangement of thewords necessary to produce it, he replies, that, dulyordered, it may b e natural in itself, and thereforen ot unnatural in a play ; and that, if the obj ectionbe further insisted upon, it is equally conclu siveagainst blank verse, or measure without rhyme .

To the Objection fou nded on the formal and u niformrecurrence of the measure, he alleges the facili ty of

See Dryden ’s Works, vol. xv. , p. 362, n ote.


varyin g it, by throwing the cadence upon differentparts of the line, by breaking it into hemistiches, orby ru iming the sense into another line, so as tomake art and order appear as loose and free asnature.1 Dryden even contends, that, for variety

’ssake, the pindar ic measure might be admitted, ofwhich Davenant set an example in the Siege ofRhodes.” But this license, which was probablyborrowed from the Spanish stage, has never suc~

ceeded elsewhere, except in operas . F inally, it isurged, that rhyme, the most noble verse, is alonefit for tragedies, the most noble species of compositiou ; that far from injur ing a scene, in whichquick repartee is necessary, it is the last perfectionof wit to put it into numbers and that, even wherea trivial and common expression is placed, fromnecessity, in the mouth of an important character,

i t receives, from the melody of versification , adignity befitting the person that is to pronounce it.W ith this keen and animated defence of a modeof composition, in whi ch he felt his own excellence, Dryden concludes the E ssay of DramaticPoesy.

”

The publi cation of thi s criticism, the first thatcontained an express attempt to regulate dramaticwriting, drew general attention, and gave someofl

'

ence. Sir Robert Howard felt noways flatteredat being made, through the whole dialogue, thechampion of unsuccessful opinions : and a partiality

1 Sandford, amost ju dic iou s actor, is said, by Cibber, cautiously to have observed thi s rule, in order to avo id surfeitingthe audi en ce by the con t inu al recurrence of rhyme.VOL . I. F


to the depreciated blank verse seems to have beenhereditary in his family.

l He therefore hasted toassert his own opinion against that of Dryden, inthe preface to one of his plays, called the Duke ofLerma,

” published in the middle of the year 1 668.

It is diflicult for two fr iends to preserve theirtemper in a dispute of thi s nature ; and there maybe reason to believe, that some dislike to the all ian ceOfDryden, as a brother - in - law, mingled with thepoetical j ealou sy of Sir Robert Howard. Thepreface to the Duke of Lerma ” is written in thetone of a man of quality and importance, who isconscious of stooping beneath his own dig nity, andneglecting his graver avocations, by engaging in aliterary dispute . Dryden was not likely, of manymen, to brook this tone of affected superiority. Heretorted upon S ir Robert Howard very severely,i n a tract, entitled, the Defence of the Essay of

Dramatic Poesy,” which he prefixed to the second

edition of the Indian Emperor, published in1 668. In thi s piece, the author mentions his anta

gonist as master of more than twenty legions of

arts and sciences, in ironical allusion to Sir Robert’s

1 The hon ou rable Edward Howard, Sir Robert s brother,expresses h imself in the preface to the Usu rper, a playpu bl ished in 1668, n ot in sen sible to the d i sadvan tage i tmayrece ive passing in to the world u pon the n aked feet of verse,wi th o ther works that have theirmeasu res adorn ed wi th thetrappings of rhyme, wh ich , however they have su cceeded inwit or d esign ,

i s stil l thoughtmu s ic, as the hero ic ton e n owgoes ; bu t whether so n atural to a play, that shou ld mostn early imi tate, in some cases, ou r fami l iar con verse, the jud icionsmay easi ly d etermin e. ”


coxcomical afl‘

ectation of universal knowledge,which had already exposed him to the . satire of

Shadwell .l He is also described, in reference tosome foolish appearance in the House of Commons,as having maintained a contradiction in termim'

s, inthe face of three hundred persons. Neither doesDryden neglect to hold up to ridicule the slips inLatin and Engli sh grammar, which marked theoffensive preface to the Duke of Lerma.

”A nd

although he conclu des, that he honoured his adversary

’s parts and person as much as any man living,

and had so many particular obligat ions to him, thathe should be very ungratefu l not to acknowledgethem to the world, yet the personal and contemptuons severity of the whole piece must have cut tothe heart so proud a man as S ir Robert Howard.

This quar rel between the baronet and the poet,who was suspected of hav ing crutched- up manyOf hi s lame performances, furnished food for lampoon and amusement to the indolent wits of theday. But the breach between the brothers - in - law,

though wide, proved fortunately n ot irreconcilable ;and towards the end of Dryden’s literary career,we find him again upon terms of fr iendship withthe person by whom he had been befriended at its

1 Who drew Sir Robert in the character of Sir Posi tiveA tall in the Su llen Lovers a fool i sh kn igh t, that preten d sto u n derstand every th ing in the world, and W i ll su ffer n o

man to u n derstan d any thin g in h is company ; so fool i shlyposit ive, that he wi l l n ever be con vinced of an error, thoughn ever so gross. This character i s supported wi th greathumou r.


commencement.l Edward Howard,who, it appears,had entered as warmly as his brother into the contest with Dryden about rhyming tragedies, alsoseems to have been reconciled to our poet ; at leasthe pronounced a panegyric on his translation ofVirgil before it left the press, in a passage whichis also cur ious, from the author ranking in the sameline the two elaborate poems of Blackmore andMilton.

”2 In testimony of total amnesty, the De

In a letter fromDryden to Tonson , dated 26thMay, 1696,in wh ich he reckon s u pon Sir Robert Howard ’s assi stance ina pecu n i ary tran sac t ion .

1 amin formed Mr Dryden i s nowtran slating of Virgil ;an d al though Imu st own i t i s a fau l t to fores tall or an t icipatethe prai se of aman i n his labou rs, yet, bigwi th the greatn e ssof the work, an d th e vas t capac i ty of the au thor, I cannothere forbea r saying, that Mr D ryden, in the tran slating of

Virg il, wi l l of a certain make Marc speak better than everMarc though t. Besid es those alreadymen t ion ed, there areo ther ingred ien ts and essen t ial parts of poetry, n ecessary forthe forming of a tru ly great an d happy gen iu s, v iz . a free airand sp iri t, a vigorou s and well- govern ed though t, wh ich are,as i t were, the sou l wh ich in forman d an imate th e wholemass and body of verse . Bu t these are su ch d ivin e ex cellencies as are pecu l i ar on ly to the brave and the wi se. The

first ch ief in verse, who trode in th i s sweet and d el igh tfu lpath of the Mu ses, was the renown ed Earl of Roscommon , agreat worthy, as well as a great wi t ; an d who is, in all

respects, resembled by an other great L ord of th i s presen t age,v iz . my Lord Cu tt s, a person whomal l peoplemus t al lowtobe an accompl ished gen tleman , a great gen eral, and a fi nepoe t.

The two elaborate poems of Blackmore and Mi lton , th ewh ich, for the d ign i ty of them,may verywell be looked u ponas the two grand exemplars of poe try, do e i ther of themexceed, and aremore to be valu ed than all the poet s, both of


three or four hundred pounds, commum'

bus ann is.

E ither, however, the players became sens ible, that,by urging their pensioner to continued drudgery,they in fact lessened the value of his labour, or

Dryden felt himself unequal to perform the task hehad un dertaken ; for the average number of playswhich he produ ced was only abou t half that whi chhad been contracted for. The company, thoughn ot without grudging, paid the poet the stipulatedshare of profit ; and the curious document, recovered byMrMalone, not only establishes the termsof the bargain, but that the players, although theycomplained of the laziness of their indented author,were jealous of their right to his works, and anxiousto retain possession of him, and of them .

1 It would

I t seems to have been amemori al addressed to the LordChamberlain for th e t ime, an d was long in the possession of

the Kill igrewfami ly. I t was commu n icated by the learn edMr Reed to Mr Malon e, an d run s as fol lowsWhereas, u pon Mr Dryden ’s b in d in g h imself to wr i te

three p layes a-yeere, he, the said Mr D ryden , was admi tt ed, an d con t in u ed as a Sharer, in the King

’s Playhou se ford iverse years, an d received for hi s share and a qu arter, threeor fou r hu ndred pou nds, commun ibu s ann is ; bu t though herece ived themon eys,we received n ot the playes, n ot on e in ayeare. A fterwh ich, the Hou se being bu rn t, the Compan y, inbu i ld ing another, con tracted great debts, so that the sh ares fel lmu ch short of what they were formerly. Thereu pon , Mr

D ryden complain ing to the Company of h is wan t of proffi t,the Compan y was so k in d to him, that they n ot on ly d id n ot

presse him for th e playes wh ich he so engaged to wri te forthem, an d for wh ich he

\was paid beforehan d, bu t they d id

also, at h is earn est requ est, g ive hima th ird day for h i s lastn ewplay, cal led A ll for Love ; ’ and at th e rece ipt of themon ey of the said th ird day, he acknowledged i t as a gu ift,and a particu lar k in dn esss of the Compan y. Yet, n otwith


have been well for Dryden’s reputation, and perhaps not less produ ctive to the company, had thenumber of his plays been still farther abridged for,

while we admire the facil ity that could produce fiveor six plays in three years, we lament to find it soOften exerted to the sacrifice of the more essentialqualities of originality and correctness .Dryden had, however, made his bargain, and

was compelled to fulfi l it the best he might. A s hi s

last tragic piece, the Indian Emperor,”had been

eminentlysu ccessful, hewas next to showthe public,that his talents were not limited to the buskin ;

stand ing th i s k in d proceed ing, Mr Dryden has n ow, join tly .

wi th Mr Lee, (who was in pen sion wi th u s to the last day of

o u r playing, an d shal l con t in u e, )wr i tten a play, called (Ed i

pu s,‘an d given i t to the Duke’s Compan y, con trary to h is said

agreemen t, h is promise, and al l grati tu de, to the great prej ud ice an d almost u n do ing of the Compan y, they being the on lypoets remain ing to u s. Mr Crown e, being un der the l ikeagreemen t wi th the Duke’s Hou se, writ t a play, called th eDestru ct ion of Jeru salem,

’an d bein g forced, by their refusall

of i t, to bring i t to u s, the said Compan y compel led u s, afterthe studying of i t, and a vast expen se in scen es an d cloathes,

t o buy 03 their clayme, by pay ing all the pen s ion he had received from them, amou n ting to on e hun dred an d twelvepou n ds paid by the King’s Compan y, besides n eere fortypoun d s he, the said Mr Crown e, paid ou t of h is owh e pocket.

These th ings con sidered, if, n otwi thstan d ing Mr Dryden ’ssaid agreemen t, promi se, an dmon eys, freely g iven himfor hissaid las t n ewplay, an d themany ti tleswe have to h iswr i tings,th i s play be judged away fromus,wemu st su bmi t.

(Sign ed) CHA RLES KIL LrGaxw.

CHA RLES HA RT.

RICH . BURT.

Ca rme n . GOODMAN.

MIC. MOHUN.

”


and accordingly, late in 1667, was represented,the Maiden Queen, a tragi - comedy, in which,although there is a comic plot separate from thetragic design , our author boasts to have retained al lthat regularity and symmetry of parts which thedramatic laws require . The tragic scenes of theMaiden Queen ” were deservedly censured, as

falling beneath the Indian Emperor .” They haveneither the stately march of the heroic dialog ue,nor, what we would be more pleased to have foundin them, the truth of passion, and natural colouring,which characterised the Old English drama. Butthe credit Of the piece was redeemed by the comicpart, which is a more light and airy representationof the fashionable and li centious manners of thetime than Dryden could afterwards exhibit, excepting in Marriage a- la -Mode .” The king, whosejudgment on this subject was unquestionable, grac edthe Maiden Queen ” with the title of his p layan d Dryden insinuates that it would have beendedi cated to him, had he had confidence to followthe practice of the French poets in like cases . A t

least,he avoided the solecism of inscribing the king’s

own play to a subj ect and, instead of a dedication,we have a preface, in which the sovereign

’s favourable opinion of the piece is studiously insisted upon.

Neither was the praise of Charles conferred withoutcritical consideration for he justly censured the.concluding scene, in which Celadon an d Florimeltreat of their marriage in very light terms in presence of the Queen, who stands by, an idle spectator. This insult to Melpomene, and preference of

90 L l FE or JOHN DRYDEN.

of the authors . It was brought ou t in the Duke’shouse, of which Davenant was manager, with all

the splendour of scenic decoration, of which hewas inventor . The Open ing scene is described asbeing part icularly splendid, and the performanceof the spirits, with mops and mows,

” excitedgeneral applause . Davenant died before the publication of this piece, and his memory is celebratedin the preface .

Our author’s next play, if it could be properlycalled his, was Sir Martin Mar - all. This wasoriginally a translation of L

’

Etourdi ofMoliere,executed by the Duke of Newcastle, famous forhis loyal ty, and his skill in horsemanship . Drydenavailed himself of the noble tran slator’s permissionto improve and bring Sir Mart in Mar - all

”for

ward for his own benefit. It was attended withthe most complete su ccess, being played four timesat court, and above thi rty times at the theatr e inLincoln’s- Inn Fields ; a run chiefly attributed tothe excellent performance of Nokes, who repre

sented Sir Martin 1 The Tempest ” and Sir

Cibber,wi th his u su al vivac i ty, thu s describes the comicpowers of Nokes in th i s admired character ; an d many of thetrai ts remin d u s stron gly of ou r own excel len t L iston

In the lu d icrou s d i stresses, wh ich, by the laws of comedy,folly is often in volved in , he su n k in to su ch amixtu re of piteou spu si llan imi ty, and a con stern ation so ru efu lly lu d icrou s andincon solable, that when he had shook you to a fatigu e of

lau gh ter, i t became amoot poin t, whether you ough t n ot tohave p ity’d h im. When he d ebated anymatter by h imself,hewou ld shu t u p h ismou thwi th a dumb stu d iou s powt, an droll his fu l l eye in to su ch a vacan t amaz emen t, such palpableignoran ce ofwhat to th ink of i t, tha t h i s si len t perplexity

L IFE or JOHN DRYDEN. 9 1

Martin Mar - all were both acted by the Duke’scompany, probably because Dryden was in the on eassisted by Sir W illiam Davenant the manager,and because theother was entered in the name ofthe Duke of Newcastle . Of these two plays,Sir Martin Mar ll

” was printed anonymouslyin 1668. It did n ot appear with Dryden’s nameuntil 1697 . The Tempest,

” though acted beforeSir Martin Mar- all,

” was not printed un til1669- 70. They are in the present, as in formeredi tions,1 arranged according to the date of publication, which gives the precedence to Sir MartinMar- all,

” though last acted.

The Evening’s Love, or the Mock A strologer,”

(whichwould sometimes hold himseveralmin u tes) gave you rimag in at ion as fu ll con ten t, as themost absu rd thing he cou ldsay u pon i t. In the character of Sir Martin Mar- all, who i salways commi tt ing blu n ders to the preju d ice of h is own int eres t, when he had brough t h imself to a d ilemma in h isaffai rs, by vain ly proceed ing u pon h is own head, an d wasafterwards afraid to look h is govern ing servan t and cou n sellorin the face what a copiou s and d i stressfu l h arangu e have Iseen himmake wi th h is looks (while the hou se has been inone con t in u ed roar for several min u tes) before he cou ld prefvai l wi th h is cou rage to speak a word to him! Then migh tyou have, at on ce, read in h is face vexation—that h is ownmeasures, wh ich he had piqu ed h imself u pon , had fai leden vy of h i s servan t‘s W i t ; d i stress—to retr ieve the occas ionh e had lost ; shame—to con fess h i s folly ; and yet a su llend esire to be reconc i led, an d better advised for the fu tu re !WVhat tragedy ever showed u s su ch a tumu lt of passion s r i s ing,at on ce, in one bosom or what bu sk in hero, stan d ing u n derthe load of them, cou ld havemore effectu allymoved h is spectu tors by themost pathet ic speech , than poormiserable Nokesd id by th is si len t eloqu en ce, and pi teou s pl ight of h is features—CLBBER’

s A p ology, p . 86.

Of Dryden ’s Works.


Dryden’s next composition . It is an imitationof “L e Fein t A strologus

”of Corneille, which is

founded upon Calderon’s El A strologo F ingz'

do.

”

Several of the scenes are closely imitated fromMoliere’s D e

'

p z'

t Amoureux.

” Having that livelybustle, intri cacy of plot, and surprising situation,which the taste of the time requ ired, and beingen livened by the characters of Wildblood andJacinta, the Mock A strologer ” seems to havemet a favourable reception in 1 668, when it firstappeared. It was printed in the same, or in thefollowing year, and inscribed to the Duke ofNewcastle, to whom Dryden had been indebted for thesketch of Sir Martin Mar- all .

” It would appear,that thi s gallant and chivalrous peer was then aprotector of Dryden, though he afterwards seemsmore especially to have patronised his enemy Shadwell ; upon whose northern dedications, inscribedto the Duke and his lady, our author is particularlysevere. In the preface to the Evening’s Love,

”

Dryden anxiously justifies himself from the chargeof encouraging libertinism, by crowning his rakeand coquette with success. But after he has arrayed all the authority of the ancient and modernpoets, and has pleaded that these licentious characters are only made happy after being reclaimed inthe last scene, we may be permitt ed to think, thatmore proper heroes may be selected than those,who, to merit the reward assigned them, mustannounce a violent and sudden change from thecharacter they have sustained dur ing five acts ;and the attempt to shroud himself under authority

94 .L IFE OF JOHN DRYDEN.

race ; and, by a still more forced derivation, theline,

A nd followfate, wh ich does too fas t pursii e,”

is said to be borrowed from Virgil,Elud it gyro in terior sequ iturque sequentem.

An d he concludes by exulting,'

that, though hemight have written nonsense, none of hi s criticshad been so happy as to discover it. These indications of superiority, being thought to savour of

vanity, had their share in exciting the storm ofmalevolent criticism, of which Dryden afterwardsso heavily complained.

4“Tyrannic Love is dedicated to the Duke of Monmouth ; but it wouldseem the compliment was principally designed to

his duchess . The duke,whom Dryden was afterwards to celebrate in very different strains, is however compared to an A chilles, or Rinaldo, whowanted only a Homer, or Tasso, to give him thefame due to him.

It was in this period of prosperity, of generalreputat ion, of confidence in his geniu s, and perhaps of presumption, (if that word can be appliedto Dryden,) that he produ ced those two verys ingular plays, the F irst and Second Parts of theConquest of Granada.

” In these models of thepure heroic drama, the ruling sentiments of loveand honour are carried to the most passionateextravagance.l An d, to maintain the legitimacy

1 [S irWalter Scott says elsewhere, (Dryden ’s Works, vol.iv. p. 7, In the conduct of the story there ismu ch bril l ian cy


of this style of composition, our author, ever readyto vindicate with his pen to be right, that whichhis timid critics murmured at as wrong, threwthegaun tlet down before the admirers of the ancientEnglish school, in the epilogue to the SecondPart of the Conquest of Granada,

” and in thedefence of that epilogue . That these plays mightbe introduced to the publi c with a solemnity cor

responding in all respects to models of the rhymingtragedy, theywere inscribed to the Duke of York,and prefaced by an Essay upon Heroic Plays .”

They were performed in 1669—70, and receivedwith unbounded applause. Before we considerthe effect which they, and similar productions, produ ced on the public, together with the progres sand decay of the taste for heroic dramas, we mayfi rst noti ce the effect whi ch the ascendency of our

author’s reputation had produced upon his situationand fortunes .

of even t. The reader, or spectator, i s n ever al lowed to reposeon the scen e before him; an d although the changes of fortun eare too rapid to be ei ther probable, or al together pleasing, yetthey arrest the atten tion by their splen dou r an d importan ceand in terest u s in spi te of ourmore sober ju dgmen t. "If the reader can abstract h ismind fromthe qu al i t ies n ow

deemed essen t ial to a play, an d con sider the Conqu est of

Gran ada as a piec e of roman t ic poe try, there are fewcomposit ion s in the Engli sh langu ag e, wh ich convey a more l ivelyan d favourable d i splay of the magn ificen ce of fable, of

langu age, an d of action , proper to that style of composi tion .

Amid the splen d id orn amen ts of the stru ctu re, we lose sigh tof occasional d i sproportion an d in congru ity ; and , at an earlyage particu larly, there are few poems wh ich make a mored eep impression u pon the imag in at ion , than the Conqu est of


Whether we judge of the rank which Drydenheld in society by the splendour of his titled andpowerful friends, or by his connexions among menof genius, we must consider him as occu pying, atthis time,as high a station, in the very foremostcircle, as literary reputation could gain for itsowner. Independent Of the notice with which hewas honoured by Charles himself, the poet numbered among his friends most of the distinguishednobility.

’

The great Duke of Ormond had alreadybegun that connexion, whi ch subsisted betweenDryden and three generations of the house ofButler ; Thomas Lord Clifford, one of the Cabalministry, was uniform in patronising the poet, andappears to have been active in introducing himtothe king

’ s favour ; the Duke of Newcastle, as wehave seen, loved himsufficiently to present himwith a play for the stag e the witty Earl of Dorset,then Lord Buckhurst, and Sir Charles Sedl ey,admired in that loose age for the peculiar eleganceof his loose poetry, were his intimate associates, asis evident from the turn of the E ssay of DramaticPoesy,

” where they are speakers ; W ilmot Earl ofRochester (soon to act a very different part) wasthen anxious to vindicate Dryden’s writings, tomediate for him with those who distributed theroyal favour, and was thus careful, not only of hisreputation, but his fortune.

1 In short, the first

L“ I t is to your Lordsh ip’s favou rwe gen erally owe our

protect ion and patron age an d to the n oblen ess of you r nature,wh ich wi ll n ot su ffer the least shadowof you rwit to be con

temned in othermen . You have been often pleased, not on ly


from emulating its fl ight, or hardened by pervertedfeeling against loving its possessors .But, besides the society Of these men ofwit an d

pleasu re, Dryden enjoyed the affection and esteemof the ingenious Cowley, who wasted his brillianttalents in the unprofitable paths of metaphysicalpoetry ofWaller and of Denham, who had doneso much for Engli sh versificat ion ; of Davenant,as subtle as Cowley; and more harmonious thanDenham, who, with a happier model, wou ld probably have excelled both . Dryden was also knownto Milton, though it may be doubted whether theyjustly appreciated the talents of each other. Of allthe men of genius at this period, who se claims toimmortality our age has admitted, Butler aloneseems to have been the adversary of our author’sreputation.

While Dryden was thus generally kn own andadmired, the advancement of his fortune bore noequal progress to the splendour of his literary fame .

Something was, however, done to assist it. TheOffice of royal historiographer had become vacantin 1666 by the decease of James Howell , and in1 668 the death of Davenan t opened the situationof poet laureat. These two offi ces, with a salary ofL2 00 paid quarterly, and the celebrated an nualbutt of canary, were conferred u pon Dryden 18thA ugust, 167O. The grant bore a retrospect to theterm after Davenant’s demi se, and is declared tobe to John Dryden, master of arts, in consideration of his many acceptable services theretoforedone to his present Maj esty, and from an observa


t ion of his learning and eminent abili ties, and hisgreat skill and elegant style, both in verse andprose.” 1 Thus was our author placed at the headof the literary class of his cou ntrymen, so far as thathigh station could be conferred by the favour of the

Ifwe compute Dryden’s share in the theatre atL300 annually, whi ch is lower than itwas rated bythe actors in their petition ; 2 if we make, at thesame time, some allowance for those presents whichauthors of that time received u pon presenting dedications, or occasional pieces of poet ry if we recollect, that Dryden had a small landed property, andthat his wife, Lady Eliz abeth, had probably somefortun e, or allowance, however trifling, fromher

family, - I think we will fall considerably underthe mark in computing the poet’s income, du ringthis period of prosperity, at L .600 or L .700 ah

nually ;3 a sum more adequate to procure all the

Pat . 22 Car. i i . , p. 6, n . 6. Malon e, i. , p . 88.

Their accou n t was probably exaggerated. Upon a simi larOccasion , themaster of the revels stated the valu e of h i swin teran d summer ben efit plays at L .5O each al thou gh, in real i ty,they d id n ot, u pon an average, produ ce him L . 9. - See

JMA LONE’

S H istorical A ccou n t of the S tage.

3[This po in t has been in vestigated by Malon e wi th a

min u ten ess wh ich , in th i s in stan ce, we certain ly th ink wellemployed (Malon e

's L ife, p . Fromh is data, i t seemsthat Mr Scott has rated D ryden ‘s in come rather too h igh ;bu t if we su ppose him to have possessed bu t L .500 a- year,equ al at least to L . 1500 at presen t, th is i s plac in g the c ircumstances of a poet,who has been a proverb, even among h is own

tr ibe, for pen u ry, in a very n ew l ight . Yet he h as n ever been.

accu sed of extravagance, or over- stating h is own d istresses.


c omforts , and many of the luxuries, of life, thant hrice the amount at present. We must, at thesame t ime, recollect, that, though Dryden is n owhere censured for extravagance, poets are seldomcapable of minute economy, and that Lady Elizabeth was by edu cation, and perhaps by nature,u nfitted for supplying her husband’s deficiencies .These halcyon days, too, were but of short durat ion. The burning of the theatre, in 1670, greatlyinjured the poet’s income from that quarter ; his

p ension, like other appointments of the householde stablishment of Charles I I., was very irregularly

p aid ; and thus, if his income was competent inamount, the payment was precarious and uncertain.

Leaving Dryden for the present in the situationwhich we have described, and whi ch he occupiedd uring the most fortunate period of his life, then ext Section may open with an account of the public taste at this time, and of the revolution in itwhich shortly took place.

W emu st suppose, therefore, that h i s in come was irregular,a n d h i s salary n ot regu larly forthcoming from the scan tyexchequ er of Charles—Han an , 1806 ]

1 02 LI FE OF JOHN DRYDEN.

such a drama are summed up by Dryden in thetwo first lines of the Orlando F u rz

'

oso,”

L e Don ne , i ca valien'

, Parme, gli amoriL e cortesie

,l’

audaci imp rese.”

The story thus partaking of the nature of a ro

mance of chivalry, the whole interest of the playnecessarily turned upon love and honour, thosesupreme idols of the days of knight- errantry. The

love introduced was not of that ordinary sort,which exists between persons of common mould ;it was the love of A madis and Oriana,of C roondates and S tatira ; that love which required asacrifice of every wish, hope, and feeling, un conn ect ed with itself, and which was expressed in thelanguage of prayer and of adoration. It was thatlove which was neither to be chilled by absence,n or wasted by time, nor quenched by infidelity.

No caprice in the obj ect beloved entitled her slaveto emancipate himself fromher fetters ; n o command, however unreasonable,was to be di sobeyedif required by the fair mistress of his afl

'

ect ions,

the hero was not only to sacrifice his interest, buthis

‘

friend, his honour, his word, his country, ev enthe gratification of his love itself, to maintain thecharacter of a submissive and faithful adorer.

theway, wh ich ough t to have si len ced him, when he affectedt o set the n ame of Corn eille above that of Shakspeare. Of

D ryden , the samemay perhaps be said,wi th very l i ttle except ion bu t each had great kn owledge of men great power ofreason ing in forc ible an d compressed langu age ; and a comman d of the vers ificat ion of hi s own tongu e . The fol lowingaccoun t of thes e heroic traged ies is l ively and j u st ."H A LLAMJ


Much of thi s mystery is summed up in the following speech of A lmahide to Almanz or, and hisan swer from which it appears, that a lover of thetrue heroic vein never thought himself so happy,as when he had an opportu nity of thus showingthe pm'ity and disinterestedness of his passion.

A lmanz or is commanded by his mistress to stayto assist his rival, the king, her husband. Thelever very naturally asks,

A lmanz . What recompen se atten dsme, if I stayA lmah. You kn ow I amfromrecompen se debarr’d,

Bu t I will gran t yourmer i t a reward ;You r flame’s too n oble to d eserve a cheat,A n d I too plain to pract ise a dece i t.I n o return of love can evermake,B u t what I ask is formy hu sban d

’s sake ;He, I con fess, has been u ngrateful too,B u t he an d l are ru in ’

d if you go

Your v irtu e to the hardest proof I br ing ;Un bribed, preserve ami stress and a k ing.

A lmanz . I ’l l st0p at n oth ing that appears so braveI’

ll do’

t , and n ow I n o reward wil l have .You ’ve g iven my hon our su ch an ample fieldThat Imay die, bu t that shall n ever yield .

The king, however, not perhaps understanding thi snice point of hon omy grows j ealous, and wishes todismiss the di sinterested ally, whom his spouse’sbeauty had enl isted in his service . But this didnot depend upon him for A lman z or exdaMs,

A lman z . I wonn ot go ; I’

ll n ot be forced away1 came n ot for thy sake n or do I stay.It was the qu een who formy aid d id sen d ;A n d ’t is I on ly can th e qu ee n defen dI, for her sake, thy sceptre wi ll main tain ;A nd thou, byme, in

‘

sp ite of thee, shalt reign .

”


The'

most applauded scenes in these plays turnedupon nice discussions of metaphysical passion, suchas in the days of yore werewont to be agitated inthe courts and parliaments of love. Some puz zlingdilemma, or metaphysical abstraction, is argued between the personages on the stage, whose dialogue,instead of presenting a scene of natural passion,exhibits a sort of pleading, or combat of logic, inwhich each endeavours to defend his own opinionby catching up the idea expressed by the formerspeaker, and returning him his illustration, orsimile, at the rebound and where the lover hopesevery thing from his ingenuity, and trusts nothingto his passion. Thus, in the following scene between A lmanz or and Almahide, the solicitationsof the lover, and the denials of the queen, areexpressed in the very carte and tierce of poeticalargumentation

A lmah. My l igh t wil l su re d i scover thosewho talk .

Who dares to in terru ptmy private wal kA lman z . He who dares love, an d for that lovemu st d ie,

An d, kn owing th i s, dares yet love on , am I .A lma/z . That love wh ich you can hope, and I can pay,May be received an d g iven in open dayMy praise an dmy esteemyou had before ;An d you have bou n d you rself to ask n omore.A lman z . Yes, I have bou ndmyself ; bu t wil l you take

The forfei t of that bond, wh ich force d id make ?A lmah. You kn owyou are fromrecompen se debarr

’d ;

Bu t pu rest love can l ive W i thou t reward.

A lmanz . Pure love had n eed be to i tself a feast ;For, l ike pu re elemen ts, ”twi l l nou r ish least.A lma/z . I t therefore yields the on ly pure con ten t ;

For i t, l ike angels, n eeds n o n ou r i shmen t .To eat and dr in k can n o perfect ion beAll appet ite impl i es n ecess i ty.


partakes more of the Spanish than of the Frenchtragedy, although it does not demand that theparody shall be so very strict, as to re- echo nounfor noun , or verb for verb, whi ch Lord Hollandgives us as a law of the age of Lope de Vega.l

The English hero ic poet did enough if he displayedsu ffi cient point in the dialogue, and alertness inadopting and retorting the image presented by thepreceding speech ; though, if he could twist thespeaker’s own words into an answer to his argument, it seems to have been held the more ingeniousmode of confutation.

While the hero of a rhyming tragedy was thusunboundedly submissive in love, and dexterousin applying the metaphysical logic of amorous

j urisprudence, it was essential to his character thathe should possess all the irresistible courage andfortune of a p reua: chevalz

’

er. Numbers, howeverunequal, were to be as chaff before the whirlwindof his valour ; and nothing was to be so impossible,that, at the command of his mistress, he could notwith ease achieve . When, in the various changesof fortune which such tragedies demand, he quarreled with those whom he had before assisted toconquer,

Then to th e vanqu ish’d part h i s fat e he led,

The vanqu ish’d triumph

’d, and the victor fled .

”

The langu age of such a personage, unless whenengaged in argumentative dialogue with his mistress,was, in all respects, as magnificent and inflated

L ife of Lope de Vega, p . 208.


as'might beseem hi s irres istible prowess . Witness

the famous speech of A lman z or :

A lmanz . To l ive !If fromthy han ds alon emy death can be,I amimmortal, an d a god to thee .If I wou ld k i ll thee n ow, thy fate’s so low,

That I mu st stoop ere I can g ive the blowBu t min e i s fix’

d so far above thy crown ,

That al l thymen ,F il ed on thy back, ca n n ever pu l l i t downB u t, atmy case, thy destin y I sen d,By ceas ing fromth i s hou r to be thy frien d .

L ike heaven , I n eed bu t on ly to stan d sti ll,A n d, n o t con cu rring to thy l ife, I ki ll .Thou can st n o t i tle tomy du ty bring ;I’mn ot thy su bject, an d my sou l

’s thy k ing.

Farewel l . When I amgon e,There’s n ot a star of th in e dare stay wi th theeI’

ll wh istle thy tame fortun e aftermeA n d wh irl fate wi thme wheresoe’er I fly,A swin ds dr ive storms before themin the sky .

It was expected by the audience, that the pompof scenery, and bustle of action, in which suchtremendous heroes were engaged, should in somedegree correspond with their lofty sentiments andsuperhuman valou r . Hence solemn feasts, processions, and battles by sea and land, filled thetheatre. Hence, also, the sudden and violentchanges of fortune, by which the hero and hisantag onist s are agitated through the whole piece .

Fortune has been often compared to the sea ; butin a heroic play, her course resembled an absoluteBay of Biscay, or Race of Portland, disturbed byan hundred contending currents and eddies, andnever continuing a moment in one steady flow.


That no engine of romantic surprise might bewanting, Dryden contends, that the dramatist, ashe i s not confined to the probable in character, sohe is not limited by the bounds of nature in thea ction, bu t may let himself loose to visionaryobj ects, and to the representation of such thingsas, not depending upon sense, leave free exercisefor the imagination . Indeed, if ghosts, magicians,and demons, might with propriety claim a placeanywhere, it mu st be in plays which throughou td isclaim the common rules of nature, both in theincidents narrated, and the agents interested.

‘

Lastly, the action of the hero ic drama was tobe laid, not merely in the higher, but in the veryhighest walk of life. N0 one could with decoru maspire to share the sublimities which it annexed tocharacter, except those made of the porcelainclay of the earth,

” dukes, princes, kings, andkaisars. The matters agitated must be of moment, proportioned to their characters and elevatedstation, the fate of cities and the fall of kingdoms .That the language, as well as actions and cha

racter of the dramatic p ersona , might be raised

Dryden was severely cen su red by the cri tics for h is su pern atu ral person s, an d iron ically described as the man , n atu reseemed tomake choice of to en large the poet’s empire, an d tocomplete those d i scoveries o thers had begu n to shadow. ThatShakspeare and Fletcher (as some th in k) erected the pi llarsof poetry, i s a grosse errour ; th i s Zan y of Columbu s has d iscovered a poet icallworld of greater exten t than the n atural] ,peopled wi th A tlan t ick colon ie s of n ot ion all creatu res, astral!spiri ts, ghosts, and idols,more var iou s than ever the In d ian sworshipt , an d heroesmore lawless than their savages . —Censu re of the Rota .

'1 10 LIFE or JOHN DRYDEN.

t ions of bull- feasts, battles, and tou rnaments ; hisfortune undergoing the strangest, most causeless,and most unexpected varieties his hi story chequered by the marvellous interference ofghosts, spectres,and hell itself ; his actions effecting the change ofempires, an d his co - agents being all lords, andd ukes, and noble prin ces , in order that their rankmight, in some slight degree, co rr espond to thenative exaltation of the champion’s character .The reader may smile at this description, and

feel some surprise how compositions, involving suchgross absurdities, were tolerated by an audience,having pretence to taste and civilisation. Butsomething may be said for the heroic drama.Although the manners were preposterou s, and

the changes of fortune rapid and improbable, yetthe former often attained a sublime, though forcedelevation of sentiment and the latter, by rapidityof transition and of contrast, served in no slightdegree to interest as well as to su rprise the audience.If the spectators were occasionally stunned withbombast, or hurried and confu sed by the accumu a

lation of action and intrigue, they escaped thelanguor of a creeping dialogue, and the tedium of

a barren plot, of which the termination is descriedfull three acts before it can be attained. Besides,if these dramas were sometimes extravagant, beautiful passages often occurred to atone for thesesallies of fury. In others, ingenuitymakes someamends for the absence of natu ral feeling, and thereader’s fancy is pleased at the expense of histaste. In representation, the beauty of the verse,

LIFE or JOHN DarDEN;'l l I

assisted by the enunciation of such actors as Bets

terton and Mohun, gilded over the defects Of thesense, and afforded a separate gratification. Thesplendour of scenery also, in which these playsclaimed a peculiar excellence, afforded a differentbut certain road to popular favour ; and thus thisdrama, with all its faults, was very far from wanting the usual requisites for success. But anotherreason for its general popularity may be sought ina certain correspondence with the manners Of thetime.Although in Charles the Second’s reign the age

of chivalry was totally at an end, yet the sentiments, which had ceased to be motives of action,were not so Obsolete as to sound totally stran ge tothe publi c ear . The French romances of the lowerclass, such as Cassandra,

” Cleopatra,”&c ., were

t he favour ite pastime of the ladi es, and retained all

the extravagances Of chivalrous sentiment, with adouble portion Of tedious form and metaphysicalsubtlety. There were occasionally individualsroman t ic enough to manage their correspondenceand amours on thi s exploded system . The admiredMrs Philips carried on an extensive correspondence with ingenious persons Of both sexes, in whichshe called herself Orinda, and her husband, Mr

'Wogan, by the title Of A n ten or . Shadwell, an

acute Observer Of nature, in one of his comedi es,describes a formal coxcomb of this class, who

'

c ourts his mistress out Of the Grand Cyrus,” and

rejoices in an opportunity Of showing that his

1 12 LIFE or JOHN DRYDEN.

passion could subsist in despite of her scorn.

l Itis probable he had met with such an original inthe course Of his Observation . The Précz

'

euses ofMoliere, who affected a strange mixtu re of theromantic heroine an d modern fine lady, belong tothe same clas s Of Oddities, and had their prototypesunder the observation of the satir ist. But eventhose who were above su ch foppery had been earlytaught to read an d admire the conceits of Donne,and the metaphysical love - poems of Cowley. Theycould not Obj ect to the quaint and argumentativedialogues whi ch we have described ; for the courseof their studi es had formed their taste upon amodel equally artificial and fantastic : and thus,what between real excellence, and false brilliancy,the age had been accustomed, not only to admit,but to admire heroic plays .Perhaps even these favourable circumstances, of

taste and Opportunity, would hardly have elevatedthe rhyming drama so high in the public opinion,had it been supported by less powers than those ofDryden, or even by equal talents less happilyadapted to that s tyle Of composition . H is versifi ‘

cation flowed so easily, as to lessen the bad effects1 Hismi stress having fal len in lovewi th a d isgu ised barber,

a less pol i shed rival exclaims,Sir Hum. Nay, formy part, madam, if you mu st love a

cu dgeled barber, an d take himfor a val i an t cou n t,makemu chof him I shal l desist there are more lad ies, heaven bethan ked .

Trim. Yes, sir, there aremore lad ies bu t if anyman afiirmsthatmyfair Dor in da has an equ al, I thu s fl ing downmyglove,and do deman d the combat for her honour.—Th is i s a n icepoin t of honou r Ihave hit.”—B ur_r/fair.


For all these reasons, the heroic drama appearsto have gradually risen in reputation, from thereturn of Charles till about the year 16704 , whenDryden’s Conquest of Granada ” was receivedwith such enthusiastic applause . The reputation ofthe poet himself kept pace with that of his favou ritestyle Of composition and though posterity hasjudged more correctly, it may be questioned,whether Tyrannic Love and the Conquest ofGranada did not place Dryden higher in publicesteem, in 1670, than his Virgil ” and Fablesin 1 700. He was, however, now to experiencethe inconveniences Of elevation, and to sustain anattack upon the style Of writing whi ch he had vindicated and practised, as well as to repel the effortsof rivals, who boasted Of outstripping him in thevery road to distinction, which he had himselfpointed ou t . The Duke Of Buckingham attackedthe system Of rhyming plays from the foun dation ;Leigh, Clifl

'

ord, and other scribblers, wrote criti

cisms upon those of our author in particular andElkanah Settle was able to form a faction hereticalenough to maintain, that he could write such com

positions better than Dryden .

The witty farce of the Rehearsal 18 said tohave been meditated by its authors, (for it was thework Of several hands,) so early as a year or two

their cen su res before -b an d ; con fessing ingenu ou sly, that hadhe ven tu red h i s wi ts u pon the ten ter- hooks of Fortu n e, (l ikeother poetswho depen ded more u pon themer i ts of their pen s,)he had been more severely en tangled in his own l in es longago. —Page 7.

LIFE OF JOHN DRYDEN. 1 15

after the Restoration, when S ir W illiam Davenant’s operas and tragedies were the favouriteexhibitions . The ostensible author was the wittyGeorge Villi ers, Duke of Buckingham, whosedissipation was marked with shades Of the darkest

profligacy. He lived an unprincipled statesman,a fickle projector, a wavering friend, a steadyenemy and died a bankrupt, an outcast, and a proverb . The Duke was unequal to that masculinesatire, which depends for edge and vigour uponthe conception and expression Of the author. 1 Bu the appears to have possessed considerable powersof discerning what was ludicrous ; and enough of

subo rdinate humour to achi eve an imitation of col

loqu ial peculiarities, or a parody upon remarkablepassages ofpoetry, —talents difl

‘

ering as widely fromreal wit, as mimicry does from true comic action.

Besides, Buckingham, as a man of fashion and acourtier, was master Of the p ersg

'

flage, or j argon ofthe day, so essentially useful as the mediu mofconveying light humour . He early di stinguishedhimselfas an opponent of the rhyming plays . Thoseof the Howards, of Davenant, and others, the firstwhich appeared after the “Reformation,

”experien

sed his opposition A t the representation of theUnited Kingdoms, by the Honourable Edwar dHoward, a brother of S ir Robert, the Duke

’s activeshare in damning the piece was so far resented bythe author and his friends, that he narrowly escaped

1 Of th iswan t of talen t the readermay fi nd su flicien t proofi n th e extracts fromh is Grace’s reflect ion s u pon A bsalomand A ch itophel.”—See Dryden

’s Warias, vol. ix. p. 273.

1 16 LI FE or JOHN DRYDEN.

san gu inary proofs of their displeasure. 1 This spe

eimen of irritation did not prevent his medi tatingan attack upon the whole body Of modern dramatists ; in whi ch he had the assistance of severalwits,who either respected the anc ient drama, or

condemn ed the modern style , or weremake common cause with a Duke against a poetlaureat. These were, the witty author of Hudiq

bras,who,while himself starving, amusedhismiseryby ridiculin g his contemporaries Sprat, afterwardsB ishop of Rochester, then Buckingham

’s chaplain ;and Martin Clifford, afterwards Master of theChapter -Hou se, the author

‘

Of a very scurrilousc riticism upon some of Dryden’s plays, to be men-s

t ioncd hereafter . By the jo int efforts of this coali

1 See Key to the RehearsaL” Ourmost n oble au thor,t oman ifest h i s j u st in d ign at ion an d hatred of th i s fu lsome newway Of wr i ting, u sed h is u tmost in terest an d en deavou rs tost ifle i t at i ts fi rst ap pearan ce on th e stage, by engag in g all hisfrien d s to explode and run down th ese plays ; espec i ally theUn i ted Kingdoms,’ wh ich had l ike to have brough t hi s l ife

i n to d anger.The au thor of i t be ing n obly born , of an an ci en t an d n u

merone fami ly, had man y of h is relation s an d frien ds in thecockpi t d u ring the act ing of i t. Some Of th emperce iving hisGrace to head a party, who were very act ive in damn ing th ep lay, by h issing an d laugh ing immod erately at the strangecon du ct thereof, there wei e person s laid wai t for himas he

came ou t ; bu t there being a great tumu lt an d u proar in thehou se an d the passages n ear i t, he escaped ; bu t hewas threaten ed h ard . However, the bus in esswas composed in a shortt ime, thou gh by whatmean s I have n ot been in formed .

” The

t rade of cr i t ic ismwas n ot u n iformly safe in those days. In

the Preface to the Reforma t ion , a bean i s on ly di rectedto ven ture to abu se a n ewplay, if he knows the author is no


longer a wellknown or worthy Object of ridicule;Perhaps also there was a difficulty in bringing the

p iece forward, while, Of the persons against whomi ts satire was chiefly directed, Davenant was manager of the one theatre, and Dryden a Sharer in theo ther . The death of Davenant probably removedthi s difiiculty : and the success of Dryden in theheroic drama ; the boldness with which he stood.forth, not only as a practiser, but as the championof that pecu liar style ; a certain provoking toneo f superiority in his critical essays, which, evenwhen flowing from conscious merit, is not easilytolerated by contemporaries ; and perhaps hissitu ation as poet laureat, a post which has beenalways considered as a fair butt for the shafts ofr idicule— induced Buckingham to resumeof his satire, and to place Dryden in the situationd esigned originally for Davenant or Howard.

That the public might be at no loss to assign thecharacter of Bayes to the laureat, his peculiaritiesof language were strictly copied . Lacy the actorwas instructed by Buckingham himself how to mimic his vo ice and manner and, in performing thepart, he wore a dress exactly resembling Dryden

’su sual habit. W ith these ill- natured precau tions,the Rehearsal” was, in 167 1 , brought forwardfor the first time by the King

’s Company. A s,

besides the repu tation of Dryden, that of manyinferior poets, bu t greater men , was assailed bythe Duke’s satire, it would appear that the playmet a stormy reception on the first night of repre‘

LIFE or JOHN DRYDEN. 1 19

sentation . The friends Of the Earl of Orrery, of

Sir Robert Howard and his brothers, and othermen of rank,who had produ ced heroic plays, wereloud and furious in their opposit ion. B u t , asusually happens, the party who laughed got theadvantage over that which was angry, and finallydrew the audience to their side . When oncereceived, the success of the Rehearsal ” wasunbounded. The very popularity Of the - playsridiculed aided the effect of the satire, since everybody had in their recollection the originals of thepassages parodied . Besides the attraction of personal severity upon living and distinguished literary characters, and the broad humour of the

burlesque, the part of Bayes had a claim to superior praise, as drawn with admirable attention tothe foibles of the poetic tribe . H is greedy appe

t ite for applause ; hi s testy repulse of censm'

e orcriticism his inordinate and overwhelming vanity,not unmixed with a vein of flattery to those whohe hopes will gratify him by returning it in kindfinally, that extreme, anxiou s, and fidgeting at

tention to the min ute parts of what even in wholeis scarce worthy Of any,—are, I fear, but tooappropriate qualities Of the “gen us vatum.

Almost all Dryden’s plays, including those onwhi ch he set the highest value, and which he had

‘

produced, with confidence, as models of their kind,were parodied in the Rehearsal .” He alone cont ributed more to the farce than all the other poetstogether. H is favourite style Of comic dialogue,

1 20 LIFE OF JOHN DRYDEN.

which he had declared to cons ist rather in a quicksharpness of dialogue than in delineations of humour, l is paraphrased in the scene between TomThimble and Prince Prettyman ; the lyrics of hisastral spirits are cruelly burlesqued in the song of

the two lawful Kings of Brentford, as they descendto repossess their throne ; above all, Alman z or, hisfavour ite hero, is parodied in the magnanimousDrawcans ir ; and, to conclude, the whole scope ofheroic plays, with their combats, feasts, processions, sudden changes of fortune, embarrassmentsof chivalrous love and honour, splendid verse an d

unnatural rants, are so held up to ridicule, as

usually to fix the resemblance upon some one of hisown dramas . The Wild Gallant,” the MaidenQueen,

” and Tyrannic Love,”all furnish parodies,

as do both parts of the Conqu est of Granada,”

which had been frequently acted before the repre

scutation of the Rehearsal,” though not printed

till after. What seems more strange, the play ofMarriage a- la—Mode” is also alluded to, althoughit was neither acted n or printed till 1673, a yearafter the

'

appearance of the Rehearsal Butthere being no parody of any particular passage,although the plot and condu ct of the piece are

certainly ridi culed, it seems probable, that, as Dryden often showed his plays ia manuscript to thosewhom he accounted his patrons, the plan Of Mar

riage a- la-Mode ” may have transpired in the

Preface to An Even ing’s Love.”—Dryden

’s Works, vol .

‘iiic , P' 2250

1 22 L IFE OF JOHN DRYDEN.

though he veiled his resentment under this maskof indifference at the time, he afterwards avowed,that the exquisite character of Zimri in A bsalomand A chitophel,

” was laboured with so mu ch feli citous skill, as a requ ital in kind to the author of theRehearsal .” l

The ridi cule cast u pon heroic plays by the Re

hear sal,”di d not prevent their being st ill exhibited .

They contained many passages of splendid poet ry,which continued to delight the audience after theyhad laughed at Buckingham’s parody. But thecharm began to dissolve ; and from the time of thatrepresentation, they seem gradually, bu t percept ibly, to have declined in favour . A ccordingly,Dryden did not trust to his powers of numbers in

bettersweremore concern ed than I was in that satire ; an d,las tly, becau se Mr Smith an d Mr John son , themain pi llarsof i t,were two such langu i sh ing gen tlemen in their con versat ion , that I cou ld liken themto n oth ing bu t to their ownr elation s, those noble characters of men of wi t an d pleasu reabou t th e town .

”- Dedication to Juven al,Dryden

’

sWorks, vol.xi ii . p . 10.

The pain swh ich Dryden bestowed on the character ofZimri, an d the esteemin wh ich he held i t, i s eviden t fromhisqu ot ing i t as themaster- piece of hi s own satire The cha

racter of Zimr i in my A bsalom,

’ i s, inmy Op1 n 10n ,worth thewhole poem: i t i s not bloody, bu t i t i s r id icu lou s en ough and

he, forwhomi twas in ten ded, was toowi tty to resen t i t as aninju ry. If I had rai led, I might have su ffered for i t j u stly ;bu t I man aged my own work more happi ly, perhaps mored exterou sly. I avo ided the men tion of great crimes, an d

appl i ed myself to the represen t ing of bl ind sides, and l i ttleextravagan ces towh ich, thewi tt ier aman i s, he is gen erallythemore obnoxiou s. It su cceed ed as Iwished ; the jest wen trou nd, and he was laughed at in his tu rn who began the

frolic.”

L I FE OF JOHN DRYDEN. 123

his next play, but produced the Marriage a- la

Mode,” a tragi- comedy, or rather a tragedy and

comedy, the plots and scenes Of which are intermingled, for they have no natural connexion witheach other. The state- intrigue bears evidentmarks of hurry and inattention ; and it is at leastpossible, that Dryden originally intended it for thesubject of a proper heroic play, but, startled at theeffect of Buckingham’s sat ire, hastily added to itsome comic scenes, either lying by him, or composed Ou purpose. The higher or tragic plot is notonly grossly inartificial and improbable, but its inc idents are so perplexed and obscure, that it wouldhave requ ired much more action to detail themintelligibly. Even the language has an abridgedappearance, and favours the idea, that the tragi cintrigue was to have been extended into a properheroic play, instead of occupying a spare corner in acomedy. But to make amends, the comic scenesare executed with spirit , and in a style resemblingthose in the Maiden Queen .

”1 They containedmuch witty and fashionable raillery and the character of Melantha is pronounced by Cibber toexhibit the most complete system of female fopperythat could possibly be crowded into the torturedform of a fine lady. It was admirably acted byhi mMonfort, afterwards Mrs Verbruggen . The

piece thus supported was eminently successful ; asfortunate circumstance for the King’s Company,

1 In one of Gibber’s moods of al teration , be combin ed the

comic scen es of these two p lays in to a comedy en t i tled, The

Comical Lovers.”


.who were then in distressful c ir cums tances . The irhouse in Drury- Lane had been destroyed by fire,after which disaster theywere compelled to occupythe old theatre in Lin coln’s - Inn Fields, lately deset ted by the rival company for a splendid on e in

Dorset Gardens. From a prologue which ourauthor fu rnished, to be spoken at the opening of

this house of refu ge, it would seem, that eventhe scenes and properties of the actors had beenfurn ished by the contribu tions of the nobilit y.

1

Perhaps their present redu ced situation was anadditional reason with Dryden for tu rning his

attention to comedy, whi ch required less splendourof exhibition and decoration than the heroic plays .

Marriage a- la-mode ” was inscribed to Wilmot, Earl of Rochester, in strains of adulation notvery honourable to the dedicator. But as heexpresses his gratitude for Rochester’s care, notonly of his reputat ion, but of his fortu ne ; for hissolicitude to overcome the fatal modesty of poets,which leads them to prefer want to importunityand, finally, for the good effects of his mediation inall his concern s at court ; it may be supposed somerecent benefit, perhaps an active share in procuringthe appointment of poet lau reat, had warmed theheart of the author towards the patron . Thededication was well received, and the complimenthandsomely acknowledged, as we learn by a lett er

1 You are changed too, and your pretence to seeIs bu t a noblcr name for charIty.

You r own prov isIOns fu rn Ish ou t ou r feasts,Whi le you, the founders,make you rselves the gu ests.”

D ryden’s Works, vol. x.

, p. 319.


with gay dialogue, nor with striking character the

play, accordingly, proved unsuccessful in the represen tation . Yet, although upon reading the A s

signat ion, we cannot greatlywonder at this failure,still , considering the plays which succeeded aboutthe same time, we may be disposed to admi t, thatthe weight of a party was thrown into the scaleagainst its reception. Buckingham, who shortlyafterwards published a revised edit ion of the Re

hearsal,” failed n ot to ridicule the absurd and coarse

trick, by which the enamoured prince prevents hisfather from discovering the domino of his mistress,which had been left in his apartment.‘ A nd Dryden’s rivals and enemies, now a numerous body.hailed, with malicious glee, an event which seemedto foretell the decay of his popularity.

The A ssignation” was published in 1673, andinscribed, by Dryden, to hismuch honoured friendS ir Charles Sedley. There are some acrimonious

l B ayes. I remember on ce, in a play of min e, I set off ascen e, i ’gad, beyon d expectation , on lywi th a petticoat an d thebelly- ach.

Smith. Pray, howwas that, sirB ayes. Why, sir, I con trived a petticoat to be brough t in

u pon a chair, (n obody kn ewhow,) in to a prin ce’ s chamber,

W hose father was n ot t o see i t, that came in by chan ce.John s. God ’s-my- l ife, that was a notable con trivance ia

d eed !Smitlz . A y, bu t, Mr Bayes, how could you con trive the

belly- ach ?

B ayes. The eas iest l theworld, i gad I’l l tel l you how; Imade th e prin ce sit down u pon the petticoat, n o more than8 0, and pretended t o h is father that he had j u st then got thebe lly- aah ; whereu pon h is father wen t to call a physician ,an d h isman ran away wi th the petticoat.”—Rehearsal.


passages in this dedication, referring to the controversies in which the author had been engagedand, obscure as these have become, it is the bio

grapher’

s duty to detail and illustrate them .

It cannot be supposed, that the authors of thetime saw with indifference Dryden’s rapid success,and the measures which he had taken, by his critical essays, to guide the public attention, and to fixit upon himself and the heroic plays, in which hefelt his full superiority. Bu t no writer of the timec ould hope to be listened to by the public, if hee ntered a claim of personal competition against apoet so celebrated. The defence of the ancientpoets afforded a less presumptuous and morefavourable pretext for taking the field, and for assailing Dryden’s wr itings, and avenging the slightnotice he had acco rded to his contemporaries, u nd er the colour of defending the ancients againsthis criticism. The Essay of Dramatic Poesy ”

afforded a pretence for commencing this sort of

warfare . In that piece, Dryden had pointed ou t

the faults of Shakspeare, Jonson, and Fletcher,with less ceremony than the height of their established reputation appeared to demand from a youngauthor. But the precedence whi ch he undauntedlyclaimed for the heroic drama, and, more generally,the superiority of the plays of Dryden’s own age,whether tragic or comic, over those of the earlierpart of the seventeenth century, was asserted, notonly distinctly, but irreverently, in the Epilogueto the Conquest of Granada


They, who have best su cceed ed on the stage,H ave still conform’

d their geni u s to the ir age.Thu s Jon son d idmechan ic humou r show,

When men were du ll, and con versation low.

Then comedy was fau ltless, bu t ’twas coarse

Cob’s tankard was a j est, an d O tter’s horse .

A n d, as their comed y, the ir lo ve wasmean ,Except, by chan ce, i n some on e labou r’d scen e,Wh ichmu st aton e for an i ll-wr i tten play,They rose, bu t at their he igh t could seldoms tay.Fame thenwas cheap, an d the first comer spedA n d they have kept i t sin ce, by be ing dead .

B u t , were they n owto wr i te, when cri t ics weighEach l in e, and everyword, throughou t a play,Non e of them, n o n ot Jon son in hi s height,Cou ld pass , wi thou t allowi ng grain s forweigh t.Th in k i t n ot envy, that these tru ths are told ;O ur poet's n otmal iciou s, though he’s bold .

’Tis not to brand them, that their faul ts are shown ,B u t, by th eir errors, to excu se his own .

If love and hon our noware h igher rai sed,’Tis n ot the poet, bu t the age i s praised.

W i t’s n owarr ived to amore h igh d egreeO ur n at ive langu agemore refin ed an d free.O ur lad ies an d our men n ow speak more witIn con versation , than those po ets wri t.Then , on e of these is, con sequ en tly, tru e ;That what this poe t wr ites comes short of you ,A n d imi tates you il l (whichmost he fears) ,Or else h is wri t ing i s not worse than th e irs .Yet, though you j udge (as sure the cri t ics will),That some before himwr i t wi th greater ski ll,In th is one praise he has their fame '

su rpast ,

To please an agemore gallan t than the las t .”

The dar ing doctrine laid down in these obnoxious lines, our author ventured to maintain, in whathe has termed a Defence of the Epilogue, or anE ssay on the Dramatic Poetry of the last age .31 )

It is subjoined to the “Conquest of Granada ;


and sprightly court, have learned, in their comed ies,a tone of light discourse and raillery, in which thesolidi ty of English sense is blended with the air

and gaiety of their French neighbours ; in short,that those who call Jonson’s the golden age of

poetry, have only this reason, that the audiencewere then content with acorns , becau se they knewnot the use of bread. In all this criticism therewas much undeniable truth ; but sufficient weightwas not gi ven to the excellences of the old school,while their faults were ostentatiously and invidiou sly enumerated. It would seem that Dryden,perhaps from the rigour of a pur itanical education,had not studied the ancient dramatic models in his

you th, and had only begun to read them with at

t ention when it was his object rather to depreciatethan to emulate them. But the time came whenhe did due homage to their genius .v Meanwhile, this avowed preference of his own

period excited the resentment of the older critics,who had locked up to the era of Shakspeare as the

g olden age of poet ry ; and no less that of the playwrights of his own standing,who pretended to disc over, that Dryden designed to establish less thereputation of his age, than of himself individually,'u pon the ruined fame of the ancient poets. Theycomplained, that, as the wild bull in the Vivarambla

‘

of Granada,mon arch - l ike he ranged the l isted field,

A n d some he trampled down, and some he kill’d .

Many, therefore, advancing under pretence of vindicating the fame of the ancients, gratified their


spleen by attacking that of Dryden, and strove lessto combat his crit icisms, than to criticise his produ ct ions. We shall have too frequ ent occasion toobserve, that there was, during the reign of CharlesII., a semi - barbarous virulence of controversy, evenupon abstract po ints of literature, which would ben ow thought injudicious and unfai r, even by then ewspaper advo cates of contending factions . A.

c ritic of that time never deemed he had so effec

t ually refuted the reasoning of his adversary, aswhen he had said something disrespectful of his

talents, person, or moral charac ter. Thu s, literaryc ontest was embitte red by pe rsonal hatred, andt ruth was so far from be ing the object of the combatan ts, that even victory was tasteless unlessobtained by the disgrace and degradation of the

antagonist. This reflection may serve to introdu cea short detail of the abu sive controversies in whichi t was Dryden’s lot to be engaged .

One of those, who most fiercely attacked our

author’s system and opinions,wasMatthewClifford,already mentioned as engaged in the Rehearsal.”

A t what precise time he began his Notes uponDryden’s Poems, in Four Letters, or how theywere originally published, is un certain . The lastof the letters is dated from the Charter - Ho u se,l st July, 1672, and is signed with his name : probably the others were written short ly before . Theonly edition now known was printed along withsome Reflections on the Hind and Panther, byanother Hand,

”

(Tom Brown ,) in 1 687 . If theseletters were not actually printed in 1672, theywere


probably successively mad e public by transcr iptshanded about in the coffeehouses, which was thenthe usual mode of circulating lampoons and piecesof satire. Although Clifford was esteemed a manof wit and a scholar, his style is rude, coarse, andu ngentlemanlike, and the criticism is chi efly verbal.In the note the reader may peru se an ample specimen of the kind of wit, or rather banter, employedby thi s facetious person.

1 The letters were written

To beg in wi th you r character of A lman z or,wh ich youavow to have taken from the A ch i lles in Homer ; pray hearwhat Famian u s Strada says of su ch talkers as Mr Dryden.Ridcre soleo, cumvideo homines ab Homcri virtu tibus strenué dcclinantes, si qu id vero irrep sit vitii, id avidearn

'

pientes. B u t Imight have spared th i s qu otation , and you your avowing ; forth is charactermigh t aswel l have been borrowed fromsome ofth e stalls in Bedl am, or any of you r own hare- brain ed cox

combs, wh ich you call heroes, an d person s of hon our . I remember ju st su ch an other fuming A ch il les in Shakspeare,

on e A n c ien t Pistol, whomhe avows to be aman of so fiery atemper, and so impatien t of an inj u ry, even fromSir JohnFalstaff, hi s captain an d a kn ight, that he n ot on ly d isobeyedh is comman ds abou t carrying a letter to Mrs Page, bu t retu rn ed himan an swer as fu l l of con tumely, and in as opprobr ion s terms, as he cou ld imagin e :

Le t vu ltu res gripe thy gu ts, for gou rd and fullamholds,A nd high and lowbegu i les the ri ch and poor.Tester I'll have in pou ch, when thou shalt lack,Base Phrygian Tu rk, ’ 8m.

L et’s see e’ er an A ben cerrago fly a h igh er pitch . Takehimat an other tu rn , qu arrell ing wi th Corporal Nym, an old

Zegri'The difl

'

eren ce arose abou tmin e hostess Qu ickly, (forI would n ot g ive a ru sh for aman u n less he be particular inmatters of th ismomen t ; ) they both aimed at her body, bu tA bencerrago Pistol defies hi s r ival in these words :

Fetch fromthe powdering tub of infamyThat lazar ki te of Cressid ’

s ki nd,


Friendly Vindi cation of Mr Dryden from theA uthor of the Cen sure of the Rota,

” was printedat Cambridge. A ll these appeared previous to thepublication of the A ssignation .

” The first, as

Wood informs u s, was written by Richard Leigh,educat ed at Queen’s College, Oxford, where heentered in 1 665, and was probably resident whenthis piece was there published. He was afterwards a player in the Duke’s Company, bu t mustbe carefully distinguished from the celebrated co

median of the same name. It seems likely that hewrote also the second tract, which is a continuationof the first . Both are in a frothy, flippan t style ofraillery, of which the reader will find a spec imenin the note 1 The Cambr idge Vindi cation seems

1 Amongst several other late ex erci ses of th e A thenianv irtu osi in the Coffee - acad emy, in sti tu ted by A pollo for theadvan cemen t of Gaz ette Phi losophy,Mercu ry’s D iurn al li, 8m.

t h is daywaswholly taken u p in the examin ation of the Con

qu est of Granada. ’ A gen tleman on the read ing of the FirstPart, an d there in the descript ion of the bu ll - bai ting, said, thatA lman z or’s playing at the bu ll was accord ing to the stan dardof the Greek heroes ,who, as Mr Dryden had learn edly ohserved (Essay of D ramat ic Poesy), were great beef- eaters.A n d why might n ot A lman z or as well as A j ax, or Don

Qu ixote, worrymu tton , or take a bu ll by the throat, sin cet he au thor had elsewhere explain ed h imself, by tell ing u s the

h eroes were more n oble beasts of prey, in his Epistle to hisConqu est of Gran ada,’ d i stingu i sh ing them in to wi ld an d

t ame ; and in h is playwe have A lman z or shaking h is chain s,and fr ightin g h i s keeper, broke loose, an d tearing those thatwou ld reclaimh is rage . To th i s he added, that h is bul lsexce lled o ther heroes, as far as h is own heroes su rpassed h isgod s ; that the champion hull was d iv es ted of flesh and blood,and made immortal by the poet, an d bellowed after death ;that the fan tastic bull seemed fi ercer than the tru e, and the


to have been written by a different hand, thoughin the same taste . It is singular in bringing acharge against our author, whi ch has been urgedby no other antagonist ; for he is there upbraidedwith exhibiting in his comedies the persons andfollies of living characters . 1

The friends and admirers of Dryden did not seewith indiiferen ce these attacks upon his reputation ;for he congratulates 2 himself upon having founddefenders even among strangers, alluding probablyto a tract by Mr Charles Blount, entitled, Mr

Dryden Vindicated, in answer to the FriendlyVindication of Mr Dryden, with Reflections on

the Rota.” This piece is written with all thehonest enthusiasm of youth in defence of that

dead bellowings in verse were lou der than th e l iv ing ; conc lu d ing with a W i sh, that Mr D ryden had the good lu ck tohave vari ed that old verse qu oted in h is D ramatic Essay :

A tqu e Ursum, et Pugi le: media inter cam ina p atcunt

Tamas, et Pug tle: p rzma in ter carmina poxco

and prefixed i t to the fron t of hi s play, in stead of

Maj or rerummibi nasci tur ordo,Maj us op usmoveo.

’

Censure of the Rota, p. 1 .l Bu t , however, if he were taken for n o good comic

poe t, or satiri st, he had fou n d a way of mu ch easier l icen se,(though more remarkable in the sen se of some,) wh ich was,n ot on ly to l ibelmen ’s person s, bu t to represen t themon th estage too : That to th is pu rpose he mad e h is observation s ofmen , theirwords and action s, wi th so l i t tle d i sgu i se, thatman y beheld themselves acted for their half~ crown yet, afterall , was u nwi lling to bel ieve, that th i s was n ot both goodcomedy, an d n o less good mann ers."—F riendly Vindica tion ofMr Dryden, p. 8 .

D ed ication to the Assign ation .


genius which has excited its admiration . In hisaddress to Sedley, Dryden notices these attacksupon him with a supreme degree of contempt .‘

In other respects the dedicat ion is drawn with theeasy indifference of on e accustomed to the bestsociety, towards the au thori ty of those who presumed to j udge of modern manners, withou thav ing access to see those of the higher c ircles .The pictur e which it draws of the elegan ce of theconv ivial parties of the wits in that gay time, hasbeen quoted a fewpages higher .I kn ownot if it be here worthwhile to mention

a petty warfare between Dryden and Edward Ra

Dryden ei th er confin es h imself to two pamphlets, or,

more probably, speaks of the three as wri tten by on ly twoau thors. L eigh i s, I presume, th e con temptible pedan t,”and the S ir Fastid iou s Br isk of Oxford . The Cambridgeau thor,who imi tated h is style, i s the Fu ngoso of the D ed icat ion A s for the errors they preten d to fi n d in me, I cou ldeasi ly show themthat the grea test part o f themar e beau t ies ;an d for the rest, I cou ld recrimin ate u pon the best poets ofou r n ation , if I cou ld resolve to accu se ano ther of l i ttle fau l ts,whomat the same t ime I admire for greater excel len ces. Bu t

I have n ei ther con cernmen t enough u pon me to wri te anyth ing in my own defen ce, n ei ther wi ll I gr atify th e ambi t ionof two wretched scribblers, who desire n othi ng more than to

be an swered . I have n ot wan ted friends, even amongststrangers,who have d efen ded memore strongly than my cont emp t ible pedan t could attack me ; for the o th er, he is on lyl ike Fungoso in the play,who fol lows the fash ion at a d i stan ce,an d adores th e Fastid iou s Bri sk of Oxford . You can bearme wi tn ess, that I have n ot con siderat ion en ough for ei ther ofthemto be angry let Maeviu s an d Baviu s admire each other ;I wi sh to be hated by theman d their fel lows, by the samereason for wh ich I desire to be loved by you .

”—D edzcation to

the Assignah'

on, vol. i v., p . 354.

138 u rn or JOHN DRYDEN.

croft’s play, which is a bald translation from the

Bou rgeois Gen ti lhomme”

of Moliere, was successfu l, chi efly owing to the burlesque processionof Turks employed to dub the c itizen a Mermamouchi, or Paladin. Dryden, with more indignation than the occasion warranted , retorted , in theprologue to the A ssignation,

” by the followingattack on Ravenscroft

’

s j argon and bufi’oonery

You mu st have Mamamou ch i, su ch a fopA s wou ld appear amon ster in a shop ;H e'll fil l your pi t and boxes to the br im,

.Where, ramm’

d in crowds, you see you rse lves in him.

Su re there’s some spell, ou r poet n ever kn ew,

In Hulltbabilah de, and Chu , elm, chu

Bu t hfarababah sali ent most d id tou ch youThat is, Oh howwe love the Mamamou chi !Grimace an d habi t sen t you pleased awayYou dama’

d the poet, an d cried u p the play .

A bout thi s time, too, the actresses in the King’s

theatre, to vary the amu sements of the house,represented Marriage a- la-Mode in men’sdresses. The Prologu e and Epilogue were furn ished by Dryden ; and in the latter, mentioningthe proj ected union of the theatres,

all th e women most devou tly swear,Each wou ld be rather a poor actress here,Than to bemade a Mamamou ch i there.”

Ravenscroft, thus satirized, did not fail to exultin the had su ccess of the A ssign ation,

” and celebrated his triumph in some lines of a Prologu e tothe Careless Lovers,

” whi ch was acted in the

A ddie i s a simi lar character, in a play cal led Sir Solomon ,or The Cou rteous Coxcom attribu ted to on e John Caryll. j


vacation succeeding the ill fate of Dryden’s play.

They are thrown into the note, that the reader mayjudge how very unworthy thi s scribbler was of theslightest notice from the pen of Dryden.

l A nd

wi th this Te D eum, on the part of Ravenscroft,ended a petty controversy,which gives himhis onlytitle to be named in the life of an English classic.From what has been detaile d of these disputes

we may learn, that, even at this period, the lau reat’s

wreath was not unmingled with thorns ; and that ifDryden still maintained his due ascendency overthe common band of authors, it was not withoutbe ing occas ionally under the necessity of descending into the arena against very inferior antagonists .In the course of these controversies, Dryden

was not idle, though he cannot be said to havebeen worthily or fort unately employed ; his musebeing lent to the court, who were at this timeanxious to awake the popular indignation againstthe Dutch. It is a charac teristic of the Englishn ation, that their habitual dislike against theirneighbours is soon and easily blown into animosity.

l An au thor did, to p lease you ,let hiswit run ,

Of latemu ch on a servmgman and citternAnd yet, you wou ld not like the serenade,Nay, and you damn ’

d his n u ns i nmasqu erade ;You di d h i s Span i sh S ing- song too abhor ;Ah que looma con tan to r igor !

In fine, thewhole by you somu ch was blamed,To act their parts, the playerswere ashamed .

Ah, howsevere you rmalice was that day !To damn , at once, the poet and h is playBu t whywas your rage ju st at that time shown ,When what the au thorwri twas all hi s OwnTi ll then, he borrow‘

d fromromance, and d id translateAnd those plays fou nd amore indu lgen t fate.”


But, although Dryden chose for his theme thehorrid massacre of Amboyn a, and fell to the taskwith such zeal, that he accomplished it in a month,his play was probably of little service to the causein which it was written. The story is too disgu sting to produce the legitimate feelings of pity andterror, which tragedy should ex cite : the blackhole of Calcutta would be as pleasing a subject.The character of the Hollanders, as there repre

sented, is too grossly v1c10u s and detestable to givethe least pleasu re . They are neither men, nor

even devils but a sort of lubbar fiends, compounded of cru elty, avarice, and bru tal debau chery, likeDutch swabbers possessed by demons . But of

this play the au thor has himself admitted, that thesu bject is barren, the persons low, and the writingn ot heightened by any laboured scenes : and, W ithou t attempting to contradict this modest description, we may dismiss the tragedy of Amboyna.

”

It was dedicated to Lord Clifford of Chudleigh,an active member of the Cabal administration of

Charles I I . bu t who, as a catholic, on the testact being passed, resigned his post of lord hightreasurer, and died shortly afterwards . There is

gr eat reason to think, that this nobleman hadessentially favoured Dryden’s views in life. On

a former occasion, he had termed Lord Clifford abetter Maecenas than the friend of Horace ; 1 and,

Formy own part, I,who amthe least among the poets,have yet the fortu n e to be hon ou red wi th the best p atron, andthe best frien d ; for (to omi t some great person s of our cou rt,towhomI amma ny ways oblige d, and have taken care ofme


obnoxious for his share in the usu rped governmentthe turn of the language, so different from that ofthe age ; the seriousness of a subject, so dis co rdantwith its lively frivolities—gave to the author’srenown the slowness of growth with the perman ency of the oak. Milton’s merit, however, had

.not es caped the eye of Dryden.

l He was ao

quainted with the author, perhaps even before theRestoration ; and who can doubt Dryden’s powerof feeling the sublimity of the Paradise Lost,

”

even had he himself not assured us, in the prefatory essay to his own piece, that he accounts itundoubtedly, one of the greatest, most noble,

and most sublime poems, whi ch either this age ornation has produced ?” We are, therefore, toseek for the motive which could have induced him,holding this Opinion, to gild pure gold, and set a

p erfume on the violet. Dennis has left a curiousrecord upon this subject Dryden,

”he observes,in his Preface before the State of Innocence,

’

.appears to have been the first, those gentlemenexcepted whose verses are before Milton’s poem,

who discovered i n so publi c a manner an extraor

dinary opinion of Milton’s extraordinary merit.

1 The elder R ichardson has told a story, that Lord Buckhu rst, afterward s Earl of Dorset,was the firstwho in trodu cedthe Parad ise L ost,” then lying l ikewaste paper in th e bookiseller

’

s hand s, t o th e n ot ice of Dryd en . Bu t th is t rad i tion'has been ju stly exploded byMr Malon e .—s e q 1yden, vol.

i ., p . 1 14. In deed, i t i s by n o means l ikely, that Drydenc ou ld be a stranger to the very existen ce of a large poem,

wr i t ten by a man of su ch pol i t ical as well as l i terary emin ence, even if he had n ot happen ed, aswas the case, to beperson ally known to the au thor.


A nd yet Mr Dryden at that time knew not halfthe extent of his excellence, as more than twen ty

years afterwards he confessed to me, and is prettyplain from his writing the State of Innocence.’

Had he known the full extent of Milton’s excellence, Dennis thou ght he would not have ven t in'

ed

on thi s undertaking, unless he designe d to be a foilto him “but they,

” he adds, “'who knew Mr

Dryden, knew Very well, that he was not of a temper to design to be a foil to any one .

” 1 We

therefore to conclude, that it was only the hope ofexcelli ng his original, admi rable as he allowed it tobe

,whi ch impelled Dryden upon this un profitable

and abortive labour ; an d we are to examine theimprovements whi ch Dryden seemed to meditate,or, in otherwords, the differences between his tasteand that Of Milton.

A nd first we may observe, that the difl'

eren ce intheir situations affected their habits of thinkingu pon poetical subjects . Milt on had retired intosolitude, if not into obscurity, relieved from everything like external agency either influencing hischo ice of a subject, or his mode of treating it ;and, in consequence, instead of looking abroad toconsult the opinion of his age, he appealed only tothe judge whi ch Heaven had implantedwithin him,

when he was endowed with severity of judgment,and profusion of genius . But the taste of Drydenwas not so in dependent. Placed by his very officeat the head of what was fashionable in lit erature,

1 B enn i s‘s Letters, qu oted byMalone.


he had to write for those around him, rather thanfor posterity was to support a brilliant repu tationin the eye of theworld and is often found boastingof his intimacy with those who led the taste of theage, and frequently quot ing the

tamen meCummagn is vixisse, invitafa tebitur usqueInvidia .

”

It followed, that Dryden could not struggle againstthe tide into which he was lau nched, and that,although it might be expected from his talents thathe should ameliorate the reigning taste, or at leas tcarry those composit ionswhich it approved, to theirutmost pitch of perfection, it could not be hopedthat he should altogether escape being perverted byit, or should soar so superior to all its prejudices,as at once to admit the supereminent excellence ofa poem, which ran counter to these in so manyparticulars .The versificat ion ofMilton,according to the taste

of the times,was ignoble, from its supposed facility.

Dryden was,we have seen, so much possessed withthis prejudice, as to pronounce blank verse unfiteven for a fugitive paper of poetry. Even in hislater and riper judgment, he affirms, that, whateverpretext Milton might allege for the use of blankverse, his own part icular reason is plainly this,that rhyme was not hi s talent he had neither theease of do ing it, nor the graces of it : which ismanifest in his Juven ilia,

’ or verses written in his

youth, where his rhyme is always constrained andforced, and comes hardly from him, at an age when


as he terms Sir George Mackenzie, the issue ofwhich, in his apprehension, pointed ou t fartherroom for improving u pon the epic of Milton . Thi swas an enqu iry into the turn of words andthoughts requ isite in heroic poetry. Theseturns,

” according to the defini tion and exampleswhich Dryden has given u s, differ from the pointsofwi t, and quirks of epigram, common in the metaphysical poet s, and consist in a happy, and at thesame time a natu ral recurrence of the same form of

expression, melodiously var ied . Having failed inhis search after these beau ties in Cowley, the darling of his youth, I consulted,

” says Dryden, agreater genius , (without offence to the manes of

that noble author,) I mean—Milton but as heendeavou rs everywhere to express Homer, whoseage had not arrived to that fineness, I found in hima tru e sublimity, lofty thoughts,whi chwere clothedwith admirable Grecisms, and ancientwords,whichhe had been digging from the mines of Chau cerand Spenser, and which, with all their rusticity,had somewhat of venerable in them . Bu t I foundn ot there neither that for which I looked. Thisj udgment A ddison has proved to be erroneous, byquoting from Milton the most beautiful example ofa turn of words which can be found in Englishpoetry.

1 But Dryden, holding it for just, conceived,l W ith thee conversing, Iforget all time,A ll seasons, and their change ; all please alikeSweet is the bmth ofmom, her rising sweet,W ith charmof earli est birds : pleasan t the sun ,When first on thi s delightfu l land he spreadsHis orien t beams, on herb, tree, fru it, and flower,Glist

’

rmgwith dew fragran t the ferti le earth


doubtless, that, in his State of Innocence,” he

might exert his skill successfully, by supplying thesupposed

'

deficiency, and for relieving those‘9 flats

of thought ”which he complains of, where Milton,for a hundred lines together, runs on in a trackof Scripture but which Dennis more justlyascribes to the humble nature of his subject in thosepassages . The graces, also, whi ch Dryden ventu red to interweavewith the lofty theme ofMilton,were rather those of Ov id than of Virgil, rathert u rns of verbal expression than of thought. Suchis that conceit which met with censu re at the time :

S eraph and cherub, carel ess of their charge,A n d wan ton , in fu l l ease n ow l ive at large ;Ungu arded leave the passes of the sky,A n d al l d i ssolved in hall eluj ahs l ie . ”

I have heard,” said a petulant critic, of ancho

vies dissolved in sauce ; but never of an angel

A fter soft show’rs. and sweet the coming on

Of gratefu l even ingmi ld : then silen t n ight,W ith th is her solemn bird, and this fairmoon ,

And these the gems ofheaven , her starry trainB u t neither breath ofmorn ,when she ascendsWi th charmof earliest bi rds : n or rising sunOn this delightfu l land ; nor herb, fru i t, flower,G li st

‘

ringwnth dew; nor fragrance after show’rs ;

Nor gratefu l even ingmi ld ; nor S i len tmgh t ,W i th this her solemn bird ; norwalk bymoon ;Or glist

’

rmg stan hght, wi thou t thee is sweetThe variety of images in th is passage is in fin i tely pleasing,

an d the recapitu lation of each particu lar image, wi th a l i ttlevarying of the expression , makes on e of the fin es t tu rn s ofwords that I have ever seen wh ich I rathermen tion , becau seMr Dryden has said, in his Preface to Juven al, that he cou ldmeetwi th no turn of words in M ilton .

”—Tatler, Nos. 1 14,1 15.


di ssolved in hallelujahs .

” But this raillery Drydenrebufi

'

s with a quotation from VirgilInvadzmt urban, somno vinoque sepultam.

”

It might have been replied, that Virgil’s analogy

was familiar and simple, and that of Dryden wasfar- fetched, and startling by its novelty.

The majesty of Milton’s verse is strangely degraded in the following speeches, which precedethe rising of Pandzemonium. Some of the coupletsare utterly flat and bald, and, in others, the balanceof point and antithesis is substituted for the simplesublimity of the original

Moloch. Changed as we are,we’re yet fromhomage free ;We have, by he ll, at least gain ’

d l iberty :That’s worth our fall thu s low though we are driven,Better to rul e in hell, than serve in heaven .

L aafer. There spoke the better half of Lu ciferA smoday.

'

Tis fi t in frequ en t sen ate we con fer,A n d then determin e how to steer ou r cou rse ;To wage n ewwar by frau d, or open force .

The doom’s n owpast, su bmi ss ion were in vain .

Mol. An d were i t n ot, su ch basen ess I d isdain ;I wou ld n ot stoop, to pu rchase all above,.A n d shou ld con temn a power, whomprayer couldmove,A s one u nworthy to have conquer

’

d me.

Beehebub. Moloch , in that al l are resolved, l ike thee.Themean s are u n proposed bu t ’t is no t fi tO u r dark d ivan in pu bl ic view shou ld si t ;Orwhat we p lot again st the Thu n derer,The ignoble crowd of vu lgar d evi ls h ear.L u czf. A golden palace let be raised on h igh ;

To imi tate No, to ou tsh in e the skyAllmin es are ours, an d gold above the restLet this be don e ; and qu ick as ’twas exprest .

”

I fan cy the reader is now nearly satisfied with


a single month. The critics having assailed thepoem even before publi cat ion, the author has prefixed an

“Essay upon Heroic Poetry and PoeticL icence ; in which he treats chiefly of the use ofmetaphors, and of the legitimacy of machinery.

The Dedicat ion of the State of Innocence,addressed to Mary of Este, Du chess of York, is asingular specimen of what has been since termedthe celestial style of inscription. It is a strain of

flattery in the language of adoration and the elevated stat ion of the princess is declared so suited toher excellence, that Providence has only done justice to its own works in placing the most perfectwork of heaven where it may be admired by all

beholders . Even this flight is surpassed by thefollowing

Tis tru e, you are above al l mortal wi shes n o man de

s ires impossibil i ties, becau se they are beyon d the reach of

n atu re . To hope to be a god, i s folly exal ted in to madn ess ;bu t, by the laws of ou r creation , we are obl iged to adore him,

and are permi tted to love himtoo at human d i stan ce . ’Tis

the n atu re of perfect ion to be attractive : bu t the excel len cyof the obj ect refin es the n ature of the love. I t strikes an impression of awfu l reveren ce ; ’t i s in deed that love wh ich i smore properly a z eal than passion .

"l‘

is the raptu re wh ichan chori tes find in prayer,when a beamof the d iv in i ty sh in esu pon them; that wh ich makes themdespise al l world ly ohj ects ; an d yet ’t i s all bu t con templat ion . They are seldomv isi ted fromabove ; bu t a single v ision so tran sports them,

that i t makes u p the happin ess of their l i ves. lVIortalitycan n ot bear i t often : i t fin d s themin the eagern ess an d heigh tof their devotion ; they are speech less for the t ime that i t cont inu es, and prostrate and dead when i t departs.”

Such eulogy was the taste of the days of Charles,when ladies were deified in dedications, and painted


as Venus or Diana upon canvass . In our time, theelegance of the language would be scarcely held tocounterbalance the absurdity of the compliments .Lee, the dramatic wr iter, an excellent poet,

though unfortunate in his health and cir cumstances, evinced his friendship for Dryden, ratherthan his judgment, by prefixing to the State of

Innocence a copy of verses, in which he compliments the author with hav ing refined the ore ofMilton. Dryden repaid this favour by an epistle,in whi ch he beau tifully apologizes for the extravagances of his friend’s poetry, and consoles him forthe censure of those cold judges, whose blamebecame praise when they accused . the warmthwhi ch they were incapable of feeling.

1

Having thus brought the account of our author’sprodu ctions down to 1674, fromwhich period wedate a perceptible change in his taste and mode ofcomposition, I have only to add, that his privatesituation was probably altered to the worse, by theburning of the King’s theatre, and the debts contracted in rebuilding it . The valu e of his share inthat company mu st consequ ently have fall en farshort ofwhat itwas originally. In other respects,he was probably nearly in the same condition as in1 672. The crit ics, who assailed his literary reputation , had hitherto spared hi s private character ;and, excepting Rochester,whosemalignity towardsDryden nowbegan to display itself, he probably

1 See th i s Epistle, Dryden ’s Works, vol. x i. , p . 22 . I twasprefixed to A lexan der the Great a play

,the mer its an d

faul ts ofwh ich are both in extreme .


had not lost one person whom he had thoughtworthy to be called a friend . Lee, who seemsfir st to have distinguished himself about 1672,wasprobably then added to the number ofhis intimates.Milt on died shortly before the publi cation of theState of Innocence and we may wish in vain

to know his opinion of that piece but if tradi tioncan be trusted, he said, perhaps on that un dertaking, that Dryden was a good rhymer, but n o poet.Blount, who had signalized himself in Dryden

’sdefence, was now added to the n umber of his

friends. This gentleman dedicated his Relz'

gio

L aicz’

to Dryden in 1683, as hi s much- honou redfriend and the poet speaks of himwi th kindnessand respect in 1696, three years aft er his unfortun ate and violent catastrophe.Dryden was, however, soon to experience the

mutability of the friendship of wits an d courtiers.A period was speedily approaching, when the

violence of political faction was to effect a breachbetween our author and many of those with whomhe was now intimately connected indeed, he wasalready entangled in the quarrels of the great, andsustained a severe personal outrage, in consequenceof a quarrel with whi ch he had little individualconcern.


Dryden . It is impossible to detail the progress ofthe contest for public favour between these twoill -matched rivals,without not icing at the same timeDryden’s quarrel with Rochester, who appears tohave played ofl

'

Settle in opposition to him, asabsolu tely, and nearly as su ccessfully, as Settleever played off the literal puppets, for which, inthe ebb of his fortu ne, he wrote dramas .In the year 1673, Dryden and Rochester were on

su ch friendly terms, that our poet inscribed to hislordship his favourite play of Marriage a- la

Mode ; notwithou t acknowledgment of the deepestgrat itude for favour s done to his fortune and reputat ion . The dedication, we have seen, was so

favourably accepted by Rochester,‘

that the reception called forth a second tribu te of thanks fromthe poet to the patron . But at this point, theinterchange of kindness and of civili ty received asudden and irrecoverable check. This was partlyowi ng to Rochester’s fickle an d j ealou s temper,which induced him alternately to raise and depressthe men of parts whom he loved to patronise ; so

that no one should ever become independent ofhisfavour , or so rooted in the publi c opinion, as to bebeyond the reach of his satire ; but it may also inpart be attributed to Dryden’s attachment to Sheffield, Earl of Mulgrave, afterwards Duke of Bu ckingham, then Rochester

’s rival in wit and courtfavour, and from whom he had sustained a deadlyafl’ront , on an occasion, which, as the remote causeof a curious incident in Dryden’s life, I have else


where detailed in the words of Sheffi eld himself. 1

Rochester,who was branded as a coward in con

N0 on e could knowthe coward ice of Lord Rochester sowel l as Mu lgrave, who, in h i sMemoirs, records the followingin famou s in stan ce of i t. He had heard i t reported, that LordRochester had said someth ing of himvery mal ic iou s Itherefore sen t Colon el A ston , a verymettled friend of min e,to cal l him to accou n t for i t. He den ied the words ; and,

in deed, I was soon con vin ced he had n ever said them; bu tthemere report, thou gh I foun d i t to be false, obl iged me (asI then fool i sh ly thought) to go on wi th the qu arrel ; an d then ext daywas appo in ted for u s to fight on horseback, away inEnglan d a l i ttle u n u su al, bu t i twas his part to choose . A ccordingly, I an d my secon d lay the n ight before at Kn ightsbr idge,privately, to avoid the being secu red at L ondon u pon any

su spic ion ; which yet we fou nd ou rselves more in danger of

there, becau sewe had al l the appearan ce of h ighwaymen , thathad amin d to l i e skul king in an odd in n for on e n ight ; bu tth i s, I suppose, the people of that hou se were u sed to, and so

took n o n otice of u s, bu t l iked u s the better . In the morn ingwe met the L ord Rochester at the place appo in ted, who,in stead of James Porter, whom, he assu red A ston , he wouldmake h i s secon d , brought an erran t lifeguard .man , whomn obody kn ew. To th is Mr A ston took exception , u pon theaccou n t of his being n o su itable adversary ; especially cou sid ering howextremely wel l hewasmou n ted, whereaswe hadon ly a couple of pad s . Upon wh ich, we all ag reed to fight onfoot. Bu t, asmy L ord Rochester and I were rid ing in to then ext fi eld , in order to i t, he told me, that he had at fi rstchosen to figh t on horseback, becau se he was so weak wi th ad i stemper that he fou n d himself u nfit to figh t at all in anyway,mu ch less a—foot. I was extremely su rpr ised, becau se, at thatt ime, n oman had a better repu tation for cou ra g e ; an d (myan ger ag ain st himbeing qu i te over, becau se Iwas sati sfied thathe n ever spoke those words I resen ted) I took the l iberty ofrepresen t ing, what a r id icu lou s story i t wou ld make if wereturn ed withou t fighting ; an d therefore advised him, for

both our sakes, especial ly for his own , to con sider better of i ts in ce I mu st be obl iged, in my own defen ce, to lay the fau lt onhim, by te ll ing the tru th of thematter. His an swerwas, that


sequence of this transaction, must be reasonablysupposed to entertain a sincere hatred against Mul

grave ; with whom he had once lived on suchfriendly terms, as to inscribe to himan Epistle ontheir mutual poems . But, as his nerves had provedu nequal to a personal conflict with his brother peer,his malice prompted the discharge of his spleenupon those men of literature whom his antagonistcherished and patronised . Among these Drydenheld a distinguished situat ion ; for, about 1675, hewas, as we shall presently see, sufliciently in Sheffield

’

s confidence to correct and revise that nobleman’s poetry ; 1 and in 1676 dedi cated to himthe

he submitted to i t ; and hoped , that I would n ot desire theadvan tage of having to do wi th anyman in so weak a condit ion . I repl ied

,that by su ch eu argumen t, he had sumcien tly

ti ed my hands, u pon con d i tion Imight cal l our secon ds to bewi tn esses of the whole bu s in ess ; wh ich he con sen ted to, andso we parted . When we retu rn ed to Lon don , we fou n d i tfull of th is qu arrel, u pon our being absen t so long ; an d th ere .

fore Mr As ton thought h imself obl iged towr i te down everyword and circumstance of th i s whole matter, in order tospread everywhere the tru e reason of our retu rn ingwi thou thaving fought wh ich be ing n ever in the least either con trad icted or resen ted by the Lord Rochester, en t irely ru in ed hisrepu tat ion as to cou rage, (ofwh ich Iwas really sorry to be theoccasion ,) though nobod y had st il l a greater as towit whichsupported himpretty well in the world, n otwi th stan dingsomemore acc iden ts of the same k in d, that n ever fai l to su c

ceed on e an other when on ce people knowaman ’sweakness.

’

—Memoirs of Shefi ield, Duke of Buckingham.

Consciou s of hi s infamy, Rochester only ven tu red to replyto Sheffi eld , the real au thor of the above satire, by some coldsn eers on h is exped it ion to Tangi ers,whi ch occu r in the poemcalled Rochester’s —See Dryden

’

s‘ Worksh vol.

xv. ,p. 215.

Malon e, vol. i., p. 124.


Thi s playwright, whom the jealous Spleen of afavourite cou rtier, and the misjudging taste of apromiscu ous audience, placed for some time in sohigh a station, came into notice in 1 671 , on therepresentation of his first play, Cambyses, Kingof Persia,

” whi ch was played six nights successively. This run of public favour gave Rochestersome pretence to bring Settle to the notice of theKing ; and, through the efforts of this mischievouswi t, joined to the natural disposit ion of the peopleto be carried by show, rant, and tumult, Settle

’ssecond play, the Empress ofMorocco, was actedwith unanimous and overpowering applause for amonth together . To add to Dryden’smort ificat ion ,Rochester had interest enough to have this tragedyof one whom he had elevated into the rank of his

rival, first acted at Whitehall by the lords and

an d the first that ever was prin ted wi th cu ts . The booksellers at that t ime of day had n o t d iscovered somu ch of th eweakn ess of their gen tle readers as they have don e since, n orso plain ly d i scovered that fool s, l ike chi ldren , are to be drawnin by gewgaws . Well, bu t what was the even t of thi s greatsu ccess ? Mr Settle began to grow in solen t, as any on e maysee, who read s the epistle ded icatory to The Empress ofMorocco.

’ Mr Dryden , Mr Shadwel l, an d Mr Crown e,began to grow j ealou s ; an d they three in con federacywroteRemarks on the Empress ofMorocco .

’ Mr Settle an sweredthem; an d, accord ing to the Opin ion wh ich the town thenhad of thematter, (for I have u tterly forgot the con troversy,)had bymu ch the better of themall . In short, Mr Settlewasthen a formidable rival to Mr Dryden ; and I remember verywell, that n ot on ly the town , bu t the u n iversi ty of Cambridge,was very mu ch d ivided in their opin ion s abou t the preferen ce that ought to be g iven to them; a nd in both places theyounger fry incl in ed to Elkanah .

”

L IFE o r JOHN DRYDEN. 159

ladies of the court ; an honour which had neverbeen paid to any Of Dryden’s compositions, however more justly entitled to it, both from intrinsicmerit, and by the au thor

’s situ ation as poet laureat.Rochester contributed a prologue upon this brilliant occasion, to add st ill more grace to Settle

’striumph ; but what seems yet more extraordinary,and has , I think, been unnoticed in all accounts ofthe controversy, Mulgrave,

l Rochester’s rival , andthe friend of Dryden, did the same homage to theEmpress of Morocco .

” From the King’ s private

theatre, the Empress of Morocco ” was transferred, in all its honours, to the public stag e inDorset Garden, and received with applause corresponding to the expectat ion excited by its favourat Whitehall. While the court and city werethus worshipping the idol which Rochester hadset up, it could hardly be expected of poor Settle,that he should be first to discern his own want ofdesert. On the contrary, he grewpresumptu ou son success and when he printed his performance,the dedication to the Earl ofNorwich was directly levelled against the poet laureat, who termed itthe most arrogant, calumniatory, ill-mannered,andsenseless preface he ever saw.

” 2 A nd, to add gall

1 Lord Mulgrave wrote the prologu e when Settle‘s playwas first acted at cou rt ; Lord Rochester’s was wri t ten fo r

the secon d occasion ; both were spoken by the beau tifu l L adyEl iz abeth Howard .

3 See th is offen sive ded ication in the accou n t of Settle’s cont roversy wi th Dryden , in D ryden ’sWorks, vol. xv .

, p. 898.

[A spectacle, foun ded on L al la Rookh , having been performedat the Cou rt of Berl in in 1821, Lord Byron thu s wr i tes to


to bitterness, the bookseller thought the Empressof Morocco” worthy of being decorated with en

gravings, and sold at the advanced price of twoshillings being the first drama advanced to suchhonourable distinction.

‘ Moreover, the play isostentatiou sly stated in the title to be written byElkanah Settle, S ervan t to hisMaj esty

2 an addit ion which the laureat had assumed with greaterpropriety.

If we are asked the merit of a performancewhich made such an impression at the time, wemay borrow an expression applied to a certainorator,3 and say, that the “Empress of Morocco”

must have acted to the tune of a good heroic play.

It had all the outward and visible requisites of

splendid scenery, prisons, palaces, fleets, combats

Mr Moore You r Berlin drama i s an honour, u nknownsin ce the days of Elkan ah Settle, whose Empress of Mo

rocco ’ was represen ted by the Cou rt lad ies, wh ich was, asJohnson says, the last blas t of in flammation ’

to poor Dryden ,

who could n ot bear i t, and fel l fou l of Settle wi thou tmercyormoderation on accou n t of that an d a fron t ispiece,wh ich hed ared to pu t before h is play.

—Bvaox, vol. v . , p .

l A copy of th is rare ed i tion (the g ift ofmy learn ed fri en d,the Rev. H enry \ Vh ite of L ichfield) i s n owbeforeme. The

engravingsare su flicien tly pal try ; an d had the play been published even in the presen t day, i t wou ld have been accou n tedd ear at two sh ill ings. The name of the publisher i s Wil li amCademan , the date 1673. T hi s play I had afterward s thep leasu re to give tomy friend, Mr John Kemble,who had n ot

met that copy, even in his exten sive research after dramaticrar i ti es.

9 Thi s t i tle is omi t ted in su bsequ en t ed i t ion s.3 Ofwhomit was said, that he spoke, to the tu n e of a

good speech.”


The clou ds d ishevell'd, fromtheir crusted locks,Someth ing l ike gems co in ’

d ou t of crystal rock s.The grou nd was wi th th is strange brigh t issu e spread,A s if heaven in affron t to n atu re hadDesign

'

d some n ew- fou nd t il lage of i ts own ,A n d on the earth these u nkn own seeds had sown .

Of these I reach’d a grain , wh ich to my sen seA ppear

‘

d as coo l as v irg in - in n ocen ceAn d l ike that too , (wh ich ch iefly I admired ,)Its rav ish’

d wh iten ess wi th a tou ch exp ir ed.

A t the approach of heat, th is cand ied rainD i sso lved to i ts first elemen t again .

Muley H. Though showers of hai l Morocco n ever see,Du ll priest, what does all th is porten d tomeHam. I t does porten dMu ley . What ?Ham. That the fates d esignMu ley. To t ireme wi th impert in en ce l ike th in e.

Such were the strains once preferred to themagnificent verses of Dryden ; whose very worstbombast is sublimity compared to them. To provewhich, the reader need only peruse the Indian’saccou nt of the Spanish fleet in the Indian Em

peror,”to which the above lines are a parallel ; 1

each being the description of an object familiar to

l Mon tez uma. Isen t thee to the fron tiers ; qu ickly tellThe cause of thy retu rn are all thingswellGuyomar . Iwen t, in ord er, sir, to your command ,

To v iewthe u tmost lim1ts of the landTo that sea shorewhere nomoreworld is found ,Bu t foaming bi llows breaking on the groundWhere, for awhile,my eyes no objectmet,Bu t di stant skies, that in the ocean set ;A nd low-hung clouds, that d ipt themselves in rain ,To shake their fleeces on the earth again .

A t last, as far as I cou ld castmy eyesUpon the sea, somewhat,methought, d id rise,L ike blueishmists, which , sti ll appearingmore,Took dreadfu l shapes, andmoved towards the shore.Mon t. What forms di d these newwonders representGuy. More strange than what yourwonder can invent.


the audience, but n ewto the describer. The poetfelt the disgraceful preference mo re deeply than

altogether becoming ; but he had levelled hispowers, says Johnson,when he levelled his desiresto those of Settle, and placed his happiness in theclaps of multitudes . The moral may be carriedyet farther ; for had n ot Dryden stooped to call tothe aid of his poetry the auxiliaries of scenery,gilded truncheons, and verse of more noise thanmeaning, it is impossible his plays could have beendrawn into comparison with tho se of Settle. Butthe meretricious ornaments which he himself hadintrodu ced were Within the reach of the meanestcapacity ; and, having been among the first todebauch the taste of the pu bli c, it was retributivejustice that he should experience their inconstancy.

Indeed Dryden seems himself to admit, that the

The object, Icould first distinctly Vi ew,Was tall straight trees,which on thewaters flew;Wi ngs on their sides, i nstead of leaves, did grow,

Whi ch gathered all the breath the Winds cou ld blow;A nd at their roo ts grewfloati ng palaces,Whose ou tblowed belli es cu t the yieldi ng seas.Mon t . What di vinemonsters, 0 ye Gods,were these,

T hat float i n air, and fly u pon the seasC ame they alive or dead upon the shoreG uy . A las, they lived too su re ; Iheard themroar.

A ll tu ru '

d their sides, and to each other spoke ;I sawtheirwords break ou t i n fire and smoke.Su re ’

ti s thei r voice that thu nders fromon high,Or these the younger bro thers of the sky.Deaf Wi th the ne ise, Itookmy hasty fli ght ;Nomortal courage can support the fright.H igh Pri est. O ld propheci es foretel ou r fall at hand ,When beardedmen in floating castles land.1 fear it is of d i re porten t.Mont . Go see

What it foreshows, andwhat the Gods decree.”Dryden? Works, vol. ii ., p .


principal difference between his heroic plays andThe Empress ofMorocco,

”was, that the formerwere good sense, that looked like nonsense, andthe latter nonsense, which yet looked very likesense. A nice dist inct ion, and which argued someregret at having opened the way to such a rival.The feelings of contempt ought to have sup

pressed those . of anger ; but Dryden, who .

pro

fessedly li ved to please his . own age, had n ot

temper to wait till time should do him ju st ice.A ngry he was ; and unfortunately he determinedto show the world that he did well in being so.

W ith this view, in conjunction with Shadwell andCrowne, two brother - dramatists, equally jealou sof Settle’s success, he composed a pamphlet , entitled, Remarks u pon the Empress of Morocco .

”

This piece is written in the same tone of boisterousand vulgar raillery with which Clifford and Leighhad assailed Dryden himself ; and little resemblesour poet’s general style of cont roversy. He seemsto have exchanged his satir ical scourge for theclumsy flail of Shadwell, when he stooped to usesuch raillery as the following descript ion of SettleIn short , he is an animal of a most deplored

understanding, without reading and conversationhis being is in a twilight of sense, and some glimmering of thought , which he can never fashioneither into wit or English. His style is boisterous and rough - hewn ; his rhyme incorrigiblylewd, and his numbers perpetually harsh and illsounding.

Settle, nothing dismayed with this vehement

1 66 LI FE o r JOHN DRYDEN.

any kind. Bu t the splendour of the scenery anddresses, the quali ty of the performers, selected fromthe first nobility, and the favour of the sovereign,gave Calisto ” a run of nearly thirty nights.Dryden, though mortified, tendered his serv icesin the shape of an epilogue, to be spoken by LadyHenrietta Maria Wen tworth.

l Bu t the influenceof his enemy, Rochester, was still predominant ,and the epilogue of the laureat was rej ected .

The author of Calisto ” also lost his creditwithRochester, as soon as he became generally popular ;and shortly after the representation of that piece,its fickle patron seems to have recommended tothe royal protection, a rival more formidable toDryden than either Settle or star ch JohnnyCrown e .

”2 This was no other than Otway, whoseDon Carlos” appeared in 1676, and was hailedas one of the best heroic plays which had been

Crown e, (the r id icu lou s ri val of Dryden ,) an d i s said to havebeen acted wit h applau se abou t the year 1677. I t does n otappear that i t ever fel l in to Mr Milman ’s hand s ; n or, indeed ,if i t had , cou ld he h ave tu rned i t to any advan tage. Bo thp arts are taken , in somemeasu re, fromthe n arrat ive of Josephu s, bu t absu rd lymixed u p in the fash ion of th e daywithCou rt in trigu e an d party po l i tics. They are, however, amongthe best of Crown e’s dramas, and the first part i s n ot wi thou t

Quarterly Review(ofMi lman’s Fall of Jeru salemo

’

)

John Crown, an Amer ican ,was the son of an Independentmin is ter in Nova Scot ia, and au thor of abou t fifteen dramaticp i eces . He d ied abou t the beg in ni ng of the 18th cen tury. ]

1 See Dryden ’s Works, vol. x ., p . 336.

3 So call ed, accord ing to the commu n icative old correspon

d en t of the Gen tleman ’s Magaz in e in 1745, fromthe un alt erable stiffn ess of his long cravat .


written . The author avows in his preface theobligations he owed to Ro chester,who had recommended himto the King and the Duke, to whosefavour he owed his good success, and on whoseindulgence he reckoned as ensuring that of his nextattempt.l These effusions of grati tude did not, asMr Malone observes, withhold Rochester, shortlyaft er, from lampooning Otway, with circumstances

”2of gross insult, in the Session of the Poets .In the same preface, Otway, in very intelligiblelangu age, bade defiance to Dryden, whom hecharges with having spoken slightly of his play.

3

1 I amwel l sati sfied I had the greatest party of men of

wi t and sen se on my side : amongstwh ich I can n ever en oughackn owledge the u n speakable obl igation s I rec eived from theEarl of R. , who, far above what I am ever able to d eservefromhim, seemed almost tomake i t h i s bu s in ess to establ i shi t in the good op in ion of the k ing and h is royal h ighn ess ;fromboth of wh ich I have sin ce received con firmat ion s oftheir good - l ik ing of i t, an d en cou ragemen t to proceed . A nd

i t i s to him, Imu st, in all grat itu de, con fess, I owe the greates tpart of my good su ccess in th i s, an d on whose indu lgency Iextremely bu ild my hopes of a n ext.” A ccord ingly, n extyear, Otway

’

s play of Ti tu s and Beren ice ” is in scr ibed toRochester, hi s good an d gen erou s patron .

”

3 TomOtway came n ext, TomShadwell’s dear zany,A n d swears for hermcs he writes best of anyDon Carlos his pockets so amply had fi ll’d ,That hi smange was qu i te cured, and his lice were all kill'd.B u t A pollo had seen his face on the stage,A nd pru den tly di d not thi nk fit to engageThe scumof a playhouse for the prop of an age .

“Though a certain wri ter, that shal l be n ameless, (bu tyou may gu ess at himby what follows,) be in g ask

’d his opi

n ion of th is play,very gravely cock

’

t, an d cry’d, I

’

gad hekn ewn ot a lin e in i t he wou ld be au thour of. Bu t he is a fine


But although Dryden did not admire the generalstructure of Otway

’s poetry, he is said, even at

this time, to have home witness to his power ofmoving the passions ; an acknowledgmen t whichhe long afterwards solemnly repeated. Thus Otway, like many others, mistook the character of

a pretended friend, and did . injustice to that of aliberal rival . Dryden and he indeed never appearto have been personal friends, even when theyboth wrote in the Tory interest. It was probablyabout this , time that Otway challenged Settle,whose courag e appears to have failed himuponthe occasion.

Rochesterwas not content with exciting rivalsagainst Dryden in the public opinion, but assailedhimpersonally in an imitation of Horace, whi chhe quaintly entitled, A n Allus ion to the TenthSatire .

” It came out anonymously about 1678,bu t the townwas at no loss to guess that Rochesterwas the patron or au thor. Much of the satire wasbestowed on Dryden, whom Rochester for thefirst time distinguishes by a ridiculous nickname,whi ch was afterwards echoed by imitating duncesIn all their lampoons . The lines are more cutting,because mingled with as much praise as the writerprobably thought necessary to gain the credit of a

facetiou s wi tty person , asmy frien d Sir Formal has i t ; an dto be even wi th him, I kn owa comedy of h is, that has n ot somu ch as a qu ibble in i t wh ich I would be au thour of. A n d

so, reader, I hid himan d thee farewell.” The u se of Dryd en ’s i nterject ion ,well- kn own through Bayes

’

s employing i t,ascerta in s himto be the poe tmean t.


In the preface to A ll for Love, published in1 678, he gives a severe rebuke to those men ofrank,who, having acquired the credit of wit, eitherby virtu e of their qual ity, or by common fame, andfinding themselves possessed of some smattering ofLatin, become ambitious to distin guish themselvesby their poetry from the herd of gentlemen.

A nd i s n ot th is,” he exclaims, awretched afi'ec tat ion , n ott o be con ten ted wi th what fortun e has don e for them, and si td own qu ietlywi th their es tates, bu t theymus t cal l the ir wi tsi n qu estion , and n eed lessly expose their n akedn ess to pu blicv iew Not con sidering that they are n ot to exp ect the sameapprobation from sober men , wh ich they have fou nd fromt heir fiat terers after th e thi rd bottle . If a l i t tle gl i tt er ing ind i scourse has passed themon u s for wi t tymen , where wasthe n ecess i ty of u n dece iving the world Woul d aman whohas an i l l t i tle to an estate, bu t yet is in possession of i t ; wou ldhe bring i t of h is own accord to be tr ied at Westmin ster? We

whowr i te, ifwewan t the talen t, yet have the excu se, thatwedo i t for a poor su bsi sten ce : bu t what can be u rged in theird efen ce,who, n ot having the vocat ion of poverty to scri bble,ou t ofmerewan ton n ess take pain s tomake themselves r id icalou s ? Horace was certainly in the r igh t, where he said ,That noman i s satisfied wi th h is own con d i tion .

’ A poet i sn ot pleased, becau se he is n ot r ich ; an d the r ich are d i scon ten ted , becau se the poets wi ll n ot admi t themof their n umber.Thu s the case i s hardwi th wri ters ; if they su cceed n ot, theymu st starve an d if they do, somemal ic iou s satire i s preparedt o level them, for daring to please wi thou t their leave . Bu t

whi le they are so eager to d estroy the fame of others, theirambi tion i sman ifest in their con cernmen t ; some poemof theirown i s to be produ ced , and the slaves are to be laid flat wi tht heir faces on the groun d, that themon archmay appear in thegreatermaj esty.

”

This general censure of the persons ofwit andhonour about town, is fixed on Rochester in particular, not only by the marked allusion in the last


sentence, to the despo tic tyrannywhich he claimedover the authors of his time, bu t also by a directattack upon such imitators of Horace, who makedoggrel of his Latin, misapply his censures, andoften contradict their own . It is remarkable, however, that he ascr ibes this imitation rather to somezany of the great, than to one of their number ;and seems to have thought Rochester rather thepatron than the author.A t the expense of anticipating the order of

events, and that we may bring Dryden’s dispu te

with Rochester to a conclusion, we must recall tothe reader’s recollect ion our author’s friendshipwith Mulgrav e . This appears to have been sointimate, that, in 1 675, that nobleman intrustedhimwith the task of revising his Essay uponSatire : a poem which contained dishonourablemention of many courtiers of the time, and wasparticularly severe on Sir Car Scrope and Rochest er. The last of these is taxed with cowardi ce,and a thousand odious and mean vices upbraidedwith the grossness and scurrility of his writings,and wi th the infamous profiigacy of his life.

l The

1 Rochester Idespise for’smerewant ofwit,Though thought to have a tail and cloven fee t ;Forwhi le hemischiefmeans to allmankind,Himself alon e the ill efl’ects does fin d ;A nd so, like W i tches, justly su ffers shame;Whose harmlessmali ce is somu ch the same.False are hiswords, affected is hiswit ,S o often does he aim, so seldomhi t.To every face he cringes,whi le he speaks,B u t when the back is turu ’d the head he breaks.Mean in each action, lewd in every limb,Manners themselves are mischievous in him;


versification of the poem is as flat and inharmoniou sas the plan is careless and ill - arranged ; and thoughthe impu tation was to cost Dryden dear, I cannotthink that any part of the Essay on Satire ” re

ceived additions from his pen. Probably he mightcontribu te a fewhints for revision bu t the authorof “A bsalom and A chitophel” could never completely disguise the powers which were shortlyto produce that brilliant satire. Dryden’s versesmust have shone among Mulgrave

’

s as gold besidecopper. The whole Essay is a mere stagnantlevel, no one part of it so far rising above the restas to bespeak the work of a superior hand. The

A proof that chance alonemakes every creatureA very Ki lligrew, W it hou t good-nature.Forwhat a Besenia has he always lived ,A nd his own ki ckings n otably contrivedFor (there ’s the folly that's sti llmixed W i th fear)Cowardsmore blows than any hero bear.Of fighting sparks Fame may her pleasure say,B u t

’t is a bolder thing to ru n away.

The worldmaywell forgive himall his i ll,For every fau lt does prove his penance sti ll.Falsely he falls in to some dangerou s n oose,A nd then asmean ly labours to get loose .A life so in famous is better qu i tting ;Spen t in base injury and lowsubmi tt i ng.

I’d like to have left ou t h is poetry,

Forgot by all almost aswell asme.

S ometimes he has some humou r, n everwit,A nd if i t rarely, very rarely hit ,’T i s u nder su ch a n asty rubb ish laid,To find it ou t's the c i nder-woman ’s trade ;Who for thewretched remnan ts of a fire,Must toil all day in ashes and inmire.So lewdly du ll his idle works appear,Thewretched text deserves n o commen ts hereWhere one poor thought somet imes left all alone,For awhole page of dul ness to atone’Mongst forty bad , on e tolerable l ine,Wi thou t express ion , fancy, or design .

.1 74 LIFE OF JOHN DRYDEN.

held powerful at the time, since they mu st, in thatcase, have saved Dryden from the inconvenientsuspicion,which, we will presently see, attached tohim. The public were accustomed to see thefriendship of wits end in mutual satire ; and the

good- natured Charles was so generally the subjectof the r idicule which he loved, that n o on e seemsto have thought there was improbability in a libelbeing composed on him by his own laureat.The Essay on Satire,

” though written, as appears from the titlepage of the last edition, in 1675,was not made public until 1679,when several copieswere handed about in manu script . Rochester sendson e of these to his friend, Henry Saville, on the

2 1 8t of November, 1679,with this ObservationI have sent you herewith a libel, in which my

own shar e is not the least . The king havingperused it, is n o way dissatisfied with his. The eut hor is apparently Mr Dr[yden] , his patron, LordM[ulgrave,] having a panegyric in the midst .

Th omhence it is evident, that Dryden obtained thereputation of being the au thor ; in consequence ofwhich, Rochester meditated the base and cowardlyrevenge which he aft erwards executed ; and he thuscoolly expressed his intention in another of his lett ers You write me word, that I

’m ou t of favourwi th a certain poet, whom I have admired for thed isproportion of him and his attributes . He is arar ity which I cannot but be fond of, as one wouldbe of a hog that could fiddle, or a singing owl. Ifhe falls on me at the blunt, whi ch is his very good


weapon in wit , I will forgive him if you please ;and leave the rqaartee to black Will with a cud

el.”

9In pursuance of this infamous resolution, Dry

den, upon the night of the 18th December, 1679,was waylaid by hired rufiians, and severely beaten,as he passed through Rose - street, Covent- Garden,returning ‘ from Will’s Coffee- house to his ownhouse in Gerard- street. A reward of L SDwas invain offered, in the London Gazette, and othernewspapers, for the discovery of the perpetratorsof this ou trage .l The town was, however, at noloss to pitch upon Rochester as the employer of thebravoes, with whom the public su spicion joined theDu chess of Portsmouth, equally concerned in thesupposed afi

'

ron t thus avenged. In our time, werea nobleman to have recourse to hi red bravoes toavenge his personal quar rel against any one, moreespecially a person holding the rank of a gentleman,he might lay his account with being hunted ou t Of

society. Bu t in the age of Charles, the ancient

Whereas John Dryden , Esq. was on Mon day the 18thin stan t, at night, barbarou sly assaul ted, an d woun ded, inRose - street, in Coven t- Garden , by d ivers men un kn own ; ifany person shall make d i scovery of the said offend ers to thesaid Mr Dryden , or to any ju st ice of the peace, he shal l n oton ly rece ive fifty poun ds, wh ich i s deposited in the han ds ofMr B lan chard, goldsmith, n ext door to Temple- bar, for thesaid pu rpose ; bu t if he be a pr in cipal , or an accessory, in thesaid fact, h is Maj esty i s grac iou sly pleased to promi se himhispardon for the same. —L ondon Gaz ette, fromDecember 18tht o December 22d, 1679. Mr Malonemen t ion s the same ad .

vert isemen t in a n ewspaper, en t i tled, Domest ic In tell igence,orNews fromC i ty and Coun try.


high and chivalrous sense of honour was esteemedQu ixotic, and the civ il war had left traces of

ferocity in the manners and sentiments of thepeople . Rencounte rs, where the assailants tookalladvantages of number and weapons, were as frequent, and held as honourable, as regular duels .Some of these approached closely to assassination ;as in the famous case of Sir John Coventry, whowas waylaid, and had his nose slit by some youngmen of high rank, for a reflection upon the king

'stheatrical amours . Thi s occasioned the famousstatute against maiming and wounding, called theCoventry A ct an act highly necessary, since so fardid our ancestors’ ideas of manly forbearance differfrom ours, that Killigrewintroduces the hero of oneof his comedies, a cavalier, and the fine gentlemanof the piece, lying in wait for, and slashing the faceof a poor courtezan, who had cheated him.

1

It will certainly be admitted, that a man, surprised ih the dark and beaten by ru ffian s, loses n o

honour by such a misfortune . But, if Dryden hadreceived the same discipline from Rochester’s ownhand without resenting it, his drubbing could nothave been more frequ ently mad e a matter ofreproach to him —a sign surely of the penury ofsubjects for satire in his life and character, since an

I might also men tion the sen t imen t of Coun t Con igs.marck, who allowed, that the barbarou s assassin ation of Mr

Thyn n e by h is bravoes was a stain on h is blood, bu t su ch aon e as a good act ion in the wars, or a lodging on a cou n terscarp, wou ld easily wash ou t . S ee his Tri al , State Tri al s,”vol. i v. Bu t Con igsmarck was a foreign er


and perhaps no longer the enemy of Dryden, hasspoken of the autho r of this dastardly outrage withthe contempt his cowardly malice deserved :

Poets in hon our of the tru th shou ld wr i te,Wi th the same spir i t bravemen for i t figh t ;A n d though again st himcau seless hatred s ri se,A nd dai ly where he goes, of late, h e spiesThe scowls of su llen an d revengefu l eyes ;’Tiswhat he kn ows wi th mu ch con tempt to bear,An d serves a cau se too good to let h imfear :He fea rs n o po i son fromincen sed Drabb,

No ru flian ’s five- foo t sword , n or rascal’s stabNor any o ther sn ares ofmi sch ief laid,Not a Rose- alley cudgel ambuscadeFromany pr ivate cau se wheremal ice reigns,Or gen eral piqu e all blockheads have to brain s.”

It does not appear that Dryden ever thoughtit worth his while to take revenge on Rochester ;and the only allusion to him in his writings maybe fou nd in the Essay prefixed to the translation ofJuvenal, where he is mentioned as a man of quality,

'

whose ashes our author was unwilling todisturb, and who had paid Dorset, to whom thatpiece is inscribed, the highest compliment whichhis self- suffi ciency could afford to any man.

” 1 Perhaps Dryden remembered Rochester among others,when, in the same piece, he takes credit for resisting Opportunities and temptation to take revenge,even upon those by whom he had been notoriouslyand wantonly provoked.

2

[Vi z . the famou s cou pletFor pomted satire Iwou ld Bu ckhurst chuse ;

The best good man , Wi th the worst naturedMore l ibels have been wri tten again stme, than almost

anyman nowliv ing ; and I had reason on my side to have

L IFE OF JOHN DRYDEN.’ 179

'

The detail of these quarrels has interrupted our :

account of Dryden’s writings, whi ch' we are now

to resume.A ureng

- Zebe” was his first performance afterthe failure of the A ssignation It was

'

acted in1 675, with general applau se . A ureng

- Zebe” isa heroic, or rhyming, play, but not cast in a mouldqu ite so romanti c as the Conquest of Granada.”

There is a grave and moral turn in many of thespeeches, which brings it nearer the style of aFrench tragedy. It is true, the character ofMoratbbrders upon extravag ance ; but a certain licensehas been always given to theatrical tyrants, andwe excuse bombast in him more readily than inAlman z or. There is perhaps some reason for thisindulgence .

'

l he possession of unlimited power,vested in active and mercurial characters, naturallydi ives them to an extravagant indulgence of passion, bordering upon insanity ; and it follows, thattheir language must outstrip the modesty of nature .

Propriety of diction in the drama is relative, ande

defended my own inn ocen ce. I speak n ot ofmy poetry,wh ichI havewhol ly gi ven u p to the cri t ics let themu se i t as theyp lease ; poster i ty, perhaps, may be more favou rab le to me ;for in terest an d passion wi l l be bu ried in an other age, an dpart ial i ty an d preju d ice be forgotten . I speak ofmymorals,which have been su fficien tly aspersed that on ly sort of reputat ion ough t to be d ear to every hon est man , an d i s to me.

Bu t let the world wi tn ess for me,that I have often been

wa nting tomyself in that part icu lar. I have seldoman sweredany scu rr i lou s lampoon , when i t was in my power to haveexposed my en emi es ; an d, being n atu rally vin d ict ive, havesu ffered i n silen ce, and possessedmy soul i n qu iet.

”“D ryden 3

Works, vol. xi i i . p. 80.

1 80 L IFE OF JOHN DRYDEN. .

to be referred more to individual character than togeneral rules : to make a tyrant sober -minded, isto make a. madman rational . But this discretionmust be used with great caution by the writer, lesthe should confound the terrible with the burlesqu e .Two great actors, Kynaston and Booth, differedin their style of playin g Morat. The former, whowas the original performer, and doubtless had hisinstructions from the author, gave full force to thesentiments of avowed and barbarous vainglory,which mark the character. When he is de terminedto spare A ureng

- Zebe, and Nou rmahal pleads,’Twill n ot be safe to let himl ive an hou r,

Kynaston gave all the stemand haughty insolenceof despot ism to his answer,

I’l l do’t to Showmy arbitrary power.” 1

But Booth, with modest caution, avoided markingand pressing upon the audience a sent iment hovering between the comic and te rrible, however consonant to the character by whom it was delivered.

The principal incident in A ureng- Zebe”was sug

gested by King Charles himself. The tragedy isdedicated to Mulgrave, whose patronage had beenso effectual, as to introdu ce Dryden and his poetical schemes to the peculiar notice of the king and

duke. The dedication and the prologue of thispiece throw considerable light upon these plan s, aswell as upon the revolut ion which had graduallytaken place in Dryden’s dramatic taste.

Gibber’s Apology, 74.


smooth verse,' and that the scene ought to repre

sent, not a fanciful set of agents exert ing theirsuperhuman faculties in a fairy- land of the poet ’sown c reat ion, bu t human characters, acting fromthe direct and energet ic influ ence of human passions, with whose emo t ions the au dience mightsympathize, becau se akin to the feelings of theirown hearts . When Dryden had once d iscoveredthat fear and pity were more likely to be excitedby other causes than the logic of metaphysical love,or the dictates of fantastic honour , he must havefound, that rhyme soun ded as unnatural in thedialogue of characters drawn upon the usual scaleof humanity, as the plate and mail of chivalry wouldhave appeared on the persons of the actors . Thefollowing lines of the prologue to A ureng

- Zebe,”

although prefixed to a rhyming play, the last whichhe ever wrote, expresses Dryden

’s change of sent imen t on these points .

Our au thor, by exper ien ce, finds i t tru e,’Tismu ch more hard to please h imself than youA nd, ou t of n o feigu

’

d mod esty, thi s dayDamn s h is laboriou s trifle of a playNo t that i t’s worse than what before h e wr i t,Bu t he has n owanother taste ofwit ;A n d, to con fess a tru th, though ou t of t ime,Growsweary of h is long- lovedmistress, Rhyme.Passion ’s too fierce to be in let ters bou n d,A n d n atu re fl ies himl ike en chan ted grou nd .

What verse can do, he has perform’d in th i s,Wh ich he presumes themost correct of h is ;Bu t sp i te of all h is pride, a secret shameIn vades h is breast at Shakspeare’s sacred n ameAwed when he hears h is god l ike Roman s rage,He, in aju st despair, wou ld qu i t the stage ;


A nd to an age less polish’d, more u n skill’d,Does,wi th d i sdain , the foremost honou rs yield .

It is remarkable, as a trait of character, thatthough our au thor admitted his change of Opinionon this long disputed point, he would not consentthat it should be imputed to any arguments whichhis opponents had the wit to bring against him.

On this subject he enters a protest in the Prefaceto his revised edition Of the Essay of DramaticPoesy” in 1 684.

I con fess, I fi nd man y th ings in th i s d iscoii rsewh ich I don ot n owapprove ;my ju dgmen t being n ot a l i ttle altered sin cethe wr i t ing of i t ; bu t whether for the better or theworse, Iknown o t : n either indeed i s i t mu ch mater ial, in an essay

,

where all I have said i s problemat ical . For the way ofwrit ing plays in verse, wh ich I have seemed to favou r, I have,since that t ime, laid the pract ice of i t aside, t i l l I have morel eisu re, becau se I fi nd i t trou blesome an d slow: bu t I amno

way altered frommy opin ion of i t, at least with any reasonswhich have Opp osed it for you r lord sh ipmay easily observe,that n on e are very violen t again st i t, bu t those who e itherhave n ot attempted i t, or who have su cceeded i l l in theirattempt.”

Thus cautious was Dryden in not admitting avictory, even in a cause which he had surrendered.

Bu t, although the poet had admitted, that, withpowers of versifi cat ion superior to those possessedby any earlier Engli sh author, and a taste correctedby the laborious study both of the language and

those who had used it, he found rhyme unfit forthe use Of the drama, he at the same time di scovered a province where it might be employed inall its splendour. We have the mortification to


learn, from the dedication of A ureng- Zebe,

” thatDryden only wanted encouragement to enter uponthe composition of an epic poem, and to abandonthe thr iftless task Of writing for the promiscuousaudience of the theatre,—a task which, rivalled ashe had lately been by Crown e and Settle, he mostjustly compares to the labou r of Sisyphus. H isplot , he elsewhere explains, was to be fou ndedeither u pon the story OfArthur, or of Edward theBlack Prince ; and he mentions it to Mulgrave inthe following remarkable passag e, which argues

great dissatisfaction with dramatic labour, ar isingperhaps from a combined feeling of the bad taste ofrhyming plays, the degrading dispute with Settle,and the failure of the A ssignation,

” his last theatrical attempt

If I mu st be con demn ed to rhyme, I should fin d somecase in my chan ge of pu n i shmen t. I d es ire to be n o longerthe S isyphu s of the stage to roll u p a ston e with end less labou r,wh ich , to fol lowthe prov erb, ga thers nomoss, an dwh ichi s perpetu ally fall ing down again . I n ever thou gh t myselfv ery fi t for an employmen t, where man y of my predecessorshave excelled me in all k in d s an d some ofmy con temporar ies,even inmy own part ial j u dgmeu t, have ou tdon eme in comedy.Some l i ttle hopes I have yet remain ing, (an d those too, consideringmy abi l i ti es,may be vain ,) that Imaymake theworldsome part of amen ds for man y i l l plays, by an heroic poem.

You r lord sh ip has been long acqu ain ted wi thmy des ign ; thesu bj e c t ofwhich you know i s great, the story Engl i sh, an dn ei ther too far d is tan t fromthe presen t age, n or too n ear approaching i t. Su ch i t is inmy Opin ion , that I cou ld n ot havewished a n obler occasion to do hon ou r by i t tomy king, mycoun try, andmy friend s most of our an cien t n obi l i ty beingcon cern ed in the ac tion . An d you r lordsh ip has on e parti cularreason to promote th i s u ndertaking, becau se you were the firstwho gaveme the opportu n i ty of d i scoursing i t to h ismajesty,


Trojans, and leave its mangled relics too pollutedfor the use of genius

Turba son ans preedamp edzbus circumvolat uncisPollu it ore dap es

Semesamp rcedamet vest igiafwda relinquun t .”

A ureng- Zebe” was followed, in 1678, by “A ll

for Love,” the only play Dryden ever wrote for

himself ; the rest, he says,were given to the people.The habitual study of Shakspeare, which seemslately to have occasioned, at least greatly aided,the revolution in his taste, indu ced him, among acrowd of emulous shooters, to try his strength inthis bowof Ulysses. I have, in some preliminaryremarks to the play, endeavou red to point out thedifference between the manner of these greatartists in treating the misfortunes of A ntony andCleopatra.

‘ If these are ju st, we must allow Dryden the praise of greater regularity of plot, and ahappier combination of scene ; but in sketchingthe character of A ntony, he loses the majestic andheroic tone whi ch Shakspeare has assigned him.

There is too much of the love - lorn knight- errant,and too little of the Roman warrior, in Dryden

’shero. The passion of A ntony, however overpowering and destructive in its effects, ought notto have resembled the love of a sighing swain of

A rcadia. This error in the original conceptionof the character mu st doubtless be ascribed toDryden’s habit of romantic composition. Monte

'

Dryden ’s Works, vol. v . , p. 287.


zuma and A lman z or were, like the prophet’s image,formed of a mixtu re of iron and clay of stern andrigid demeanour to all the universe, bu t u nboun deddevotion to the ladies of their affections. In A n

tony, the first class of attribu tes are di scarded hehas none of that tumid and outrageous dignitywhich characterised the heroes of the rhymingplays, and in its stead is gifted with even morethan a usual share of devoted attachment to hismistress .1 In the preface, Dryden piques himselfupon ventur ing to in troduce the quarrelling scenebetween Octavia and Cleopatra, whi ch a Frenchwriter would have rejected, as contrary to thedecorum of the theatre . Bu t our au thor’s idea offemale character was at all times low; and thecoarse, indecent violence,which he has thrown intothe expressions of a qu een and a Roman matron,is misplaced and di sgusting, and contradicts thegeneral and well- founded observation on the ad

dress and self- command, with which even womenof ordinary di spositions can veil mutual di slikeand hatred, and the extreme keenness with whi chthey can arm their satire,while preserving all theext ernal forms of civ il demeanour . But Drydenmore than redeemed thi s error in the scene betweenA ntony and Ventidiu s,which he himself preferred

1 Thi s d i st in ct ion ou r au thor h imself poin ts ou t in th ePrologu e The poe t there says,

Hishero,whomyou wits hisbu lly call,Bates of hi smettle, and scarce ran ts at allHe ’

s somewhat lewd , bu t awell-mean ingmind .

Keepsmu ch, fights little, b ut iswondrou sk ind.

D ryden’s Works, vol. v., p. 321.


to any that he ever wrote, and perhaps with justice, if we except that between Dorax and Sebast ian : both are avowedly writt en in imitation of

the qu arrel between Brut us and Cassiu s. “All for

Love” was received by the publi c with universalapplause. Its success, with that Of“A ureng

- Zebe,”

gave fresh lustre to the au thor’s repu tation, whichhad been somewhat tarnished by the failure of theA ssignation,

” and the rise of so many rival dramat ists. We learn from the Players’ petition tothe Lord Chamberlain, that A ll for Love” wasof service to the author’s fortu ne as well as to hisfame, as he was permitted the benefit of a t hirdnight, in addition to his profits as a Sharer withthe company. The play was dedicated ‘ to theEarl of Danby, then a minister in high power, bu twho, in the cou rse of a fewmonths, was disgracedand imprisoned at the sui t of the Commons. As

Danby was a great advocate for prerogat ive, Dryden fails n ot to approach him with an encomiumon monarchical government, as regulated and circumscribed by law. In reprobating the schemesof t hose innovators, who, su rfeit ing on happiness,endeavoured to persuade their fellow- subjects torisk a chang e, he has a pointed allus ion to theEarl of Shaftesbury, who, having left the royalcoun cils in disgrace, was now at the head of thepopular faction.

In 1 678 Dryden’s next play, a comedy, entitledL imberham, was acted at Dorset- garden theatre,but was endured for three nights only. It wasdesigned, the author informs us, as a satire on


mat ists of different nations, I need not here resumethe subject. The time Of the first representationis fixed to the beginning of the playing season, inwinter 1 678—9, although it was not printed until

Both Limberham and (Edipu s wereacted at the Duke’s theatre ; so that it would seemthat our au thor was relieved from his contractwiththe King’s hou se, probably becau se the shareswereso mu ch diminished in valu e, that his appointmentwas nowno adequate compensation for his labour .

The managers of the King’ s company complained

to the lord chamberlain, and endeavoured, as wehave seen, by pleading upon the cont ract, to asserttheir right to the play of (Edipu s.

2 Bu t theirclaim to reclaim the poet and the play appear s tohave been set aside, and Dryden continued to givehis performances to the Duke’s theatre un til theunion of the two companies .Dryden was now to do a n ewhomage to Shak

speare, by refitting for the stag e the play of Troilus and Cressida,

” which the author left in a stateof strange imperfection, resembling more a chro

nicle, or legend, than a dramatic piece. Yet itmay be dispu ted whether Dryden has greatly improved it even in the particularswhi ch he censuresin his original. His plot, though more artificial, isat the same time more trite than that of Shakspeare.

The device by which Troilus is led to doubt theconstancy of Cressida is much less natural thanthat she should have been actually inconstant ; her

By allu sion to the act for bu rying in woollen .

See their Peti tion , an te, p . 86.


vindication by sui cide is a clumsy, as well as ahackneyed expedient and there is too much drumand trumpet in the grandfi na le, where Troilusand Diomede fight, and both parties engage at thesame time . The Trojans make the Greeks retire,and Tro ilus makes Diomede give ground, andhurts him. Trumpets sound. A chilles enterswith his Myrmidons, on the backs of the Trojans,who fight in a ring, encompassed roun d. Troilus ,singling Diomede, gets him down and kills him andA chilles kills Troilus upon him. All the Trojansdie u pon the place, Troilus last Such a bellumin ternecz

’

numcan never bewaged to advantag e uponthe stage. On e extravagant passage in this playserves strongly to evince Dryden’s rooted disliketo the clergy.

1 Troilus exclaims,

That I shou ld tru st the daugh ter of a priest IPriesthood, thatmakes amerchand i se of heaven !Pr i esthood , that sells even to their prayers an d blessings,A nd forces u s to pay for our own coz en ageThersites. Nay, cheats heaven toowi th en trail s an d wi th

ofi'

als

Gives i t the garbage of a sacrifice,A n d keeps the best for pr ivate lu xu ry .

1 Malevolence to the clergy is seldomat a great distance fromirreveren ce of religion . and Dryden affords n o exception to thisobservation. HIS writmgs ex lIIbIt many passages, whi ch, wi th all

the allowan ce that can bemade for characters and occasions, are su chas pietywou ld n ot have admitted . an d su ch asmay viti ate light an du npri ncipled mi nds. B u t there Is n o reason for supposing that hedisbelieved the rel ig ion t ch he d isobeyed . He forgot his du tyrather than d isowned it . His tenden cy to profanen ess is the effect oflevay, negl igence, and loose conversatIon , with a desire of aecommodat ing himself to the corru pti on of the times, by ven turing to bewicked as far as he durst. When he professed himself a convert toPopery, he did not pretend to have received any n ewconviction of

the fundamen tal doctrin es of Christian ity.”—JOHN50N.]


Troilus . Thou has t deserved th y. l ife for cu rsing priests.L et me embrace thee ; thou art beau t iful ,That back, that n ose, those eyes are beau t ifulL ive ; thou art hon est, for thou hat ’st a pr ies t. ”

Dryden prefixed to Troilus and Cressida his

excellent remarks on the Grounds of Critic ism inTragedy, givin g up, with dign ified indifference,the faults ev en of his own pieces, when they con

tradict the rules his later judgment had adopted.

Howmuch hi s taste had altered since his E ssayof Dramatic Poesy,” or at least since his Remarkson Heroic Plays, will appear from the followingabridgement of his new maxims. The Plot, according to these remarks, ou ght to be simply and

naturally detailed from its commencement to itsconclusion,—a rule which excluded the crowdedincidents Of the Spanish Drama ; and the personagesought to be dign ified and virtuous, that their misfortunesmight at once excite pity and terror. Theplots of Shakspeare and Fletcher are meted by thi srule, and pronounced inferior in mechanic regu larity to those of Ben Jonson. The Characters ofthe agents, or persons, are next to be considered ;and it is required that their Manners shall be atonce omarked, dramatic, cons istent, and natural.A nd here the supereminent powers of Shakspeare,in displaying the manners, bent, and inclination ofhis characters, is pointed out to the reader

’s admiration. The copiousness of his invention, and hisju dgment in sustaining the ideas which he started,are illu strated by referring to Caliban, a creatureof the fancy,begot by an incubus upon a witch, and


Un taugh t, un practi sed, in a barbarou s age,I fou n d n ot. bu t crea ted first the stage.An d , if I drain ’d n o Greek or L atin store,’Twas, thatmy own abu n dan ce gavememore.On foreign trad e I n eed ed n ot rely,L ike fru itfu l Bri tain , r ich wi thou t supply.In th is,my rough - drawn play, you shall beholdSome master-s trokes, so man ly an d so bo ld,That he who mean t to al ter, fou nd ’

emsu ch,H e shook, and thought i t sacr ilege to tou ch .

Now, where are the su ccessors tomy n ameWhat br ing they to fil l ou t a poet’s fameWeak, short- l ived i ssu es of a feeble ageScarce l iving to be christen ’d on the stageFor humourfarce, for love they rhyme d i spen se,That tolls the kn ell for their departed sen se .”

It is impossible to read these lines, rememberingDryden’s earlier Opinions, wi thout acknowledgingthe truth of the ancient proverb,Magna est ver z

'

tas,

et p reva lebz'

t.

The Spanish Friar, our author’s most success

ful comedy, su cceeded Troilus and Cressida.

”

W ithout repeating the remarks which are prefix edto the play in the present edi tion, l we may briefly1 [See Scott

’s ed i t ion of Dryden , vol . v i . , p. 367. The Edi

t or there says, The Span i sh Friar, or the Dou ble D i scovery,is on e of the best an d most popu lar of our poet’ s dramaticefi

'

orts. The plot is, as John son remarks, par ticu larly happy,for the co in c iden ce and coal it ion of the trag ic and comic plots.The grou n ds for th i s emin en t cr i tic’s encomiumwil l be fou nd.to l i emore deep than appears at first sight . It was, indeed,a su fficien tly obviou s con n exion , tomake the gay L orenz o an

O fficer of the conqu er in g army, an d attached to the person of

Torrismond . Th is exped i en t cou ld h ardly have escaped th ein ven tion of themos t vu lgar playwr igh t that ever dovetailedt ragedy an d comedy together. The fel ic i ty of D ryd en ’s plot,t herefore, does n ot con sist in the ingen u ity of hi s or igin alconcept ion , bu t in the minu tely art ificial strokesh bywhi ch

L IFE o r JOHN DRYDEN. 195

noti ce, that in the tragic scenes our author has ‘

attained that better st rain of dramati c poetry,which he afterwards evinced in Sebastian .

” Inthe comic part, the iwell- known character of FatherDominic, though the conception only embodies theabst ract idea which the ignorant and prejudicedfanatics of the day formed to themselves of aRomish priest, is brought ou t and illustrated withpeculiar spirit. The glu ttony, avarice, debauchery,and meanness of Dominic, are qualified with thetalent and Wit necessary to save him fr om beingutterly detestable ; and, from the beginning to theend of the piece , these qualities are so happilytinged with insolence, hypocrisy, and irritability,that they canno t be mistaken for the avarice, debau chery, gluttony, and meanness of any otherprofession than that of a bad chu rchman. In thetragic plot, we principally admire the generalmanagement of the opening, and chiefly censure thecold- blooded barbarity and perfidy of the youngthe reader i s perpetually reminded of the depen dence of th eone part of the play on the other. These are so frequ en t, an dappear so very n atur al, that the comic plo t, in stead of d i verting our atten t ion from the trag ic bu s in ess, recall s i t to our

mind by con stan t an d u n affec ted al lu sion . No great even thappen s in the h igher region of the camp or cou rt, that hasno t some in d irec t in flu en ce u pon the in trigu es of Lorenz o andElvira ; and the part whi ch the gal lan t i s call ed u pon to act

in the revolu t ion that winds u p the tragic in terest,wh i le i t ish igh ly in character, serves to br ing the catastrophe of bo thparts of the play u n der the eye of the spec tator, at on e an dt he same t ime. Thu smu ch seemed n ecessary to exp lain th efel ic i ty of combina t ion , u pon wh ich Dryden j u stly valu edh imself, an d wh ich John son san ct ion ed by his high commend at ion ,” &c . ]


queen, in instigating the murder of the deposedsovereign, and then attempting to turn the guilton her accompli ce. I fear Dryden here forgot hisown general rule, that the tragic hero and heroineshould have so mu ch virtue as to entitle their dist ress to the t ribu te of compassion. Al together,however, the Spanish Friar,

” in both its parts,is an interesting, and almost a fascinat ing play ;although the tendency, even of the tragic scenes

,

is not laudable, and the comedy, though more decent in language, is not less immoral in tendencythan was usual in that loose age.Dryden attached considerable importance to the

art with which the comic and tragic scenes of theSpanish Friar ” are combined ; and in doing so,

he has received the sanction of Dr Johnson . Indeed, as the ardour of his mind ever led himtoprize that task most highly, on which he had mostlately employed his energy, he has affirmed in thededi cation to the Spanish Friar,

” that there wasan absolute necessity for combining two actions intragedy, for the sake of variety. The tru th is,

”

he adds, the audience are grown weary of contin u ed melancholy scenes ; and I dare venture to

p rophesy, that few tragedies, except those in verse,shall su cceed in this age, if they are not lightenedwith a course of mirth' ; for the feast is too dull andsolemn without the fiddles.

” The necessity of therelief alluded to may be admitted, without allowing that we mu st substitute either the misplacedcharms of versification , or a secondary comic plot,to relieve the solemn weight and monotony of tra

1 98 L IFE OF JOHN DRYDEN.

ter answer in prose, and with a would-be witticism,

to the solemn, unrelaxed blank verse of his tragiccompanion.

l Mercutio is, I think, one of the bestinstan ce s of such a comic person as may be reason~ably and with propriety admitted into tragedyFrom which, however, I do not exclude those lowercharacters, whose conversation appears absurd ifmuch elevated above their rank. There is

, however, another mode, yet more diffi cu lt to be usedwith address, but much more fortunate in efi

'

ect

when it has been successfully employed. This is,when the principal personages themselves do not

always remain in the buckram of tragedy, bu treserve, as in common life, lofty expressions forgreat occasions, and at other times evince themselves capable of feeling the lighte r, as well as themore violent or more deep, affections of the mind .

The shades of comic humour in Hamlet, in Hotspur, and in Falconbridge, are so far from injuring,that they greatly aid the effect of the tragic scenes,in whi ch these same persons take a deep and tragical share. We grieve with them, when grieved,still more, because we have rejoiced with themwhen they rejoiced ; and, on the whole, we acknowledge a deeperfraterfeeling, as Burns has termedit, in men who are actu ated by the usual changesof human temperament, than in those who, con

trary to the nature of humanity, are eternallyactuated by an unvaried strain of tragic feeling.

But Whether the poe t diversifi es his melancholy

Thi s is r id icul ed in Chron onhoton thologos.


scenes by the passing gaiety of subordinate characters or whether he qualifies the tragic state of hisheroes by occasionally assigning lighter tasks tothem orwhether he chooses to employ both modesof relieving the weight of misery through five longacts ; it is obviously unnecessary that he shoulddistract the attention of his audience, and destroythe regularity of his play, by introducing a comicplot with personages and interest altogether distinct, and intrigue but slightly connected with thatof the tragedy. Dryden himself afterwards acknowledged, that, though he was fond of the SpanishFriar,

”he could not defend it from the imputation

of Go thi c and unnatural irregularity ; for mirthand gravity destroy each other, and are no more tobe allowed for decent, than a gay widow laughingin a mourning habit.” 1

The Spanish Friar was brought out in 1681—2,when the nation was in a ferment against the Ostholics, on ac count of the supposed plot. It is dedicated to John , Lord Haughton, as a p rotestant

p lay inscribed to a p rotestan t p atron . It was alsothe last dramatic work, excepting the politicalplay of the Duke of Gu ise,

” and the masque ofAlbion and Alban ius, brought out by ou r authorbefore the Revolution. A nd in political tendency,the Spani sh Friar ” has so different colouringfrom these last pieces, that it is worth while topau se to examine the private relations of the authorwhen he composed it.

Paral lel of Poe try and Pain t ing, D ryden’s Works

,vol

‘

xvu . , p. 325.


Previous to 1678, Lord Mulgrave, our au thor’s

constant and probably effectu al patron, had givenhim an opport unity of discoursing over his plan ofan epic poem to the King and Duke of York ; andin the preface to A u reng

- Zebe ” in that year,the poet int imates an ind irect complaint, that theroyal brothers had neglect ed his plan.

1 A bou ttwo years afterwards, Mulgrave seems himself to

have fallen into disgrace, and was considered asin Opposition to the court .” Dryden was deprivedof his intercession, and appears in some degree tohave shared his disgrace. The Essay on Satirebecame public inNovember, 1679, and being generally imputed to Dryden, it is said dist inctly byon e libeller, that his pension was for a time interrupted

? This does not seem likely ; it is moreprobable, that Dryden shared the general fate of

1 See an te, p. 184.

3 He i s said to have cast the eyes of ambi tiou s affection on

the L ady A n n e, (afterward s qu een , ) dau ghter of the D uke ofYork ; at wh ich presumption Charles was somu ch offen ded .

t hat when Mu lgrave wen t to rel ieve Tangi er in 1680, he issaid to have been appoin ted to a leaky an d frai l vessel, inhopes that h emigh t per i sh an inju ry wh ich he resen ted so

h igh ly, as n ot to permi t th e k ing's heal th to be dru nk at h i s

t able t i ll th e voyage was over. On h is retu rn fromTang ierhe was refu sed the regimen t of the Earl of Plymou th ; and,

con sidering his services as n eglected , for a t ime join ed thosewho were d i scon ten ted wi th the governmen t . He was probably reclaimed by receiving the governmen t of Hu l l an dl ieu ten an cy of Yorksh ire —See D ryden ’

s Works, vol. i x. , pp .504, 505.

3 In a poemcalled The L au reat,” the satiri st is so il l informed, as sti ll tomake D ryden the au thor of the Essay onSatire.” Su rely i t i s u n l ikely to su ppose, that he shou ld havesubmi tted to the loss of a pen sion, which he somuch n eeded,


from be ing in a situation to incu r odium by dismiss ing a laureat for having written a Protestan t

p lay, that he was obliged for a time to throwthereins of government into the hands of those verypersons, to whom the Papists were most obnoxious .The inference drawn from Dryden’s performancewas, that he had deserted the court ; and the Dukeof York was so much displeased with the tenor ofthe play, that it was the only one, of which, onacceding to the crown, he prohibited the representation . The Spanish Friar was often obj ect edto the author by his opponents, after he had embraced the religion there satirized. Nor was theidea of his apostasy fi '

omthe court an inven tion ofhis enemies after his conversion, for it prevailed atthe commencement of the party di sputes and thename of Dryden is, by a part isan of royalty, rankedwith that of his bitter foe Shadwell, as followersof Shaftesbury in But whatever cause of

coolness or disgust our author had received fromCharles or his brother, was removed, as usual , assoon as his services be came necessary ; and thus thesupposed author of a libel on the kin g became theablest defender of the cause of monarchy, and theauthor of the Spanish Friar,

” the advocate andconvert of the Catholi c religi on.

In his private circumstances Dryden must havebeen even worse situated than at the close of the

1 In A Modest Vind icat ion of A n ton y, Earl of Shaftesbury, in a L etter to a Frien d con cern ing his having been elected King of Polan d,” D ryden i s named poet lau reat to the

supposed k ing-elect, and Shadwell his depu ty.- See D ryden’

s

Works, vol. ix. , p . 453.


last Section. His contract wi th the King’s Company was now ended, and long before seems tohave produced himlittle profit. If Sou thern e’sbiographer can be trusted, Dryden never madeby a. single play more than one hundred pounds ;so that, with all his fertilit y, he could not, at hisutmost exertion, make more than two hundreda - year by his theatrical labou rs .1 A t the sametime, they so totally engrossed his leisure, that heproduced no other work of consequence after theA nnus Mirabz

'

lis.

“ If, therefore, the paymentOf his pension was withheld, whether from theresentment of the court, or the poverty of the

exchequer, he might well complain of the nu

settled state,” whi ch doomed himto continue these

irksome and ill- paid labours .

Dryden be ing very desirou s of kn owing howmu chSou therne had mad e by the profi ts of on e of h is plays, theo ther, con sciou s of the li ttle su ccess Dryden hadmet wi th int heatr ical composi tions, d ecl in ed the qu est ion , and an swered,he was really ashamed to acqu ain t him. Dryden con t inuingt o be sol ic i tou s to be in formed , Sou thern e own ed he hadc leared by h is last play L 700 ; wh ich appeared aston i sh ing toD ryd en , who was perhaps ashamed to confess, that he hadn ever been able to acqu ire, by any of hismost su ccessfu l pieces,more than L . zfe of Sou therne prefixed to h is Plays.For a cur iou s accoun t of the pr ices obtain ed for poems an dplays in those times, see D

’

Isau zm’s Quarrels of A uthors,

A ppen dix to vol. i. ]There was pu bl i shed 1679, a tran slation of A ppian , pr in t

ed for John Amery at the Peacock, again st S t Dun sten ’

s

Chu rch , Fles t- street. It i s in scribed by the tran slator, J. D .,

to th e Earl of Ossory ; and seems to have been un dertaken byhis command . Th is work is u su ally termed, in catalogu es,

Dryd en ’s A pp ian . I presume i tmay be th e work of that Jonathan Dryden , who ismen tion ed, ante, p. 24.


SECTION V.

D ryden engages in Politics—Absalomand Ac/zz'

tophe l, PartF z

'

rst The Medal—Mac-F lecknoe—Absalomand Acidtop hel, Part Second l e D uke of Gu ise.

THE controversies in which Dryden had hithertobeen engaged,were of a private complexion, aris ingou t of literary disputes and rivalry. But the country was now deeply agitated by polit ical faction ;and so powerful an auxiliary was not permitted byhis party to remain in a state of inactivity. Therelig ion of the Duke of York rendered him oh

n oxious to a large proportion of the people, stillagitated by the terrors of the Popish Plot. TheDuke ofMonmouth, handsome, young, brave, andcourteous, had all the external requisites for a popular idol ; and what hewanted in mental qu alitieswas amply supplied by the Machiavel subtlety of

Shaftesbu ry. The life of Charles was the onlyisthmus between these contending tides, which,mounting, viewed each other fromafar, and strovein vain to meet.” It was already obviou s, that theking’s death was to be the signal of civilwar. Hiss ituation was doubly embarrassing, because, in all

probability, Monmouth, whose claims were bothunjust in themselves, and highly derogatory to the


of York, and the ministry, in songs and libels,whi ch, however paltry, were read, sung, rehearsed,and applauded. It was time that some champ ionshould appear in behalf of the crown, before thepublic should have been irrecoverably alienatedby the incessant and slanderou s clamour of itsopponents . Dryden’s place, talents, and mode of

thinking, qualified himfor this task. He was thepoet laureat and household servant of the king,thus tumultuously assailed. H is vein of satirewas keen, terse, and powerful, beyond any thathas since been displayed. From the time of theRestoration, he had been a favourer of monarchy,perhaps more so, because the Opinion divided himfrom his own family. If he had been for a th e

neglected, the smiles of a sovereign soon made hiscoldne ss forgotten ; and if his narrow fortune wasnot increased, or even rendered stable, he hadpromises of provision, whi ch inclined him to lookto the fu ture with hope , and endure the presentwith patience. If he had shared in the discontentwhich for a time severed Mulgrave from the royalparty, that cause ceased to Operate when his patronwas reconciled to the court, an d received a shareof the spo ils of the disgraced Monmouth.

1 If therewanted further impulse to induce Dryden, con

scious of his strength, to mingle in an afl’raywhereit might be displayed to advan tage, he had thestimulus of personal attachment and personal eu

1 Mulgrave was created l ieu tenan t of Yorkshire and governor of Hul l,when Monmou thwas deprived of these and otherhonours.

L IFE OF JOHN DRYDEN.‘ 207

m ity, to sharpen his political animosity. Ormond,Halifax, and Hyde, Earl of Ro chester, among thenobles, were his patrons ; Lee and Sou thern e,

among the poets, were his fri ends . These werepartisans of royalty. The Duke of York, whomthe Spanish Friar ” probably had offended, wasconciliated by a prologue on his visiting the theatreat his return from Scotland,

I and, it is said, by theomission of certain peculiarly offensive passages,as soon as the play was reprinted ? The oppositeranks contained Bu ckingham, au thor of the Re

hearsal ;” Shadwell, with whom our poet now

urged Open war ;'

and Settle, the insolence ofwhose r ivalry was neither forgotten, n or dulyavenged . The respect due to Monmouth wasprobably the only consideration to be overcomebut his character was to be handled with peculi arlenity ; and his duchess, who, rather than himself,had patronised Dryden, was so dissatisfied withhis politics, as well as the other irregularities ofher husband, that there was no dang er of hertaking a gentle correction Of his ambition as anyaffront to herself. Thus stimulated by every mo

1 See Dryd en ’s Works, vol . x. , p. 366.

9 Th i s i s objected to Dryden by on e of h is an tagon i stsNor cou ld ever Shimei be though t to have cursed Dav idmore bitter ly, than he permi ts h is fr iend to blas pheme th eRoman pr iesthood in h is epi logu e to the Span i sh Fri ar. ’ Inwhich play he has h imself acted h is own part l ike a tru eyou nger son of Noah , as may be eas ily seen in the firs t ed i t iono f that comedy, wh ich wou ld n ot passmu ster a secon d t imewi thou t emen dation s an d correction s.”—The Revolter, 1687,p. 29.


tive, and withheld by none, Dryden composed,and, on the 1 7th November, 168 1 , published, thesatire of A bsalom and A chitophel.The plan of the satire was not n ewto the pub

lic. A catholic poet had, in 1679, paraphrased thescriptural story of Naboth’s vineyard, and appliedit to the condemnation of Lord Stafford, on accountof the Popish Plot. l This poem is written in thestyle of a scriptu ral allusion ; the names and situations of personages in the holy text being appliedto those contemporaries, to whom the author assigned a place m his piece. Neitherwas the obvious application of the story of A bsalom and A chitophel to the persons of Monmou th and Shaftesbury first made by our poet. A prose paraphrase,published in 1680, had already been composedu pon this allusionf” Bu t the vigour of the satire,the happy adaptation, not only of the incidents,but of the very names to the individuals characterised, gave Dryden

’s poem the full effect ofn ovelty. It appeared a very short time afte rShaftesbury had been committed to the Tower,and only a fewdays before the grand jury wereto take under consideration the bill preferredagainst him for high treason. Its sale was rapidbeyond example ; and even those who were mostseverely characterised,were compelled to acknowledge the beauty, if not the justice, of the satire .

See Dryden ’s Wo1 ks, vol . ix. , p . 198.

See Dryden ’3 Wmks, vol . ix. p. 199. I

‘

h1s p 1ece, en t i tledAbsalom’s Conspiracy, or the Tragedy of Treason,” is

prin ted on p. 205 of the same volume.


has been reported, that this mitigation was intended to repay a singular exertion of generosity onShaftesbu ry

’

s part, who, while smarting under thelash of Dryden’s sat ire, and in the short intervalbetween the first and second edition of the poem,

had the liberality to procure admission for the poet’sson upon the , fou ndation of the Charter- house, of

which he was then governor. ButMr Malone hasfully confuted this tale, and shown, fromthe recordsof the seminary, that Dryden

’s son Erasmus was

gree ofj ust ice i s ren dered to h i s acu te talen ts, and to hismeri tsas a j udge, that we are gain ed by the poet’s apparen t candourto give himcred i t for the tru th of the portrai t in i ts harsherfeatures. It i s remarkable, that the on ly con siderable add it ion s made to the poem, after the first ed i tion , have a t en.

d en cy rather tomoll ify than to sharpen the sat ire. The fol

lowing add i t ion al passage, in the character of Ach itophel,stands in this pred icamen t

A name to all su cceedi ng ages cu rst,'l fi 0 i

In frien dship false , implacable in hate ;Resolved tomin , or to ru le the state.To compass this the trnple bon d he brokeThe pillars Of the publ ic safety shookA nd fitted Israe l for a forengn yokeThen ,

se lz'

d With fear, Ye t sti ll atiec t ing fame,Usurp

'd a patn ot’s all-aton in g nameSo ecuy still t t p rovesmfactzow tu nes,

Wzth publi c z ea l to cancel p r ivate crimes.Howsafe is treason , and howmored ill,Where n one camt in aga in st the peop le

’swzll

t ere crowd: can wmk, and n o ofi'

en ce be kn own.Smce in another ’

: gu i lt theyfi nd thezr own 2Yetfame deserved no en emy can g ru dg e

The sta tesman we abhor , bu t p rai e thej u dg e.In Israel

’

: cou r t: n e'ermt an A bethdm,

Withmore dzscermng eyes, or ha nd: move clean,Unbribed, umou ght, the wretched to redress

S un] ?of dema lek, a nd easy

L IFE OF JOHN DRYDEN. 2 1 1

admitted upon the recommendation of the kinghimself. 1 The insertion, therefore, of the lines incommemoration of Shaftesbury

’s judi cial character,

was a voluntary effusion on the part of Dryden,and a tribute which he seems to have judged itn roper to pay to the merit even of an enemy.

Others of the party ofMonmouth, or rather of theO pposition party, (for it consisted, as is commonlythe case, of a variety of factions, agreeing in thesingle principle of opposition to the government,)were stigmatized with severity, only inferior tothat applied to A chi tophel. Among these we dist inguish the famou s Duke of Buckingham, withwhom, under the character of Zimri, our authorbalanced accounts for his share in the Rehearsal 2

See Dryden ’s Works, vol. ix. , p . 201 .

Some of their chiefswere princes of the landIn the first rank of these did Zimri standA man so variou s, that he seem'

d to be

Not one , bu t allmankmd ’

s epitome ;Still“ in op in ions, always in the wrong.Was every thmg by starts. and no thmg longBu t, in the course of one revolvmgmoon .

Was chemist, fiddler, statesman , and bu ffoonThen all forwomen , pain tmg , rhyming. drink ing,Besides ten thousand freaks that d led in th inking.

Blestmadman ,who cou ld every hour employ,With something newto wish. or to enjoy !Rai l ing and praising were his u sual themesA nd both , to showhis judgmen t, in extremes ;So over violen t, or over c1vil.That everyman with himwas God or devil.In squanden ngwealth was his pecu liar art ;Nothi ngwen t unrewarded bu t desert.Beggar'd by fools, whomst ll he found too late ;He had hi s jest, and they had his estate.He laugh

'd himself fromCo urt a then sought reliefBy forming parties, but cou ld ne ’er be chief

2 12 .L IFE or JOHN DRYDEN.

Bethe], the Whig sherifl'

, whose scandalous avari cewas only equalled by his factions turbulence andTitus Oates, the pret ended discoverer of the Popish Plot. The account of the Tory chiefs, whoretained, in the language of the poem, their friendship for David at the expense of the popular hatred,included, of course, most of Dryden

’

3 personal prot ectors. The aged Duke of Ormond IS panegyrizedwith a beau t iful apostrophe to the memory of his

son , the gallant Earl of Ossory. The Bishops of

London and Rochester Mulgrave, our author’

s

constant patron, now reconciled with Charles andhis government ; the plausible and trimming Halifax ; and Hyde, Earl of Rochester, second son tothe great Clarendon, appear in this list. The poethaving thus arrayed and mustered the forces oneach side, some account of the combat is naturallyexpected ; and Johnson complains, that, after allthe interest excited, the story is but lamely windedup by a speech from the throne, which producesthe instantaneous and even marvellous effect, of

reconciling all parties, and subduing the wholephalanx of opposition . Even thus, says the criti c,the walls, towers, and battlements of an enchantedcastle disappear, when the destined knight windshis horn before it. Spence records in his A n ec

dotes, that Charles himself imposed on Drydenthe task of paraphrasin g the speech to his Oxford

For, sp ite of him, theweight of bu siness fellOn A bsalomand wise Ach i tophelThu s,wicked bu t in Wi ll, ofmeans bereft.He left not faction, bu t of that was left " 1


The success of this wonderful satire was so great;that the court had again recourse to the assistanceof its author . Shaftesbury was now liberated fromthe Tower ; for the grand jury, partly influencedby deficiency of proof, and partly by the principlesof the Whig party, ou t of which the sheriffs had

efully selected them, refused to find the bill ofhigh treason against him . This was a subject ofunbounded triumph to his adherents, who celebrated his acquittal by the most public marks ofrejoicing. Amongst others, a medal was struck,bearing the head and name of Shaftesbury, and onthe reverse, a sun, obscured with a cloud , r isingover the Tower and city of London, with the dateof the refusal of the bill, (24thNovember,and the motto LE TAMUR . These medals, whichhis partisans wore ostentatiously at their bosoms,excited the general indignat ion of the Tories andthe king himself is said to have suggested it as atheme for the satirical muse of Dryden, and tohave rewarded his performance with a hundredbroad pieces . To a poet of less fertility, the royalcommand, to write again upon a character, which,in a former satir e, he had drawn with so much

precision and felicity, might have been as embarrassing at least as honourable. But Dryden wasinexhaustible ; and easily discovered, that, thoughhe had given the outline of Shaftesbury in Ah

salom and A chitophel,” the finished colouring

might merit another canvass . A bout the l 6th of

March, 1 681, he published, anonymously, The


Medal, a Satire against Sedi tion,” with the apt

motto,Per Grafamp op ulos, mediceque p er Elidz

'

s u rbemIbat ovans D ivumque sibi p osceba t honores.

"1

In this satire, Shaftesbury’

s history ; his frequentpolitical apostas ies his licentious course of life, socontrary to the stern rigou r of the fanatics, withwhom he had associated ; his arts in instigatingthe fury of the anti-monarchists ; in fine, all thepolitical and moral bearings of his character,—aresounded and exposed to contempt and reprobation,the beauty of the poetry adding grace to theseverity of the satire . What impression thesevigorous and well- aimed darts made upon Shaft esbury,who was so capable Of estimating their sharpness and force, we have no means to ascertain ; butlong afterwards, his grandson, the author of theCharacter istics, speaks of Dryden and hi s workswith a bitter affectation of contempt, offensive toevery reader of judgment, and obviously formed

I t was Charles I I . who gave Mr Dryden th e h in t forwri t ing h is poemcal led the Medal. On e day as the kingwaswalking in the Mall, an d talking wi th Dryden, he said, If

I was a poet, (an d I th ink I ampoor en ou gh to be one, ) Iwou ld wri te a poemon su ch a su bj ect in the followingmann er,

’an d then gave h imthe plan for i t. D ryden took the

h in t, carr ied the poemas soon as i t waswri tten to the Kin g,and had a presen t of a hu n dred broad pieces for i t. (Th iswassaid by a pr iest that I often met wi th at Mr Pope's, whoseemed to confirmi t, an d added, that King Charles obl igedDryden to pu t hi s Oxford speech in to verse, an d to in sert i ttowards th e close of h is A bsaloman d —Pora,Sp ence

’

s A necdotes, (Malon e,) p.

2 16 L IFE o r JOHN DRYDEN.

on prejudi ce against the man , rather than disliketo the poetry.

1 It is said, that he felt more resen tment on account of the charac ter of imbecility ad

judged to his father in “A bsalom and A chitophel,”

than for all the pungent satire, there and in theMedal,

” bestowed upon his grandfather ; an ad

He u su ally disti ngu ishes D ryden by his Reh earsal ” ti tleof Bayes ; and, amon g man y other obl iqu e expression s ofmalevolen ce, he has th i s n ote To see the in corr igiblen essof ou r poets in their pedan tic man n er, their van i ty, d efi anceof cri tic i sm, the ir rhodomon tade, an d poetical bravado, wen eed on ly tu rn to our famou s poet lau reat, (the very Mr

B ayes h imself,) in on e of h is latest an d most valu ed pieces,wr i t man y years after the ingen iou s au thor of the Re

hearsal ’ had drawn h is pictu re. I have been l i sten ing, (saysour poe t, in h is Preface to Don what obj ection shad been made again st the con du ct of the play, bu t fou ndth emal l so triv i al, that if I shou ld n ame them, a tru e cr i ticwou ld imagin e that I played booty . Some are pleased to saythe wr i t in g i s du l l ; bu t wtatemhabet, de se logua tur. Others,that the dou ble po i son i s u n n atu ral ; let the common receivedopinion , an d A u son iu s’s famou s epigram, an swer th at. L astly,a more ign oran t sort of creatu res than ei ther of the formermain tain , that the character of Dorax i s n ot on ly u n n atu ral ,bu t in con sisten twi th i tself ; let themread the play, and th inkagain . A longer reply i s what those cavi llers deserve n ot .Bu t I wi ll g ive them an d their fel lows to u n derstand , thatthe Earl of was pleased t o read the t rag edy twiceover before i t was acted, an d d id me the favou r to sen d meword, that I had wr i tten beyon d any of my former plays,and that h e was d i spleased any th ing shou ld be cu t away. IfI have n ot reason to prefer h is single ju dgmen t to awhol efact ion , let theworld be j u dge for the opposi tion i s the samewith that of L u can ’

s hero again st an army, concurrere belluma tque virum. I th ink I maymodestly con clu de,’ &c . Thu she goes on , t o the very en d, in the self- same strain . Who, afterthi s, can ever say of the Rehearsal ’ au thor, that h is p ictu reof our poet was overcharged, or the n at ion al humou r wrong

‘

descr ibed

2 18 LIFE or JOHN DRYDEN.

not in the plan, bu t in the power of execution . It

was easy to give Jewish titles to their heroes, butthe difliculty lay in drawing their characters withthe force and precision of their prototype. Buckingham himselfwas rash enough to engage in thisconflict ; but, whether his anger blunted his wit,or that his share in the Rehearsal was less eventhan what is generally supposed, he loses, by hisReflections on A bsalom and A chitophel,

” thec redi t we are disposed to allowhim for talent onthe score of that lively piece. l A n on - conformistclergyman published two pieces, which I havenever seen, on e entitled, A Whip for the Fool’sBack, who styles honourable Marriage a cursedconfinement, in his profane Poem of A bsalom andA chitophel ; the other, “A Key, with the Whip,t o open the Mystery and Iniquity of the Poemcalled A bsalom and A chitophel.” Little was tobe hoped or feared from poems hearing such ah

surd titles : I throw, however, into the note, thespecimen which Mr Malone has given of their contents.92 The reverend gentleman having announced,

1 See some extrac ts fromthese Reflection s, mDryden 's

Works, vol. ix. , p. 272.

3 Howwell this Hebrewnamewith sense do th sou nd,A fool

’: my brother, 3 tho ugh in wit pro fo u nd !

Mostwicked wi ts are the devil’s chiefest tools,W hich, ever in the issu e. God befoo ls.Can thy compare, vi le varlet, once hold tru e,Of the loyal lord , and this d isloyal JewWas e ’er ou r English earl u nder d isgrace,A nd, as u nconscionable, pu t ou t ofplace

Add ,mybrother, and tophel, a (ooh—Orig .Note .


t hat A chitophel, in Hebrew, means the brotherof a fool,

” Dryden retorted with infinite coolness,that in that case the author of the discovery mightpass with his readers for next a-kin, and that itwas probably the relation which made the kindn ess .

TheMedal was answered by the same authorswho replied to A bsalom and A chitophel,

” as ifthe Whigs had taken in sober earnest the advicewhich Dryden bestowed on them in the preface tothat satire. A nd moreover (as be there expresslyrecommends) they railed at himabundantly, withou t a glimmering Of wit to enliven their scurrility.

Hickeringill, a crazy fanatic, began the attack witha sort of mad poem, called the The Mushroom .

”

It waswritten and sent to press the very day onwhich The Medal ” appeared ; a circumstanceon which the author valued himself so highly, as toascribe it to divine inspiration .

‘ W ith more labour,and equal issue, Samu el Pordage, a minor poet ofthe day, produ ced The Medal Reversed for

which,and his former aggression, Dryden brands

Hath'

he laid lurking in his cou ntry.house

T o plo t rebell ion s, as one fac t ionsThy bog . trot bloodhoun ds hu n ted have this stag,Yet cannot fasten their fou l fangs ,—they flag .

Why d idst not thou bri ng in thy ev idenceW ith them, to recti fy the brave j u ry's sense,A nd so preven t the ignoramusP- nay,

Thou wast cock- su re he wou ld be damn ’d for aye,W i thou t thy presen ce —tho u wast then emp loy'

d

To brand him'

gain st he came to be des troy’d

'Forehand preparing for the hangman ’s axe,Had n o t the W i t nesses been found so lax.

”

xDryden ’s Works, vol. ix. , p. 452


him, in a single line of the Second Part of A bsa10mand A chitophel,” as

Lame Meph ibosheth, the W iz ard’s l son .

”

There also appeared The Loyal Medal Vindi~

cated,” and a piece entitled Dryden’s Satire to

his Muse,” imputed to Lord Somers, but which, in

conversation with Pope, he positively di savowed .

A ll these, and many other pieces, the frui ts Of

incensed and ahnost frantic party fury, are markedby the most coarse and virulent abuse. The eventsin our author’s life were few, and his morals, gene

1 Hewas th e son ofDr John Pordage,min i ster of Bradfield,expelled his charge for in su fficien cy in the year 1646. Amongo ther charges agains t h imwere the fol lowing, wh ich , ex trap

ord in ary as they are, he does not seemto have d en i edThat he hath very frequ en t an d famil i ar con versewi th

ange l s.That a great d ragon came in to his chamberwi th a tail of

e ight yard s long, fou r great teeth , an d d id spi t fire at him;and that he con ten ded wi th the dragon .

That his own angel came an d stood by himwh i le he wasexpostu lat ing wi th the dragon ; an d the angel came in hisown shape an d fash ion , the same cloth es, ban ds, and cu ffs, thesame bandstrings and that h is an gel stood by himand up.

held him.

That Mrs Pordage an d Mrs Plavcl had th eir angel sstan d ing by themalso, Mrs Pordage sing ing sweetly, an d

keeping t ime u pon her breast ; and that h i s chi ldren saw thespiri ts coming in to the hou se, and said, Look there, fath er ;an d that the spiri ts d id after come in to the chamber, and

d rew th e cu rtain s when they were in bed.

That th e said Mr Pordage con fessed , that a strong en

chan tmen t was u pon him, and that th e dev il d id appear toh imin the shape of Everard, an d in the shape of a fiery dragon and the whole roof of the hou se was fu ll of sp iri ts."


Dryden to exert the power of his satire, and likethe blast of the northern wind, to sweep away atonce these clamorous and bu sy, though ineffectualassailants . Two, in particular, claimed distinctionfrom the nameless crowd Settle, Dryden

’s an

cient foe, and Shadwell, who had been originally adubious friend.

Of Dryden’s controversy with Settle we havealready spoken fully but we may here add

,that

,

in addition to former offences of a publi c andprivate nature, Elkanah, in the prologue to theEmpress of Morocco,

” acted in March, 1681 - 2,

had treated Dryden with great irreverence .‘ Shadwell had been for some time in good habits withDryden ; yet an early di fference of taste and praetice in comedy, not only exi sted between them, bu t

was the subject of reciprocal debate, and somethingapproaching to rivalry. Dryden, as we have seen,had avowed his preference of lively dialogue in

Theirwu rmuri ng small tromnet ts sown de winde,Whiles in the sire the ir clustrmg army fi les,That as a clo ud doth seeme to d imthe skies ;Noman nor beastmay rest or take repastFor their sharpewo un ds and noyou s i nj uries,T ill the fierce northern windwith hlust ring blastD o th blowthemqu ite away, an d in the ocean east."

1 Howfinelywou ld the sparks be caught to-day,

Shou ld a Whig poetwri te a Tory play,A nd you ,

possessed wrth rage before, shou ld sendYour randomsho t abroad andmau l a friend !For you , we fi nd, too often hiss and c lap,Ju st as you l ive, speak, tln nk, and li ght—by hap.A nd poets, we all kn ow, can change, like you ,A nd are alone to their own in terest tru e ;C an write against al l sense, nay even their ownT he vehi cle calledp emion makes it down .

Nofeqr of cudgels,where there's hope of bread ;Awell-tilled paunch forgets a broken head."


comedy to delineation of character ; or, in otherwords, ofwit and repartee to whatwas then calledhumou r . On this subject Shadwell early differedfrom the laureat. Conscious of considerable powersin observing nature, while he was deficient in thatliveliness of fancy which is nece ssary to producevivacity of dialogue, Shadwell affected, or perhapsentertained, a profound veneration for the memoryof Ben Jonson, and proposed himas his model inthe representation of such characters as were tobe marked by humou r, or an afl

'

ectat ion of singularity of manners, speech, and behav iour . Dryden,on the other hand, was no great admirer either ofJonson’s plays in general, or of the lowand coarsecharacters of v ice and folly, in describing whichlay his chief excellency ; and this opinion he hadpublicly intimated in the Essay of DramaticPoesy.

” In the preface to the very first of Shadwell’s plays, printed in 1 668, he takes occasionbitterly, and with a direct application to Dryden,to assail the grounds of this criticism, and thecomedies of the author who had made it.‘ If thi s

I qu ote the passage at length , as evincing the d ifferen cebetween Dryden ’s taste in comedy an d that of Shadwell

l have en deavou red to represen t variety of humou rs (mostof the person s of th e play d iffering in their characters fromon e an other) , wh ich was the pract ice of Ben Jon son ,whom Ith ink al l dramat ick poets ou gh t to imi tate, thou gh n on e arelike to come n ear he being the on ely person that appears tomet o havemade perfect represen tation of h uman l ife mos t otherau thors that I ever read , either have wild roman t ick tales,wherein they strain love an d hon ou r to that r id icu lou s height,that i t becomes bu rlesqu e ; or in their lower comed ies con ten tthemselveswi th on e or two humou rs atmost, and those n ot


petulance produced any animosity, it was no t lasts

ing ; for, in the course of their controversy, Drydenappeals to Shadwell, whether he had not rather

n ear so perfect charac ters as the admirable Jonson alwaysmade, who n ever wro te comedy wi thou t seven or eigh t considerable humours. I n ever sawon e, except that of Falstafl

'

e,

t hatwas, in my j udgmen t, comparable to any ofJon son's con

s iderable humou rs. You will pardon thi s d igress ion when It el l you , he i s theman , of all the world , I most pass ion atelyadmire for h is excellen cy in d ramat ick poetry.

Thou gh I have known some of late so insolent to say, thatBen Jon son wrote h is best playeswi thou twi t, imagin ing, thatal l the wit playes con si sted in bring ing two person s u pon th estage to break j est, and to bob one another, wh ich they cal lrepart ie, n ot con sidering, that there ismorewit and in ven tionrequi red in the fin d ing ou t good humour an d ma tter properfor i t, then in all their smart repart i es : for, in the wr i tingof a humou r, aman is con fin ed n ot to swerve from the character, and obl iged to say n oth ing bu t what i s proper to i t ;bu t in the playes wh ich have been wrote of late, there is n osu ch th ing as perfect character, bu t the two ch ief person s aremost common ly a swear ing, drinking, whor ing rnfiian for alover, and impu den t, ill- bred tomrig for amistress, an d theseare the fi ne people of the play ; and there is that lat itud e inth is, that almost any th ing i s proper for themto say ; bu ttheir ch ief su bj ect i s bawdy, an d profan en ess, wh ich they callbri sk wri ting, when the most d i ssolu te of men , that rem?those thi ngswell enough in private, are choked at ’emin pal ick ; and ,meth inks, if therewere n oth ing bu t the illmann ersof i t, i t should make poets avo id that indecen t way of writing.

”—Preface to the Sullen L overs.

L est th i s provocation shou ld be in su fficien t, th e Prologu e ofthe same p iece has a fli ng at heroic plays. The poe t says hehas

No kin d roman tic lover in his playTo sigh and wh i ne ou t passion , as theymayCharmwaiting-women W i th hero ic chime,A nd sti ll resolve to l ive and di e in rhyme ;Such as your earswith love and honou r feast,A nd play at crambo for three hours at least ;


play of the True Widow ; but to write theseoccasional pieces was part of his profession, andthe circumstance does not prove that the breachbetween these rivals for public applause was everthoroughly healed ; on the contrary, it seems likely,that, in the case of Shadwell, as in that of Settle,political hatred only gangrened a wound inflictedby literary rivalry. A fte r their quarrel becamedesperate, Dryden resumed his prologu e, and

adapted it to a play by A fra Behn, called theWidow Ren ter, or Bacon in Virginia.

” Whatever was the progress of the dispute, it is certainthat Shadwell, as zealously attached to the Whigfaction as Dryden to the Tories, buckled on his

armour among their other poetasters to encounterthe champion of royalty. His answer to The

Medal ” is entitled The Medal of John Bayes z”

it appeared in autumn 1681 , and is distingui shedby scurrility, even among the scurrilous lampoonsof Settle, Care, and Pordage. Those,

” he coollysays

,who know Dryden, know there is not an

untrue word spoke of himin the poem ; althoughhe is there charged with the most gross and infamous crimes. Shadwell also seems to have had ashare in a lampoon, entitled The Tory Poets,

”

in which both Dryden and Otway were grosslyreviled.

2 On both occasions, his satire was as

Dryden ’s Works, vol. x . , p. 343.

i The laurelmakes a n u t ; a brave, the sword ;A nd all are W i semen at a Cou n cil-boardSettle ’s a coward, ’

cau se fool Otway fou ght him,A nd Mulgrave is a.Wi t, becau se Itaught him.

"

The Tory Poets, 4to, 1682.


clumsy as his overgrown person, and as brutallycoarse as his conversat ion : for Shadwell resembledBen Jonson in his vulgar and intemperate pleasures, as well as in his style of comedy and corpu

lence of body.

1 Dryden seems to have thought,that such reiterat ed attacks, from a contemporaryof some eminence, whom he had once called friend,merited a more severe castigation than could beadministered in a general satire. He therefore

Jon son i s d escr ibed as wearing a loose coachman ’s coat,fre qu en t ing the Mermaid tavern , where be drun k seas ofC an ary, th en reel ing home to bed, and, after a profu se per.spirat ion , ari sing to h is d ramatic stu d i es . Shadwell appears,fromthe sl ight traits wh ich remain concern ing him, to havefollowed , as closely as possible, the same cou rse of pleasurean d of stu dy. He was bru tal in hi s conversation , an d mu chadd icted to the u se of opium, to which, indeed, he i s saidfi n ally to have fallen a v ict im.

I observe, the ingen iou s ed itor of the late excellen t ed i t iono f Jon son ’s Works, expresses some in d ign ation at the chargebrough t again st that emin en t au thor in th i s n ote, and den iest he au thor i ty of the letter-wr i ter,who characteri ses Jon son asi n dulging in vulgar excess. Fewmen have more sincereadmiration for Jon son ’

a talen ts than the presen t wri ter. Bu tsu rely that coarsen ess of taste, wh ich tain ted h i s powerfulmin d, i s proved fromh i s wri tings. Man y au thors of thatage are in decen t, bu t Jon son i s fi lthy and gross in his pleasan try, an d in du lges h imself in u sing the langu age of scaveng ers and n igh t-men . H is Bartholomew- fair furn i shes manyexamples of th i s un happy pred ilection , an d his Famou sVoyage” seems to have d i sgu sted even the z ea l of h is ed i tor.B u t, in marking these fau l ts, Iwas far frommean ing to assailthe well- earn ed repu tation of Rare Ben Jon son ,

” whocou ld well afford to be gu i lty of these sin s again st d ecorum,

wh i le hiswr i tings afford so strong an d mascu l in e a supportt o the cau se of virtu e an d rel ig ion . [S ir Wal ter Scott argu est h is qu est ion wi th Mr Gifford more at length in his Essay onHawthornden, in the Provincial


composed Mac-Flecknoe, or a Satire on the TrueBlu e Protestant Poet, T. S ., by the author of

A bsalomand A chitophel,”whichwas published 4thO ctober, 1682. Richard Fleckn oe, from whomthe piece takes its title, was so distinguished as a

wret ched poet, that his name had become almostproverbial . Shadwell is represented as the adoptedson of this venerable monarch, who so long

In prose and verse was cwn ’d wi thou t d ispu te,Through all the realms ofNon sen se absolu te .”

The solemn inauguration of Shadwell as his su ccessor in this drowsy kingdom, forms the plan ofthe poem ; being the same which Pope afterwardsadopted on a broader canvass for his Dunciad .

”

The vices an d folli es of Shadwell are not concealed,while the awkwardness of his pretensions to poetical fame are held up to the keenest ridi cule. In anevil hour, leaving the composition of lowcomedy,in which he held an honourable station, he advent in'ed upon the composition of operas and pastorals.On these the satirist falls withou t mercy and ridicules, at the same time, his pretensions to copyBen Jonson :

Nor let false fri end s sedu ce thymind to fame,By arrogating Jon son

’s hosti le n ame ;L et father Flecknoe fire thymin d wi th pra i se,A n d u n cle Ogleby thy en vy raise .Thou artmy blood, where Jon son has no partWhat share have we in n atu re or in art ?W'here d id h i swit on learn ing fix a brand,A n d rai l at arts he d id n ot u n derstand ?\ Vheremade h e love in Pr ince Nican der’s ’ vein ,

Or swept the du st in Psyche’s ’~humble strain ?”


book, and contributed about two hundred lines.The body of the poem was written by Nahum '

Tate, one of those second - rate bards, who, by dintof pleonasm and expletive, can find smooth lines ifany one will supply them with ideas . The SecondPart of A bsalom and A chitophel ” is, however,much beyond his usual pitch, and exhibits cous iderable marks of a careful revision by Dryden,e specially in the satirical passages ; for the eulogyon the Tory chiefs is in the flat and feeble strainof Tate himself, as is obv ious when it is comparedwith the description of ‘ the Green-D ragon Club,the character of Corah, and other passages exhibiting marks of Dryden

’s hand.

But if the Second Part of A bsalom and A chitophel” fell below the First in its general tone, thecelebrated passage inserted by Dryden possessedeven a double portion of the original sp irit. The

v ictims whom he selected ou t of the partisansof Monmouth and Shaftesbury for his own particular severity, were Robert Ferguson, afterwardswell known by the name of the Plotter ; Forbes ;Johnson, author of the parallel between James,Duke of York, and Julian the A postate ; but,above all, Settle and Shadwell, l whom, under then ames of Doeg and 0g, he has depicted in theliveliest colours his poignant satire could afi

'

ord.

Three of the characters in Tate’s secon d part of A bsaloman d Ach i tophel are of Dryden ’s wri t ing, an d are al l excelleu tly wel l wri t ; that of J u l ian John son , u n der the n ameo f Ben ; Tochan nan Shadwel l, u nder the n ame of 0g ; an dSettle, u nder that of Doeg.

”—Locxxsaf—Sp en ce’s A necdotes,(Malone,) p . l l l . ]


They who have patience to look into the lampoonswhich these worthies had published against Dryden, will , in reading his retort, be reminded of the

combats between the giants and kn ights of romance.H is antagonists came on with infinite zeal and fury,discharged their ill- aimed blows on every side, andexhausted their strength in violent and ineffect ualrage . But the keen and trenchant blade of Drydenn ever makes a thrust in vain, and never strikesbut at a vulnerable point. Thi s we have elsewher eremarked is a pe culiar attribute of his satire andit is difficult for one assailed on a single ludicrousfoible, to make good his respectability, thoughpossessed of a thousand valuable qualities ; as it

It i s n o incon siderable part of the mer i t of Mac

Fleckn oe,' that i t led the way to the Dunc iad yet,wh i le we

acknowledge the more copiou s and var iegated flowof Pope’ssatire, wemus t not forget, that, indepen den t of themeri t oforigin al i ty, always in est imable, Dryden

’s poemclaims thatof a close, and more compact fable, of a single and u n d i sturbedaim. Pope’s rid icu le an d sarcasmi s scattered so wide, and

among su ch a number of au thors, that i t resembles smal l shotd ischarged at ran domamong a crowd wh ile that of Dryden ,

l ike a single wel l- d irected bu l let, prostrates the ind ividu alobj ec t again st whomi t was d irected . Besides , the reader isapt to sympath iz ewi th the degree of the sat iri st

’s provocat ion,

wh ich in Dryden ’s case can n ot be d i spu ted ; whereas P0pesometimes con fou nd s those, fromwhomhe had received grossinc ivil ity, wi th others who had given himn o offence, and

wi th some whose characters were above his accu sation . To

posterity, the Mac-Flecknoe ’ possesses a dec ided superior i tyover the f Dun ciad.’ for a very fewfacts make u s mas ter ofthe argumen t ; wh ile that of the latter poem, excepting theS ixth Book,where the satire i smore gen eral, requ ires a n oteat every ten th l in e to render i t even in tell igible.”—Not¢ s,D ryden ’s Works, vol. x. , p.


was impossible for A chilles, invulnerable every;

where else, to survive the wound which a dexterous archer had aimed at his heel. With regardto Settle, there is a contempt in Dryden

’s satirewhi ch approaches ahn ost to good- humour, andplainly shows how far our poet was now fromentertaining those apprehensions of rivalship,whichcertainly dictated his portion of the Remarks on

the Empress of Morocco.

” Settle had nowfoundhis level, and Dryden no longer regarded himwith a mixture of rage and apprehension, but withmore appropriate feelings of utter contempt. Thispoor Wight had acqu ired by practice, and perhapsfrom nature, more of a poetical ear than most ofhis contemporaries were gifted with. His blundering melody,

” as Dryden terms it, i s far sweeterto the ear than the flat and ineffectual couplets ofTate nor are his verses always destitu te of something approaching to poetic fancy and spirit. Hecertainly, in his transposition of A bsalom and

A chitophel,” mimicked the harmony of his original

with more success than was attained by Shadwell,Buckingham, or Pordage .

l But in thi s facility of

versificat ion all his merit began and ended ; in ourauthor’s phrase,

Doeg, though wi thou t kn owing howor why,Mad e stil l a blu n dering kin d ofmelody ;Spu rr

’d boldly on , and dashed through th ick and th in,Throu gh sen se and n on sen se, n ever ou t n or in ;Free fromallmean ing, whether good or bad,A nd, in on e word, hero icallymad.

1 See some specimens of these poems, inDryden's Works, vol ix.,p. 576.


patron Shaftesbury was graduallybecoming weaker,

fairly abandoned himto his fate, and read a solemnrecantation of his political errors in a narrativepublished in 1683. The truth seems to be, thathonest Doeg was poet laureat to the city, andearned some emolument by composing verses forpageants and other occasions of civi c festivity so

that when the Tory interest resumed its ascendencyamong the magistrates, he had probably no alternative but to relinquish his principles or his post, andElkanah, like many greater men, held the formerthe easier sacrifice. Like all converts, he becameoutrageous in his new faith, wrote a libel on Lo rdRussell a few days after his execution ; indited apanegyric on Judge Jefferies ; and, being tamMarte quamMercu rio, actu ally joined as a trooperthe army which King James encamped uponHounslow Heath . A fter the Revolution, he isenumerated, with our author and Tate, amongthose poets whose strains had been stifled by thatgreat event. 1 He continued, however, to be the

termed to-day by th e same person s, a. Cowley, a man of

honour, an hero, an d a z ealou s u pholder of the Protestan tcau se and in terest.”

In the Del iveran ce, an address to the Pr ince of Orange,pub li shed abou t 9 th Febru ary, 1689

A las ! the famou s Settle, Du rfey, Tate,That early propp ’d the deep i n trigu es of state,Du ll Whigg ish lines the world cou ld n e ’er applaud,While your swift gen ius d id appear abroad :A nd thou , great Bayes,whose ye t u nconqu er’d penWrotewith strange force aswell of beasts asmen,W hose n oble gen i u s grieved fromafar,Becau se newworlds for Bayes d id not appear,Nowto con tendwi th the ambitiou s elf,Begins a civil war against himself,” &c.


"

c ity- laureat ; 1 but, in despite of that provision, wasreduced by want to write plays, like Ben Jonson

’

s

L ittlewit, for the profane motions, or puppetshows, of Smithfield and Bartholomew fairs . Nay,having proceeded thus far in exhibiting the truth ofDryden’s prediction, he actually mounted the stagein person among these wooden performers, andcombated St George for England in a green dra

gon of his own proper device . Settle was admittedinto the Charter -House in his old age, and diedthere in 1723. The lines of Pope on poor Elkan ab’s fate are familiar to every poetical reader

In L u d’s old wal ls though long I ru led, renown

’

d.

Far as loud Bow’s s tu pen dou s bell s resou n d ;Thoughmy own aldermen con ferr

’d the bays,

To me commi tt ing their etern al praise,Their fu l l- fed heroes, their pac ificmayors,Their an n u al troph ies, an d theirmon th ly wars ;Thou gh longmy party bu i l t on me their hopes,For wr i ting pamph lets, an d for roasting popes ;Yet 10 ! in me what au thors have to brag on !Reduced at last to h i ss in my own dragon .

A vert i t, heaven ! that thou , or C ibber, e’erShou ldwag a serpen t- ta i l in Smi thfi eld fair !L ike the v i le straw that’s blown abou t the streets,The n eedy poet sticks to al l hemeets ;Coach

’d, carted, trod u pon , n ow loose, n ow fast,

An d carr ied off in some dog’s tail at las t. ”

1 In 1702, probably in the capacity of civic- laureat, hewrote Car

men Iremcum,

"u pon the u n ion of the two East India compan ies ; and

long afterward, in 1717, he is mentioned by Denni s as still the ci typ oet.3 [The cu rious reader is referred, for various particu lars abou t

Settle, to Nichol’s L iterary A necdo tes of the 18th Century, vol. i. ,

p . &0. Hewas en tered of Trin ity College, Oxon ,in 1665, bu t left

the Un ivers i tyWi thou t a degree ; and having, acc ording to G i ldon.profi igately squandered a fair fortune, betook himself to poetry, as


A s Dryden was probably more apprehensive of

Shadwell, who, though a worse poet than Settle,

themeans of gain ing bread. We owe to Mr D ’lsraeli, the detectiono f Pope as the wri ter, when on ly in his 14th year, of a sat ire u pon‘S ettle, in clu ded in the firs t edi tion of L in tot ’s Miscellaneou s Poems.It is en ti tled To the au thor of the Snccessio," and beg ins,

Begone, ye critics, and restrain your spi teCodru : writes on , andwill for everwriteThe heaviestmu se the swiftest course has gone,A s clocks run fastestwhen the lead 18 on,

”ac.

Mr D ’ i srae li says : The j uven i le composition bears the marks of

Pope ’s fu ture excellences ; i t has the tu n e of his verse, and the

images of hiswit. Thirty years afterwards, when occu pied by theD uucu n, he transplan ted and prun ed agai n some of the originalimages.

The hero of this satire is Erastu s Sm u t. The subj ect is one ofthose Whig Poems, designed to celebrate the happiness of an u ni n

terru p ted Su ccession in the Crown , at the time the A ct of Settlemen t passed, which tran sferred i t to the Hanoverian l ine. The rhimerand his theme, were equally con temptible to the j uven ile Jacobitepoet .

The hoarse and voluminous Codru s of Juvenal aptly designatesthis eternal verse-maker,—one who has wri tten with su ch constan tc opiou sn ess, that no bibliographer has presumed to forma completel ist of hisworks.When Settle had ou tlived his temporary rivalshipwith Dryden ,

andwas reduced tomere Settle, he published party- poems, in fo lio ,

composed in Latin , accompanied by his own translati ons. These fol i opoems, u n iformlybound. except that the arms ofhis patron s, or ratherhis pu rchasers, ri chly g i lt, emblaz on the blackmorocco,may sti ll befound. These presen tati on copies were sen t round to the chi efs ofthe party,with amend ican t ’s petition, ofwhi ch some still exist. To

have a clear conception of the p resen t views of some pol i ticians, i t isn ecessary to read the ir history backwards. In 1702, when Settle published Su ccessio,

" he mu st have been a Whig. In 1685 hewas aTory, commemorating, by an heroic poem, the coronation ofJames IL,

an dwriting peri od ically against theWhigs. In 1680, he had left theT ories for the Whigs, and conducted the wholemanagemen t of burni ng the Pope, then a very so lemn national ceremony.

Settle, in his latter state ofwretchedness, had one standard elegyand ep itlzalamiumprin ted offwith blanks. By the ingen i ous contri.Vance of inserting the name of any considerable person who d i ed, or

wasmarried, n o onewho had gone ou t of thewofl d , orwas en teringi n to i t , bu t was equ allywelcome, to this d inn erless liveryman of the

d raggle- tai led Mu ses. I have elsewhere n oticed his last exit fromt his state of poetry and of pauperi sm when, leaping in to agreen drai


Fleckn oe,”all of a similar tone , and rapidly suc

ceeding each other, gave to Dryden, hitherto chieflyknown as a drama tist, the formidable character ofan inimitable satirist,we may here pause to considertheir effect upon English poe try. The witty BishopHall had first introduced into our literature thatspec ies of poetry ; which, though its legitimate usebe to check vi ce and expose folly, is so often appliedby spleen or by faction to destroy domestic happiness, by assail ing private character. Hall possesseda good ear for harmony ; and, living in the reign ofElizabeth, might have studied it in Spenser, Fairfax, and other models . But from syst em, ratherthan ignorance or inability, he chose to be hardof conceit, and harsh of style,

” in order that hispoetry might correspond with the sharp, sour, andcrabbed nature of his theme. l Donne,his successor,Was still more rugged in his versificat ion, as wellas more obscure in his conceptions and allu sions .The satires of Cleveland (as we have indeed formerly noticed) are, if possible, still harsher andmore strained in expression than those of Donne.Butler can hardly be quoted as an example of thesort of satire we are treating of. Hudibras i sa burlesque tale, in whi ch the measure is intsu

I in fer, that thewan t of harmon y was in ten tional, fromthese expression s It i s n ot for every on e to rel ish a tru eand n atu ral satire ; being of i tself, besides the n atu re and inbred bi ttern ess and tartn ess of part icu lars, both hard of con

ceit an d harsh of style, and therefore can not bu t be u n pleas ingboth to the u n sk i lfu l and over-mu sical ear ; the on e be ingaffec ted wi th on ly a shallowan d easy, the other wi th a smoothand curren t

,d i sposi tion .

”—Postscrip t to Ha rm’s Satires.

LIFE or JOHN DRYDEN. 239 ‘

tionally and studiously rendered as ludicrous as

the characters and incidents. Oldham, who flou

rished in Dryden’s time, and enjoyed his friend

ship, wrote his satires in the crabbed tone ofCleveland and Donne . Dryden, in the copy of

verses dedicated to his memory, alludes to thisdeficiency, and seems to admit the subject as an

apology

0 early r ipe to thy abu ndan t storeWhat coul d advan cing age have addedmore !It might (what n atu re n ever g ives the you ng)H ave taught the n umbers of thy n ative tongu e.B u t satire n eed s n ot those, and wit wi ll sh in eThrough the harsh cadence of a rugged l in e.

”

Yet the apology which he admitted for Oldham,

Dryden disdained to make use of himself. He didnot , as has been said of Horace, wilfully untune hisharp when he commenced satirist. A ware that awound may be given more deeply with a burnishedthan with a ru sty blade, he bestowed upon theversificat ion of his satires the same pains which hehad given to his rhyming plays and serious poems .He did not, indeed, for that would have been painsmisapplied, attempt to smooth his verses into theharmony of those in whi ch he occas ionally celebrates female beau ty ; but he gave them var iedtone, correct rhyme, and masculine energy, all

which had hitherto been strangers to the Englishsatire. Thus,while Dryden

’s style resembled thatof Ju venal rather than Horace, he may claimasuperiority, for uniform and undeviating dignity,over the Roman satirist. The age, who se appetite

240 u rn OF JOHN DRYDEN.

for scandal had been profusely fed by lampoons andn

libels, now learned that there was a more elevatedkind of satire, i n which poignancy might be unitedwi th elegance, and energy of thought with harmonyof versificat ion . The example seems to have produ ced a strong effect . No poet, not even Sett le,(for even theworst artist will improve from beholding a masterpiece,) afterwards conceived he hadsuffi ciently accomplished his task by present ing tothe public, thoughts, however witty or caustic hemight deem them, clothed in the hobbling measureof Donn e or Cleveland ; and expression and harmony began to be consulted, in satire, as well assarcastic humour or powerful illustration.

“Mac-Flecknoe,” in some degree, differs from

the other satires which Dryden published at thistime . It is not confined to the description of

character, but exhibits an imaginary course of

incidents, in which the principal personage takesa ludicrou s share . In this it resembles Hudibras and both are quoted by Dryden himselfas examples of the Varronian satire . But therewas this pointed difference, that Butler

’s poem isburlesque, and Dryden

’s mock- heroic. blacFlecknoe

” is, I rather believe, the first poem in

the English language, in whi ch the dignity of aharmoniz ed and lofty style is employed, not onlyto excite pleasure in itself, but to increase, bycontrast, the comic effect of the scenes which itnarrates ; the subject being ludicrous, while theverse is noble .

‘

The models of satire afforded byDryden, as they have never been equalled by any


the prologues and epilogues, which then served asa sort of moral to the plays, the veil, thin as itwas,was completely raised, and the political analogiespo inted ou t to such of the audience as might otherwise have been too dull to apprehend them. Inthis sharp though petty war, Dryden bore a cousiderable share. H is necessit ies obliged him,

amongother modes of increasing his income, to accept ofa small pecuniary tribute for fu rnishing prologueson remarkable occas ions, or for n ew plays ; andhis principles determin ed their tendency.

l Butthis was not all the support which his party ex

pected, andwhich be afforded them on the theatre,even while labouring in their service in a differentdepartment.When Dryden had but just finished his “Re

ligio L az’

ci,” Lee, who had assisted in the play of

(Edipus,” claimed Dryden’s promise to requite

the obligation. It has been already noticed, thatDryden had, in the year succeeding the Restora

tion, designed a play on the subj ect of the Dukeof Gu ise ; and he has informed us he had preservedone or two of the scenes. These, therefore, wererevised, and inserted in the new play, of whichDryden wrote the first scene, the whole fourthact, and great part of the fifth. Lee composedthe rest of the Duke of Guise . The general

express comman d, imi tated from the Span i sh , the fu riou sTory is r id icu led in the character of Hothead, as well as thefan at ical Whig u nder that of Testimony.

1 See the Prologu es an d Epilogu es in Dryden ’s Works,vol. 1 . part icularly those on pages 352, 358, 368, 370.


p arallel between the Leag ue in France and theCovenant in England, was too obvious to e scape

early notice ; but the return of Monmouth toEngland, against the king

's express command, ino rder to head the opposition, perhaps the insu rrec.tion, ofLondon, presented a still closera nalogy tothe entry of the Duke of Guise into Paris, undersimilar circumstances, on the famous day of thebarricades . Of this remarkable incident, the unitedauthors of the Duke of Guise” naturally availedthemselves though with such precaution, thatalmost the very expressions of the scen e are takenfrom the prose of Davilla. Yet the plot, thoughcapable of an application so favourable for theroyal party, contained circumstances of offence toit . . If the parallel between Guise and Monmouthwas on the one hand felicitous, as pointing ou t thenatu re of the duke’s designs, the moralwas revolting, as seeming . to recommend the assassinationof Charles

’s favourite son . The king also lovedMonmouth to the very last ; and was slow andreluctant in permitting his character to .be placedin a criminal or odious point of view.

1 The play,

therefore, though ready for exhibition before midsummer, 1682, remained in the hands of A rlington,the lord chamberlain, for two months, without beinglicensed for representation. But dur ing that time

l The concealed partial ity of Charles .towards Monmou th

surv ived even the d iscovery of the Rye-Hou se plot. He cou ldn ot d i ssemble h is satisfaction u pon seeing himafter his su r.r en der, and pressed h is hand affect ion ately.—SeeMonmou th’s

’


the scene darkened. The king had so far suppress‘

ed his tenderness for Monmouth, as to authoriz ehis arrest at S tafford and the influence of the

Duke of York at court became daily more predominant. Among other evident tokens that nomeasures were hencef

'

orward to be kept betweenthe king and Monmouth, the representation of theDuke of Guise”was at length authorized.

The two companies lof players, after a long '

and

expensive warfare, had now united their forces ;on which occas ion Dryden furnished themwitha prologue, full of violent Tory principles. Bythis united compan y The Duke of Gu ise waspe rformed on the 30th December, 1682. It Was

prin ted,with a dedication to Hyde, Earl of Rochester, subscribed by both authors, but eviden tly thework of Dryden. It is writt en in a tone ofd efianceto the Whig authors,who had assailed the dedica~tors, it alleges, like footpads in the dark,

” thoughtheir blows had don e little harm, and the objects oftheir mali ce yet lived to vindi cate their lo

'

yalty‘

in

open day. The play itself has 'as 'determined a

political character as the dedication. B esides thegeneral parallel between the 'leaguers and the fanatical sectaries, and the more deli cate, though not

less striking connexion between the story of Guiseand of Monmouth, there are other collateral allusions in the piece to the history of that unfortunatenobleman, and to the state of parties. The wholecharact er ofMarmou t iere, high - spirited, loyal, andexerting all her influence to deter 'Guise from the

prosecution of his dangerous sohemesworresponds

246'

LIFE or“

JOHN DRYDEN.

Duchess ofMonmouth,Dryden’s especial patroness:

A nother more obvious and more offensive parallel.existed between the popular party in the city,with

'

the Whig sheriffs at their head, and that of the

Eckevz'

ns, or sherifi'

s of Paris, violent demagoguesand adherents to the League, andwho, in the play,are treated with

' great contumely by Grillon and

the royal guards . The tumults which had takenplace at the election of these magistrates werewarmin the recollection of the city ; and the commitment of the ex - sherifl

'

s, Shute and Pilkington,to the Tower, under pretext of a riot, was consi

dered as the bu tt of the poet’s satire. Under theseimpressions the Whigs made a violent oppositionto the representation of the piece, even when theking gave it his personal countenance . A nd althoughin despite of them, The Duke of Guise so far

succeeded, as to be frequently acted, and neverwi thout a considerable attendance,

” we may conclude from these qualified expressions of the authorhimself, that the playwas never eminently popular .He who writes for a party, can only please at mostone half of his audience.It was not to be expected that, at a time so very

critical, a publi c representation, including such boldallusions, or rather parallels, should pass withoutcritical censure. The Duke of Guise” was attacked by Dryden’s old foe Shadwell, in some

'

verses,entitled, A Lenten Prologue refused by

the Players ;”l and more formally, in Reflections

1 Bough t byMr Lu ttrell, 1 1th April, 1 683. See i t, Dryden ’

s

Works, vol. x., p . 131 . I t is expressly levelled again st the


on the pretended Parallel in the Play called theDuke of Guise.

” In this pamphlet Shadwell seems .

to have been assisted by a gentleman of the Temple,50 zealous for the popular cause, that Dryden sayshe was detected disguised in a livery- gown, proffering his vote at the Common- hall. Thomas ,

Hunt, a barrister,‘ likewise stepped forth on thi soccasion ; and in his Defence of the Charter of

L ondOn ,

” then challenged by the famous process of

Qua Warranto, he accuses Dryden of having prepared the way for that arbitrary step, by the degrading representation of their magistrates executedm

,

cfligyupon the stage . Dryden thought these pam

phlets of consequence enough to deserve an answer,and published, soon after, The Vindi cation of theDuke of Guise .

” In perus ing the controversy, wemay admire two circumstances, eminently characteristic of the candour with which such controverq

sies are usu ally maintained : First, the anxiety»

with which the critics labour to fix upon Drydena di srespectful parallel between Charles I I. andHenry I I . of France, which certainly our authordid not propose to carry farther than their common point of situation , and secondly, the labourwith whi ch he disavows what he unquestionablydid intend, —a parallel between the rebellious conduct ofMonmouth and of Gui se . The Vindication

Duke of Gu i se, an d gen erally again st Dryden as a cou rtpoet. I may, however, be wrong in ascribing i t to Shadwell.

'

1 I observe An thonyWood, aswell as Mr Malon e, suppose .

Hun t an d the Templar assoc iated in the Reflect ion s to be thesame person . Bu t in the Vin d icat ion of the Duk e ofShadwell and they are spoke of as three d i st in ct persons.


is Written in a tone of sovereign contempt for theadversaries, particularly for Shadwell. Speakingof Thomas Hunt, Dryden says,

Even thi s their celebrated wri ter knows nomore of style“and Engl i sh th an the Nort hern d ictator ; as if du ln ess andd umsinesswere fatal to the n ame of Tom. I t i s tru e, he i s afool in three langu agesmore than the poet ; for, they say, he

u nd erstan ds L atin , Greek , an d Hebrew,

’ fromall wh ich, tomy certain knowledge, I acqu i t the other. 0g may wri teagain st the k ing, if he pleases, so long as he drinks for him,

an d hi swr it in gswill n ever do the governmen t somu ch harm,

as his dr inking does i t good ; for tru e su bjects wi ll n ot bemu ch perverted by h i s l ibel s ; bu t th e win e- du ties r i se cou siderably by hi s claret. He has often called me an atheist inp rin t ; I wou ld bel ievemore char i tably of him, and that heon ly goes the broad way, becau se the other i s too n arrowforhim. Hemay see, by th i s, I do not d el igh t tomeddle wi th hiscou rse of l ife, an d his immoral i t ies, thou gh I have a lon gbead - roll of them. I have h i therto con ten tedmyselfwi th therid iculou s part of him, wh ich i s enough , in all con scien ce, toemploy on eman ; even wi thou t the story of h is late fall at theOld D evil, where he broke n o r ibs, becau se the h ardn ess ofthe sta irs cou ld reach n o bon es ; an d, for my part, I do n ot

won der howhe came to fall, for I have always kn own himheavy : themirac le i s, howhe got up again . I have heard of

a sea captain as fat as he,who, to escape arrests, wou ld layhimself flat u pon the grou n d, and let th e baili ffs carry himtoprison, if they could . If amessenger or two, nay,wemaypu tin three or fou r, shou ld come, he has friend ly advertismen thow to escape them. Bu t to leave him, who i s n ot worth anyfurther con sideration , n ow I have don e laugh ing at him,

wbul d everyman kn ew h is own talen t, an d that they,whoare on ly born for drin king, wou ld let both poetry and prosealon e !

This was the last distinct and prolonged animadversion which our author bestowed upon his cor

palen t antagonist.Soon after this time, Dryden wrote a biogra


A n taaus; they rise refreshed from a simple oversthrow. These sons of earth are never to betrusted in their mother element ; they must be.

hoisted into the air, and strangled. Thus exes

perated were the most gentle tempers in thosetimes

"

of doubt and peril. The rigorous toneadopted, confirms the opinion of those historianswho observe, that, after the discovery of the Ryeliou se Plot, Charles was fretted ou t of his usualdebonair ease, and became more morose and severethan had been hitherto thought consistent with hisdi sposition .

Thi s translation was to be the last service whichDryden was to render his good- humoured, selfish,and thoughtless patron. While the lau reat wasprepar ing for the stage the opera of Albion and

A lban iu s,” intended to solemnize the triumph of

Charles over theWhigs, or, as the author expressedit, the double restoration of his sacred majesty, the,

kin g died of an apoplexy upon the 6th February,

1684- 5. His death opened to many, and to Dryden among others, n ewhopes, and new prospects,which were, in his instance, doomed to terminatein disappointment and disgrace. We may therefore pause, and review the private life of the poetduring the period which has occupied our lastsections .The vigour and rapidity with which Dryden

poured forth his animated satire, plainly intimates,that his mind was pleased with the exercise of thatformidable power . It was more easy for him, he

has himself told us, to write with severity, than


with forbearance ; and indeed, where is the expertswordsman who does not delight in the flourish ofhis weapon ? Neither could this self- complacentfeeling be much allayed, by the vague and abusiveribaldry with which his satire was repaid. Thiswas . natural to the controversy, was n o morethan he expected, and was easily retorted withtreble interest. A s for knave,

” says he, andsycophant, and rascal, and impudent, and devil,and old serpent, and a thousand such good -morrows, I take them to be only names of parties ;and could return murderer, and cheat, and Whignapper, and sodomite ; and, in short, the goodlynumber of the seven deadly sins, with all theirkindred and relations, whi ch are names of partiestoo ; but saints will be saints, in spite of villany.

”

W ith such feelings, we may believe Dryden’s rest

was little disturbed by the litter of libels against

Son s of a day ju st bu oyan t on the flood,Then number’d wi th the pu ppies in themud.

Bu t he who keenly engages in political contro'

versy, must not only encounter the vulgar abuse,whi ch he may justly contemn, but the altered eye

of friends, whose regard is chilled, or alienated.

That Dryden sustained such misfortun e we cannotdoubt, when he informs us, that, ou t of the largeparty in opposition, comprehending, doubtless,many men of talent and eminence, who were formerly familiar with him, he had, during the courseof a whole year, only spoken to four, and to those:bu t casually and cur sorily, and only to _express a


wish, that the times might come when the namesof Whig and Tory might be abolished, and menlive together as they had done before they were

Neither did the prote ct ing zeal of his partyfriends compensate for the loss of those whomDryden had alienated m the ir service . Tru e it is,that a host of Tory rhymers came forward withcomplimentary verses to the author of A bsalomand A chitophe and of The Medal .” But ofall payment, that in kind is least gratifying to a

poverty- struck hard, and the courtly patrons of

Dryden were in no hast e tomake him more sub

stan tial requital. A gratuity of a hundred broadpieces is said to have been paid himby Charlesfor one of his satires but no permanent provisionwas made for hina He was coolly left to increasehis pittance by writing occasional pieces ; and itwas probably with this view that he arranged forpublication a. miscellaneous collection of poetry,which he afterwards continued. It was publishedfor Tonson, in 1 683—4, and contained several versions of Epistles from Ovid, and translations of

detached pieces of Virgil, Horace, and Theocritus,with some smaller pieces by Dryden himself, and

a variety of poems by other hands . The epistleshad appeared in 1680, in a version of the originalby several han ds, to which Dryden also contr ibutedintroductory discourse on translation. Contrary

to our author’s custom, the miscellany appearedwithout either preface or dedication.The miscellany, among othe r minor poems of

2 54 .mrE or JOHN DRYDEN.

-vourites, that our author, shortly after finishingthese immortal poems, was compelled to sue formore regular payment of that very pension, andfor a more permanent provision, in the followingafi

'

ecting Memorial, addressed to Hyde, Earl ofR ochester“f Iwou ld plead ,” says he, a l i ttlemeri t, and some haz ard sp fmy l ife from the common en emies ; my refu sing advan

tages offered by them, an d n eglect in g my ben efici al stu d ies,for the k ing

’s service ; bu t I on ly th ink I mer i t n ot to starve.I n ever appl iedmyself to any in terest con trary to you r lordshi p’s and, on some occas ion s, perhaps not kn own to you ,

have n ot been u n serviceable to the memory and repu tationofmy lord, you r father. After this,my lord,my con sc ienceassu resme, Imaywri te boldly, though I'cannot speak to you.

-I have three son s, growing toman’s estate . I breed themall

u p to learn ing, beyondmy fortu n e ; bu t th ey are too hopefulto be n eglected, though I wan t . Be p leased to look on mewi th an eye of compassion : some smal l employmen t wou ldr ender my cond i t ion easy. The King i s not u n satisfied of

me ; the D uke has often promi sed me h is assi stan ce ; an d

your lordsh ip i s the condu i t throu gh wh ich their favourspass. Ei ther in the cu stoms, or the appeal s of the exci se, orsome other way, mean s can not be wan t ing, if you please tohave the will. ’Tis e noughfor one age to have neglected Mr

C owley, and starved Mr Bu tler ; bu t n ei ther of themhad thehappin ess to l ive t i l l you r lordsh ip’s min istry. In themeant ime be pleased to g iveme a graciou s and a speedy an swer tomy pres en t requ est of half a year

’s pen sion formy n ecess iti es.I amgoing towri te somewhat by h is Majesty

’s command, 9and can n ot stir in to the cou n try formy heal th an d stu di estill I secu remy fami ly fromwan t .”

We know that thi s affecting remonstrance wasin part successful ; for long afterwards, he says, in

I Probably allu d ing to th e au thor having defen ded Clarendon in pu bl ic compan y ; .for noth ing of the kind occurs inDryden ’s publ ication s.Probably tha translatiou ‘

of Religio Laici.”


allusion to this period, Even froma bare treasury, my success has been contrary to that of Mr

Cowley ; and Gideon’

s fleece has there been moistened

,when all the ground was dry.

” But in theadmission of this claimto the more regular payment of his pension, was comprehended all Rochester’s title to Dryden’s gratitude. The poet couldn ot obtain the small employment which he soearnestly solicited ; and such was the recompenseof the merry monarch and his counsellors, to onewhose productions had strengthened the pillars ofhis throne, as well as renovated the literary tasteof the nation.


SECT ION V I.

Threnodz'

a Augustalis—A lbz'on and Albanias—D ryden

becomes a.

Ca t/zolz’

c The Controversy of Dryden withS tillingfleet T/ze Hind and Panther—L ife of S tF rancis Xavier Consequences of the Revolution to

D ryden—D on Sebastian—King Art/lur Cleomenes

L ove Triumphant.

THE accession of James I I . to the British throneexcited new hopes in all orders of men. On theaccession of a new prince, the loyal looked torewards, the rebelli ous to amnesty. The catholi csexulted in beholding one of their persuasion attainthe crown after an interval of two centur ies ; theChurch ofEngland expected the frui ts Of her unlimited devotion to the royal line even the sectariesmight hope indulgence from a prince, whose religion deviated from that established by law asW idely as their own . All, therefore, hastened, insugared addresses, to lament the sun which hadset, and hail the beams of that which had arisen.

Dryden, among other expectants, chose the morehonourable of these themes ; and in the Threno

d z'

a A ugustalis,” at once paid a tribute to the

memory of the deceased monarch, and decentlysolicited the attention ofhis successor. But althoughhe had enjoyed personal marks of the favour of


had been so nearly excluded . These topics werehowever temporary and, probably from the n ecessity of producing it while the allus ions were freshand Obvious, A lbion and A lban ius” was detachedfrom King Ar thur,

” which was not in such a.

state of forwardness . Great expense was bestowedin bringing forward this piece, and the sceneryseems to have been unusually perfect ; part icularly,the representation of a celestial phenomenon

,

actu ally seen by Captain Gunman of the navy,whose evidence is qu oted in the printed copies ofthe play.

l The mus ic of A lbion and Albaniu s”

I I t formed themach in e on wh ich Ir i s appeared—Dryden ’sWorks, vol. vi i . , p. 241 . I have been favoured by Sir EgertonBrydges, wi th the following Extract fromth e Jou rn al ofCaptain Chr i stopher Gunman , comman der of h is RoyalH ighn ess’s yach t the Mary, lying in Calais pier, Tu esday, 18tharch

1683—4,March 18th. I twas var iab le clou dyweath er : th ismorn

ing abou t seven o’

clock sawin the fi rmamen t three sun s,wi thtwo d emi- rain bows an d al l wi th in on e W hole rainbow, informand shape as here pou rtrayed


was arranged byGrabu t, a Frenchman,whose namedoes not stand high as a compo ser. Yet Drydenpays him some compliments in the preface of thepiece, which were considered as derogatory to Purcel and the English school, and gave great Offenceto a class of persons at least as irritable as theirbrethren the poets . This, among other causes,seems to have injured the success of the piece. Bu tits death- blow was the news Of the Duke OfMon

0mon th’s Invasion, which reached London on Saturday, l 3th Jun e, 1 685, while Albion and A lbanius” was performing for the sixth time the audience broke up in consternation, and the piece wasnever again repeated.

1 This Opera was prejudicial

The sun towards the left h an d bore east, and that on ther ight hand bore sou th- east of me. I did s it and drawi t aswell as the t ime an d place would permi t me ; for i t was seenin i ts full form abou t the space of half an hou r ; bu t part ofthe rainbow did see above two hou rs. It appeared first atthree qu arters past six, an dwas over-clou ded at a qu arter pastseven . Thewin d n orth- by

-west.”Mr. Gunman , the d escen dan t of the capta in , has lately had apict u re on the su bject pain ted by Serres, themarin e pain ter ;wh ich makes an in teresting h istory- piece. I t represen ts thephenomenon in the heaven s—the harbour of Calais—and theyacht lying off i t, 850. &c .

Thi s trad i t ion i s thu s cr i t ically examin ed and proved byMr Malon e :

Froma letterwr i tten by King James to the Pr in ce ofO range, Jun e 15, 1685, i t appears, that thoug h the Duke ofMonmou th landed at L yme, in Dorsetshire, on Thursdaye ven ing, Jun e 1 1 th, an accou n t of his lan d in g d id n ot reacht he King at Whi tehall t il l Saturdaymorning the 13th . The

Hou se of Common s, havingmet on that day at the u su al hou r,between n in e and t en o

’

clock, the n ews was soon afterwardscommun icated to themby a Message fromthe King, del ivered


to the company, who were involved by the expensein a considerable debt, and never recovered halfthe money laid ou t . Neither was it of service toour poet’s reputation, who had, on thi s occasion, toundergo the gibes of angry musicians, as well as thereproaches of disappointed actors and hostile poets .Onewent so far as to suggest, with some humour,that probably the laureat and Grabu t had mistakentheir trade the former writing the music, and thelatter the verse.We have now reached a remarkable incident

in our author’s life, namely, his conversion to theCatholic faith, which took place shortly after theaccession Of James I I . to the British throne .The biographer of Dryden must feel considerablediffi culty in di scussing the probable causes of his

change . A lthough this essay he intended to con

by the Earl of Midd leton to (whomEtheredge afterwardswrote two poet ical Epistles fromRatisbon ) .—Having votedand drawn up an A ddress to h is Majes ty, d es iring himto takecare of h is royal person ,

they adjou rn ed to four o'

clock

in wh ich in terval they wen t to Wh i tehall, presen ted theirA ddress, and then met again .

—Com. Jour. vol. ix . , p . 735.

A bou t th i s t ime, therefore, i t may be presumed, the n ewstran spired, and in an hou r afterward s probably reached theTheatre, where an au d ience was assembled at the represen tat ion of the opera of Al bion an d A lban ius for plays at thatt ime began at four o

’clock. I t seems fromMr L u ttrell ’s MS.

n ote, that the first represen tation of th is operawas on Satu r.day the 6th of Ju n e ; an d Down es (Rose. A ny. p. 40) says,that in con sequ ence ofMonmou th’s in vasion , i t was on ly per.formed six t imes so that the sixth represen tation was,wi thou t dou bt, on Satu rday, the 13th of Jun e . An examin at ionof dates i s gen erally fatal to tales Of th i s k in d : here, however,they certain ly support the tradi tionmen t ion ed in the text.”

L ij e of Dryden, p . 188.


fromthese suspicious circumstances, and tendingto show, that Dryden

’s conversion was at least ina great measure effected by sincere convi ction.

The prin cipal clu e to the progress Of his religious

p rinciples is to be found in the poet’s own lines in

The H ind and the Panther and may, by a verysimple commentary, be applied to the state of hisr eligious Opinions at different periods of his life

My thoughtless you th was wing’d wi th vain desiresMymanhood , longmi sled by wan der ing fires,Follow’

d false l ights ; an d, when their gl impse was gon e,My pr ide struck ou t n ewsparkl es of her own .

Such was I, su ch by n ature st il l Iam;Be th in e the glory, and bemin e the shame !

The vain desires of Dryden’s thoughtless

youth” require no explanation ; they obviously

mean, that inattention to religious duties whichthe amusement s of youth too frequently occasion .

The false lights ” which bewildered the poet’smanhood, were, Idoubt not, the puritani cal tenets,which, coming into the world under the auspicesof his fanatical relations, Sir Gilbert Pickeringand Sir John Driden , he must have at least professed, but probably seriously entert ained. Itmust be remembered, that the poet was thirty

years of age at the Restoration ; so that a considerable space of his full - grown manhood had passedwhile the rigid doctrines of the fanatics were stillthe order of the day. But the third state of hisOpin ions, those sparkles which his pride struckou t,

” after the delusions Of puritanism had vanishe d ; in other words, those sentiments which he


imbibed after the Restoration, and which immediately preceded his ad option of the Catholic faith,cannot be ascertained without more minute invest igation . We may at the outset be eas ily permittedto assume, that the adoption of a fixed creed ofreligious principles was not the first business ofour author, when that merry period set him freefrom the rigorous fetters of fanaticism. Unless hedifl

'

ered more than we can readily believe fromthe publi c feeling at that time, Dryden was satisfied to give to Caesar the things that were Caesar’s,without being in a hurry to fulfi l the counterpartof the precept. Foremost in the race of pleasure,engaged in labours al ien from serious reflection, thefavourite of the most lively and dissolute nobilitywhom England ever saw, religiou s thoughts werenot, at this period, likely to intrude frequentlyu pon his mind, or to be encouraged when they didso. The time, therefore, when Dryden beganseriously to compare the doctrines of the contending sects of Chr istian ity, was probably several

years after the Restoration, when reite rated disappointment, and satiety of pleasure, prompted hismind to retire within itself, and think upon hereafter . The Relz

'

g z'

o L a id ,

” published in 1682,evinces, that, previous to composing that poem, theauthor had bestowed serious consideration uponthe important subjects of which it treats ; and Ihave postponed the analysis of it to this place, inorder that the reader may be able to form his ownconjecture from what faith Dryden changed whenhe became a Catholic.


The Religio L a ici has indeed a political tendeney, being written to defend the chu rch of England against the sectaries : it is not, therefore, so

much from the conclusions of the piece, as from themode of the author’s deducing these conclusions,that Dryden’s real opinions may be gathered ;as we learn nothing of the bowl’s bias from itshaving reached its mark, though something may beconjectured by observing the course which it described in attaining it. Frommany minute particulars, I think it almost decisive, that Dryden,when he wrote the B ala

'

yz’

a was scepticalconcerning revealed religion . I do not mean, thathis doubts were of that fixed and permanent nature,which have at different times induced men, ofwhombetter might have been hoped, to pronounce themselves freethinkers on principle. On the contrary,Dryden seems to have doubted with such a strongwish to believe, as, accompanied with circumstancesof extrinsic influence, led him finally into the opposite extreme of credulity. H is view of the doctrines of Christianity, and of its evidence,were suchas could not legitimately found him in the conclusions he draws in favour of the Church ofEngland ;and accordingly, in adopting them, he evidentlystretches his complaisance towards the national religion, while perhaps in his heart he was even thendisposed to think there was no middle course between natural religion and the Church of Rome.The first cre edwhich he examines is that of Deism ;which he rej ects because the worship of one soledeity was n ot known to the philosophers of anti


the existence of that authority to which he so

ardently desired to submit himself. A nd the argument which Dryden considers as conclusive againstthe existence of such an omn iscient church, is precisely that which a subtle Catholic would find littletrouble in repelling. If there be such a church,says Dryden, why does it not point out the corruption of the canon, and restore it where lost ?The answer is obvious, providing that the infallibility of the church be previously assumed ; forwhere can be the necessity of restoring or explaining scripture, if God has given, to Pope and Council,the inspiration necessary to settle all doubts in mat-ters of faith Dryden must have perceived wherethi s argument led him, and be rather compoundswith the difficulty than face s it. The scripture, headmits, mu st be the rule on the one hand ; but, onthe other, it was to be qualified by the traditions ofthe earlier ages, and the exposition Of learned men.

A nd he concludes boldly enough :

Shall I speak pla in , and, in a n ation free,A ssume an hon est layman ’s l ibertyI think, accord ing tomy l i ttle sk ill,Tomy own motherchurch su bmitt ing still,Thatman y have been saved, andmanymay,Who n ever heard this qu estion brought in play.The u nletter

’d Chr is t ian , who bel ieves in gross,

Plods on to heaven , an d n e’er is at a loss ;For the strai t gate would be made strai ter yet,Were non e admi t ted there bu tmen ofwit .

This seems to be a plain admission, that theauthor was involved in a quest ion from which hesawno very decidedmode of extricating himself ;

L IrE OF JOHN DRYDEN. 267

and that the best way was to think as little as

possible upon the subject. But this was a sorryconclusion for affording firm foundat ion in religi ousfaith.

An other doubt appears to have puzzled Drydenso much, as to lead him finally to the Catholic faithfor its solu tion. This was the futu re fate of thosewho never heard the gospel preached, supposingbelief in it essential to salvation :

Becau se a gen eral law i s that alon e,Wh ichmu st to all , and every where, be known .

”

Dryden, it is true, founds upon the mercy of the

Deity a hope, that the benefit Of the propitiatorysacrifice of our Mediator may be extended to thosewho knew not of its power. But the creed of StA thanasius stan ds in the poet’s road ; and thoughhe disposes of it with less reverence to the patr iarchthan is quite seemly, there is an indecision, if not inhis conclusion, at least in his mode of deducing it,that shows an apt inclination to cut the knot, andsolve the objection of the Deist, by alleging, thatbeli ef in the Christian religion is an essential requisite to salvation.

If I am right in these remarks, it will follow,

thatDryden never could be a firm or steady believerin the Church of England’s doctrines . The arguments, by which he proved them, carried him too

far ; and when be commenced a teacher of fai th, orwhen, as he expresses it, his pride struck out n ewsparkles of its own ,

” at that very time, while inwords he maintained the doctrines of his motherchurch,his conviction really hovered between natu


ral religion and the faith of Rome. It is remarkable, that his friends do not seem to have consideredthe Relz

'

gz'

o L a ici as expressive of his decidedsent iments ; for Charles Blount, a noted freethinker, in consequence of that very work, wrote adeistical treatise in prose, bearing the same title,and ascribed it with great testimony of respectto his much- honoured friend, John Dryden,Esquire.” l Mr Blount, living in close habits withDryden, must have known perfectly well how to

understand his polemical poem and, had he supposed it was written under a deep belief Of the truthof the English creed, can it be thought he wouldhave inscribed to the author a tract against all revelation ?2 The inference is, therefore, suffi cientlyplain, that the dedicator knew that Dryden wassceptical on the subject, on which he had, ou t of

compliment to church and state, affected a convic

l The expression s in th e ded ication are su ch as to preclu deall idea bu t of profou n d respect : S ir, The valu e I have everhad for you rwrit ings,makesme impat ien t to peru se all treat ises that are crown edwi th you r n ame ; whereof, the last thatfel l in tomy bandswas you r Religio L aici ; wh ich expressesaswel l you r great judgmen t in, as valu e for, rel ig ion : a th ingt oo rarely fou nd in th i s age among gen tlemen of you r partsan d, I am con fiden t, (with the blessing of God u pon you rendeavou rs,) n ot u n l ikely to prove of great advan tage to thepubl ic ; since, as Mr Herbert wel l observes,

A versemay find himwho a sermon fl ies,And tu rn delight in to a sacrifice. ’

9 Blou n t preserves, indeed, that afl‘

ectat ion of respect for thed octr in es of the Establ i shed Chu rch wh ich d ecen cy imposes ;bu t the tendency of h is work i s to decry all revelation . I t i sfou nded on the n oted work of Lord Herbert of Cherbu ry,D e Veritate.”


that guide, the wan t of whom he had in somedegree lamen ted in the Religio L a ici

What weigh t of an c ien t wi tn ess can prevail,If pri vate reason hold the pu bl ic scaleBu t , grac iou s God , howwel l dost thou provideFor erring ju dgmen ts an u n erring gu i de !Thy thron e i s darkn ess in the abyss of l ight,A blaz e of glory that forbid s the sigh t.0 teach me to bel ieve thee, thu s conceal’d,A n d search n o fart her than thyself reveal’dBu t her alon e formy d irector take,Whomthou hast promised n ever t o forsake

We find, therefore, that Dryden’s conversion

was not of that sordid kind which is the couse

qu ence of a strong temporal interest ; for he hadexpressed intelligibly the imagined desz

'

dera ta

which the church of Rome alone pretends to sup

ply, long before that temporal interest had anexistence. Neither have we to reproach him, that,grounded and root ed in a pure Protestant creed,he was foolish en ough to abandon it for the morecorrupted doctrines of Rome. He did not unloosefrom the secure haven to moor in the perilousroad ; but, being tossed on the billows of un certainty, he dropped his anchor in the first mooringsto which the winds, waves, and perhaps an artfulpilot, chanced to convey his bark. We may ihdeed regret, that, having to choose between tworeligions, he should have adopted that which our

education, reason, and even prepossessions, combine to point out as foully corrupted from theprimitive simplicity of the Christian church. Bu t

neither the Protestan t Christian, nor the scepti cphilosopher, can claima right to despise the so


phistry which bewildered the judgment of Chillingworth, or the toils which enveloped the activeand suspicious minds of Bae and Of Gibbon.

The latter, in his account of his own conversion tothe Catholic faith, fixes upon the very argumentspleaded by Dryden, as those which appeared tohim irresist ible .

”

The early traditions of the church,the express words of the text, are referred to byboth as the grounds of their conversion ; and theworks of Bossuet, so frequently referred to by thepoet, were the means of influencing the determination of the philosopher. ‘ The victorious argument

1 I was un able to res ist th eweigh t of h i storical ev iden ce,that wi th in th e same period most of the lead ing doct rin es ofPopery were already in troduced in theory and pract ice ; n orwasmy con clu sion absurd, thatmirac les are th e test of tru th,an d that the chu rch mu st be orthodox an d pure,wh ich wasso often approved by th e v isible in terpos it ion of the D eity.Themarvellou s taleswh ich are so bold ly attested by the Basilsan d Chrysostoms, the A u stin s an d Jeroms, compe lled me toembrace the su periormer i ts of cel ibacy, the in sti tu tion of the

mon ast ic l ife, the u se of the sign of the Cross, of holy oil, andeven of images, the in vocation of sain ts, theworsh ip of rel ics,the rud imen ts of pu rgatory in prayers for the dead , and the

tremendou smystery of the sacrifice of the body and blood of

Chri st, wh ich in sen sibly swel led in to th e prod igy of transu bstan t iat ion . In these d ispos i t ion s, an d already more thanhalf a convert, I formed an un lu cky in t imacy wi th a younggen tleman of our col lege, whose n ame I shall spare. W i th a.character less resolu te, Mr had imbibed the same religiou s Opin ion s ; an d some Popish books, I knownot throughwhat chann el, were con veyed in to h is possession . I read, Iapplau ded, I bel ieved th e Engl ish t ran slation s of two famousworks of Bossu et, B i shop of Meau x, the Exposi t ion of the

Catholic Doctrin e,' and th e H istory of the Prot es tan t Var i ation s,’ ach ieved my con vers ion ; and I su rely fel l by a noblehand . I have s in ce examin ed the origin alswi th amore dis


to whi ch Chillingworth himself yielded was, thatthere must be somewhere an infallible judge

,and

the chu rch of Rome is the only Christian societywhich either does or can pretend to that character.”

It is also to be observed that, towards the endof Charles the Second’s re ign, the High- Chur chmen and the Catholics regarded themselves as onthe same side in political questions, and not greatlydivided in their temporal interests . Both weresufferers in the Plot, both were enemies of the

sectaries, both were adherents of the Stuarts .Alternate conversion had been common between

cern ing eye, and shall n ot hesi tate to pron ou n ce, that Bossu eti s indeed amaster of al l the weapon s of con troversy. In theExpos i t ion ,’ a spec iou s apology, the orator assumes, wi th

con summate art, the ton e of can dour an d simpl ici ty an d th et en - horn ed mon ster i s tran sformed, at h i smag ic tou ch, in tothe milk-wh i te H in d, who mu st be loved as soon as she i sseen . In the H i story,’ a bold an d well - aimed attack, hed i splays, wi th a happymixtu re of n arrative and argumen t,the fau lts and foll ies, the changes an d con trad iction s of ou rfirst reformers whose vari ation s (as he d exterou sly con tends)are themark of h istorical error, wh ile th e perpetu al u n i ty ofthe Cathol ic chu rch is the sign and test of infal l ible tru th .

To my presen t feel ings, i t seems incred ible, that I shou ldever bel ieve that I bel i eved in transu bstan tiation . Bu t myconqu eror oppressedmewi th the sacramen talword s, Hoe est

Camus meum,’ an d dashed again st each other the figu rativeh alf-mean ings of th e Protestan t sects ; every obj ect ion wasr esolved in to omn ipoten ce ; an d, after repeating at S t Mary

’sthe A than as ian creed, I humbly acqu i esced in themystery ofth e real presen ce .

T o take u p half on tru st, and half to try,Name i t not fai th, bu t bu ngli ng bigotry.

Both knave an d fool, themerchan twemay call,To pay great sums, and to compound the small ;Forwhowou ld breakWith heaven , andwou ld n ot break for all

GIBBON'S Memomof In: own L ife.


attached himself, had now become as parsimoniousof his favour as his chu rch is of salvation, andrestricted it to those of his own sect. It is morethan probable, though only a conjecture, thatDryden might be made the subject of those private exhortations, which in that reign were calledclosetz

'

ng and, predi sposed as he was, he couldhardly be supposed capable of resisting the royaleloquence. For, while pointing ou t circumstancesof proof, that Dryden

’s conversion was not madeby manner of bargain and sale, but proceeded upona sincere though erron eous conviction, it cannot bedenied, that hi s situation as poet laureat, and hisexpectations from the king,must have conduced tohis taking his final resolution. A ll I mean to inferfrom the above statement is, that his interest andinternal conviction led him to the same conclusion .

If we are to judge of Dryden’s sincerity in hisn ewfaith, by the determined firmness with whichbe retained it through good report and bad report,we must allow him to have been a martyr, or atleast a confessor, in the Catholic cause . If, aft erthe Revolution, like many greater men, he hadchanged his principles with the times, he was nota person of su ch mark as to be selected from all

the nation, and punished for former tenets . Supported by the friendship of Rochester, and most ofthe Tory nobles whowere active in the Revolution,of Leicester, and many Whigs, and especially ofthe Lord- Chamberlain Dorset, there would p robably have been little difficulty in permitting soeminent an author to remain poet laureat, if he had

LI FE O F JOHN DRYDEN. 275

fecan ted the errors of pOpery. But the Catholicreligion, and the consequent disqu alifications, werean insurmountable obstacle to his holding that orany other offi ce under government ; and Dryden

’

sadherence to it, with all the poverty, reproach, andeven persecution which followed the profession ,argued a deep and substantial conviction of thetruth of the doctrines it inculcated . SO late as1699,when a union, in opposition to KingWilliam ,

had led the Tories and Whigs to look on eachother with some kindness, Dryden thus expresseshimself in a letter to his cousin, Mrs Steward :

The cou rt rather speaks k indly of me, than does any

th ing forme, thou gh they promi se largely ; an d perhaps th eyth in k I wi ll advan ce as they go backward, in which theywill bemu ch deceived : for I can n ever go an inch beyon dmycon scien ce an dmy hon ou r. If th eywi l l con siderme as amanwho has don emy best to improve the langu age, an d especi al lythe poetry, an d wi l l be con ten t wi th my acqu iescen ce u n derthe presen t governmen t, and forbearing sat ire on i t, that I canp romi se, becau se I can performi t : bu t I can n ei ther take th eoath s, n or forsake my rel ig ion ; becau se I kn ow n ot whatc hu rch to go to, if I leave the Cathol ic ; they are all so d iv idedamongst themselves inmatters of fai th, n ecessary to salvation ,and yet all assuming th e n ame of Protestan ts . May God bep leased to open you r eyes, as he has open edmin e ! Tru th i sbu t on e, an d they who have on ce h eard of i t can p lead n o

e xcu se if they do n ot embrace i t . Bu t these are th ings tooseriou s for a tr ifl in g letter.” 1

If, therefore, adherence to the communion of afallmg sect, loaded too at the time with heavyd i squ alificat ions, and liable to yet more dangeroussuspicions, can be allowed as a proof of sincerity,we can hardly question that Dryden was, from the

'Dryden ’s Works, vol. xv i ii ., p. 162.


Catholic.

m em ded nor was his pen sufl'

es'

ed to be idle in

the cause which he had adopted. On the dth of

March, 1685 - 6, an hundred pounds a- year, payablequarterly, was added to his pension ; 1 and probablyhe fou nd himself more at ease under the regular

and economical governmen t of James, than whenhis support depended on the exhausted exche

quer of Charles . Soon after the gran ting of this

boon, he was employed to defend the reasons ofconversion to the Catholi c fai th, alleged by A nneHyde, Duchess of York, which, together with twopapers on a similar subj ect, said to have been foundin Charles the Second’s strong box, James had withgreat rashness given to the public. Stillingfleet,

n owat the head of the champions of the Protestantfaith, published some sharp remarks on these papers.A nother hand, probab1y that of a Jes uit, wasemployed to vindicate against himthe royal groundsof conversion ; while to Dryden was committedthe charge of defending those alleged by theDuchess. The tone of Dryden’s apology was, to

irritate the feelings of the clergy of the E stablished

The gn n t bears this honou rable consideration , which Iextract fromMr Malon e's work : Pat . 2. Jae. p . n . l .

Knowyg that we, for and in considerafi on of themany goodandm tahle sa vica dombyJoha dmhiaster of Amt o our late dearest brother King Charla the Secon d, as also

to u s done and performed, and taking n otice of the learn ing

and emin ent abilit ies of the said J.


whom he seems to have regarded as the reviser ofthis answer, in his polemical poem of The H indand the Panther.”

If we can believe an ancient tradition, this poemwas chiefly composed in a coun try retirement atRushton, near his birth- place in Huntingdon . Therewas an embowered walk at this place, whi ch, fromthe pleasure which the poet took in it, retained thename of Dryden’s Walk ; and here was erected,about the middle of last century, an urn, with thefollowing inscription : In memory ofDryden,whofrequented these shades, and is here said to havecomposed his poem of The H ind and the Pan

1

The H ind and the Panther was written witha view to obviate the objections of the Englishclergy and people to the power of di spens ing withthe test laws, usurped by James I I . A change ofpolitical measures,which took place while the poemwas composing, has greatly injured its uni ty andconsistence. In the earlier part ofhis reign, Jamesendeavoured to gain the Chur ch of England, byfair means and flattery, to submit to the remissionwhich he claimed the liberty of granting to the Catholics. The first part of Dryden’s poem iswr ittenupon this soothing plan ; the Panther, or Church of

England, i ssu re th e n oblest n ext the Hind,

A n d fairest offspring of the spotted k ind .

Oh, coul d her in . born stain s be wash’d away,Shewere too good to be a beas t of prey

l I amindebted for this anecdo te to Mr Octavius Gilchrist, theedi tor of t he poems of the t ty B i shop Corbett.

L IFE OF JOHN DRYDEN. 279‘

The sects, on the other hand, are characterised,wolves, bears, boars, foxes,—all that is odiou s and .

horr ible in the brute creation. But ere the poemwas published, the king had assumed a differenttone with the E stabli shed Church. Relying uponthe popularity which the suspension of the penallaws was calculated to procure among the Dissenters, he endeavoured to strengthen his party bymaking common cause between them and the Catholics, and bidding open defiance to the Church ofEngland. For a short time, and with the mostignorant of the sectaries, this plan seemed to succeed ; the pleasure of a triumph over their ancientenemies rendering them blind to the danger of thecommon Protestant cause . During this intervalthe poem was concluded and the last book seemsto consider the cause of the H ind and Pantheras gone to a final issue, and incapable of any amicable adjustment. The Panther is fairly resignedto her fate.

Her hou r Of grace was pasa'

d,

and the downfall of the English hierarchy is foretold in that of the Doves, who, in a subalternallegory, represent the clergy of the EstablishedChurch :

Tis said, the Doves repen ted , though too late,Become the smi th s of their own fool ish fate :Nor did their own er hasten their ill hou r,Bu t, sun k in cred i t, they d ecreased in power ;L ike sn ows in warmth thatmi ld ly pass away,D issolving in the silen ce of d ecay.

the preface. as well as in the course of


poem, Dryden frequently alludes to his disputewith Stillingfieet ; and perhaps none of his poemscontain finer lines than those in which he takescredi t for the painful exertion of Christian forbearance, when called by injured feeling to resentpersonal accusation

If j oys hereaftermu st be purch ased hereW i th loss of all thatmortal s hold so d ear,Then welcome infamy and pu bl ic shame”A n d last, a long farewel l to world ly fame !’Tis said wi th case ; bu t , oh, howhard ly tri edBy haughty sou l s to human hon ou r t i edO sharp con vu lsive pangs of agon i z ing pride !D own then , thou rebel, n evermore to r i se !A n d what thou d id st, an d dost, so dearly pr iz e,That fame, that darl ing fame,make that thy sacr ifice .’Tis n oth ing thou hast given ; then add thy tearsFor a long race of u nrepen ti ng years’Tis n oth ing yet, yet al l thou hast to give ;Then add thosemay-be years thou hast t o l iveYet n oth ing sti ll : then poor and n aked come,Thy fath er wi l l receive h is u n thrift home,A nd thy blest Sav iour’s blood d i scharge themighty sum.

S tillingfleet is, however, left personally undist inguished but Burnet, aft erwards Bishop Of

Salisbury, receives chastisement in his stead . Thecharacter of thi s prelate, however unjustly exaggerated, preserves many striking and cur ious traitsof resemblance to the original ; and, as was natural,gave deep offence to the party for whom it wasdrawn . For n ot only did Burnet at the timeexpress himself with great asperity of Dryden,but long afterwards, when writing his history, hepronounced a severe censure on the immoral ity


It is also worth remarking, that in the allegoryof the swallows, introdu ced in the Third Part ofThe Hind and the Panther,

” the author seemsto have had in his eye the proposal made at a.grand consult of the Catholics, that they shouldretire from the general and increasing hatred ofall ranks, and either remain qu iet at home, orsettle abroad. This plan,whi ch originated in theirdespair Of James’s being able to do any thingeffectual in their favour, was set aside by the fieryopposition Of Father Petre, the martin of the fabletold by the Panther to the H ind.

l

The appearance of The Hind and the Panther” excited a clamou r against the author farmore general than the publication of A bsalomand A chitophel. Upon that occas ion, the offencewas given only to a party ; but this open and

the Pap ist Du rh am, and the Tory Paton ; Dryden , he call s,in the most u ngu arded langu age, amon ster of immod estyan d impu ri ty of al l sorts,’ yet n o man ’s l ife was pu rer in i tsd ecen t habi ts, and less free fromd i ss ipat ion . There had beena li terary qu arrel between D ryden an d Bu rn et respect ing atran slat ion OfVarillas’sHistoryofHeresies ; Burn et had ru in edthe cred i t of the pap istical au thor, wh i le Dryden was bu siedon the tran slation ; and as Burn et says, he has wreaked h i smal ice on me for spo i l in g hi s three mon ths

’ labour,’ an d inreturn , he kin d ly informs D ryden , allu d ing to his poemof

The H ind and the Pan ther, that he i s the au thor of th eworst poemthe age has produ ced an d as for h ismorals, i tis scarce poss ible to growa worseman than he was —a stylen ot to be permitted in any con troversy, bu t to have brough tth is passion on the hallowed grou n d of h istory, was n ot to

have cast away h is shoe ’ in the presen ce of the D ivin i ty ofTru th,” &c.

—Quarrels of A uthors, vol. ii . , p. 282, et seq. ]See a long note u pon thi s subject, in Dryden ’s Works, vol.

x ., p. 254.

u rn or JOHN DRYDEN. 283

avowed defence of James’s strides towards arbitrary power, with the unpopular circumstance of

its coming from a new convert to the royal faith,i nvolved our poet in the general suspicion withwhich the nation at large nowviewed the slightestmotions of their infatuated monarch. The mostnoted amongst those who appeared to oppose thetriumphant advocate of the Hind, were Montagueand Prior, young men now rising into eminence .They joined to produ ce a parody, entitled theTown and Country Mouse ; with part of whichMr Bayes is supposed to gratify his old friends,Smith and Johnson, by repeating to them . Thepiece is, therefore, founded upon the twice - told jestof the Rehearsal. Of the parody itself, we havegiven ample specimen in its proper place . 1 There isnothing new or origin al in the idea, which chieflyturns upon the ridiculing the poem of Dryden,where religious controversy is made the subjectof dispute and adjustment between a Hi nd and aPanther,who vary between their typical characterof animals, and their real character as the Catholi cand English church. In thi s piece, Prior, thoughthe younger man, seems to have had by far thelarger share . Lord Peterborough, on being askedwhether the satire was not written by Montague,in conjunction with Prior, answered, Yes as ifI, seated in Mr Cheselden

’

s chaise dr awn by hisfin e horse, should say, L ord howfinely we drawthi s chaise ‘” Indeed, although the parody was

1 [SeeNotes to “The H ind and Pan ther,” Dryden’

s

Works, vol. x. ]


trite and obviou s, the satirists had the public upontheir side and it nowseems astonishing withwhatacclamations this attack upon the most able champion of James’s faith was hailed by his discontentedsubjects . Dryden was considered as totally overcome by his assailants ; they deemed themselves,and were deemed by others, as worthy of verydistinguished and weighty recompense ; 1 and whatwas yet a more decisive proof that their bolt hadattained its mark, the aged poet is said to havelamented, even with tears, the usage he had re

ceived from two young men, to whom he had beenalways civil. This last circumstance is probablyexaggerated. Montague and Prior had doubtlessbeen frequenters of Will’s Coffee - house, whereDryden held the supreme rule in criticism, andhad thus, among other rising wits, been distin

guished by him. That he should have felt theirsatire, is n atural ; for the arrow flew with thewind, and popular ity amply supplied its deficiencyin real vigour : but the reader may probably con

clude, with Johnson, that Dryden was too much

That Priorwas d i scon ten ted wi th his share of prefermen t,appears from the verses en t i tled Earl Robert’s M ice,” and

an angry expostu lation elsewhereMy fri en d Charles Montague ’s preferr’d ;Norwou ld I have it long observed,That onemouse eats wh i le t’other’s starved.

"

There i s a popu lar trad i t ion , bu t no farther to be rel ied on

than as showing the importan ce attached to the Town and

Cou n try Mou se," wh ich says, that Dorset, in presen tingMon tagu e to King Wi l l iam, sa id , I have brought a Mouseto wai t on you r majesty.” I wil l make a man of him,

”

said the k ing ; an d settled a pen sion of L .5OO u pon the fort unate satiri st.


that the change was adopted in consequen ce of thesame unbroken train of reasoning, and that Dryden,when he wrote the “Relz

'

g z'

o was underthe impulse of the same conviction , which, furtherprosecuted, led him to acquiesce in the faith ofRome.The king appears tohave been hardlyless anxious

to promote the dispersion of the H ind and thePanther,

” than the Protestant party to ridiculethe piece and its author. Itwas printed abou t thesame time at London and in Edinburgh, where aprinting- press was maintained in Holyrood- House,for the dispersion of tracts favouring the Catholicreligion . The poem went rapidly through two orthree editions ; a circumstance rather to be impu tedto the celebrity of the au thor, and to the anxietywhich foes, as well as friends, entertained to learnhis sentiments, than to any disposition to acquiescein his arguments .But Dryden’s efforts in favour of the Catholic

cause, were not limited to this controversial poem .

He is said to have been at first employed by thecourt, in translating Varillas

’

s History of He

resies,” a work held in considerable estimation by

the Catholi c divines . A ccordingly, an entry to

that purpose was made by Tonson in the Stationers’ books, Of such a translation made by Dryden at his majesty’s command . This circumstanceis also mentioned by Burnet, who adds, in verycoarse and abusive terms, that the success of hisown remarks having destroyed the character Of

Varillas as a historian, the disappointed translator


revenged himself by the severe character Of theBuzzard, underwhi ch the future Bishop of Sarumis depicted in The Hind and the Panther.” 1

The credulity of Burnet, especially where his

The passage, as qu oted at length by Mr Malon e, removesan obscu ri tywh ich pu z z led former biographers, at leas t as faras an y th ing can bemade clear,wh ichmu st u lt imately d epen du pon su ch clumsy d ict ion as the fol lowing.

“It (the an swerof B urn et)wi ll perhaps be a l i ttle longer a digest ing to Mon s .Vari llas, than i t was a preparing to me. One proof wil lqu ickly appear, whether the world i s so sat isfied wi th h isA n swer, as u pon that to retu rn to any thoughts of h is history ; for I have been in formed fromEnglan d, that a gen tleman ,

who i s known both for poetry an d other th ings, hadspen t three mon ths in tran slating M. Varillas

’

s History ; bu tthat, as soon asmy Reflect ion s appeared, he d iscon tin u ed h i slabou r, fin d ing the cred it of h is au thor was gon e . Now, i f

he th inks i t i s recovered by h i s an swer, h ewi l l perhaps go on

wi th his tran slation ; and th ismay be, for au gh t I kn ow, as

good an en tertainmen t for himas the con versat ion that h e hadset on between the H inds and Pan thers, an d all the rest of thean imals, forwhomM. Var i llasmay serve welle n ough for an

au thor : and th i s h i story an d that poemare su ch extraordi

n ary th ings of their k in d, that i twi l l be bu t su i table to see th eau thor of theworst poem, become l ikewise the tran slator of th ewors t h istory, that the age has produ ced . If h is grace an d h i swit improve both proport ion ably, h e wi ll hard ly fi n d that h ehas gain ed mu ch by th e change h e has made, fromhaving n o

reli gion to choose one of the worst. I t i s tru e, he had some.th ing to sink from, in matter ofwi t ; bu t as for h ismorals, i tis scarce possible for himto growa worse man than he was.

He has latelywreaked h i smal ice on me for Spo i l ing his threemon ths’ labou r ; bu t in i t h e has don eme all the hon ou r thatany man can receive fromhim, whi ch i s to be ra iled at byhim. If I had ill- n atu re en ough to promptme to wi sh a verybad wi sh for him, i t shou ld be, that hewou ld go on an d fin i shh is tran slation . By that i twi l l appear,whether the Engl ishn ation , wh ich i s th e most competen t ju dge in th i s matter,has, u pon the seeing ou r d ebate, pronoun ced in M. Varillas

’s

favou r, or in min e. I t i s tru e, Mr D. will sufl'er a li ttle by


vanity was concerned, was unboun ded ; and thereseems room to trace Dryden ’s attack upon him,

rather to some real or su pposed concern in thecontroversy about the Duchess of York’s papers,so often alluded to in the poem, than to the commentary on Var illas, which is not once mentioned. Yet it seems certain that Dryden entertainedthoughts of translating The History of Heresiesand, for whatever reason, laid the task aside . Hesoon after was engaged in a task, of a kind as

u npromising as remote fromhis poetical studies,and connected, in the same close degree, with thereligious views of the unfortunat e James I I . Thiswas no other than the translation of The L ife ofSt Francis Xavier, one of the last adopted saintsof the Catholic church, at least whose merits andsupposed miracles were those of a missionary.

Xavier is perhaps among the latest also, whoserenown for sanctity, and the powers attending it,appears to have been extensive, even while he was

yet al ive . l A bove all, he was of the order ofJesuits, and the very saint to whom Mary of E stehad addressed her vows, in hopes to secure a Ostholic successor to the throne ofEngland.

’2 It was,

It ; bu t at leas t i t will serve to keep himin fromoth er extravagan ces ; an d if he gain s l i t tle honou r by thi s work, yet hecannot lose somu ch by i t, as h e has don e by h is las t employmen t.”

In the S taple of News, ac t iii . , scen e 2, Jon son talksof the miracles don e by the Jesu i ts in Japan and China, ascu rrent art icles of in te lligence.

In the Ded ication to the Qu een , thi s is stated wi th a

gravi ty su i table to the occas ion. The reverend au thor (If


are now so much forgotten among us, (popularlyspeaking,) that, in reading the L ife of Xavier,

”

the Protest ant finds himself in a new and enchantedland. The motives, and the incidents, and thedoctrines, are alike new to him, and, indeed, occasionally form a strange contrast among themselves .There are few who can read, without a sentimentof admiration, the heroic devotion with which,from the highest principle of duty, Xavi er expose shimself to hardship, to danger, to death itself, thathemaywin souls to the Chr istian faith . The mostrigid Protestant, and the most indifferent philosopher, cannot deny to himthe courage and patienceof a martyr, with the good sense, resolution, readywit, and address, of the best negotiator that everwent upon a temporal embassy. It is well thatour admiration is qualified by narrations so monstrous, as his actually restoring the dead to life ; 1

so profane, as the inference concernin g the sweating crucifix so trivial and absurd, as a crab

’sfishing up Xavier’s cross, whi ch had fallen into thesea ; 3 and, to conclude, so shocking to humanity,as the ac count of the saint passing by the house ofhis ancestors, the abode of his aged mother, on his

road to leave Europe for ever, and conceiving hedid God good service in denying himself the melancholy consolation of a last farewell .

‘ Al togetherit forms a cur iou s picture of the human mind,st rung to a pitch of enthusiasm, which we can onlylearn from su ch narratives : and those to whomthis

1 See Dryden ’

s Works, vol . xvi . , 423.

8 Ibid. p . 456.0 Ibid. p. 169. 4 Ibid . p. 46.


afl’ords no amusement, may glean some cur iousparticulars fromthe Life of Xavier,

” conce rningthe state Of India and Japan, at the time of hismission, as well as of the internal regulations ands ingular policy adopted by the society, of whi chthe saint was a member. Besides the “Life of

Xavier,” Dryden is said to have translated Bos

suet’s Exposition of the Catholic doctrine butfor this we have but slight authority.

l

Dryden’s political and polemic discussions naturally interfered at this period with his more generalpoetical studies . A bout the period of James’saccession, Tonson had indeed pu blished a secondVolume of Miscellanies, to which our poet contributed a critical preface, with various translationsfromVirgil, Lucretius, and Theocritus, and fourOdes of Horace ; of which the third of the FirstBook is happily applied to Lord Roscommon, andthe twenty- ninth to Lawrence Hyde, Earl of Rochester. Upon these and his other translationsGarth has the following st riking and forcible observations, though expressed in lan guage somewhat

In the Bodleian Catalogu e anotherwork is attr ibu ted toour au thor, on very sl igh t grou n d s : An Expo si t ion of the

Doctrin e of the Cathol ic Church,’ tran slated from Bossu et,Bi shop of Meau x, and pu bl i shed at Lon don in 1685 . The on lyau thori ty for attribu t ing th i s tran slation to Dryd en , shou ldseem to have been the fo llowing n o te in B i shop Barlow’shan dwr it ing, at the bottomof the t itlepage of the copy belong ing to the Bod leian L ibrary : ByMr D ryden , then on lya poet, n owa papist too : may be, he was a papist before, bu tn ot kn own t ill of late . ’ Th is book had belonged to BishopBarlow,who d ied in —MALONE.


qu aint. I cannot pass by that admirable Englishpoet, without endeavour ing to make his countrysensible of the obligations they have to his muse .

Whether they consider the flowing grace of hisversificat ion , the vigorous sallies of his fancy, or thepecu liar deli cac y of his periods, they all discoverexcellences never to be enough admired. If theyt race him from the fir st productions of his youth tothe last performances of his age, they will find

,

that as the tyranny of rhyme never imposed on theperspicu ity of sense, so a languid sense neverwanted to be set off by the harmony of rhyme.A nd, as his earlier works wanted no maturity, so

his latter wanted no force or spirit. The fallingofl"of his hair had no other consequence than tomake his laurels be seen the more .

A s a translator, he was just ; as an inventor,he was rich. His versions of some parts Of Lucretiu s, Horace, Homer, and Virgil, throughout, gavehima just pretence to that compliment which wasmade to Monsieur d

’

Ablan court, a celebratedFrench translator. It is u ncerta in who have the

greatest obligation to him, the dead or the living .

W ith all these wondrou s tal ents he was libelled, in his lifetime, by the very men who had noother excellences but as they were his imitators .Where hewas allowed to have sentiments superiort o all others, they charged him with theft. Buthow did he steal ? no otherwise than like thosewho steal beggars’ children, only to clothe themthe better .In this reign Dryden wrote the first Ode to St


must suppose that Dryden, as a poet, was interestedin the poetical part of the religi on which he hadchosen ; and his t ranslation of Ven i, Crea tor Sp i~

r ims,”whichwas probably recommended to himas

being the favour ite hymn Of St Francis Xavier,l

shows he was so. Bu t it is less generally known,that the English Catholics have preserved twoo ther translations ascribed to Dryden one of theTe D eum,

” the other of the Hymn for St John’sEve which are inserted in the poet’s works .A characteristi c of James’s admin istration was

rigid economy, not only in ordinary matters, butt owards his own partisans —a wretched qualityin a prince, who was attempting a great and unpopular revolution both in religion and polit ics, andought, by his liberal ity, and even profusion, to haveattached the hearts and exc ited the hopes of thosefiery and unsettled spirits, who are ever foremostin times of national tumult . Dryden, one of his

t hat solemn i ty and pecu l iari ty of d ict ion wh ich at on ce pu tst he reader an d hearer on h is gu ard as to the pu rpose of thepoe try. To my Goth ic ear, in deed, the S tabat Ma ter, thefl ies In c, and some of the other hymns of th e Cathol ic chu rch ,aremore solemn an d affect in g than th e fi n e classical poetry ofB uchan an the on e has the gloomy d ign i ty of a Go th ic chu rch,an d remin ds u s in stan tly of the worship to wh ich i t i s ded icated the other i smore l ike a Pagan temple, recal l ing to ourmemory the c lassical an d fabulou s dei t i es, &c. -s e of the

Rev. Geo. Crabbe, p.Before the beginn ing of every can on ical hou r,he always

said th e hymn of Ven i, Creator Sp iritus and i t was obser

v ed , thatwh ile he said i t, h is coun ten an cewas en l ighten ed, asi f the Holy Ghost, whom he in voked, was v isibly descendedon him.

”—Dryden’

s Worlzs, vol. xvi . p . 473.


most eflicient and zealous supporters, and who hadt aken the step which of all others was calculatedto please James, rece ived only, as we have seen,aft er the interval of nearly a year from that prince’saccession, an addition of L NG to his yearly pension. There may, however, on occasion of TheH ind and the Panther,

” the Controv ersy withS t illingfle et, and other works undertaken with anexpress view to the royal interest, have been privatecommunications of James’s favour. But Dryden,always ready to supplywith hope the deficiency of

present possession, went on hi s literary courserejo icin g. A lively epist le to his fr iend E therege,then envoy for James at Ratisbon, shows the lightness and bu oyancy of his spir its at this su pposedauspicious period.

A n event, deemed of the utmost and most ben eficial importance to the family of Stuart, bu twhi ch,according to their usual ill fortune, helped to precipitate their ruin , next called forth the public gratulation of the poet lau reat . Thi s was the birth ofthat son of prayers” prophesied in the dedi cationto Xavier,whom the Engli sh, with obstinate incredulity, long chose to consider as an impostor,grafted upon the royal line to the prejudice of theProtestant succession . Dryden’s Britann ia Rediv iva” hailed, with the enthusiasm of a Catholic anda poet, the very event, which, removing all hope ofsuccession in the course of nature, precip itated themeasures of the Prince of Orange, exhausted thepat ience of the exasperated people, and led themviolently to extirpate a hated dynasty, whi ch


seemed likely to be protracted by a new reign .

The merits of the poem have been considered inthe introductory remarks prefixed in thi s edition.

1

Whatever hopes Dryden may have conceivedin consequ ence of The H ind and the Panther,

”

Britannia Rediviva,” and other works favour

able to the cause of James and of his religion,they were suddenly and for ever blighted by theREVOLUTION. It cannot be supposed that thepoet viewed without anxiety the crisis while yetat a distance ; and perhaps his own tale of theSwallows may have begu n to bear, even to theauthor, the air of a prophecy. He is said, in anobscure libel, to have been among those courtierswho encouraged, by frequent visits, the campon Hounslow Heath,2 upon which the king hadgrounded his hopes of subduing the contumacy

l Dryden’s Works, vol. x . , p. 285.

Here daily swarmprodigiou swights,A nd strange variety of sights,A s ladies lewd , and fopp i sh kn ights,Priests, poets, pimps, and paras i tes ;XVhi ch nowwe ’l l spare, an d on lymentionThe hu ngry hard thatwri tes for pen sionO ld Squab , (who ’s sometimes here, l 'mtold,)That oft has W i th his prin cemade bold,Call

’d the late k i ng a san t ’ring cu lly,

T o magn ify the Gall ic bu lly ;W ho lately pu t a sen seless ban terUpon the world . with B rad and Pan ther ;Mak i ng the beasts and birds o ’the woodDebate , what he ne ’er u nderstood,D eep secrets in philosop hy,A n dmysteries in theo logy,A ll su ng in wretched poetry ;Which rambling p iece is asmu ch farce all,A s his tru e mirror, the Rehearsal ;Forwhich he has been sou ndly bang ’

ri

Bu t ha’n 't his j ust reward ti ll hang ’d .

Poemon the Camp at Hounslow.


y ated by ancient resentment and literary envy.

A n extract from on e of each kind may serve toshow, how very little wit was judged necessaryby Dryden’s contemporar ies to a successful attacku pon him .

1

Extracts from The Address of John Dryden, Laureat,to his H ighn ess th e Prin ce of Orange

In al l the hosannas ou rwholeworld 's applause,Illu stri ou s champion of ou r church and laws lA ccept, great Nassau ! fromu nworthyme,Amongst the adoring crowd , a bended knee ;Nor scruple, sir, t o hearmy echoing lyre,Strung , tu n ed, and j o in ’d to the u n iversal choir ;Frommy su spectedmou th thy glories toldA known ou t- iyer fromthe English fold.

A fter ren ewing the old reproach abou t CromwellIf thu s all this Icou ld u nblu shing write ,

Fear n ot that pen that shall thy praise indi te ,When high-born bloodmy adoration draws,Exalted glory an d u nblemnsh ’d cau seA theme so all d ivin emymu se shallwing,What is't for thee, great pri nce, Iwi ll n ot singNO bounds shall stopmy Pegasian flight,I’ll spotmy Hind, an dmakemy Pan therwhi te

B u t if, great prince,my feeble strength shall fail,T hy theme I’ll tomy su ccessors en tail ;My heirs the u nfi n ish ’

d subject shall completeIhave a son , and be, by all that’s great,That very son (and trus tmy oaths, I sworeA smu ch tomy greatmaster James before)Shall, by his aire ’s example, Rome renou nce,For he, you ng striplmg . yet has tu ru 'd bu t on ce ;That O xford n ursling, that sweet hopefu l boy,H is father’s and that on ce Ignatian j oy,D esigned for a newBe llarmin Gol iab,Under the great Gamal iel, Obad iah ;This you th, great sir, shall your fame 's trumpets blow,

A nd soarwhen my du ll W i ngs shal l flag below.

Why shou ld I blu sh to turn , when my defence ’

A nd plea’s so plain —for if Omn i po tenceB e the highest attribu te that heaven can boast,That’s the tru est church that heaven resemblesmost.


The tables then are tu rn ’d : and ’tis confest,The strongest and themightiest is the bestIn allmy changes I’mon the right side,A nd by the same great reason j u sti fied.When the bo ld Crescent late attack

'd the Cross,Resolved the empire of theworld to engross,Had tottering Vi enna’s walls bu t fail’dA nd Turkey over Chri stendomprevai l’d,L ong ere this Ihad cross’d the Dardanello,

A nd re ign'd themightyMahomet's hail fellow;

Qui ttingmy duller hopes, the poor renownOf Eaton College, or a Dubl i n gown ,

0

A nd commenced graduate in the grand divan ,Had reign

'

d amore immortal Mu ssu lman.

"

The l in es wh ich followare taken from TheDel iverance,”a poemto the Prin ce of Orange, by a Person of Quali ty . 9th

Febru ary, 1688-9.

A las ! howcru el is a poet’s fate !Orwho indeed wou ld be a laureat,

299

Nor was the pelting of this pitiless storm”of

abusive raillery the worst evil to which our author

Thatmu st or fall or tu rn with every change of statePoor bard ! i f thy hot z eal for loyal Wem1

Forbids thy tacki ng, sing his requ iem;S i ng something , pri thee, to en u re thy thumb ;No thing bu t consc ien ce strikes a poet dumb.Consc ien ce , that du ll chimera of the schoo ls,A learned imposit ion u pon fools,Thou , Dryden , are no t S i lenced with su ch stufl'

,

Egad thy consc ien ce has been large enough.B u t here are loyal subjects st i ll, and foes,Many tomourn , formany to oppose.Shall thy greatmaster, thy almighty Jove,Whomthou to place above the gods hast strove,Shall he fromDavid 's thron e so early fall,A nd laureat Dryden n o t on e tear let fall ;Nor sings the bard his exit in one poor pastoral ?Thee fear confines, thee, Dryden , fear confines,A nd grief, n or shame, stops thy recanting lin es.Our Damon is as gen erous as great,A ndwell cou ld pardon tears that love create,Shou ldst thou , in j usti ce to thy vexed sou l,Not amg to him, bu t thy lost lord condo le.B u t 81 19 000 is a damn i ng error, JohnI'd ormyma ster ormyself bemoan.

”

1 L ord Jej eries, Baron of Wem.


was subjected . The religion whi ch he professed,rendered him incapable of holding any office underthe n ewgovernment, even if he could have bendedhis polit ical principles to take the oaths to Williamand Mary. We may easily believe, that Dryden

’sold friend Dorset, nowlord high- chamberlain, feltrepu gnance to render vacant the places of poetlau reat and royal historiographer, by remov ingthe man in England most capable of filling thembut the sacrifice was inevitable. Dryden’s ownfeelings, on losing the situ ation of poet laureat,must have been greatly aggravated by the selection of his despised Opponent Shadwell as hissuccessor a scribbler whom, in Mac-Flecknoe,

”

he had himself placed preeminent in the regionsof dulness, bu t who now, so far as royal mandatecan arrange such precedence, was raised in hisstead as chief among Engli sh poets . This veryremarkable coincidence has led several of Dryden’sbiographers, an d Dr Johnson among others, tosuppose that the satire was actually written toridicule Shadwell’s elevation to the honours Of thelaurel ; though nothing is more certain than thatitwas publi shedwhile Drydenwas himself laureat ,and cou ld be hardly su pposed to ant icipate theObject Of his satire becoming his successor . Shadwell, however, possessed merits with KingW illiam,

which were probably deemed by that prince of

more importance than all the gen ius of Shakspeare,Milton, and Dryden, if it could have been combinedin one individu al . He was a stanch Whig, andhad suffered under the former government, being


Dryden, deprived by the Revolution of presentpossession and future hope ,was now reduced to thesame, or a worse situation, than he had occupiedin the year of the Restoration, his mcome restingalmost entirely upon his literary exertions, his expenses increased by the necessity of providing forand educating his family, and the advantage of hishigh reputation perhaps more than counterbalancedby the popular prejudi ce against his religion andparty. So situated, he patiently and prudentlybent to the storm whi ch he could not resist ; andthough he might privately circulate a few lightpieces in favour of the exiled family, as the Lady

’sSong,

”1 and the translation of Pitcairn’s beautifulEpitaph 2 on the Viscount of Dundee, it seemscertain, that he made no formal attack on thegovernment, either in verse or prose . Those whoimputed to him the satires on the Revolution,

These yelping cu rswere straight loo ’d on to bark,O n the deservmgman to set amark.

These abj ect, fawn ing parasites and knaves,S ince theywere su ch, wou ld have all o thers slaves.’Twas prec iou s loyalty thatwas thought fi tTo atone forwan t of honesty and wi t .No wonder common - sense was all cried down ,

A nd no ise and n onsense swagger’d through the town.

Our au thor, then opprest ,wou ld have you knowit,Was silenced for a n omeon formist poet ;In those hard times he bore the u tmost test,A nd n owhe swears he ’

s loyal as the best.Now, sirs, since common -sense has won the day,B e kind to this, as to his last year 's play.

His friends stood firmly to himwhen distress’dHe hopes the n umber is n ot n owdecreased.He fou nd esteemfromthose he valu edmost ,Proud of his friends, he of his foes cou ld boast.

Prologu e to B ury -Fa ir.

Dryden’s Works, vol. xi ., p. 1 75. 3 Ibid. p . 1 13.


called S uumCu z'que, and Tarqu in and Tullia,”

did inju stice both to his prudence and his poetry.

The last, and probably both satires, were writt enby Mainwaring, who lived to change his opinions,and . become very sorry for what he had done.The theatre again became Dryden’s immediate

resource. Indeed, the very first play QueenMaryattended was one of our poet’s, whi ch had beenprohibited during the reign of James I I . Bu t

the revival of the Spanish Friar ” could affordbut little gratification to the author, whose newlyadopted religion is so severely satirized in the person of father Dominic Nor was thi s ill - fatedrepresentation doomed to afford more pleasure tothe personage by whom itwas appointed. For theaudience applied the numerous passages, concerning the deposing the old king and planting a femaleusurper on the throne, to the memorable changewhich had just taken place ; and all eyes were fixedupon Queen Mary,with an expression which threwher into extreme confu sion .

‘

Dryden, after the Revolution, began to lay thefoundation for a new structure of fame and popularity in the tragedy of Don Sebastian .

” Thistragedy, which has been ju stly regarded as thechef- d

’

ceuvre of his plays, was not, he has informedus, huddled up in haste .” The author knew the

circumstances in whi ch he stood, while, as he expresses it, his ungenerous enemies were takingadvantage of the times to ruin his repu tation and

In troduct ion to Span ish Fri ar,” Dryden ’sWorks, vol.

ViO’ p. 371 .


was conscious, that the full exertion of his geniu swas necessary to secure a favourable reception froman audience prepossessed against him and his tenets .Nor did he neglect to smooth the way, by inseribing the piece to the Earl of Leicester, brother ofAlgernon Sidney, who had borne arms againstCharles in the civil war ; and yet, Whig or republican as he was, bad taste and feeling enough to

patronise the degraded laureat and proscribed Catholic . The dedication tu rns u pon the philosophi caland moderate use of polit ical victory, the liberal ityOf considering the friend rather than the cau se, thedignity of forgiving and relieving the fallen adver

sary ; themes, upon which the eloqu ence of thesuffering party is usu ally u nbounded, althoughsometimes forgotten when they come again intopower . W ith all this deprecatory reasoning,Dryden does n ot recede, or hint at receding, on e

inch from his principles, bu t concludes his prefacewith a resolution to adopt the counsel of the

classicTu ne cedemalis, sed con tra auden tior ito.

”l

The merits of this beautiful tragedy I have

Soon after th e accession of James th e Secon d, Dryden ,as i s wel l known . threw add i t ion al su spic ion u pon h is character, by embracing, n o t on ly the pol i t ics, bu t the rel ig ion of

t he cou rt. The grou n d s of th is charge are investigated byMr

Scott wi th mu ch can dou r an d ingen u i ty and we con cu rwi thhimin th inking, that a good deal of sin ceri ty was mingledwi th a read in ess tomake u se of the lu cky opportu n i ty. Th isOpin ion is fou n d ed u pon th e Religio L a ici ,

’ pu bl i shed in 1682,t hree years before h is con version ; a poem in d icating a veryv igorou s, bu t a very sceptical mind ; u n able to so lve th e prohlems in rel ig ion which i t raised to i tself, an d alreadywi lling


forth the gratulations even Of Milbourne, whoafterwards made so violent an att ack upon thetranslation of Virgil. The comedy was inscribedto S ir W illiam L eveson Gower, whose name, wellknown in the history of the Revolution, may besuppo sed to have been invoked as a talismanagainst misconstructions, to which Dryden

’s situ ation so peculiarly exposed him, and to which heplainly alludes in the prologue .

l Our au thor’schoice of this patron was probably dictated by S irW illiam Gower’s connexion with the Earl of Rochester, whose grand- daughter he had married.

Encouraged by the rev ival of his popularity,Dryden nowventured to bring forward the operaof King A rthur,

”originally designed as an enter

tainmen t to Charles I I . ; A lbion and A lban ius”

being written as a sort of introdu ctory masqu eupon the occasion.

2 Whenwe consider the s trongand even violent polit ical tendency of that prefato ry piece,we may readily suppose, that the operawas originally written in a strain very differentfrom the present ; and that much must have been

1 The labo uring bee,when his sharp sting is gone,Forgets hi s go lden work, and turns a drone ;S u ch is a sati re, when you take awayThat rage , i n which h is n oble v igo ur lay.W hat gai n you by n o t su ffering himto tease yeHe ne i ther can o ffend yo u now, n or please ye.

The lmn ey- bag and ven omlay so near,That bo th toge ther you reso lved to tear,A nd lost your pleasu re to secure you r fear.Howcan he showhi smanhood, If you b i nd himTo bo x . l ike boys, W i th one han d t i ed behi nd bunThis i s plain levell ing o f W i t ; i n whichThe poor has all the advan tage , n o t the rich ‘

The blockhead stands excu sed forwan ti ng sense ;An d wi ts tu rn blorkheads in the ir own defence.”

See an te, p . 257.


softened, altered, and erased, ere a play, designedto gratulate the discovery of the Rye - house plot ,could,without hazard, be acted after the Revolu

tion. The odiou s, though necessary, task of defacing his own labou rs,was su fficiently disgu sting tothe poet, who complains, that not to offend thepresent times, n or a government which has hithertoprotected me, I have been obliged so much to alterthe first design, and take away so many beau tiesfrom the writing, that it is nowno more what itwas formerly, than the present ship of the RoyalSovereign, after so often taking down and altering, is the vessel it was at the first bu ilding.

” Persevering in the pru dent system of seeking patronsamong those whose patronage was rendered effec

tual by their influence with the prevail ing party,Dryden prefixed to King Ar thur ” 3. beautifuld edication to the Marquis of Halifax, to whosecautious and nice policy he ascribes th e nation’sescape from the horrors of civil war, whi ch seemedimpending in the latter years of Char les I I . andhe has not failed, at the same time, to pay a passingtribu te to the merits of his original and goodhumou red master . The music of King A rthur ”

being composed by Purcel, gave Dryden occasiont omake that eminentmusician somewell - deservedcompliments, which were probably designed as apeace - offering for the injudicious preference givent o Grabu t in the introduction to Albion and A lban iu s.

” 1 The dances were composed by Priest ;See ante, p . 259.


and the whole piece was eminently successful. Its

good fortune, however, was imputed, by the ou vious, to a lively song in the last act, which hadlittle or nothing to do with the bus iness of thepiece . In this opera ended all the hopes which theworld might entertain of an epic poem from Drydenon the subject of King Ar thur .Our author was by no means so fortunate inCleomenes,” hi s next dramatic effort . The timeswere something changed since the Revolution.

The Tories, who had originally contributed greatlyto that event, had repented them of abandoning theS tuart family, and, one after another, were returning to their attachment to James . It is probablet hat this gave new courage to Dryden, who,although upon the accession of King W illiam, hesawhimself a member of an odious and proscribedsect, now belonged to a broad political faction,whicha variety of events was daily increasing. Hence hisformer caution was diminished, and the suspicion ofhis enemies increased in proportion. The choice ofthe subject , the history of a Spartan prince exiledfrom his kingdom, and waiting the assistance of

a foreign monarch to regain it, corresponded toon early with that of the unfortunate James. Thescene of a popular insu rrection,where the minds ofa whole people were inflamed, was liable to misint erpretat ion. In short, thewhole story of the Spartan Cleomenes was capable Of being wrested to

poli tical and jacobitic purposes ; and there wantedn ot many to aver, that to such purposes it had been


false those reports were, which imputed to him thecomposing a Jacobite play.

Omitting, for the present, Dryden’s intermediate

employments, I hasten to close his dramatic career,by mentioning, that Love Triumphant,

” his lastplay, was ac ted in 1692, with very had success .Those who look over this piece, which is in truthone of the worst our author ever wrote, can be atn o loss to discover sufficient reason for its condemn ation. The comic part approaches to farce, andthe tragic unites the wild and unnatural changesand counterchanges of the Spanish tragedy, withthe involu tions of unnatural and incestuous passion,which the British audience has been always averset o admit as a legitimate subj ect of dramatic pityor terror. ‘But it cannot be supposed that Drydenreceived the failu re with any thing like an admission of its justice . He was a veteran fo iled in thelast of his theatrical trials of skill , and retreatedfor ever from the stage, with expressions whichtransferred the blame from himself to his judgesfor, in the dedication to James, the fourth Earl ofSalisbu ry, a relation of Lady Elizabeth, and con

n ected with the poet by a similarity of religiousand political opinions, he declares, that the charact ers of the persons in the dr ama are truly drawn,the fable not injudiciously contrived, the changesof fortune not unartfully managed, and the catastrophe happily introdu ced : thu s leaving, were theau thor’s opin ion to be admitted as decisive, no

foundation upon which the critics could groundtheir opposition . The enemies of Dryden, as usu al,

LI FE or JOHN DRYDEN. 31 1

triumphed greatly in the fall of this piece ; ‘ andthus the dramatic career of Dryden began andclosed with had success.This section cannot be more properly concluded

than with the list which Mr hIalon e has drawnou t of Dryden’s plays, with the respective datesof their being acted and published ; which is a correction and enlargement of that subjoined by theauthor himself to the opera of Prince Ar thur .”

Henceforward we are to consider Dryden asunconn ected with the stage.

For example, in a Sess ion of the Poets, u n der th e ficti tiou sn ame of Matthew Coppinger, Dryden i s thu s irreveren tlyin trodu ced

A reverend grisly elder first appear’d,W ith solemn pace throu gh the dwi ded herd ;A pollo, laugh i ng at hi s c lumsymien ,Pron ou nced himstraight the poets' alderman.

H i s labouringmuse d i d many years exce lIn i ll inventi ng, and translati ng well,T ill Love Tri umphan t d id the cheat reveal .

S o when appears,midst sprightly births, a sot,W hateverwas the other ofi‘

spring’s lot,

Thi s we are surewas lawfully begot. ”

LI FE OF JOHN DRYDEN.312

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of uninterrupted friendship . The influence of Clarendon and Rochester, the queen

’s uncles, were,we have seen, often exerted in the poet

’s favour ;and through them he became connected with thepowerful families with which they were allied .

Dorset, by whom he had been deprived of hisoffice, seems to have softened this harsh, thoughindispensable exertion of authority, by a liberalpresent ; and to his bounty Dryden had frequ entlyrecourse in cases of emergency.

1 Indeed, uponone occasion it is said to have been administeredin a mode savouring more of ostentation than delicacy ; for there is a tradition, that Dryden andTomBrown, being invited to dine with the lordchamberlain, found under their covers, the one a

Su ch , I u nderstan d, i s the gen eral pu rport of some letterso f Dryden

’s, in possess ion of the Dorset fami ly,wh ich con taincertain particu lars ren dering themu nfit for pu bl ication . Our

au thor h imself commemorates Dorset’s gen erosi ty in th eEssay on Satire, in the following affecting passage ThoughI mu st ever ackn owledge to the hon ou r of you r lord sh ip, andth e etern al memory of you r chari ty, that since th i s Revolu

t ion , wherein I have pat ien tly su ffered the ru in ofmy smallfortun e, and the loss of that poor su bsisten ce wh ich I hadfromtwo kings, whomI had servedmore fai thfu lly th an profi table to myself—then you r lordship was pleased, ou t of n oo thermot ive bu t you r own n oblen ess, W i thou t any d esert ofmin e, or th e least solic i tation fromme, to make me amos tbou n t ifu l presen t, wh ich at that t ime, when 1 was most inwan t of i t, came most season ably an d u n expectedly t o myrel ief. That favou r,my lord , i s of i tself su ffi c ien t to bin d anygratefu l man to a perpetual ackn owledgmen t, an d to al l thefu tu re service wh ich on e of mymean con d i tion can be everable to perform. May the A lmighty God retu rn i t forme,bo th in blessin g you here, an d reward ing you hereafterEssay on Satire, vol. xi i . , p. 31 .


bank-note for L .100, the other for L .50. I havealready noticed, that these pecuniary benefactionswere not held so degrading in that age as at present ; and, probably, many of Dryden’s opulentand noble friends took, like Dorset, occasionalopportunities of supplying wants, which neitherroyal mu n ificence, n or the favour of the public,now enabled the poet fully to provide for.

If Dryden’s crit ical empire over literature wasat any time interrupted by the mischances of hispolitical party, it was in abeyance for a very shortperiod ; since, soon after the Revolution, he appearst o have regained, and maintained till his death,that sort of authority in W ill’s Coffee - house, towhich we have frequently had occasion to allu de .His supremacy, indeed, seems to have been so

effectually established, that a pinch out of Dryden’s snuff-box

” l was equal to taking a degree inthat academy Of wit . Among those by ,

whom itwas frequented, Sou therne and Congreve wereprincipally di stinguished by Dryden’s friendship .

it

H is intimacy with the former, though oddly commen ced, seems soon to have ripened into suchsincere friendship, that the aged poet selected

So says Ward, in th e Lon don Spy.

I t was D ryd en who madeWi ll ’s Coffee-hou se the greatresort for the wi ts of h i s t ime. A fter h is death, A dd i sontran sferred i t to B u tton ’s, ( in Ru ssel l S treet, Coven t Garden ,on the sou th side,) who had been a servan t of h is.A dd i son passed each day al ike, an d mu ch in the sameman n eras D ryden d id . Dryd en employed h ismorn ings in wri ting,d in ed en famille, an d then wen t to lVill’s, on ly he came homeearl ier at n igh ts .”—PorE—Sp en ce’s A necdotes, (Malon e,) p.


Sou thern e to finish Cleomenes,” and addressedto himan epist le of condolence on the failure ofThe Wives’ Excuse,” which, as he delicately

expresses it, was with a. kind civility dismissed”

fi ‘

omthe scene. This was in deed an occasion inwhi ch even Dryden could tell, from experience,how much the sympathy of fri ends was necessaryto soothe the injured feelings of an author . ButCongreve seems to have gained yet farther thanSou therne upon Dryden

’s friendship. He wasintroduced to him by his first play, the celebratedOld Bachelor,

” being put into the poet’s hands tobe revised. Dryden, after making a fewalterationsto fit it for the stage, retu rned it to the author withthe high and just commen dation, that it was thebest fir st play he had ever seen . In truth, it wasimpossible that Dryden could be insensible to thebrill iancy of Congreve’s comic dialogue, which hasn ever been equalled by any Engli sh dramatist ,unless by Mr Sheridan . Less can be said for thetragedies of Sou therne, and for The MourningBride .” Although these pieces contain many passages of great interest, and of beautiful poetry, Iknow not but they contribu ted more than eventhe subsequent homili es of Rowe, to chase natural and powerful expression of passion from theEnglish stage, and to sink it into that maudlin,and affected, and pedantic style of tragedy, whi chhaunted the stage till Shakspeare awakened atthe call of Garrick. The Fatal Marriage of

Sou thern e is an except ion to this false taste for no

one who has seenMrs Siddons in Isabella, can deny


had subjected to his cousin’s perusal some of thoseperformances,which he entitledOdes, compositionsin whi ch the young au thor had widely mistakenthe nature of his own geniu s . Even the eye of

Dryden was unable to discover the wit and thesatir ist in the clou ds of incomprehensible pindaricobscurity in which he was enveloped ; and theaged bard pronounced the hasty, and never to bepardoned sentence, Cousin Swift, you will neverbe a poet.” A doomwhich he,on whom it was passed,attempted to repay, by repeated, although impotent

the in trodu ct ion to The Tale of a Tub,” whichwaswri ttenabou t 1692 .

These n ot icesmay serve to g ive the learn ed reader an idea,as wel l as taste, ofwhat the whole work i s l ikely to prod u ce,wherein I have n ow al together c ircumscr ibed my thou gh tsan d my stu d ies ; an d, if I can bring i t to a perfect ion beforeI d ie, I shal l reckon I have well employed the poor remain so f an u n fortun ate l ife . Th is in deed i smore than I can j u stlyexpect, from a qu i l l worn to the pi th in the service of th es tate, in p ros and cons u pon popish plots, an d meal tubs, a nd

exclu sion bi lls, and passive obed ience, and addresses of l ivesand fortu n es, and prerogative, an d property, an d l iberty ofcon sci en ce, an d letters t o a fri end ; froman u nderstand ingand a con sc ience, threadbar e an d ragged wi th perpetu al tu rning ; froma head broken in a hu n dred places by themal ign an ts of the opposi te fact ion s ; and from a body spen t wi thpoxes i l l cu red , by tru st ing to bawd s an d su rgeon s, who, asi t afterward s appeared , were professed en emi es to me an d

the governmen t, an d revenged their party’s qu arrel u pon myn ose an d sh in s . Fou rscore an d eleven pamph lets have Iwr i tten u n der three reign s, and for the service of six an d

th irty fact ion s . Bu t fin d ing the state h as n o far ther occasionfor me an d my ink, I retire will ingly to draw i t ou t in tospecu lation s more becoming a philosopher ; having, to myu n speakable comfort, passed a long l ife wi th a con sc iencevo id of offence."


attacks upon the fame of Dryden, everywherescattered through his works . With the exceptionof Swift, no author of eminence, whose labour s arestill in request, has ventured to assail the poeticalfame of Dryden.

Shortly after the Revolution, Dryden had translated several satires of Juvenal ; and calling in theaid of his two sons, of Congreve, Creech, Tate,and others, he was enabled, in 1 692, to give a complete version both of that satirist, and of Persiu s .In thi s un dertaking he himself bore a large share,translating the whole of Persius, with the first .thi rd, s ixth, tenth, and sixteenth satires of Juvenal.l

To this vers ion i s prefixed the noted Essay on Satire, inscribed to the Earl of Dorset and Middlesex .

In that treatise, our author exhibits a good deal ofthat sort of learning which was in fashion amongthe French critics ; and, I su spect, was contentedrather to borrowsomething from them, than pu thimself to the trouble of compiling more valuablematerials . Such is the disquisition concerning theorigin of theword S atire,which is chiefly extractedfrom Casaubon, Dacier, and Rigau lt. But thepoet’s own incidental remarks upon the comparative merit s of Horace, Ju venal, and Persiu s, hisdeclamation against the abuse of satire, hi s incidental notices respect ing epic poetry, translat ion,

1 To in fu se th e strength ,warmth ,an d bold con ci sen ess ofPersiu s in to our language, was a labou r of n o common exortion , an d , in the prosecu t ion of i t

,we fi n d Dryden fai l from

vulgari ty, Brewster fromplag i ar i sm, an d S ir Wi ll iamDrummon d froman en deavou r to grin d the fruges Clean theos in towa s de societ —Qua rterly Review, A pri l,

320 L IFE o r JOHN DRYDEN.

and English literature in general, rende r thisintroduction highly valuable .

Without noticing the short prefaces to Walsh’sE ssay upon Woman,

” a meagre and stiff compositiou, and to Sir Henry Shere

’s wretched translation of Polybius, published in 1 691 and 1692, wehasten to the elegy on the Countess of A bingdon ,entitled Eleonora. This lady died suddenly, S l stMay, 1691 , in a ball - room in her own house, justthen prepared for an entertainment. The disconsolate husband, who seems to have been a patronof the Muses, l not satisfied with the volunteereffusions of some minor poets, employed a mutualfriend to engage Dryden to compose a more beautiful tribute to his consort’s memory. The poet, itwould seem, neither knew the lord nor the lady,but was doubtless propitiated with a proper andsatisfactory offerin g upon the mournful occas ion ; 2

1 Robert Gou ld, au thor of that scan dalou s lampoon again stDryden , en t i tled The Lau reat,” in scribes h i s col lect ion of

poems, prin ted 1688- 9, t o the Earl of A bingdon ; an d i t cont ain s some pieces addressed to himand to h is lady. He su rvivedalso to compose, on the Earl ’s death , in 1 700, The Mou rn ingSwan ,” an eclogu e to h ismemory, in wh ich a sh epherd g ivest he following accou n t of the proximate cau se of that even t

Men alcas. T o tell you tru e, (whoe ’er i tmay di splease,)He d ied of the Physician—a d iseaseThat long has reigned , and eager of ren own,More than a plagu e depopu lates the town .

Inflamed wzt li wme, an d blasti ng at a breath,A ll i ts p rescr ip t i ons are receipts for death.M i ll ions ofmischiefs by i ts rage are wrought,S afewhere ’

t is fled , bu t barbarou swhere ’t is sought ;A cursed ingratefu l i ll, that cal l’d to aid ,

Is stillmost fatalwhere it best is paid. "9 Howfar th iswas n ecessary, the reader may judge fromMiraua,

”a fun eral eclogu e sacred to the memory of that


Dryden’s unusual economy of adulation ; at least“

he disappointed some expect at ions which the poetand bookseller seem to have ente rtained of hisliberality.

l This dedication indicates, that a quarrel was commenced between our author and thecritic Rymer. It appears from a passage in a letterto Tonson, that Rymer had spoken lightly of himin his last critique, (probably in the short viewof

tragedy,) and that the poet took this opportunity,as he himself expresses it, to snarl again. Hetherefore acquaints us roundly, that the corruptionof a poet was the generation of a critic exults alittle over the memory of Rymer’s Edgar,

” atragedy just reeking from damnation ; and hintsat the difference which the public is likely to experience between the present royal historiographerand himwhose room he occupied . In his epistleto Congreve, alluding to the same circumstance ofRymer’s succeeding to the offi ce of hi storiogra

pher, as Tate did to the laurel, on the death of

Thomas Shadwell, in 1692, Dryden has thesehumorous lines :

0 that you r browsmy lau rel had su stain’

d

Well had I been deposed , ifyou had reign’

d ;

The father had d escen ded for the son ;For on ly you are l in eal to the thron e.Thu s, when the sta te on e Edward d id depose,A greater Edward in h is roomarose

1 30th A ugust, 1693, Dryden wri tes to Tonson , I amsure youthought my Lord Ratc lifi e would have don e somethi ng ; Igll l 'SS t'dmore tru ly, that he cou ld nou n—Dryden ? Works, vol. xvnh, p. 109 .

The expressi on , perhaps, appli es rather to his lordship’s wan t of

ability than in cli nation ; and Dryden says indeed , in the ded i cat i on ,

that it is in hi s natu re to be an encourager o f good poets, thou gh for.tu ne has n ot yet pu t in to his hand s the power of expressing i t. In a

le tter to Mrs Steward, Dryden speaks of Ratclifle as a poet, and

none orthe best.” -Ibi d., p. 177.

L IFE or JOHN DRYDEN. 323:

Bu t n ownot I , bu t poe try, i s cursed ;For Tomthe second reign s l ike Tomthe first.Bu t let themn ot mi stakemy patron

’s part,Nor cal l h is char i ty their own d esert.”

From the letter to Tonson above referred to,it would seem that the dedicat ion of the ThirdMiscellany gave offence to Queen Mary, beingunderstood to reflect u pon her government, andthat she had commanded Rymer to return to thecharge, by a criticism on Dryden’s plays . But thebreach does not appear to have becomewider ; andDryden has elsewhere mentioned Rymer with

The Third Miscellany contained, of Dryden’s

poet ry, a few Songs, the First Book, with part ofthe Ninth and Sixteenth Books of the Metamorphoses, and the parting of Hector and A ndromache, from the Iliad. It was also to have hadthe poem of Hero and Leander, from the Greekbut none such appeared, nor is it clear whetherDryden ever executed the version, or only had itin contemplation.

‘ The contribution, althoughainple , was n ot satisfactory to old Jacob Tonson ,whowrote on the subject a most mercantile expostulatory letter to Dryden, whi ch is fortunately stillpreserved, as a curious specimen of the minutiaeof a literary bargain in the seventeenth century.

Tonson, with reference to Dryden having offereda strange bookseller six hun dred lines for twentyguineas, en ters into a question in the rule of three»

.

by which he discovers, and proves, that for fifty

Dryden 's Works, vol . “iii., p. 107.


guineas he has only 1446 lines, which he seemsto take more unkindly, as he had not coun ted the

lines u ntil he had paid the money from all whichJacob infers, that Dryden ought , ou t of generosity,at least to throw himin something to the bargain,especially as he had used himmore kindly in Juvenal, which, saith the said Jacob, is n ot reckonedso easy to translate as Ovid . What weight wasgiven to this supplication does not appear ; probably very little, for the translations were not

ext ended ; and as to getting back any part of thecopy-money, it is n ot probable Tonson

’s most

sanguine expectations ever reached that point.Perhaps the songs were thrown in as a makeweight. Therewas a Fourth Miscellany publishedin 1 694 ; but to this Dryden only gave a versionof the Third Georgie, and his Epistle to Sir Godfrey Kneller, the requital of a copy of the portraitof Shakspeare .

l

In 1 693, Dryden addressed the beautiful linesto Congreve, on the cold reception of his DoubleD ealer. He was himself under a similar cloud,from the failure of Love Triumphant,

” and therefore in a fit mood to administer consolation to hisfr iend. The epistle contains, among other strikingp assages, the affecting charge of the care of his

posthumous fame, which Congreve did not forgetwhen Dryden was n o more.”

Copied fromth e Chan dos pictu re. Kn el ler’s copy is nowat Wen tworth- Hou se, the seat of Earl Fi tzwi ll iam.

9 [See Congreve’s Preface to Dryden ’s Plays, in Works,

vol. i i., p. 7 . The l in es of Dryden al lu ded to, areA ‘ready Iamworn with cares and ag e,

A nd j u st abandon ing the ungratefu l stage


k in sman and n amesake, John Driden , Esq. The version of

t he first Georgie, and a great par t of the last ZEneid ,wasmad ea t Den ham- Cou rt, in Bu ck inghamsh ire, the seat of SirWi ll iamBowyer, Baron et ; an d the seven th ZEn e id was tran slated atBur leigh, the n obleman sion of the Earl of Exeter. Thesec ircumstances,wh ich mu st be ackn owledged ta bs of no greatimportan ce, 1 yet have thou gh t i t proper to record, becau set hey wi ll for ever en dear those place s t o the votari es of theMu ses, an d add to thema kin d of celebri ty, wh ich n eith er thebeau t i es of n ature, nor the exertion s of art, can bestow.

”

Neither was the liberality of the nation entirelyd isproportioned to the general import ance att achedt o the translation of Virgil, by so eminent a poet.The researches ofMr Malone have ascertained, insome degree, the terms . There were two classesOf subscribers, the first set Ofwhom paid five guineasa - piece to adorn the work with engravings ; beneatheach of which, in due and grateful remembrance,was blazoned the arms of a subscriber : this classamounted to on e hundred and one personsf

’ and

p resents an assemblage of noble names, few ofwhom are distingui shed more to their credit thanby the place they there occupy. The second subscribers were two hundred and fifty in number,at two gu ineas each. But from these sums was tobe deduced the expense of the engravings, thoughthese were only the plates used for Ogilby

’s Vir

gil,3 a little retouched . Besides the subscriptions,

The an t iqu arymay n ow search in vain for th i s frai l memori al ; for the hou se of Chesterton was, 1807, pulled downfor the sake of themater ials.[See a l i st of their n ames in D ryden ’s Works, vol. xi i i . ,

p . 283, ct seq. ]3 [Th is Virg i l was on e of the first books that had any th ing

of a subscr ip tion (and even that was a good deal on accoun t


it would seem, that Dryden received from Tonsonfifty poun ds for each Book of the Georgics” andE neid,

” and probably the same for the Pastorals ” collectively. On the other hand, it is probable,that Jacob charged a price for the copies deliveredto the subscribers, which, with the expense of theplates, reduced Dryden

’s profit to about twelve orthirteen hundred pounds — a trifl ing sum whencompared to what Pope received for the Ili ad,

”

whi ch was certainly between L .5000 and L .6000 ;

yet great in proportion to what the age of Drydenhad ever afforded, as an encouragement to literature .It mu st indeed be con fessed, that the Revolutionhad given a n ew impulse and superior importancet o literary pur suits . The semi- barbarous age,whichsucceeded the great civil war, had been civilizedbu t by slow degrees . It is true, the king andcourtiers, among their disorderly and dissolute

pleasures, enumerated songs and plays, and, in thecourse of their political intrigues, held satires inrequest ; but they had neither money nor time tospare for the encouragement or study of any of thehigher and more elaborate departments of poetry.

Meanwhile, the bulk of the nation neglected verse,as What they could not understand, or, with pur i

of the prin ts,wh ich were Ogilby’s plates tou ched up) as th eTatlers were the fi rst great su bscr iption D rydencl eared everyway abou t L . 1200 by hi s Virg il, an d had sixpence each lin e for h is Fables . For some time h e wrote a play(at least) every year ; bu t in tho se days ten broad pieces wast he u sual highest price for a play ; and if they got L 50morein the act ing , it was reckon ed very well .”—Pors, 1742 .

Sp ence'

s A necdotes (Malon e), p.


tanical bigotry, dete sted as sinful the use, as wellas the abuse, of poetical talent . But the lapse ofthirty years made a material change in the mannersof the English people. Instances began to occurof individu als, who rising at first into notice for their

proficience in the fine arts, were finally promotedfor their active and penetrat ing talents, whichnecessarily ac company a turn towards them . A n

outward reformation ofmanners, at least the generalabj uration of grosser profligacy,was also favourableto poetry,

S till first to fly where sen su al joys in vade .”

This was wrought, partly by the religious manners ofMary ; part lybythe cold and unsocial temperofW illiam,who shunned excess,not perhaps becauseit was criminal, but because it was derogatorypartly by the political fashion of the day,which wasto disown the profligacy that marked the partisansof the Stuarts ; but, most of all, by the generalincrease of good taste, and the improvement of

education . A ll these contributed to the encouragement of Dryden’s great un dertaking, whi ch promised to rescue Virgil from the degrading versionof Ogilby, and present him in a becoming form toa public, nowprepared to receive himwith meritedadmiration.

While our author was labouring in this greatwork, and the publi c were waiting the issue withimpatience and attention, a feud, of which it is n owimpossible to trace the cause, arose between the

1 [Goldsmi th’s D eserted Vi llage ]


Classics, witn ess those on Juvenal and Persins,

” he neither indulged in cr itical dissertationson particular beauties and defects, nor in generalremarks upon the kin d of poetry before him ; butcontented himself with rendering into English theantiquarian dissertations ofDacier and other foreigncommentators, with now and then an explanatoryparaphrase of an obscure passage. The parodi esofMartin Scriblerus had not yet consigned to ridicule the verbal criticism, and solemn trifl ing, withwhich the ancient schoolmen pretended to illustratethe classics . But besides the di spute about then otes in particular, and the various selfish advan

t ages whi ch Dryden suspected Tonson of attempting to secure in the course of the transaction, heseems to have been particularly afi’ronted at a presumptuous plan of that publisher, (a keenWhig,and secretary of the Kit- cat club,) to drive him intoinscribing the translation of Virgil to King William. With this view, Tonson had an especialcare to make the engraver aggravate the nose of

E neas in the plates into a sufiicient resemblance ofthe hooked promontory of the Deliverer’s count enan ce ;

l and, foreseeing Dryden’s repugnance to

his favour ite plan , he had recourse, it would seem,

3Thi s gave r i se to a good epigramOld Jacob, by deep j u dgment sway’d,T o please the W i se beholders

,

Has placed old Nassau ’s hookmosed headOn poor old E neas’ shou lders.Tomake the parallel hold tack,Methinks there ’s little lacking ;

One took his father pick-a-pack,And ’tother sent his packing.

"


to more unjustifiable means to further it ; for thepoet expresses himself, as convinced, that, throughTon son

’

s means, his correspondence with his sons,then at Rome,was intercepted . Isuppose Jacob,hav ing fairly laid siege to his author’s conscience,had no scruple to intercept all foreign supplies,which might have confirmed him in his pert inafcity. But Dryden, al though thus closely belea

guered, held fast his integrity ; and no prospect ofpersonal advantage, or importunity on the part ofTonson, could indu ce him to take a step inconsistent with hi s religiou s and political sentiments.

It was probably dur ing the course of these bickerings with his publisher, that Dryden, incensed atsome refusal of accommodation on the part of

Tonson, sent him three well -known coarse andforcible satirical lines, descriptive of his personalappearance

Wi th l eer ing looks, bu l l- faced , and freck led fair,Wi th two left legs, an d Judas- colour ’

d hair,

A n d frowz y pores, that tain t the ambien t air.

Tell the dog,” said the poet to the messenger

,

I amofyou r Opin ion ,” says the poe t to h is son Charles,that, by Tou son ’

amean s, almost all our letters havemiscarr ied for th is last year. Bu t, however, he has mi ssed of h isd esign in the ded icat ion , though he had prepared the book fori t ; for, in every figure of ZEn eas, he has cau sed himto bed rawn , l ike King Wil l i am, wi th a hooked n ose . -Drydenh in ts to Ton son h imself h is su spicion of thi s u nworthy device,des iring himto forward a letter to his son Charles, bu t not bypost. Being sati sfied, that Ferrand wil l do by thi s as he didby two letterswh ich I sen tmy son s, abou t my ded ica t ing tothe k ing, of wh ich they rece ived n ei ther."—Dryden

’s Works,

vol. xvi i i . , pp. 132, 140.

'


that he who wrote these can write more .

” ButT onson, perfectly satisfied with this single triplet,hastened to comply with the author’s request,without requ iring any fu r ther specimen of hispoetical powers . l It would seem, on the other

These descript ive l in es,” says MrNichol s, wh ich hadth e d esired efi

'

ect, by some mean s got abroad in man u script ;an d n ot long after D ryden ’s death, were in serted in ‘Fact z

’

on

D isp layed,’ a satirical poem, said to have been wri tten by Ship

p en, and extremely popu lar among the Tories. Ton son beingsecretary to the Kzt Cat Club, which was composed of the

most d istingu i shed Whigs, could n ot escape th e n ot ice of aTory satiri st, who gave ven t to h i s spleen again st him in

l in es, by wh ich he has preserved a description that Drydenprobably n ever in ten ded to be tran smi tted to posteri ty.

”

A fter qu ot in g eleven cou plets, MrNichols adds, “Jacob Ton

son , however plain in h is appearan ce, was certain ly a worthyman , an d was n ot on ly res pected as an hon est an d opu len tt rad er, bu t after Dryden ’s dea th l ived in fami l iar in timacywi th some of the most con siderable person s of the early par tof the last cen tu ry. John D un ton says of him, He was avery good j u dge of per son s an d au thors ; an d as there i s n obodymore competen tly qu al ified to g ive their opin ion of an other, sothere i s n on ewho does i t wi thmore severe exactn ess orwi thless part ial i ty ; for to do Mr Ton son ju st ice, he speaks h i smin d u pon all occas ion s, an d wi l l flatter n obody. ’ He u sed tosay, that Dryden was j ealou s of r ivals.’ - L z

'

tera7y A neodotes, vol. i ., p . 293.

On the other han d, we fi nd the poet thu s addressing hi spubl i sher . You kn ow,

” says Dryden, (in a letter to Ton

s on , Works, vol . xvi i i . , p . mon ey i s n owvery scru pulou sly rece ived . In the last which you d id me the favou r tochange for mywife, besides the clipp edmoney, there were a tleast forty shillings, brass I A gain , (ibid . , p. I expectL .5O in good silver, n ot su ch as I have had formerly. I amn ot

obl iged to take gold, n ei ther wi ll I ; n or stay for i t beyon dfour-and- twen ty hou rs after i t i s du e . You always in tendedfl shou ld get n othing by the second su bscription s, as I fou ndfromfirst to last .” An d again , (ibid. , p . u pon tr ial, Ifi nd all your trade are sharpers ; an d you n ot more thano thers, th erefore I have not wholly left you .

”


public than the bookseller, whose trade can onlyexist by buying that which can be sold to advan

t age . The trader, who purchased the ParadiseLost ” for ten pounds, had probably no very goodbargain.

However fi’

etted by these teazing and almosthumiliating discussions, Dryden continued stead ilyadvanc ing in his great labour ; and about threeyears after it had been undertaken, the translation of Virgil, the most noble and spiri ted,

” saidPope, which I know in any language,

” was

gi ven to the public in July, So eager wasthe general expect at ion, that the first edi tion wasexhausted in a fewmonths , and a second publishede arly in the next year. It satisfied,

” says JOlinson , his friends, and, for the most part, silencedhis enemies .” But, although thi s was generallythe case, there wanted not some to exercise theinvidious task of criticism, or rather of malevolentdetraction . Among those, the highest name is thatof Swift ; the most distinguished for venomousand persevering malignity, that ofMilbourne .In his Epistle to Pr ince Posterity, prefixed to

the Tale of a Tu Swift, in the character of

the dedi cator, declares, upon the word of a sinc ere man, that there is now actually in being a

Ibegau tran slating the Il iad,” says Pope, inmy twen tyfi fth year, an d i t took u p that and fivemore to fin i sh i t . Dryd en , though they always talk of h is being h u rr ied so mu ch,was as long in tran slating Virgi l . I n deed , hewrote plays ando ther th ings in the same per iod Sp ence

’

s Anecdotes, (Ma.

[one,) p.

L IFE or JOHN DRYDEN. 335 .

certain poet, called John Dryden,whose translat ionof Virgil was lately printed in a large folio, wellboun d, and, if diligent search were made, for aughtI know, is yet to be seen.

” In his Battle of theBooks,

” he tells us,

That Dryden , who en cou n tered V irgil, soothed the goodan c ien t by the en dear ing t itle of ‘ father,’ an d, by a larged edu ct ion of gen ealogies, made i t appear, that they weren early related, and humbly proposed an exchange of armouras amark of hospital i ty, Virgi l con sen ted , thou gh h is was ofgold, an d co st an hun dred beeves, the other’s bu t of ru sty iron .

H owever, th i s gl ittering armour became the modern stillworse than h i s own . Then they agreed to exchange horses ;bu t , when i t came to the tri al, Dryden was afraid , an d u tterlyu nable to moun t. "

A yet more bitter reproach is levelled by thewit against the poet, for his tr iple dedi cation of thePastorals, Georgics, and E neid, to three severalpatrons, Clifford, Chesterfield, and Mulgrave“

l I con fess to have been somewhat l iberal in th e bu sin essof t i tles, having observed the humou r of mu lt iply ing them,

to bear grea t vogu e among certain wri ters,whomI exceed ingly reveren ce. A n d in deed i t seems n ot u n reason able, thatbooks, th e children of the brain

,shou ld have the hon ou r to

be chri sten ed wi th varie ty of n ames, as wel l as other in fan tsof qu al i ty. Ou r famou s Dryden has ven tu red to proceed a

po in t farther, en deavour ing to in trod u ce also amu l t ipl ic ity ofgod

- fathers ; which is an improvemen t ofmuch more advantage, u pon a very Obviou s acco u n t. It i s a pi ty th i s admirable in ven t ion has n ot been bet ter cul ti vated , so as to growby this t ime in to gen eral imi tation , when su ch an au thori tyserves i t for a preceden t. Nor have my en deavou rs beenwan ting to second so u sefu l an example : bu t, i t seems, th ereis an u nhappy expen se u su ally ann exed to the call ing of a

godfather, which was c learly ou t of my head, as i t i s veryreason able to bel ieve. Where the pmch lay, I can n ot certain lyaffi rm; bu t , having employed a world of though ts an d pain sto sp li t my treatise in to forty sec tion s, and havin g en treated


But, though the recollection of the contemnedOdes, like themeta inj uria form of Juno, stillcontinued to prompt these overflowings of Swift

’ssatire, he had too much taste and perception of

poetry to attempt , gravel‘y, to undermine, by aformal criticism, the merits of Dryden

’s Virgil .This was reserved for Luke Milbourne, a cler

gyman , who, by that assurance, has consigned hisn ame to no very honourable immortality. Thisperson appears to have had a living at GreatYarmouth,‘ which, Dryden hints, he forfeited bywriting libels on his par ishioners ; and from an

other testimony, he seems to have been a personof no very strict morals .2 Milbourne was once anadmirer of our poet, as appears from his letterconcerning Amphitryon .

” But either poeticalrivalry, for he had also thought Of translating Vir

gil himself,‘ or politi cal animos ity, for he seems to

fort y lords of my acqu ain tan ce, that th ey wou ld do me thehon ou r to stand . they allmade i t amatter of con scien ce, an dsen tme the ir excu ses.

Besides the n otes on Virgil, hewrotemany single sermon s,and ametrical vers ion of th e Psalms, an d d i ed in 1 720.

aHe i s descr ibed as a rake, in The Pac ificator,” a poem

bought by Mr L u t trel, 15th Feb. 1699- 1 700, wh ich g ives anaccou n t of a su pposed battle between the men of wit, and

men of sen se, as the poet call s themM — as, a renegade fromwi t, came on ,

A ndmad e a false attack, and next t o n one ;The priest, the rake, thewit, strove all in vain ,For there, alas ! he l i es among the slain .

Memen tomor i see the consequ ence ,When rakes an d wits set u p formen of sense. "

3 [See D ryden’s Works, vol . vi i i . , p .

Th i sMrMalon e has proved by the following extract fromMotteu x

’

s Gen tleman ’

s Jou rn al That best ofpoets," says


fragments of that which had been suppressed byDryden’s version . A short specimen, both of hiscr iticism and poetry, will convince the reader, thatthe powers of the critic were, as has been oftenthe case, neutralized by the insipidity of the poet ;for who can rely on the judgment of one so illqualified to illustrate his own precepts ? I takethe remarks on the tenth Eclogue, as a specimen,at hazard.

“Thi s eclogu e i s tran slated in a strain too lu sciou s an d

efl'

eminate for Virgil,whomigh t bemoan h is frien d, bu t doesi t in a noble an d a man ly style,wh ich Mr Ogi lby an swersbe tter than Mr D . ,whose paraphrase looks l ike on e of Mrs

Behn ’s, when somebody had tu rn ed the or igin al in to Engli shprose before.Where Virgi l says,

L am-i clmyricazflevére,

the figure’s beau t iful ; where Mr D. says,the la u rel stands in tears,

A nd hu ng wz th humid p earls, the lowly shru b app ears,the figu re i s lost, an d a foo l ish an d impertin en t represen tationcomes in i ts place an ord in ary dewymorn ingmight ti l l th elau rel s an d shru bs wi th Mr D.

’

s tears, though Gallu s hadn ot been con cern ed in i t.

And yet the queen of beau ty blest his bed

Here Mr D . comes wi th h i s ugly patch u pon a beau tifu lface : what had the qu een of beau ty to do here ? L ycori sdid n ot d espise her lover for h is mean n ess, bu t becau se sh ehad amin d to be a Cathol ic whore. Gal lu s was of qual i ty,bu t her spark a poor in ferior fellow. A n d yet the qu een of

beau ty, 8m. wou ld have followed there very well, bu t n otwhere wan ton Mr D. has fixt her.

Flush'd were his cheeks, and g lowing were his eyes.

Th is character i s fi tter for on e that i s dru nk,than one in

an amaz emen t, an d i s a though t u n becoming Virgi l.Andfor thy r ival, temp t: the rag ing sea,

Theform: of horridwar. and heaven mclememy .


Lycori s, dou btless, was a j ilting baggage, bu twhy shou ldMr D . bel ie her ? Virg i l talks n oth ing of her go ing to sea,

and perhaps she had a min d to be on ly a camp lau n dress,which ofiice shemigh t be advan ced to wi thou t going to seathe forms of horr id war, for horrida castra, i s in comparable.

his brows, a cou n try crownOffennel, and of n odding lzlzes drown ,

is a very odd figu re Sylvanu s had swinging brows to drownsu ch a crown as that, i. e. tomake i t invisible, to swal low i tu p ; if i t be a cou n try crown , drown h is brows, i t i s falseEngl ish.

Themeads are sooner drunkwi thmorn ing dews.

Rim' sign ifies n o su ch thing ; bu t then , that bees shou ldbe dru nkwi th flowery shru bs, or goats be drun kwi th bron z e,for d ru n k’s the verb, i s a very quain t thought.”

A fter much more to the same purpose, Milbourne thu s introduces his own version of the firstEclogue, with a confidence worthy of a betterc ause

ThatMr Dryden might be sat isfied that I’d offer n o fou lplay

, n or fi n d fau l ts in him,wi thou t giving himan opportu

n ity of retal iation , I have su bjo in ed an other metaphrase ortran slat ion of the First an d Fou rth Pastoral, wh ich I d esiremay be read wi th h is by the orig inal.

TITYRUS.

scree ns r.‘

Mel. Beneath a spread ing beech you , Tityrus, h e,A nd coun try songs to humble reeds apply ;We ou r sweet fields, our n ative cou n try fly,W e leave our cou n try ; you in shadesmay lie,A nd Amaryllis fair and blythe proclaim,

A ndmake thewoods repeat her buxomn ame.Tat. O Mehbaau s ! ’twas a bou n teous God,

These peacefu l play-days on ou rmu se bestow'd ;A t least, he ’st alway be a God tomeMy lambs shall oft his gratefu l offerings be.Thou seest, he letsmy herds securely stray,A ndme at pleasure on my pipe to play.Mel. Your peace Idon ’twith looks of envy view,

But I admire your happy state, and you.


In all our farms severe distract ion reign s,No anc ien t owner there in peace remains.S ick, I, withmu ch ado ,my goats can drive,This, Ti tyrus. Iscarce can lead auve ;On the bare ston es . among you haz els past ,Just now, alas ! her ho pefu l twins she cast.Y e t had no t al l on

’s du ll and sen se less been ,

We'd long ago n thi s comi ng stroke foreseen.

Oft d id the blas ted oaks ou r fate unfold,A nd bodi ng choughs fromhollowtrees foretold.

B u t say, good'

I‘

i tyru s ! tellme who 's the God.Who peace, so lost to us, on you bestow

'd

Some critics there were, though but few, whojoinedMilbourne in his abortive attempt to degradeour poet’s translation. Oldmixon, celebrated forhis share in the games of the Dun ciad,

l and Samuel

See the Preface to A Fu n eral Idy ll, sacred to the gloriou s Memory of King Wi l l iam I I I . , by Mr Oldmixon .

In th e Idyl l on the peace, I made the first essay to throwoff rhymes, and the k ind reception that poemmet wi th, hasencou raged me to attempt i t again . I have n ot been persu adedbymy frien ds to change the ti tle of Idyl l in to Idyll ium; forhaving an Engl i sh word set me by Mr Dryden , wh ich heu ses in d ifferen tly wi th the Greek, I though t i t might be asproper in an Engl ish poem. I shal l n ot be so l ic i tou s to ju st ifymyself to those who except again st h i s au thori ty, t i ll theyprodu ceme a be tter : I have heard himblamed for h is inn ovat ions an d coin ing of words, even by person s who havealready been sufli cien tly gu i lty of the fau lt they lay to h i scharge ; and shown u s what we are to expec t from them,

were their names aswell se ttled as h is. If I had qu alification senough t o do it su ccessful ly, I should advise them to wr i temore n atu ral ly, d el icately, and reason ably themselves, beforet hey attack Mr Dryd en ’s repu tation : an d to th ink there i ssometh ingmore n ecessary to make aman wr i tewe ll, than thefavou r of the great, or the su ccess of a fac t ion . We haveevery year seen howfickle Fortu n e has been to her declaredfavou r i tes ; and men ofmer i t, as well as he who has n on e,have su fl'ered by her incon stan cy, as mu ch as they got by hersmiles. This shou ld alarmsu ch as are emin en tly indebted toher, andmay be of use to themin their fu tu re reflection s on


publi c, and it was rather to clear himself from the

malignant charges against his moral principles,which Milbou rne had mingled with his criticism

,

than for any other purpose, that the poet deemedhis antagonist worthy of the following an imadversion : 1

Mi lbou rn e,who i s in orders, preten ds amongst th e restth i s qu arrel tome, that I have fall en fou l on pri estcraft : if Ih ave, I amon ly to ask pardon of good pr i ests, an d am afraidhis part of the reparation will come to l i ttle . Let himbesatisfied, that he shal l n ot be able to force h imself u pon mefor an adversary. I con temn him too mu ch to en ter in tocompeti t ion wi th him. H is own tran slation s of Virg i l havean swered his cr i t ici sms on min e . If (as they say, he hasd eclared in prin t) h e prefers th e version Of Og i lby to min e,theworld hasmade himthe same compl imen t for i t i s agreedon al l han ds, that h ewr i tes even belowOg i lby. That, youwi l l say, i s not easi ly to be don e ; bu t what cann o t Mi lbourn ebr ing abou t ? Iamsatisfied, however, that wh i le he and I

l ive together, I shall n ot be though t the worst poe t of th eage. I t looks as if I had d es ired himu nderhan d to wr i te soi ll again stme bu t, u pon my hon est word, I have n ot bribedh im to do me th i s service, and amwholly gu i ltless of h i spamph let. I t i s tru e, I shou ld be glad i f I cou ld persu adehim to con tin u e h is good offices, and wr i te su ch anothercri t iqu e on any th ing of min e ; for I fi nd, by experi en ce, h ehas a great strokewi th the reader, when he condemn s any of

my poems, tomake the world have a better Opin ion of them.

H e has taken some pain s wi th my poetry ; bu t n obody wi llbe persu aded to take th e same wi th h i s. If I had taken to

the chu rch, (as h e affirms, bu t wh ich was n ever in myt houghts,) I shou ld have had more sen se, if n ot more grace,than to have tu rn ed myself ou t of my ben efice, by wri tingl ibels on my pari sh ion ers. Bu t h is accou n t of myman n ers,an d of my prin ciples, are of a. piecewi th h is cavi ls an d hispoetry ; and so I have don e wi th himfor ever.”

1 Preface to the Fables, Dryden ’sWorks, vol. xi., p. 235.9 [Mr D

'

Israeli, in h is Preface to the Qu arells of A u thors,” saysI aminclined to think, thatwhat indu ced me to select this topi c,were the l iterary qu arrelswhich JOHNSONhas gi ven between Dryden


While Dryden was engag ed with his greattranslation, he found two months

’

leisure to executea prose version of Fresnoy

’s Art of Painting,

”

to which he added an ingenious preface, the workof twelve mornings, containing a parallel betweenthat art and poetry ; of which Mason has said, thatthough too superficial to stand the test of strictcriticism, yet it will always give pleasure to read ersof taste, even when it fails to convince their judgment. This version appeared in 1 695. Mr Ma

lone conjectures that our author was engaged inthis task by his friends Closterman , and Sir Godfrey Kneller, artists, who had been active in procuring subscriptions for his Virgil. He also wrotea L ife of Lucian,

”for a translation of his works,

by Mr Walter Moyle, Sir Henry Shere, and othergentlemen of pretension to learning. Thi s version, though it did not appear till after his death,and although he executed no part of the translation, still retains the title of Dryden’s Lucian .

”

There was on e event of political importancewhich occurred in December 1695, and which thepublic seemto have expected should have employedthe pen of Dryden - this was the death ofMary,W ife of W illiam the Third. It is difficult to conceive inwhat manner the poet laureat of the u nfortunate James could have treated the memory of

his dau ghter. Satire was dangerous, and had ihdeed been

\

renounced by the poet and panegyricand Settle, D enn is and A ddison , & c., an d Mr Warren Scorr,who,amt the fresh creations of fan cy can delve for the buried tru ths ofresearch, in his narrative of the Quarrel of Dryden and Luke Mil.


was contrary to the principles for which he wassuffering. Yet, among the swarm of rhymers whothrust themselves upon the nation on that mournful occasion, there are fewwho do not call, withfriendly or u nfriendly voice, upon our poet tobreak silence .

l But the vo ice of praise and censurewas heard in vain, and Dryden

’s only interferencewas, in character of the first judge of his time, toaward the prize to the Duke of Devonshire, asauthor of the best poem composed on the occasionof the Queen’s death.

2

Virgil was hardly finished, when our author distinguished himself by the immortal Ode to SaintCecili a, commonly called A lexander’s Feast. ”

There is some difference of evidence concerningthe time occupied in thi s splendid task. He hadbeen solicited to undertake it by the stewards ofthe Musical Meeting, which had for several yearsmet to celebrate the feast of St Cecilia, their

1 See several extracts fromthese poems, in th e A ppend ix toD ryden ’s Works, vol. xvi i . , p. 22, whi ch I have thrown to

gether to showhowmu ch Dryden was con sidered as sovereignamong the poets of the t ime.

Thi s I learn fromHon ori Sacellum, 8 Fun eral Poem, tothe Memory of Wi ll i am, Duke of Devon sh ire, 1707

’Twas so ,when the destroyer's dreadfu l dartOnce p ierced throu gh o urs, to fair Maria’s heart.Fromhl8 state-he lmthen some short hou rs he stole,T

’ ind u lge hi sme lting eyes, and bleed i ng sou l :W h i lst his be n t knees, to those remai ns d ivin e,Paid the ir last ofi ering to that royal shri ne."

On wh ich l in es occurs th is explan atory n ote A n Ode,composed by His Grace, on the death of the late Qu een Mary,jystly adjudged by the ingen ious Mr D ryden to ha ve exceeded all

that had been written on tha t occasion .

”


i s strong internal evidence to show, that the poemwas, speaking with reference to its general strueture, wrought off at once. A halt or pause, evenof a day, would perhaps have injured that contin u ou s flow of poetical langu age and description,which argu es the whole scene to have arisen at

once upon the author’s imagination. It seemspossible more especially in lyrical poetry, to discover where the author has paused for any lengthof time for the union of the parts is rarely so perfeet as not to show a different strain of thought andfeeling. There may be something fanciful, however, in this reasoning, whi ch I therefore abandonto the reader’s mercy only begging him to observe,that we have no mode of estimating the exertionsof a quality so capricious as a poetic imagination ;so that it is very possible, that the Ode to StCecilia may have been the work of twenty - fourhours, Whilst corrections and emendations, perhapof no very great consequence, occu pied the authoras many days. Derrick, in his Life of Dryden,

”

tells us, upon the authority ofWalter Moyle, thatthe society paid Dryden L .4O, for this sublime Ode,which, from the passage in his letter above quoted,seems to have been more than the bard expectedat commencing his labour . The music for thiscelebrated poem was originally composed by Jeremiah Clarke,l on e of the stewards of the festival,

c ion s an d acu te in themselves, an d of deci sive au thor i ty,wheni t i s con sidered fromwhat qu arter they

Th is d iscoverywasmade by the researches of MrMalon e.Dr Bu rn ey describe s Clarke as excel l ing in the tender an dp lain t ive, to which he was prompted by a temperamen t of.


whose productions were more remarkable for deeppathos, and delicacy, than for fire and energy. It

i s probable, that, with such a turn of mind andtaste, he may have failed in setting the sublime,lofty, and daring flights of the Ode to St Cecilia.Indeed his composition was not judged worthy ofpubli cat ion. The Ode, after some impertinentalterations, made by Hughes, at the request of SirR ichard Steele, was set to music by Clayt on, who,wi th Steele, managed a public concert in 1 7 1 1 ;but neither was this a successful essay to connectthe poemwith the art it celebrated . A t length, in1 736, Al exander’s Feast ” was set by Han del,and performed in the Theatre Royal, Covent Garden, with the full success whi ch the combinedtalents of the poet and the musician seemed toensure. 1 Indeed, although the music was at firstless successful, the poetry received, even in the

n atu ral melan choly. In th e agon ies wh ich arose froman

u n fortu n ate attachmen t, he commi tted su ic ide, in Ju ly, 1707.

See a fu l l accou n t of the catastrophe, in Malon e's L ife ofDryden , p. 299 .

It was first performed on February 19, 1 735- 6, at operapr ices . The pu bl ic expectat ion s an d the effects of the represen tat ion (says Dr Bu rn ey,) seemto have been corres ponden t,for the n ext day we are told in the pu blic papers, [LondonDai ly Post, an d Gen eral A dvert i ser, Feb. 2 L] that theren ever was, u pon the l ike occas ion , so n umerou s and splend idan aud ien ce at any theatre in L on don , there being at leastth irteen hu n dred person s presen t an d i t i s j udged , that thereceipts of the hou se could n ot amou n t to less than L 45O. It

met wi th gen eral applau se, though attended wi th the lu conven ience of having the performers p laced at too great a dist ance fromthe au d ien ce, wh ich we h ear will be rect ified the

n ext t ime of performance . ’ —Hist. of Music, vol . iv. , p. 391 .


author’s time, all the applause which its unrivalledexcellence demanded. I am glad to hear fromall hands,

” says Dryden, in a letter to Tonson,that my Ode is esteemed the best of all my poetry,by all the town. I thought so myselfwhen I writit ; but, be ing old, I mi strusted my own judgment .” MrMalone has preserved a tradi tion, thatt he father of Lord Chief Justice Marlay, then aTemplar, and frequenter of Will ’s Coffee- house,t ook an opportun ity to pay his court to Dryden, onthe publicat ion of Al exander’s Feast and,happening to sit next him, congratulated him onhaving produced the fines t and noblest Ode thathad ever been writt en in any language. You arer ight, young gentleman, (replied Dryden,) a noblerOde never was produced, nor ever will.

” Thissingularly st rong expression cannot be placed tothe score of vanity. It was an inward consciousn ess of merit, which burst forth, probably almostinvoluntarily, and Ifear must be admitt ed as pro

phet ic.

l

The preparation of a new edition of the Virgil,which appeared in 1698, occupied nine days only,after which Dryden began seriously to consider to

1 Every one places th is Ode among the first of i ts class,and man y allow i t n o r ival . In what does th i s su periori tycon sist Not in the su bl imi ty of i ts con ception s, or the r ichn ess of i ts langu age, the passage abou t Ju pi ter and Olympiaalon e excepted . Some l in es are l i ttle better than a commondr in kin g song, and few of themhave singly an y greatmeri t.I tmu st be the rapid tran si tion s, themastery of langu age, th espringin ess of thewholeman n er,wh ich hu rries u s away, an dleaves so l i ttle roomfor min u te cr i tic i sm, that n o on e has

ever qu al ified h is admiration of th is noble poem.

”—HA LLAM. ]


Robert Howard, and consults his taste also in therevisal of the version. Bu t Dryden never alteredthe Conqu est of China,

” being first interrupted bythe necessity of revising Virgil, and afterwards,perhaps, by a sort of quarrel which took placebetween himand the players, ofwhomhe speaksmost resen tq y in his Epistle to Granville,

”

u pon his tragedy of Heroic Love,” acted in the

beginning ofThe success of Virgil encouraged Dryden about

t his time to turn his eyes upon Homer ; and the

g eneral voice of the literary world called upon himt o do the venerable Grecian the same servicewhichthe Roman had received from him. It was evenbelieved that he had fixed upon the mode of translation, and that he was, as he elsewhere expressesi t, to

“fight unarmed, without his rhyme.”3 A

See Dryden ’s Works, vol. xvi i i . , pp . 123, 126.

3 Thine be the laurel , then ; thy blooming ageCan best, i f any can, support the stage ;W hich so decl ines, that shortlywemay seePlayers and plays redu ced to second infan cy.Sharp to the world, bu t thoughtless Of renown,They plot n ot on the stage, bu t on the town ;A nd in despair their empty p i t to fi ll,S e t u p some foreignmonster in a bi llThus theyj og on , sti ll tricking, n ever thriving,A ndmu rth’ring plays,which theymi scall—reviving.

O ur sense is n on sense, through theirpipes convey’d ;

S carce can a poet knowthe play hemade,’Tis so disgu i sed in death ; n or thinks ’tis heT hat sufi ers in themang led tragedy ;Thu s Itys firstwas kill'd, and after dress’dForhis own sire, the chief inv i ted gu est.”

Th is gave great offen ce to th e players ; on e of whom(Powel l) made a petu lan t retort, which the read er wi ll fi ndin a n ote u pon the Epi stle i tself. Dryden ’s Works, vol. xi . ,65 .

3 Moubrenli, in a note on that passage in the dedication to


dubious anecdote bears, that he even regretted hehad not rendered Virgil into blank verse, andshows at the same time, if genuine, howfar he mustnowhave disapproved of his own attempt to turninto rhyme the Paradise Lost. The story is toldby the elder Richardson, in his remarks on thetardy progress ofMilton’s greatwork in the publicOpinion.

l When Dryden did translate the FirstBook of Homer, which he published with theFables, he rendered it into rhyme ; nor have wesufiicient ground to believe that he ever seriouslyintended, in so large a work, to renoun ce the advantages which he possessed, by his unequ alled command of versificat ion . That in other respects thetaskwas consonant to his temper, as well as talents,he has himself informed us . My thoughts,

” hesays, in a letter to Halifax, in 1699, are at present fixed ou Homer ; and by my translation of thefirst Iliad, I find hima poet more according to mygenius than Virgil, and consequently hope I may dohim more justice, in his fiery way of writing

the JEn eid Hewho can writewell in rhyme, maywrite betterin blank verse,” says, We shal l kn ow that, when we seehowmu ch better Dryden ’s Homer wi ll be than h is Virgi l ."

Mu ch the same character h e gave of i t (i. e. Parad i seL ost) to a n orth- coun try gen tleman , to whom I men t ion edthe book, he being a great read er, bu t n ot in a r igh t train ,coming to town seldom, an d keeping l i ttle compan y. Drydenamaz ed himwith speaking so loft ily of i t. Why, Mr Dryd en ,

’ says he, (SirW. L . told me the th ing h imself, )’t is n ot

i n rhyme . ’ No [replied Dryden ] ; n or wou ld Ihave donemyVirgil in rhyme, if Iwas to begin it again .

’ —Th is con versationi s supposed byMrMalon e to have been heldwi th SirWilfredLawson , of I sell, in Cumberland.

352 L IFE o r JOHN DRYDEN.

which, as it is liable to more faults, so it is capableof more beauties, than the exactness and sobriety ofVirgil. Since it is for my country’s honour, as wellas for my own, that I am willing to undertake thistask, I despair not of being encouraged in it byyou r favour.” But thi s task Dryden was not

destined to accomplish, although he had it so muchat heart as to speak of resuming it only threemonths before his death.

1

In the meanwhile, our author had engaged himself in the composition of those imitations of Boccacio and Chaucer, which have been since calledthe Fables and in spring, 1 699, he was in su chforwardness, as to put into Tonson

’

s hands seventhousand five hundred verses, more or less, as thecontract bears, being a partial delivery to ac countof ten thousand verses, which by that deed heagreed to fu rnish, for the sum of two hundred andfifty guineas, to be made up three hundred poundsu pon publication of the second edition . Thi s secondpayment Dryden lived not to receive. W ith thecontents Of this miscellaneou s volume we are tosuppose himengaged, from the revisal of the Virgil, in 1697, to the publi cation of the Fables, inMarch, 1699—1 700. This was the last period of

l You takemore care ofmy heal th than i t d eserves ; thatof an old man i s always craz y, and, at presen t,min e isworsethan u su al , by a S t A n thon y’s fire in on e ofmy legs ; thoughthe swell ing i smu ch abated, yet the pain i s n ot wholly gon e,an d 1 amtoo weak to stan d u pon i t. If I recover, i t is poss ible 1 may attempt Homer’s Il iad . A specimen of i t (thefirst book ) i s n ow in the press.”—Dryden to Mrs Thomas.Works, vol. xvi i i. , p. 173.J


that of Charles I I ., but it was less scandalous,and

,as Dryden himself expresses it,The sin was of ou r n ative growth, ’t i s tru e ;

The scand al of the sin was wholly n ew.

M i sses there were, bu t modestly conceal’

d,

Wh i tehal l the n aked Goddess first reveal ‘d ;Who stan d ing, as at Cypru s, in her shrin e,The strumpet was adored wi th r i tes d ivin e."

This torrent of licentiousness had begun in somedegree to abate even upon the accession ofJames I I.,whose manners did not encourage the same generallicense as those of Charles. But after the Revolu tion, when an afi

'

ectat ion of profi igacy was nolonger deemed a necessary attr ibute of loyalty, andwhen it began to be thought possible that a manmight have some respect for religion without beinga republican, or even a fanatic, the license of thestage was generally esteemed a nuisance. It thenhappened, as is not uncommon, that those, mostbustling and active to correct public abuses, weremen whose intentions may, without do ing theminjury, be estimated more highly than their talents.Thus, S ir Richard Blackmor e, a grave physician,residing and practising on the sober side of TempleBar, was the first who professed to reform thespreading pest of poetical li centiousness, and to

correct such men as Dryden, Congreve, and Wycherly. This worthy person, compassionating thestate to which poetry was reduced by his contemporaries, who used their wit “in opposition to

religion, and to the destruction of virtue and good

,manners in the world,

” resolved to rescu e the

,Muses fromthi s unworthy thraldom, to restore


themto their sweet and chaste mans ions, and toe ngage them in an employment su ited to theird ignity.

” W ith this laudable view, he wrotePrince A rthur, an Epic Poem,

” published in

1 695. The preface contained a furious, thoughjust , diatribe against the license of modern comedy,with some personal reflections aimed at Drydend irectly.

1 This the poet felt more unkindly, as

1 Some of th es e poets, to excu se their gu i l t, al l ege fort hemselves, that the degeneracy of the age makes their lewdway of wri t ing n ecessary : they preten d the au d i tors wi l l no tbe pleased , u n less they are thu s en tertain ed from the stage ;an d to please, they say, i s the ch ief bu si n ess of the poet. Bu t

t h i s i s by no mean s a j u st apology : i t i s n ot tru e, as was saidbefore, that the poet's chief bu sin ess i s to please. His ch iefbu sin ess is to in stru ct, to make mankind wi ser and better ;an d in order to th is, h is care shou ld be to please and en tertainthe au d ience wi th all the wit an d art he i smaster of. A ri st otle and Horace, an d all their cri tics an d commen tators, all

men ofwit and sen se agree, that th i s i s the en d of poetry.B u t they say, i t i s their profess ion towri te for the stage ; an d.

t hat poetsmu st starve, if theywill n ot in th isway humou r theau d ien ce the theatrewi l l be as u n frequ en ted as the chu rches,an d the poet an d the parson equ ally n eglec ted . L et the poett hen aban don h is profess ion , and take u p some hon est lawfu lc al l ing,where, jo in ing in du stry to h is great wit, hemay soonget above the complain ts of poverty, so common among these

” ingen iou smen , an d l ie u n der n o n ecessity of prosti tu ting h i sW it to any su ch vi le pu rposes as are here cen su red. Th is will.be a cou rse of l ifemore profitable an d honou rable to h imself,and more u sefu l to others . A nd there are among these writ ers some, who think theymight have risen to the highest dign itiesi n other p rofessions, had they emp loyed their wit in those ways.

It i s a migh ty d i shon our an d reproach to any man that isc apable of be ing u sefu l to theworld in any liberal and virtuous

profession , to lavish ou t h is lifl: and wit in p rop agating vice and

corrup tion of manners, an d in batter ing from the stage thes trongest en tren chmen ts an d best works of religi on and vi:


S ir Richard had , without acknowledgment, availedhimself of the hints he had thrown ou t in theE ssay upon Satire,

”for the management of an

epic poem on the subject of King A rthur . Hebore, however, the attack without resenting it,until he was again assailed by Sir Richard in hisSatire upon Wit,

” written expressly to corr ectthe di ssolu te and immoral performances of thewriters of his time . With a ponderous attempt athumour, the good knight proposes, that a ban/afarwit should be established, and that all which hadhitherto passed as current, should be called in,purified in the mint, recoined, and issued forthanew, freed from alloy.

This satire was published in 1 700, as the titlepage bears ; but Mr Luttrell marks hi s copy 23dNovember, It contains more than on e

attack u pon our author. Thus, we are told, (Witbeing previously described as a malady,)

Van in e, that look’

d on all the danger past,Bec au se he ’scaped so long, i s seiz ed at last ;By p by hun ger, and by Dryden bi t,He grin s and sn arls, an d, in his dogged fi t,Froths at themou th, a certain sign ofwit .”

Elsewhere the poet complains, that the universities,

debau ch’

d by D ryden and h is crew,

Turn bawds to v ice, an d wicked aims pu rsu e.”

tu es. Whoever makes this his choice, when the other was in hispower,may he go ofi

‘ the stage un p itied, comp lain ing of neg lect and

p overty, thej ust pwn ishmmts of his irrelagwn andfolly."

1 Mr Malone conceives, that the Fableswere published before theSatire u pon Wi t bu t he had n ot this evidence of the con trarybefore him. It is therefore clear, that Dryden endured a secondattack fromBlackmore, beforemaking any reply.


Bu t I wil l deal th emore c ivi lly wi th h i s two poems, bec au se n oth ing il l is to be spoken of the dead and, therefore,peace be to theman es of h is A rth u rs . ’ I wi l l on ly say, thati t was n ot for th is noble kn ight that Idrew th e plan of an

epic poemon King A rthu r, in my preface to the tran slation of

Juven al . The gu ard ian angels of kingdoms were mach in estoo pon derou s for himto man age ; an d therefore he rej ectedt hem, as D ares d id the wh irl- bats of Eryx ,when they weret hrown before himby En tellu s : yet from that preface

,he

p lainl y took his h in t ; for he began immed iately u pon the

s tory, thou gh he had the basen ess n ot to acknowledge hisben efactor, bu t, in stead of i t, to tradu ce me in a label .”

Blackmore,who had perhaps thought the praisecontained in his two last couplets ought to haveallayed Dryden’s resentment, finding that theyfailed in producing this effect, very unhandsomelyomitted them in his next edition, and received, as

will presently be noticed, another flagellat ion in thelast verses Dryden ever wrote.But a more formidable champion than Blackmore had arisen, to scourge the profligacy of the

t heatre . This was no other than the celebratedJeremy Collier, a nonju ring clergyman, who published, in 1698, A Short View of the Immoralityand Profaneness of the Stage.” His qualities as areformer are described by Dr Johnson in languagen ever to be amended.

Hewas formed for a con trovert ist wi th su ffic i en t learning ; wi th d ict ion vehemen t an d po in ted, though often vu lgaran d in correct ; wi th u n conqu erable pert in ac i ty ; wi th wit inthe h ighest degree keen an d sarcast ic ; and wi th all thosep owers exalted an d invigorated by the ju st con fiden ce in hisc au se. Thu s qual ified, an d thu s inci ted , he walked ou t to

batt le, an d assai led at on ce most of the li ving wr i ters, fromD ryden to Du rfey. H i s on set was v iolen t : those passages,which,whi le they stood single had passed wi th li ttle n otice,

LI FE or JOHN DRYDEN. 359 1

when theywere accumu lated and exposed together, exc i tedhorror ; the wi se an d the piou s caught the alarm, and the

n ation won dered why i t had so long su ffered irrel igion an d

licen t iou sness to be open ly taugh t at the publ ic charge.”

Notwithstanding the justice of this description,there is a strange mixtur e of sense and nonsensein Collier’s celebrated treatise. Not contented withresting his obj ections to dramatic immorality uponthe substantial grounds of virtue and religion ,Jeremy labours to confute the poets of the 1 7thcentury, by drawing them into comparison withPlautus and A ristophanes, which is certainly judging of one crooked line by another. Neither doeshe omit, like his predecessor Pryn ne, to marshalagainst the Brit ish stag e those fulminations directed by the fathers of the church against the Pagantheatres ; although Collier could not but know, thati t was the performance of the heathen ritual, andnot merely the scenic action of the drama, whichrendered it sinful for the early Christians to att endthe theatre. The bookwas, however, of great service to dramatic poetry, which, from that time, wasless degraded by license and indelicacy.

Dryden, it may be believed, had , as his comedieswell deserved, a liberal share of the general censure ; but, however he might have felt the smartof Collier’s severity, he had the magnanimity toacknowledge its ju stice. In the preface to theFables, he makes the amend e honorable .

I shal l say the less of Mr Coll ier, becau se in many th ingshe has taxed me ju stly ; and I have pleaded gu ilty to all

thoughts and express ion s ofmin e,wh ich can be truly argu ed"

of obscen ity, profan en es s, or immoral i ty, and retract them.

360‘

LIFE or JOHN DRYDEN.

If he bemy en emy, l et himtr iumph ; if he be my friend, asvI have given himn o person al occasion to be otherwise, hewil lbe glad of my repen tan ce . It becomes me n ot to drawmypen in the defen ce of a bad cau se,when I have so often drawni t for a good on e .

”

To this manly and liberal admission, he hasindeed tacked a complaint, that Collier had sometimes, by a strained interpretation, made the evilsense of which

\he complained ; that he had too

much horse- play in his raillery and that, ifthe zeal for God’s house had not eaten himup,it had at least devoured some part of his goodmanners and civility.

” Collier seems to have beensomewhat pacified by thi s qualified acknowledgment ; and, during the rest of the controversy,turned his arms chiefly against Congreve, whoresisted, and spared, comparatively at least, thesullen submission of Dryden.

While these controversies were raging, Dryden’s time was occupied with the translations orimitat ions of Chaucer and Boccacio. A mong these,the “Character of the Good Parson” i s introduced,probably to confute Milbourne, Blackmore, andCollier,who had severally charged our author withthe wilful and premeditated contumely thrown uponthe clergy in many passages of his satirical writings . This too seems to have inflamed the hatredof Swift, who, with all his levities, was str i ctlyattached to his order, and keenly j ealou s of itshonours. l Dryden himself seems to have been

In his apology for The Tale of a Tub, he poin ts ou t tothe resen tmen t of th e clergy, those h eavy ill iterate scribblers, prosti tu te in their repu tat ion s, v iciou s in their li ves,


church. Indeed, his origi nal Offences of this kindwmay be safely ascribed to the fashionable prac ticeafter the Restoration, of laughing at all that wasac coun te d serious before that period. A nd whenDryden became a convert to the Catholic faith,he was, we have seen, involved in an immediateand fu rious controversy with the clergy of thechurch Of England. Thus, an unbeseeming strainof raill ery, ad opted in wantonness, became aggravated, by controversy, into real dislike and

animosity. But Dryden, in the Character of a

Good Parson,” seems determined to show, that

he could estimate the virtue of the clerical order.He undertook the task at the instigation Of Mr

Pepys, the founder of the library in MagdalenCollege, which bears his name ; 1 and has accomplished it with equal spirit and elegance n ot for

getting, however, to make his pattern Of clericalmerit of his own j acobitical principles.A nother very pleasing performance, which eu

t ered the Miscellany called The Fables ,” is the

Epistle to John Driden Of Chesterton, the poet’

s

cousin. The letters to Mrs Stewart show the

friendly intimacy in which the relations had lived,

colou rs i s presen tly you r pri z e : an d you wou ld , by you r goodwil l, be as mortifying a vexation to the whole tr ibe, as anu n begett ing year, a con catenation of br iefs, or a vorac iou sv i s i tor ; so that I amof opin ion , you had mu ch bett er havewri t ten in you r t i tlepage,

Man et altamen te repostumJud i ciumCleri , spre tx qu emj un a Mm .

"

The same reproach i s u rged by Settl e. See D ryden’sWorks,

Vol. i ii . , p. 377-8 .

Dryd en ’s Works, vol . xvi i i ., p . 155.


since the“ Opposition of the Whigs to King William’s government in some degree united thatparty in conduct, though not in mot ive, with thefavourers Of King James . Yet our author’s strainof politics, as at first expressed in the epistle, wastoo severe for his cousin’s digestion . Some refle ctions upon the Du t ch allies, and their behaviourin the war, were omitted, as tending to reflectu pon KingWilliam ; and thewhole piece, to avoid.

the least chance of giving ofl'

en ce, was subj ectedto the revision of Montague, with a deprecat ion of

his displeasu re, an entreaty of his patronage, an d

the humiliating offer, that, although repeatedrection had already purged the spirit ou t of the

poem, nothing should stan d in it relating to publicail-airs, wi thout Mr Montague’s permission. Whatanswer “full - blown Bufo ” returned to Dryden’spetition, does not appear ; but the author

’s oppositiou principles were so deeply woven in with thepiece, that they could n ot be obliterated withouttearing it to pieces. Hi s model of an Englishmember of parliament votes in Opposition, as hisGood Parson is a nonjuror, and the Fox in thefable of Old Chaucer is translated into a puritan }

There was, to be su re, in th e provoking scru ples of thatrigid sect, someth ing pecu l iarly tempting to a satiri st . Howis i t po ssible to forg ive Baxter, for the afl

'

ectat ion wi th wh ichhe record s the en ormi ti es of h is chi ldhood Though mycon scien ce,” says he, wou ld trou ble me when I s in n ed, yetd ivers sin s I was add icted to, an d oft commi tted again stmyconsc i en ce, wh ich , for the warn ing of others, I wi l l herecon fess tomy shame. I was mu ch add icted to th e excessiveg luttonous ea ting of app les and p ears, wh ich I th ink laid the“

foun dation of the imbecil i ty and flatu len cy of my stomaclw

364“


‘

The ep istle was highly ac ceptable to Mr Driden

of Chesterton,who acknowledged the immortalityconferred on him, by a noble present,

” whichfamily tradition states to have amounted to L .5OO.

l

Neither did Dryden neglect so fair an Opportunityto avenge himself on his personal, as well as hispolitical ad versaries . Milbourne and Blackmorereceive in the ep istle severe chastisement for theirassaults upon his poetry and private character

What h elp fromart’s endeavou rs can we haveG u ibbons bu t gu esses, n or i s su re t o save ;B u t Mau ru s sweepswhol e pari shes, an d peoples every grave ;A n d nomoremercy toman k in d wi l l u se,Than when he robb’d an dmu rder’d Maro’smu se.Wou ldst thou be soon despatch’d , an d peri sh whole,Tru st Mau ru s wi th thy l ife, and M i lbou rn e wi th thy sou l .

Referring to another place, what occurs uponthe style and execution of the Fables, I have onlyto add, that they were published early in spring1 700, in a large folio, and with the Ode to SaintCecilia.” The Epistle to Driden of Chesterton,

wh ich cau sed the bod i ly calami t ies of my l ife. To th is en d,an d to con cur wi th n au gh ty boys that glor ied in evi l , I haveoft gon e in to othermen ’s orchards, an d stolen the fru i t,whenI

,had en ou gh at home.” There are six other retractation s ofs imi lar en ormi ties, when h e con clu des “These were mysin s in my ch i ldhood

,as to wh ich, con sc ience trou bled me

for a great wh ile before they were overcome." Baxter wasa piou s and worth yman bu t can any on e read th i s con fess ion wi thou t th ink ing of Tartufl

'

e, who subj ected h imself topen an ce for k ill ing a flea, wi th t oomuch anger

1 See Dryden ’s Works, vol. xv i i i . , p. 180. Mr Malon e

th inks trad i tion has con fou n ded a presen t made to the poe th imself, probably of L NG, wi th a legacy bequ eathed to h i sson Charles, wh ich last did amou n t to L .500, bu t wh ichCharles l ived not to receive.


t ons, and spri ght ly gallantry, demanded on su chThe incense , it is said, was acknow

ledged by a present of L6 00; a donation worthy ofthe splendid house of Ormond. The sale of the

Fables” was su rprisingly slow: even the deatho f the au tho r, which has often sp ed away a linger

‘

ing impress ion, does not seem to have increased thed emand ; and the second edition was n ot print edt ill 1 7 13, when Dryden and all his immediated escendan ts being no more, the sum stipulatedu pon that event was paid by Tonson to Lady Sylv ius, daughter of on e of Lady Elizabeth Dryden’sb rothers, for the benefit of his Widow, then in a st ateo f lunacy.

The end of Dryden’s labours was now fast

approaching ; and as his career began upon thestage, it was in some degree doomed to terminatet here. It is true, he never recalled his resolutionto write no more plays ; but Vanburgh havingabout thi s time revised and altered for the Drurylane the atre, Fletche r

’s lively comedy of The

Pilgrim,

” it was agreed that Dryden , or, as one

a ccount says, his son Charles, l should have theprofits of a third night, on condition of adding to

A n air of gran deu r shin es throu gh every part,A nd i n her beau teou s formis placed the n oblest heart :In vain mankin d adore, u nless she wereB yHeaven made less Virtu ou s, or less fair.

1 Gi ldon , in h is Compari son between the S tages.” Nayt hen ,” says the whole party at D ru ry—lan e, we’ll even pu tThe Pi lgr im’

u pon h im.

" Ay,’fai th, so We wi l l,” says

D ryden and if you ’ll let my son have the Profits of theth ird n igh t, ,I

’

ll give you a Secul ar Masqu e.” Don e," saysthe Hou se ; 6 and so the bargain was st ruck.”

L IFE or JOHN DRYDEN.

'

367

the piece a Secular Masque, adapted to the sup

posed termination of the seventeenth cent ury ; 1~

a Dialogue in the Madhouse between two Distracte d Lovers ; and 3. Prologue and Epilogue. The

Secular Masque contains a beau tiful and spiritedd elineation of the reigns of James I. Charles I . andCharles I I ., in which the influence of Diana,Mars,and Venus, are su pposed to have respectively pred ominated. Our au thor did not venture to assigna patron

.

to the last years of the century, thoughthe expulsion of Saturn might have given a hintfor it. The music of the Masque is said to havebeen good ; at le ast it is admired by the eccentricauthor of John Bun cle .

’ The Prologue and Epilogu e to The Pilgrim, were writt en withintwenty days of Dryden’s death ; 3 and their spiritequals that of any of his satirical compositions .They afl

'

ord us the less pleasing conv iction, thate ven the last fortnight ofDryden’s lifewas occupiedin repellin g or retorting the venomed attacks of hisliterary foes . In the Prologue, he gives Blackmore a drubbing whi ch would have annihilated

i . e. Upon :t he 25th March, 1 700; i t being supposed, (asbymany in our own t irn e) that the cen turywas con clu ded sosoon as the hu n dred th year commen ced —as if .a play wasended at the beginn ing qf tlzefif th act .

9 I t was again set by Dr Boyce, an d in 1749 performed inthe Dru ry- lan e theatre,wi th great success.

By a letter ‘t o Mrs S tu art, dated the 1 1 th A pr il, 1700, i tappears they were then on ly in h is con templation , an d th ep oet d ied u pon the first of the succeedingmont h. Dryden '

s

Works, p. 182.

368 L I FE or JOHN DRYDEN.

any author of ordinary modesty ; but the knight l

was as remarkable for his powers of endurance, assome modern pugilists are said to be for the qual itytechnically called bottom. A fter having been brayed in a mortar,

” as Solomon expresses it, by everywit of his time, Sir R ichard not only survived to

l Quack Mauru s, thou gh he n ever took degreesIn either of our u n iversxt ies,

Yet to be shown by some kindwit he looks,B ecau se he played the fool, andwrit three books.B u t i f hewou ld beworth a poet’s pen ,Hemust bemore a fool, and wri te again ;For all the former fustian stuff he wroteW as dead-born doggrel, or is qu ite forgo tHisman of Uz , stn p t of his Hebrewrobe,Is j ust the proverb, and A s poor as Job.

’

One wou ld have thought he cou ld no longer j og ;B u t Arthu rwas a level, Job ’s a hog.

There though he crept, yet still he kept in sight ;B ut here he founders in, and sinks downright.Had he prepared u s, and been du ll by ru le,T obi t had first been turned to ridiculeB u t our bold Briton ,withou t fear or awe,O '

erleaps at once the whole A pocrypha ;Invades the Psalmswith rhymes, and leaves no roomFor any Vandal Hopkins yet to come.Bu twhen , i f, after all, this god ly gearIs not so senseless as i twou ld appear,Ourmou n tebank has laid a deeper trainHis can t, l ike Merry A ndrew’s n oble ve i n ,Cat-calls the sects to drawthemin again .

"

A t leisure hours in epic song he deals,Writes to the rumbling of his coach’swheelsPrescribes in haste, and seldom10 113 by ru le,B u t rides triumphan t between stool and stool.Well, let himgo,—'

t ls yet too early dayTo get himself a place in farce or play ;We knownot bywhat namewe shou ld arraign him,For no one category can contain him.

A pedan t,—can ting preacher,—and a quack,A re load enough to break an ass’s back.A t last, grown wan ton , be presumed towrite,Tradu ced two kings, their kindness to requi teOnemade the doctor. and one dubb’d the knight."

370? LIFE or JOHN DRYDEN

the Epilogue, Dryden attacks Collier, but wi thmore courteous weapons : it is rather a palliationthan a defence of dramatic immorality, and containsnothing personally offensive to Collier.- Thus sodearly was Dryden’s preeminent reputation purchased, that even his last hours were embitt eredwith controversy ; and nature, over-watched andworn out, was, like a besieged garrison, forced toobey the call to arms, and defend reputation evenwith the very last exertion of the vital spirit.The approach of death was not, however, so

gradual as might have been expected from thepoet’s chronic diseases . He had long sufi

'

ered

both by the gout and gravel, and more lately theerysipelas seized one of his legs . To a shatteredframe and a corpulent habit, the most trifl ing accident is oft en fatal . A slight inflammation in oneof his toes, became, from neglect, a gangrene . Mr

Hobbes, aneminent surgeon, to prevent mort ifi cation, proposed to amputate the limb but Dryden,who had no reason to be in love with life, refusedthe chance of prolonging it by a doubtful andpainful operation .

1 A fter a short interval, thecatastrophe expected by Mr Hobbes took place,

cl

T his, sir, ’s your fate, cursed critics you oppose,

Themost tyrann ical and cru el foes ;Dryden , their hu n tsman dead , n omore hewounds,Bu t n owyoumust eng ag e hi s pack of houn ds.”

A ccord ing to Ward, his expression s were, “that hewasan oldman , an d had n ot long to l ive by cou rse of n ature, an dt herefore did n ot care to part wi th on e l imb, at su ch an age,

t o preserve an uncomfortable life on the rest."—London Spy,part xvi i i.

LI FE or JOHN DRYDEN.

’

371

and Dryden, not long su rviving the consequences,left life on Wednesday morning, l st May, 1 700,

at three o’clock. He seems to have been sensibletill nearly his last moments, and died in the RomanCatholi c faith, with submission and entire resignation to the divine wi ll ; “taking of his friends,

”

says Mrs Creed, one of the sorrowful number, sotender and oblig ing a farewell, as none but hehimself could have expressed.

”

The death of a man like Dryden, especially innarrow and neglected circumstances, is usually an

alarum- bell to the public. Unavailing and mutualreproaches, for unthankful and pitiless negligence,waste themselves in newspaper parag raphs, elegies,and funeral processions the debt to geniu s is thendeemed di scharged, and a new account of neglectand commemoration is opened between the publicand the next who rises to supply his room. Itwas thu s with Dryden : H is family were preparingto bury him with the decency becoming theirlimited circumstances, when Charles Montague,Lord Jefl

'

eries, and other men of quality, made asubscription for a public funeral . The body of thepoet was then removed to the Physicians’ Hall,where it was embalmed, and lay in state till the13th day of May, twelve days after the decease .On that day, the celebrated Dr Garth pronounceda Latin oration over the remains of his departedfriend ; which were then, with considerable state,preceded by a band of music, and attended by anumerous procession of carriages, tran sported to

372 : LIFE or JOHN DRYDEN.

W estminster A bbey, and deposited between thegraves of Chaucer and Cowley.

The malice of Dryden’s contemporaries, whi chhe had experienced through life, attempted to tu rninto bu rlesqu e these funeral honours . Farquhar,the comic dramatist, wrote a letter containing aludicrous accoun t of the funeral ; 1 in which, as Mr

Malone most justly remarks, he only sought toamuse his fair correspondent by an assemblage ofludicrous and antithetical expressions and ideas,which, when accurately examined, express littlemore than the hustle and confusion which attendsevery funeral procession of uncommon splendour.Upon thi s ground-work,Mrs Thomas (the Corinnaof Pope and Cromwell) raised, at the distance ofthirty years, the marvellous structure of fable,which has been copied by all Dryden’s biographers,t ill the industry of Mr Malone has sent it, withother figmen ts of the same lady, to the grave of

1 I come n owfromMr Dryden ’s fu n eral, where we had

an Ode in Horace sung, in st ead of David ’s Psalms ; when ceyou may fi nd, that we don

’t th ink a poet worth Chr i sti an.

bu r i al . The pomp of the ceremon y was a k in d of rhapsod y,an d fi tter

,I th ink, for Hu d ibras, than h im; becau se the

cavalcadewasmostly bu rlesqu e : bu t hewas an extraord in aryman , an d bu ried after an extraord in ary fash ion ; for I do be

l ieve there was n ever su ch another bur i al seen . The orat ion ,i n deed,was great an d ingen iou s, worthy th e su bj ec t, an d l iket he au thor ; whose prescription s can restore th e l iving, and

h i s pon embalmth e d ead . A nd so mu ch for Mr Drydenwhose bu r ial was the same as h i s l ife,—variety, an d n ot of a

p iece - the qu al i ty an d mob, farce and hero ics the su bl imeand rid iculemixed in a p iece —great Cleopatra. in a hackn eycoach.

”


Thomas herself quotes this last respectable autherity. It must be a well - conducted and uncommonpublic ceremony, where the philosopher can findnothing to condemn, nor the satirist to ridicule ;

yet, to our imagination, what can be more striking,than the procession of talent and rank, whichescorted the remains of DRYDEN to the tomb ofCHAUOER !

The private character of the individual, hispersonal appearance, and rank in society, are thecircumstances which generally interest the publicmost immediately upon his decease.We are enabled, from the var ious paintings and

engravings of Dryden, as well as from the lessflattering delineations of the satirists of his time,to form a tolerable idea of hi s face and person . In

youth, he appears to have been handsome,‘ and of

a pleasing countenance ; when his age was mor eadvanced, he was corpulent and florid, whi chprocured himthe nickname attached to him byRochester. 2 In his latter days, distress and disappointment probably chilled the fire of his eye, andthe advance of age destroyed the animation of hiscountenance.3 Still, however, his portraits bespeak

The playhouse drab, that beats the beggar's bush,

By every body kiss’d. good troth,- bu t su ch isNowher good fate, t o ridewithmistress Du chess.Was e'er immortal poet thus bufi ‘

oon'd i

In a long line of coaches thus lampoon 'd l

A n te, p . 74.

s Poet Squ ab.” A nte, p. 168 -9.

From Epigrams on the Pain t ings of the most emin en t

LI FE OF JOHN DRYDEN.

'

375

t the look and featu res Of genius especially that Inwhich he i s drawn with his waving grey hairs.In disposition and moral character, Dryden is

represented as most amiable, by all who had accessto know him; and his works, as well as letters,bear evidence to the ju stice of their panegyri c.Congreve’s character of the poet was drawn doubtless favourably, yet it contains points which demonstrate its fidelity.

Whoever shal l cen su reme, I dar e be con fiden t, you ,mylord, will excu seme for an y th ing that I shal l say wi th du eregard to a gen tleman , forwhose person I had as ju st an afl

'

ec

t ion as I have an admiration of h i s wri t ings. A nd ind eedMr D ryden had person al qu al i ties to chal lenge both love an d.esteemfromal lwho were tru ly acqu ain ted wi th him.

He was of a n atu re exceed ingly human e an d compassionate ; eas i ly forg iving inj u ries, and capable of a prompt andsin cere recon c i l iation wi th themwho had offended him.

S uch a temperamen t is the on ly soli d fou n d ation of all

moral virtu es and social endowmen ts. H is fri end sh ip, wherehe professed i t,wen tmu ch beyond h is profession s an d I havebeen told of strong an d gen erou s in stan ces of i t by the persons

Masters," by J. B . (John Elsum), Esq., evo, 1700, Mr Malonethe following l in es

The Effig ies of Mr DavnEN, by Closterman,Ep ig . clxiv.

A sleepy eye he shows, and no sweet feature,Yet was i n deed a favou ri te o f natu reEndow’d and graced W i th an exaltedmind,W i th store ofwi t, and that of every kind.Juvenal's tartness, Horaoe

’s sweet air,

W ith Virg i l’s force . in himconcen ter’d were

Bu t thou gh the pain ter’s art can n ever showi t,

That his exemplarwas so great a poet,Yet are the lin es and tin ts so subtlywrought,You may perce ive hewas aman of thou ght.Closterman ,

’t is confess

'd , has drawn himwell,

B u t short of A bsaloman d


themselveswho rece ived them, though his hered i tary in comewas l i ttlemore than a bare compe tency.

A s h is read ing had been very exten sive, sowas he veryhappy in a memory, ten ac iou s of every th ing that he hadread . Hewas n ot more pomessed of knowledge, than hewascommu n icative of i t . B u t then his commu n ication of i twasby n omean s pedan tic, or imposed u pon the conversation ; bu tjust su ch, and wen t so far, as, by the n atu ral tu rn s of the d iscou rse in wh ich he was engaged, i t was n ecessar i ly promotedor requ ired. Hewas extreme ready an d gen tle in his correc

t ion of th e errors of anywri ter, who thou gh t fi t to con su lth im; and fu l l as ready an d patien t to admi t of the reprehens ion of others, in respect of h is own oversigh t ormis takes .

H ewas of very easy, I may say, of very pleasing access bu t

someth ing slow, an d, as i t were, d ifii den t in h i s advan ces too thers. He had someth ing in h is n atu re, that abhorred in trasion in to any societywhatsoever. I n deed , i t i s to be regretted,t hat h e was rather blameable in the other extreme ; for, bythatmean s, he was person ally l ess known , an d, con sequ en tly,h is character migh t become liable both to misapprehen sion sandmi srepresen tation s.

To the best ofmy knowl edge an d observation , hewas,o f al l themen that ever I kn ew, on e of th emostmod est, an dthemost easi ly to be d iscou n ten an ced in his approaches e i thert o h is su per iors or h is equ als.”

This portrait is from the pen of friendship ; yet,if we consider all the circumstances Of Dryden’slife, we cannot deem it much exaggerated. For

about forty years, his character, personal and literary, was the Object Of assault by every subalternscribbler, titled or untitled, laureated or pilloried.

My morals,” he himself has said, have been

suffi ciently aspersed ; that only sort of reputat ion,which ought to be dear to every honest man, and ist o me.” In such an assault, n o weapon wouldremain unhandled, no charge, true or false, unpreferred, providing it was but plau sible. Such


mingled. But we have the testimony of one whoknew himwell, that, however loose his comedies,the temper of the au thor was modest ; his indelicacy was like the forced impudence of a bashfulman ; and Rochester has accordingly u pbraidedhim, that his licentiousness was neither natu ral norseductive . Dryden had unfortunately conformedenough to the taste of his age, to attempt thatnice mode of wit,

” as it is termed by the saidnoble author, whose name has become inseparablyconnected with it but it sate awkwardly upon hisnatural modesty, and in general sounds impertinent ,as well as disgusting. The clumsy phraseology ofBurnet, in passing censure on the immorality ofthe stage, after the Restoration, terms Dryden,the greatest master of dramatic poesy, a monsterof immodesty and of impurity of all sorts .” Theexpression called forth the animated defence of

Granville, Lord Lansdowne, our author’s noblefriend.

A ll who kn ewhim, said L an sdown e, can testify th i swas n ot h is character. He was somu ch a stranger to immodesty, thatmodesty in too great a degree was h is fai l ing : be

hu rt h i s fortun e by i t, h e complain ed of i t, an d n ever cou ldovercome i t. He was,” adds he, esteemed , cou rted, an d

admired , by al l the great men of the age in wh ich he l ived,whowou ld certain ly not have rece ived in to friendsh ip amonster, aban don ed to all sorts of vice an d impur i ty. H iswri tings

A corresponden t of the Gentleman ’s Magaz ine , in 1745, alreadyquoted, says of himas a personal acqu ain tan ce Posterity is absol u telymistaken as to that greatman : though forced to be a satirist,hewas the mildest creature breathing, and the read iest to help theyou ng and deserving. Thou gh his comedies are horribly fu ll of

dou ble en tendre, yet ’twas owing to a false complaisance. Hewas,in company, themodestestman that ever conversed."

.L IFE OF JOHN DRYDEN. 379

'will do immortal hon ou r to h is n ame and coun try, and hi s

Poems last as long. if Imay have leave to say i t, as the B ishop ’ssermon s, supposing them to be equally excellen t in theirk in d.

" l

The Bishop’s youngest son , Thomas Burnet, inreplying to Lord Lansdowne, explained his father

’slast expressions as limited to Dryden’s plays, andshowed, by doing so, that there was no foundationfor fixing this gross and dubious charge upon hisprivate moral character .Dryden’s conduct as a father, husband, and mas

ter of a family, seems to have been affectionate,faithful, and, so far as his circumstances admitted,liberal and benevolent. The whole tenor Of hiscorrespondence bears witness to his paternal feelings ; and even when he was obliged to haverecourse to Tonson ’s immediate assistance to payfor the presents he sent them, his affect ion venteditself in that manner . A s a husband, if LadyElizabeth’s peculiarities Of temper precluded the

idea of a warm attachment, he is n ot upbraidedwith neglect or infidelity by any of his thou sandassailants . A s a landlord,Mr Malone has informedus, on the authority Of Lady Dryden, that “hislittle estate at Blakesley is at this day Occupiedby one Harriots, grandson of the tenant who heldit in Dryden’s time ; and he relates, that his grandfather was u sed to take great pleasure in talkingof our poet. He was, he said, the easiest and the

kindest landlord in the world, and never raised

1 L et ter to the au thor of Reflection s Hi storical and Polit ical.” 4to, 1732.


the rent during the whole time he possessed thee state.Some circumstances, however, may seem to

d egrade so amiable a private, so sublime a poeticalcharacter. The license Of his comedy, as we haves een, had for it only the apology of universalexample, and must be lamented, though not exc u sed .

l Let us, however, remember, that if in thehey- day of the merry monarch’s reign, Drydenventured to maintain, that, the prime end of poetry

1 Our ed i tor ev in ces in behal f of Dryden 'smoral charact er, a bias excu sable en ough in him, bu t bywh ich we are n otso forc ibly swayed . Themeekn ess andmodes ty wh ich Congreve an d others largely ascribe to h im, mu st be taken , wec on ce ive,wi th some allowan ce. Ne ither of these qu al i ti es i seasi ly d i scoverable in h i s wr it ings. The best part of h isc haracter seems to have been h is grati tu de, wh ich, thoughs ervi le, was sin cere. In other respects, there i s l i ttle enought o praise. The in del icacy of his dramat ic wr i t ings i s ingen iou sly sh ifted u pon the age in wh ich he l ived ; bu t we feart h is apology leaves someth ing wan t ing. He has n ot left th i s"faul t at the doors of the theatre ; i t run s through almost allh is poems ; an d ind icates, n ot so mu ch a voluptu ou s fancy,a s a rad ical depravation an d coarsen es s of feel ing. I t is indeedt hi smoral apathy, th is ign oran ce of virtu ou s emot ions,wh ichi s the card inal defect of h is poetry. He seems n ot to p leadt hat excu se wh ich men of gen iu s ord inarily make for thee rrors of their l ives video meliora p roboque, deteriora aequor.There is rarely any th ing refin ed, any th ing ennobled in hi ss en t imen ts ; for su rely the in sipid love of Palemon i s as farfromthe on e, as the fu stian of Alman z or is from the other.In pract ical v irtu e,wewou ld n ot rate the charac ter of Popev ery h igh ; bu t wi th what d ign ified feel ings mu st he haveb een invested for themomen t, when hewrote the epistle toL ord Oxford ! Th is ton e was qu i te u nknown to Dryden ;i t was a strain of a h ighermood : an d he cou ld as easily haver eached the pathos of Elo i sa, as the moral sublime of thise p istle.”—HA I.LAM, Edin . Rev.


tion of his judgment.” It may be noticed, in palliation Of this heavy charge, that the form Of ad

dress to superiors mu st be judged of by the mannersof the times ; and that the adulation contained indedication s was then as much a matter Of course,as the words Of submissive stylewhich still precedethe subscription of an ordinary letter . It is probable, that Dryden considered his panegyrics asmerely conforming with the fashion of the day, andrendering unto Caesar the thingswhichwere Caesar’s,

-attended with no more degradation than the payment of any other tribute to the forms of politenessand usage Of the world .

Of Dryden’s general habits Of life we can form adistinct idea, from the evidence assembled by Mr

Malone. His mornings were spent in study ; hed ined with hi s family, probably about two o

’clock.

A fter dinner he went usually to W ill’s Coffeehouse, the famous rendezvous Of the wits Of thetime, where he had his established chair by thechimney in winter, and near the balcony in summer,whence he pronou nced, ea: cathedra, his Opinionupon new publications, and, in general, upon all

matters of dubiou s criticism.

1 Latterly, all who

1 See Dryden ’s Works, vol. x i . , p . 52, n ote ; v ol. xvi i i . ,p . 224. From the poem in the passage last qu oted , i t seemsthat the origin al sign of Vi

'

ill’

s Coffee- hou se had been a cow.

I twas changed, however, to a rose, in D ryden’s t ime. Th is

wi ts’ coffee- hou sewas si tu ated at the en d of Bow- stree t, on then orth side of Ru ssel - street, an d frequ en ted by allwho madeany preten ce to l i teratu re, or cri tici sm. Their compan y, i twou ld seem, was atten ded wi th more hon ou r than profi t ;forDenn i s descr ibe sWill iamErwin, or Urwin ,who kept the


had Occasion to ridi cule or attack him, representhim as presiding in this little senate. His Opinions,however, were not maintained with dogmatism ;

and we have an instance, in a pleasing anecdotetold by Dr L ockier, 1 that Dryden readily listenedto criticism, provided it was just, from whateverunexpected and undign ified quarter it happened to

hou se, as tak ing refuge in Whi tefriars, th en a place of asylum,

t o escape the clu tches of h is cred i tors. For since the law,”says the cr i tic, though t i t ju st to pu t Wi ll ou t of i ts proteot ion , Wi l l though t i t bu t pruden t to pu t himself ou t of i tspower.”

The Dean of Peterborough I was,

” says h e, abou tseven teen , when I first came to town ; an odd- looking boy,wi th short rough hair, an d that sort of awkwardn ess wh ichon e always brings ou t of the cou n try wi th on e : however, insp i te ofmy bashfu ln ess an d appearan ce, I u sed n owand thent o thru stmyself in to Wi l l ’s, t o have the p leasu re of seeing themost celebrated wi ts of that time,who u sed to resort th i ther.The second t ime that ever I was there,MrDryden was speaki ng of h i s own th ings, as be frequ en tly d id, espec ially of su chas had been lately publ ished . If any th ing ofmin e i s good,

’

says he, ’t i smyMac- Flecknoe an d I valu emyself themoreon i t, becau se i t i s th e first p iece of r id icu lewri tten in heroics. ’Lockier overbearing th is, plu cked up h i s spiri t so far, as to say,in a voice j u st lou d en ou gh to be heard, that Mac- Fleckn oewasa very fi ne poem, bu t that h e had n ot imag in ed i t to be thefi rst that ever was wrote that way. On th is Dryden tu rn edshort u pon him, as su rpr i sed at h is in terposing ; asked himhow long he had been a dealer in poetry ; and added,wi th asmile, Bu t pray, sir, what i s i t, that you did imag in e tohave been wr i t so before L ockier n amed Bo i leau ’s L u trin,an d Tasson i

’

s Seccl n'

a Rap ita wh ich he had read, and kn ewDryden had borrowed some strokes from each .

’Tis tru e,’says Dryden I had forgot them.

’ A l i ttle after, Dryden

‘

wen t ou t, an d in going spoke to Lockier again , and d esiredh imto come to himthe n ext day. L ockierwas h igh ly del igh ted wi th the in vi tation , an d waswel l acqu ain t ed wi th himaslong as he l ive —MA LONE, vol. i ., p .

_481 .

384'

L IFE or JOHN n nrn nu u

come . In general, however, it may be supposed,that few ventured to dispu te his opinion, or placethemselves in the gap between him and the obj ectof his censure . He was most falsely accused of

carrying literary jealou sy to such a length, as feloniously to encourag e Creech to vent ure on a translation of Horace, that he might lose the characterhe had gained by a version of Lucretiu s. But thi sis positively contradicted, upon the author ity of

Sou thern e.

1

We have so often stopped in our n arrat ive ofDryden’s life, to notice the respectabil ity of hisgeneral society, that little need here be said on the

subj ect. A contemporary authority, the reference

1 I have often h eard,” says Mr George Ru ssell, tha tMr

D ryden , d i ssati sfied and en viou s at th e repu tat ion Creechobtain ed by h is tran slation of L u cretiu s, purposely adv isedh imto u ndertake Horace, to wh ich he kn ew himun equ al,t hat he migh t by h is i ll performan ce lose the fame he hadacqu ired . IVIr Sou thern e. au thor of Oroonoko,

’ setme r igh tas to the con du ct of Mr Dryden in th is affair ; afiirming, th at,be ing on e even ing at Mr Dryden ’s lodg ings, in compan ywi thMr Creech, an d some other in gen iou s men

, Mr Creech toldt he compan y of h is d esign to tran slate Horace ; fromwhi chMr D ryd en ,wi thmany argumen ts, d i ssuad ed him,

as an at

t emptwhich h is gen iu swas not adapted to, an d wh ich wouldr isk h i s losing the good opin ion the world had of him, by hissu ccessful tran slat ion of Lu cretius. I thou ght i t proper to o

acqu ain t you wi th th i s c ircumstan ce, since i t rescu es the fameo f on e of ou r greates t poets fromthe impu tat ion of envy an dmalevolen ce .” (See also, u pon th is su bj ect, a n ote on page 200 »

o f Dryden ’sWorks, vol. vi i i . ) Yet Jacob Ton son told Spen ce,that Dryden would compl imen t Crown ewhen a play of his .

failed, bu t was cold to himif hemet wi th su ccess. He u sed .

sometimes to say, that Crown e had some gen iu s ; bu t then howalways add ed , that h is father an d Crown e’smoth erwere verywell acquain t —Mn .omc, vol. i ., p. 500.


than the author could use them .

1 Some fewsaysings of Dryden have been, however, preserved ;which, if not Witty, are at least jocose . He is saidto have been the original author of the repartee tothe Duke Of Buckingham,who, in bowling, offeredto lay

“his soul to a turnip,” or somet hing still

more v ile . Give me the odds,” said Dryden,

and I take the be t .” when his wife wished to bea book, that she might enjoy more of his company,Be an almanac then, my d ear,

” said the poet,that I may change you once a- year.” A nothertime, a friend expressing his astonishment that evenDurfey could write such stu fi

'

as a play they hadjust witnessed, “Ah, sir,

” replied Dryden, “youdo not know my friend Tom so well as I do ; I

’ll

answer for him, he can write worse yet.” None

of these anecdotes intimate great brill iancy of repartee ; but that Dryden, possessed of such a fundof imagi nation, and acquired learning, should bedull in conversation, is impossible . He is knownfrequen tly to have regaled his friends, by comman icatin g to them a part of his labours but his

H is con versat ion i s thu s characteri sed by a con temporary“wr i ter

O, s ir, there’s amed iumin all th ings. S i lence an d chatare d i stan t en ou gh , to have a con ven ien t d i scou rse come between them; and thu s far I agreewi th you , that the companyof the au thor of A bsaloman d A ch itophel ’

'

i smore Valu able,though n ot so talkative, than that of the modern men of

banter ; forwhat he says i s l ikewhat he wri tes, mu ch to thep u rpose, and full of mighty sen se ; and if the town were forany th ing desirable, i t were for the con versat ion of him, and'

one or twomore of the same charact er.” TheHumours and

Conversation of the Town exp osed, in two Dialogues,1693, p. 73.


poetry suffered by his recitation . He read his productions very ill ; 1 owing, pe rhaps, to the modestreserve of his temper,whi ch prevented his showingan animation in whi ch he feared his audience mightnot participate. The same circumstance may haverepressed the liveliness of his conversation. Iknow not, however, whether we are, with Mr

Malone, to impute to difiiden ce his general habit ofc onsulting his literary fr iends upon his poems,beforethey became publi c, since it might as well arise froma wish to anticipate and soften criticism.

”

Of Dryden’s learn ing, his works form the bestproof. He had read Polybius before he was ten

years of ag e ;3 and was doubtless well acquain ted

with the Greek and Roman classics . But from

When Dryden , ou r first great master of verse an d harmony, brought h is play of Amph i tryon ’

to th e stage, I heardhimg ive i t h is firs t read ing t o the actors in wh ich, though i ti s tru e h e del ivered the p lain sen se of every per iod, yet th ewhole was in so cold, so flat, an d u nafi

'

ect in g aman n er, thatI amafraid of n ot being beli eved,when I afii rmi t .” Czbber’s

Ap ology, 4to.

9 See ante, p. 1 13.

3 I had read Polybius in Engl i sh , wi th the pleasu re of aboy, before I was ten years of age ; and yet, even then , hadsome dark n ot ion s of the pruden ce wi thwh ich he con du ctedh is design , particu lar ly in makingme kn ow, and almost see,the places where su ch an d su ch action swere performed . Th iswas the first d istin ct ion wh ich I was then capable of mak ingb etwixt him an d other h istorian s wh ich I read early. Bu t

when , be ing of a riper age, I took himagain in tomy han ds, Imu s t n eed s say I have profi ted more by read ing himthan byThu cyd ides, A ppian , D ion Cassiu s, and al l the res t of th eGreek h istori an s together ; and amongst al l the Roman s,n on e have reached h imi n th i s particu lar, bu t Tac i tu s,who isequalwi th him.

”—D 7yden’

s W07 123, vol. xviii ., p .


these studies he could descend to read romancesand the present edi tor records with pride, thatDryden was a decided admirer of old ballads, andpopular tales . l His researches sometimes extendedinto the vain province of judicial astrology, inwhich he was a firm believer ; and there is reasonto think that he also credited divination by dreams.In the country, he delighted in the past ime of

fishing, and used, says Mr Malone, to spend sometime with Mr Jones of Ramsden, in Wiltshir e.Durfey was sometimes of this party ; but Drydenappears to have undervalued his skill in fishing, asmuch as his attempts at poetry. Hence Fenton, inhis epistle to Mr Lambard

By long experi ence, Du rfeymay n o dou btEn snare a gu dgeon , or somet imes a trou tYet D ryden on ce exclaim’d in part ial spi te,HefishI—becau se theman attempts to wr i te .

I may conclude this notice of Dryden’s habits,whi ch I have been enabled to give chiefly by theresearches of Mr Malone, with two notices of a.minute nature . Dryden was a great taker of snu fi

'

,

which he prepared himself. Moreover, as a prepa

1 I fi nd,” says G i ldon , Mr Bayes, the you nger, [Rowe,]h as two qual i t ies, l ike Mr Bayes, the elder ; h is admirat ion of

some odd books, as Reynard the Fox,’ and the old ballad s of‘ Jan e Shore, ’ &c.—Remarks on Mr Rowe’s Plays. Reyn ardthe Fox,” i s al so men t ion ed in The Town and Cou n tryMou se,” as a favou ri te book of D ryden ’s. A nd A dd i son , inthe 85th number of the Spectator, in forms u s, that Dorset andD ryden del ighted in peru sing the collect ion of old balladswhi ch the latter possessed .


’

days, the fri endship of his relations, John DridenOf Chesterton, and Mrs Steward of Cotterstock,ren dered their houses agreeable places of abode tothe aged poet. They appear also to have had a

'

kind soli citude about his little comforts, of valueinfinitely beyond the contributions which they madet owards aiding them. A nd thus conclud es all thatwe have learned of the private life of Dryden.

The fate of Dryden’s family must necessarilyinterest the admirers of Engli sh lite rature. It

consisted of his wife, Lady Elizabeth Dryden, andthree sons, John, Charles, and Erasmus-Henry.

Upon the poet’s death, it may be believed, theyfelt themselves slenderly provided for, since all hisefforts, while alive, were necessary to secure themfrom the gripe of penury. Yet their situation wasn ot very distressing. John and Erasmus- Henrywere abroad ; and each had an offi ce at Rome, bywhich he was able to support himself. Charles hadfor some time been entirely dependent on his

father, and administered to hi s effects, as he diedwithout a will. The liberali ty of the Duchess BfO rmond, and of Briden Of Chesterton, had beenlately received, and probably was not expended .

There was, besides, the poet’s little patr imonial

estate, and a small property in Wiltshire, whichthe Earl of Berkshire settled upon Lady Eliz abethat her marriage, and which yielded L .5O or L .60

annually. There was therefore an income of aboutL .IOO a—year, to maintain the poet

’s widow andchildren enough in those times to support them indecent frugality.


Lady Elizabeth Dryden’s temper had long dis

turbed her husband’s domestic happiness. His

invectives,” says MrMalone , against the married

state, are frequent and bitter, and were continuedto the latest period of his life and he adds, frommost respectable author ity, that the family of thepoet held no intimacy with his lady, confiningtheir intercourse to mere visits of ce remony. A.

simi lar alienation seems to have taken place betweenher and her own relations, Sir Rebert Howard,perhaps, be ing excepted ; for her brother, theHonourable Edward Howard, talks of Dryden’sbeing engaged in a translation of Virgil, as athing he had learned merely by common report. l

Her wayward di sposition was, however, the effectof a di sordered imagination, which, shortly afterDryden’s death, degenerated into absolu te insanity,in which state she remained until her death insummer 1 7 14, probably, says Mr Malone, in theseventy-ninth year of her life.2

l A nte, p. 84.

s No au then tic accou n t has been tran smi tted of herp erson , n or has any portrai t of her been d i scovered . I amafraid her person al attract ion s were n ot superior to hermental endowmen ts, that her temper waswayward, and that thepu r ity of her characterwas sul l i ed by some early in discretion s.A letter fromL ady Eliz abeth to her son at Rome i s preserved,as remarkable for the elegan ce of the style, as the correctnessof the orthography . She says, Your father i smu ch atwoonas to h i s health , and h is defn ese i s n ot wosoe, bu t much ashe was when he was heare ; g iveme a tru e accou n t howmyd eare son n Charlles i s head dus.

’—Can th i s be the ladywhohad formerly held captive in her chain s the gallan t Earl ofChesterfield —Mi§ford’s Lifeq ryden, p.


’

Dryden ’s three sons, says the inscription by Mrs

Creed, were ingenious and accomplished gen tleé

men . Charles, the eldest, and favour ite son of the

poet, was born at Charlton, W iltshire, in 1 666.

He'

received a classical education under Dr Busby,his father’s preceptor, and was chosen King

’ sScholar in 1680. Being elected to Trinity College in Cambridge, he was admitted a member in1 683. It would have been difficult for the son of

Dryden to refrain from att empting poetry ; butthough Charles escaped the fate of Icarus, he wasvery, very far from emulating his father

’s soaringflight. Mr Malone has furnished a list of hiscompositions in Latin and English.

1 A bout 1692,he went to Italy, and through the interest ofCardinal Howard, to whom he was related by themother’s side, he became Chamberlain of the Household ; not, as Corinna pretends, “to that remark;ablyfi ne gentleman , Pope Clement XL,

” but toPope Innocent X I I. H is way to this prefermentwas smoothed by a pedigree drawn up in Latinby his father, of the famil ies Of Dryden andHoward, whi ch is said to have been deposited inthe Vatican. Dryden, whose turn for judicial

1 These are, 1 , L atin verses, prefixed to L ord Roscommon ’s

Essay on Tran slated Verse . 2, L atin verses on th e D ea thof Charles I I . , pu bl i shed in the Cambr idge col lection of Ele

giea on that occasion . 3, A poemin the same langu age, u ponLord A rl ington

’s Garden s, pu bl ished in the Secon d Miscellan y. 4, A trans lat ion of the seven th Satire of Ju ven al,men t ion ed in the text . 5, A n Engl i sh poem, on the Happin ess of a Retired L ife. 6, A pretty song, prin ted by Mr

Malon e, towh ich Charles Dryden also composedmu sic.


degraded into the A ppendix ,l the romantic nar

retive of Corinna, concerning his father’s predic

t ion, already men tioned. It contains, like heraccount Of the funeral Of the poet, much positivefalsehood, an d gross improbability,with some slightscantling Of foundation in fact.John Dryden, the poet

’s second son , was bornin 1667, or 1668, was admitted a King

’s Scholarin Westminster i n 1682, and elected to Oxfordin 1685. Here he became a private pupil of thecelebrated Obadiah Walker, Master Of UniversityCollege, a Roman Catholic. It seems probablethat young D ryden became a convert to that faithbefore his father. H is religion making it impossible for himto succeed in England, he followedhis brother Charles to Rome, where he officiatedas his deputy in the Pope’s household . JohnDryden translated the fourteenth Satire of Ju venal, publi shed in his father

’s version, and wrotea comedy, entitled, The Husband his ownCuckold,

” acted in L incoln’s- Inn Fields in 1696 ;Dryden, the father, furnishing a prologue, andCongreve an epilogue . In 1 700—1 , he made a

This play, ye critics, shall you r fury stand,A dorned and rescu ed by a fau ltless hand.’

Towh ich our au thor repl i es,I long endeavou r’d to support the stage,W ith the fai n t copies of thy n obler rage,B u t toi l’d in vain for an ungenerous age.They starvedme l iving ; n ay, den i edme fame,And scarce. nowdead , do justi ce tomy name.Wou ld you repen t Be tomy ashes kind ;Indulge the pledg es I have left behmd. ‘

l Dryden ’s Works, vol. xvii i.


tour throu gh Sicily and Malta, and his journalwas published in 1 706. It seems odd, that, in thewhole course of his j ournal, he never mentions hisfather’s name, nor makes the least allusion to hisvery recent death. John Dryden, the younger,died at Rome soon after thi s excursion.Erasmus -Henry, Dryden

’s third son , was born2d May, 1669, and educated in the Charter-House ,to which he was nominated by Charles II., shortlyafter the publi cation of A bsalom and A chitophel.”

He does not appear to have been at any university ; probably his religi on was the Obstacle . Likehis brothers, he went to Rome ; and as both hisfather and mother requ est his prayers, we are tosuppose he was originally destined for the church.But he became a Captain in the Pope’s guards,and remained at Rome till John Dryden, his elderbrother’s death. After thi s event, he seems tohave returned to England, and in 1 708 succeededto the title of Baronet, as representative of SirErasmus Driden , the author

’s grandfather. Butthe estate of Canons -A shby, which should haveaccompanied and supported the title, had beendevised by Sir Robert B riden, the poet

’s firstcousin, to Edward Dryden, the eldest son of Erasmus, the younger brother Of the poet. Thus, ifthe author had lived a fewyear s longer, his pecun iery embarrassments would have been embitteredby his succeeding to the honours of his family,without any means of sustaining the rank theygave him. With this Edward Dryden, Sir Erasmus -Henry seems to have resided until his death,


which took place at the family mansion of CanonsA shby in 1 7 10. Edward acted as a manager ofhis cousin’s affairs ; and Mr Malone sees reasonto think, from their mode of accounting, that S irE rasmus- Henry had , like his mother, been vis itedwith mental derangement before his death, andhad resigned into Edward’s hands the whole man agemen t of his concerns . Thus ended the poet’sfamily, none Of his sons survi ving himabove tenyears . The estate of Canons - A shby became againunited to the title, in the person Of John Dryden,the surviving brother. l

Mr Malon e says, Edward D ryden , the eldest son of thelast Sir Erasmu s Dryden , left by h i s wife, El iz abeth A llen ,who d ied ’

In London'

In 1 761 , five son s ; the you ngest ofwhom,

Bevi l,was father of the presen t L ady Dryden . S ir John , theeldest, su rvived all his brothers, an d d ied W i thou t issu e, atCanon s- A shby, March 20,


Dryden.

l Sir John Shadwell, the son of our

author’s ancient adversary, bore an honourable andmanly testimony to the general regr et among themen Of letters at Paris for the death Of DrydenThe men Of letters here lament the loss Of Mr

Dryden very much. The honours paid to himhave done our countrymen no small service for,

next to having so considerable a man of our owngrowth,

’tis a reputation to have known how tovalue him ; as patrons very Often pass for wits, bye steeming those that are so .

” A nd from anotherauthority we learn , that the engraved copies Of

Dryden’s portrai t were bought up with avidity on

the Continent. ’1

But in England the loss of Dryden was as anational deprivation. It is seldom the extent Ofsuch a loss is understood, till it has taken place ;as the size Of an Object is best estimated, when wesee the space void which it has long occupied.

T hemen of literature, starting as it were from adream, began to heap commemorations, panegyr ics,and elegies the great were as much astonished attheir own neglect of such an Object Of boun ty, asif the same omission had never been practised before and expressed as much compunction , as if itwere never to occur again. The poets were not

silent ; but their strains only evinced their woeful

SO says Charles B loun t, in th e ded ication to the ReligioL a ici . He i s con trad icted by TomBrown .

In a poempubl i shed on D ryden ’s d eath , by Brome, wri tten ,

as Mr Malon e conjectu res, by Captain Gibbon , son of

the physician .


d egeneracy from himwhom theymourn ed. HenryPlayford, a publisher of music, collect ed their elfusions into a compilation, entitled, Lu ctus Britannici

, or the Tears Of the Briti sh Muses, for thedeath of John Dryden ; which he published abouttwo months after Dryden’s death.

l Nine ladies,assuming each the character of a Muse, and clubbing a funeral Ode, or elegy, produced TheNineMuse s of which very rare (and very worthless)collection, I have given a short accoun t in the A ppendix ;

2 where the reader will also find an ode onthe same subj ect, by Oldys, which may serve forample specimen of the poeti cal lamentations overDryden.

The more costly, though equally u nsubstantial,honour Of a monument,was projected byMontague ;and loud were the acclamations of the poets on his

1 In The Postboy,” for Tu esday, May 7, 1700, Playfordin serted the fol lowing advert isemen t

The death of the famou s John Dryden , Esq. , Poet Laureat to their two late Majesties, King Charles, and KingJames the Secon d, being a su bj ect capable of employing th ebes t pen s ; an d several person s of qu al i ty, and others, havingpu t a stop to his in termen t, wh ich i s design ed to be in Chaucer’s grave, in Westmi n ster- A bbey th is i s to d es ire the gent lemen of the two famou s Un iversi ties, an d others, who havea respect for thememory of the d eceased, and are in cl in able toSu ch performan ces, to sen d what copies they please, as Ep igrams, &c. to Hen ry Playford, at h is shop at the Temple’Change, in Fleet- stree t, an d they shall be in sert ed in a.Collect ion, wh ich i s design ed after the same n atu re, an d in the samemethod, (in what language they shal l please ) as is u su al in thecomposu res wh ich are prin ted on solemn occas ion s, at the twoUn i vers i ties aforesaid .

”Thi s advert i semen t, (wi th some

alteration s,) was con t inu ed for amon th in the same paper.,

9 Dryden ’s Works, vol. xvi ii.


generous forgiveness of past dis cords with Dryden,and themu nificence Of this universal patron. B ut

Montague never accomplished his purpose, if heseriously entertained it. Pelham, Duke of Newcastle, announced the same intention received thepanegyric Of Congreve for having done so ; and,having thus pocketed the applause, proceeded noftu'ther thanMontague had done . A t length Pope,in some lines which were rather an epitaph onDryden, who lay in the vicinity, than on Rowe,over whose tomb they were to be placed, l rousedDryden’s original patron, Sheffield, formerly EarlOf Mulgrave, and now Duke of Buckingham, to

erect over the grave Of hi s friend the present simplemonument whi ch distinguishes it. The inscription was comprised in the followi ng wordsJ. D ryden . Natus 1 632. Mortu us l Ma ii, 1 700.

Joannes Shefi leld D uo: Buchinghamiensis p osa it,

l Thy reliqu es, Rowe. to this fair umwe trust,A nd sacred place by Dryden ’s awfu l dustBeneath a rude and n ameless stone he li es,To which thy tomb shall gu ide enqu iri ng eyesPeace to thy gen tle shade, and endless rest !B lest in thy gen ius, In thy love too , blest !One gratefu lwoman to thy fame supplies,What awhole thankless land to his den ies."

3 The epitaph at first in ten ded by Pope for th i smonumen t,

This Sheffield rais’d ; the sacred d ust belowWas Dryden once —the rest ,who does n ot kn ow

A tterbu ry had thu swr i tten to himon th i s subject, in 1720What I said to you in min e, abou t themon umen t, was in

t en ded on ly to qu i cken , n ot to alarmyou . I t i s n ot worthyour wh i le to kn owwhat Imean t by i t bu t when I see you ,you shall. I hope you may be at the Dean ery towards the endof October, bywh ich t ime I th in k of settl ing there for the

402 mmor JOHN DRYDEN.

depreciate Dryden, whose fame was defended byPope and Congreve .

‘ NO serious invasion ofDryden’s preeminence can be said, however, tohave taken plac e, till Pope himself, refining uponthat structure Of versifi cation which our author hadfirst introduced, and attending with sedulous diligence to improve every passage to the highestpitch of point and harmony, exhibited a new styleof composition, and claimed at least to share withDryden the sovereignty Of Parnassus. I will notatt empt to concentrate what Johnson has said uponthis interesting comparison.

In acqu ired knowledge, the su perior i tymu st be allowedto D ryden , whose ed ucation was more scholastic, and who,before h e became an au thor, had been allowed more t ime forstudy, wi th better mean s of information . His min d has alarger range, and he collects h i s images and i l lu strat ion s froma more exten sive c ircumferen ce of sc ience. D ryden kn ewmore ofman in h is gen eral n ature, and Pope in h is localmann ers. The n ot ion s of D ryden were formed by comprehen sivespecu lation , an d those of Pope byminu te atten t ion . There ismore d ign i ty in the knowledge of D ryden , an dmore cer tain tyin that of Pope .Poetry was n ot the sole praise of e ith er ; for both excel led

l ikewi se in prose bu t Pope d id n ot borrowh is prose fromhispredecessor. The s tyle Of D ryden i s capric iou s and vari ed,that of Pope i s cau t iou s an d u n iform. Dryd en obeys themot ion s of h is own min d, Pope con strain s his min d to his ownru les of composi tion. Dryden is sometimes vehemen t andrapid ; Pope i s always smooth, u n iform, an d gen tle. Dryd en ’s page i s a n atural field, r i sing in to in equ ali ti es, an d d iversified by the var ied exu beran ce of abun dan t vegetation ; Pope

’

s

is a velvet lawn , shaven by the scythe, an d levelled by theroller.1 A ddisonwas so eager tobe the first name, that he and his friend

Sir Ri chard Steele u sed to ru n down Dryden ’s characteras far as theycou ld . Pope and Congreve u sed to support i —TON80N- 6)mwe’eAnecdotes, (Malone ,) p .

mmor JOHN DRYDEN. 403

Of gen iu s, that power wh ich con sti tu tes a poet ; thatqu al i ty,wi thou t wh ich j u dgmen t i s co ld, and kn owledge i sin ert ; that en ergy, wh ich collects, combin es, ampl ifies, an d

an imates the super iori ty mu st, wi th some hesi tat ion , beal lowed to Dryden . I t i s n ot to be in ferred, that of thi s poe»t ical vigour Pope had on ly a l i ttle, becau se Dryden hadmore ;for every other wr i ter, sin ceM i lton ,mu st g ive place to Popeand even of D ryden i tmu st be said, that if he has brighterparagraph s, he has not better poems. Dryden ’s performan ceswere always hasty, either exc i ted by some extern al occas ion ,or extorted by domestic n ecessity ; he composed wi thou t cons ideration , an d pu bl i shed wi thou t correct ion. What h i smind could supply at call, or gather in one excu rsion ,was allthat he sought, and al l that he gave. The d i latory cau t ion of

Pope en abled himto conden se hi s sen t imen ts, tomul tiply h isimages, an d to accumu late al l that stu dymight produ ce, or

ch an ce migh t su pply . If the fl ights of Dryden , therefore,are h igher, Pope con t in u es longer on thewing. If of Dryd en ’s fire the blaz e i s brighter, of Pope the heat i smore regular an d con stan t. Dryden Often surpasses expectation , an d

Pope n ever falls below i t. Dryden i s read wi th frequ en taston i shmen t, and Pope wi th perpetual d el ight.”l t“I toldMoore, not very long ago, we are all wrong, except

Rogers, Crabbe, and Campbell. ’ In the meantime, the best S ign of

amendmen twill be repen tance, and newand frequ en t edi tions ofPopeand Dryden .

There will be found as comfortable metaphysics, and ten timesmore poetry in the Essay on Man ,

’than in the Excu rsion.

’ Whereis it to be found stronger than in the epistle fromEloisa to A belard,or in Palemon and A rc ite D o you wish for invention , imagination ,

sublimity, character Seek themin the Rape of the Lock, the Fablesof Dryden , the Od e of Sain t Cecili a’s day, and A bsalomand A chi tophel. You wi ll di scover in these two poets only, all forwhich youmust ransack inn umerable metres, and God on ly kn ows howmanywri ter: of the day,withou t finding a tittle of the same qu ali ties,—withthe add ition , too, Of wit, of which the latter have n one. 1 have n ot,however, forgotten Thomas Brown the You nger, nor the FudgeFami ly, nor Whistlecraft bu t that is n otwit—i t is humour. IWi llsay n othing of the harmony of Pope and Dryden in comparison , for

there is not a l iving poet (except Rogers, Glfi b l‘d, Campbell, and

Crabbe) who can write an hero ic cou plet. The fact is, that theexqu isite beau ty Of their versifi cat ion haswithdrawn the pu blic at

ten tion fromtheir other exce llences, as the vu lgar eyewill restmoreu pon the splendour of the uniformthan the qu ality of the troops ”.Braos, vol. xv., p.


As the eighteenth century advanced, the difi'

ér

ence between the styles Of these celebrated authorsbecame yet more man ifest. It was then Obvious,that though Pope’s felicity of expression, hisbeautiful polish of sentiment, and the occasionalbrill iancy of his wit, were not easily imitated, yetmany authors, by dint of a good ear, and a fluentexpression, learned to command the un alteredsweetness Of his melody, which, like a favouritetune, whi ch has descended to hawkers and balladsingers, became appalling and even disgusting as itbecame common. The admirers Of poetry thenreverted to the brave negligence Of Dryden’s versification ,as, to use Johnson

’s simile, the eye, fatiguedwith the uniformity Of a lawn, seeks variety in theu ncultivated glade or swelling mountain. The preference for which Dennis, as serting the cause Of

Dryden, had raved and thundered in vain, began,by degrees, to be assigned to the elder bard ; andmany a poet sheltered his harsh verses and inequ alities under an assertion that he belonged to the

school of Dryden .

l ChurchillWho, born for the u ni verse, narrow’d hismind,

A n d to party gave u p what wasmean t forman k in d,”

Churchill was one of the first to seek in the Mac

1 [“Ilearn ed versificat ionwholly fromtheworks ofDryden ,who had improved i t mu ch beyon d any of ou r former poets,and would probably have brought i t to i ts perfect ion , had hen ot been u nhappily obl iged towr i te so often in haste.

Dryden always u ses proper langu age, l ively, n atu ral, an d fi tcd to the su bj ect . i t is scarce ever too high or t oo low; n ever,perhaps, except in his p lays.”—PorE—Sp ence’s A necdotes,

p. 1 14 ][FromGoldsmi th’s l in es on Burke '

In Retaliatiomfl


have been intentionally reserved to illustrate a fewpages Of general criticism, Ifeel myself free fromthe diffi cult, and almost contradictory task, Of drawing my maxims and examples from the extendedcourse of his literary career . My present task islimited to deducing his poetic character from thoseworks which he formed on his last and most approved model. The general tone Of his geniu s,however, influenced the whole course of his publications ; and upon that, however modified andv aried by the improvement of his taste, a fewpreliminary notices may not be misplaced .

The distingui shing characteristic of Dryden’sgenius seems to have been, the power of reasoning,and of expressing the result in appropriate language. Thi s may seem slender prai se yet thesewere the talents that led Bacon into the recesses ofphilosophy, and condu cted Newton to the cabinetof nature. 1 The prose works Of Dryden bear

There i s noth ing very happy in these al lu sion s. NeitherBacon n or Newton were poets ; an d i t i s of poets alon e thatsu ch praise cou ld possibly appear slender. To u s, we own , i tappears both slen der in i tself, and defective wi th respect toD ryden : in a charac ter of S ir John Davis, n o better termscou ld have been chosen . The lead ing featu re of th is greatpoet’s mind was i ts rapid i ty of con ception , combin ed wi tht hat,wh ich i s the excellen ce of some great pain ters,—a read ln ess Of expressing every idea, wi thou t losing any th ing by th eway. Whatever he does, whether he reason s, relates, or de

scr ibes, he i s n ever, to u se h is own phrase, cursedly confi ned ;n ever lo i ters abou t a s ingle though t or image, or seems tolabou r abou t the tu rn of a phrase. Though he hasmany sloven ly an d feeble l in es, perhaps scarce any poet has so few

whi ch have failed forwan t Of power tomake thembetter. He

n ever, like Pope, forces an awkward rhyme, or spin s ou t a


repeated evidence to his philosophi cal powers.H is philosophy was not indeed of a formed andsystematic character ; for he is often contented toleave the path of argument which must have con

ducted him to the fountain of truth, and to resortwith indolence or indifference to the leaky cisternswhich had been hewn out by former critics . Butwhere his pride or his taste are interested, heshows evidently, that it was not deficiency in thepower of systematizing, but want of the time andpatience necessary to form a system, which occasioned the discrepancy that we often not ice in hiscritical and philological disquisitions . This powerof ratiocination, of investigating, discover ing, andappreciating that whi ch is really excellent, ifaccompanied with the necessary command of fauciful illustration, and elegant expression, is the mostinteresting quality which can be possessed by a poet.It must indeed have a share in the composit ion ofevery thing that is truly estimable in the fine arts,as well as in philosophy. Nothing is so easilyattained as the power of presenting the extrinsicqual ities of fine painting, fine music, or fine poetry ;the beauty of colour and outline, the combin ationof notes, the melody of versification , may be 1mitated by artists of mediocrity and many will view,hear, or peruse their performances, without beingable positively to discover why they should not,

cou plet for the sake of a po in ted con clu sion . His thoughts, hi slanguage, hi s versificat ion , have all a certain an imat ion an d

elastic i ty which no one else has ever equally possessed .

”

HA LLAM, 1808.j


since composed according to all the rules, afl'

ord

pleasure equal to those of Raphael, Handel, orDryden. The defic iency lies in the vivifying spirit,which, like alcohol, may be redu ced to the sameprinciple in all the fine arts, though it assumes suchvari ed qualities fromthe mode in whi ch it is exertedor combined . Of this power of intellect, Drydenseems to have possessed almost an exu berant share,combined, as usual, with the faculty Of correctinghis own conceptions, by observing human nature,the practical and experimental philosophy as wellof poetry as of ethi cs or physics . The early habitsof Dryden’s education and poetical studies gavehis researches somewhat too much of a metaphysical character ; and it was a consequence Of his

mental acuteness, that his dramatic personagesoften philosophized or reasoned, when they oughtonly to have felt. The more lofty, the fiercer, themore ambitiou s feelings, seem also to have beenhis favourite studies . Perhaps the analytical modein which he exercised his studies of human life,tended to confine his observation to the moreenergetic feelings of pride, anger, ambition, andother high- toned passions. He that mixes in publiclife must see enough of these stormy convuls ions ;but the finer and more imperceptible operations oflove in its sentimental modificat ions, if the heartof the au thor does not supply an example fromits own feelings, cannot easily be studi ed at theexpense of others. Dryden’s bosom, it must beowned, seems to have afforded him n o such meansof information ; the license of his age, and perhaps


review at his command. External pictures, and

their corresponding influence on the spectator, areequally ready at his summons ; and though hispoetry, from the nature of his subjects, is in general rather ethi c and didactic, than narrative, yetno sooner does he adopt the latter style Of composition, than his figures and his landscapes arepresented to the mind with the same vivacity asthe flowof his reasoning, or the acute metaphysicaldi scrimination of his characters.Still the powers of Observation and of deduction

are not the only qualities essential to the poeticalcharacter. The philosopher may indeed prosecutehis experimental researches into the arcana Of

nature, and announce them to the public throughthe medium of a friendly redacteu r, as the legislator of Israel obtained permission to speak to thepeople by the voice of A aron : but the poet hasn o such privilege ; nay, his doom is so far capricions, that, though he may be possessed of theprimary quality of poetical conception to the highestpossible extent, it is bu t like a lu te without itsstrings, unless he has the subordin ate, thoughequally essential, power of expressing what hefeels and conceives, in appropriate an d harmoniouslanguage . With this power Dryden’s poetry wasgifted, in a degree surpassing in modulated harmany that of all who had preceded him, and infe~

rior to none that has since written English verse .He first showed that the English language wascapable of uniting smoothness and strength. Thehobbling verses of his predecessors were abandoned


even by the lowest versifiers and by the force ofhis precept and example, the meanest lampoonersof the year seventeen hundred wrote smootherlines than Donne and Cowley, the chief poets ofthe earlier half of the seventeenth century. Whatwas said of Rome adorned by A ugustus, has been,by Johnson, applied to English poetry improvedby Dryden ; that he found it Of brick, and left itof marble. Thi s reformation was not merely theeffect of an excellent ear, and a superlative command of gratifying it by sounding language ; itwas, we have seen, the effect Of close, accurate, andcontinued study of the power of the Englishtongue. Upon what principles he adopted andcontinued his system of versification , he long meditated to communi cate in his projected prosody ofEnglish poetry. The work, however, might havebeen more curious than useful, as there would havebeen some danger of its diverting the attention,and misguiding the efforts of poetical adventurers ;for as it is more easy to be masons than archi tects,we may deprecate an art which might teach theworld to value those who can bu ild rhymes, withou t attending to the more essential quali ties Of

poetry. Str ict attention might no doubt discoverthe principle of Dryden’s versificat ion ; but itseems no more essential to the analyzing hi s poetry,than the principles ofmathematics to understandingmusic, although the art necessarily depends onthem. The extent in whi ch Dryden reformedour poetry, is most readily proved by an appealto the ear ; and Dr John son has forcibly stated,


that he knew how to choose the flowing andthe sonorous words ; to vary the pauses and adjustthe accents ; to di versify the cadence, and yetpreserve the smoothness of the metre . To varythe English hexameter, he established the use ofthe triplet and Al exandrine. Though r idiculedby Swift, who vainly thought he had explodedthem for ever, their force is still acknowledged inclassical poetry.

Of the various kinds of poetry which Drydenoccasionally practised, the drama was that which,until the last six years of his life, he chiefly reliedon for su pport . His style of tragedy, we haveseen, varied with his improv ing taste, perhapswith the change of manners . A lthough the heroicdrama, as we have described it at length in thepreceding pages, presented the strongest temptation to the exercise Of argumentative poetry insounding rhyme, Dryden was at length contentedto abandon it for the more pure and chaste styleof tragedy, whi ch professes rather the representation of human beings, than the creation of idealperfection, or fantastic and anomalous characters.The best of Dryden’s performances in this latterstyle are unquestionably Don Sebastian, and“All for Love.” Of these, the former is in thepoet’s very best manner ; exhibiting dramaticpersons, consisting of such bold and impetuouscharacters as he delighted to draw, well contrastcd, forcibly marked, and engaged in an interestingsu ccession of events. To many tempers, the scenebetween Sebastian and Dorax, already noticed,


almost essential to the success of a j est, that itshould at least seem to be extemporaneous . If weespy the joke at a distance, nay, if without seeingit we have the least reason to suspect we are travelling towards one, it i s astonishing how the perverseobstinacy of our nature delights to refuse its curreney. When, therefore, as is often the case inDryden

’s comedies, two persons remain on thestage for no Obvious purpose but to say good things,it is no wonder they receive but little thanks froman ungrateful audience . The incidents, therefore,and the characters, ought to be comi c ; but actualje sts, or ban mots, should be rarely introduced, andthen naturally, easily, wi thout an appearance of

premedi tation, and bearing a strict conformi ty tothe character of the person who utters them .

l Co

mic situation Dryden did not greatly study ; indeedI hardly recollect any scene, unless the closing one

of The Spanish Friar ,”which indi cates any pecu

I In on e of Dryden ’s plays th ere was th i s l in e,wh ich theactress endeavou red to speak in asmoving and affect ing a ton eas she cou ld :

Mywound is great—because it is so small,’an d then she pau sed an d looked very d i stressed. The D ukeof Bu ck ingham,

who was in on e of the boxes, rose immed iately fromh is seat, an d added in a lou d r id icu l ing ton e ofvo ice

Then 'twoq be greaterwere it none at all,’

wh ich had su ch an effect on the aud ien ce,who beforewere notvery we ll pleased wi th the play, that they hi ssed the poorwoman 03 the stage, would n ever hear her appearan ce in therest of her part, and as this was the secon d t ime on ly of i tsappearan ce, mad e D ryden lose h is ben efi t n ight.”—Locxu :a

- Sp ence’

: Anecdotes, (Malon e,) p.


liar felicity Of invention. For comic character, heis usually contented to paint a generic representative of a certain class of men or women ; a FatherDominic, for example, or a Melantha, with all theattri butes of their calling and manners, strongly anddivertingly pourtrayed, but without any individuality of character. It is probable that, with thesedeficiencies, he felt the truth of his own acknowledgment, and that he was forced upon composingcomedies to gratify the taste of the age, while thebent of his genius was otherwise directed.

1

In lyrical poetry, Dryden must be allowed tohave no equal. Al exander’s Feast” is sufficient toshow his supremacy in that br illian t department. 2

In thi s exquisite production, he flung from himall

the trappings wi th which his contemporaries hadembarrassed the ode . The language, lofty andstriking as the ideas are, is equally simple and har

Dryden , strong and n ervou s as was h ismu se in otherwalks, had no talen t for dramatic poetry . He descr ibed n atu ret omake passion declamatory ; an d, prosti tu t ing h is faci l ityat rhyming, shackled the free measu res of our trag ic versewi th an imi tation Fren ch j ingle, more in su pportable, if poss ible,when recu rr in g at every ten th, than at every fourteen thsyllable. He preserved n o l iken ess to human creatures inpain t ing their heart s ; bu t throwing as ide the sock an d bu s

kin , mou n ted both tragedy and comedy u pon st ilts ; and hewas the less able to resist the bad taste of h is t imes, becausehe wrote for bread .

”—Quarterly Review, July, 1823 ]3 Many people would l ike my Ode on Mu sic better, if

D ryden had n everwr i tten on that su bj ec t. I t was at therequ est of Mr S teele that I wrote min e ; an d n ot wi th anythough t of r ivall ing that greatman , whosememory I do, andhave always reveren ced .

‘—POFE—Sp ence’s Anecdotes, (Male n e,) p .


monious without farfetched allusions, or epithets,or metaphors, the story is told as intelligibly as if ithad been in the most humble prose. The changeof tone in the harp of Timotheus, regulates themeasure and the melody, and the language of everystanza. The he arer, while he is led on by thesuccessive changes, experiences almost the feelingsof the Macedonian and his peers ; nor is the splendid poem disgraced by on e word or line unworthyof it, unless we jo in in the severe criticismof DrJohnson, on the concluding stanzas . It is true, thatthe praise of St Cecilia is rather abruptly introduced as a con clusion to the account Of the Feastof Alexander ; and it is also true, that the comparison,

He raised amortal to the sky,She drewan angel down ,"

is inaccurate, since the fate of Timotheus was meta

phorical, and that of Cecili a literal. But while westoop to such criticism, we seek for blots in thesun .

Of Dryden’s other pindarics, some, as the celebrated Ode to the Memory of Mrs Killigrew,

”

are mixed with the leaven of Cowley ; others, likethe Threnodz

'

a A ugustalz'

s,”are occasionally flat

and heavy. A ll contain passages of brilliancy, andall are thrown into a versification , melodious amidstits irregular ity. We listen for the completion of

Dryden’s stanza, as for the expli cation of a diffi cult

passage in music ; and wild and lost as the soundappears, the ear is proportionally gratified by the


correct this among other errors of his age ; to showthe difference between burlesqu e and satire and toteach his successors in that species of assault, ratherto thrust than to flourish with their weapon . For

this purpose he avo ided the unvaried and unrelievedstyle of grotesque descript ion and combination,

'

which had been fashionable since the satires of

Cleveland and Butler . To render the Objects ofhis satire hateful and contemptible, he thought itnecessary to preserve the lighter shades of character, if not for the pu rpose of softening the portrait,at least for that Of preserving the likeness . WhileDryden seized, and dwelt upon, and aggravated, allthe evil features of his subject, he carefully retainedjust as much of its laudable traits as preserved himfrom the charge of want of candour, and fixeddown the resemblance upon the party. A nd thus,in stead Of unmeaning caricatu res, he presents portraitswhich cannot be mistaken, however unfavourable ideas they may convey of the originals. Thecharacter of Shaftesbury, both as A chitophel, andas drawn in The Medal,

” bears peculiar witnessto this assertion. While other court poets endeavoured to turn the Obnoxious statesman intor idicule, on account of his personal infirmit ies andextravagances, Dryden boldly confers upon himall the praise for talent and for genius that his“friends could have claimed, and trusts to the forceo f his satirical expression for working up eventhese admirable attributes with such a mixture ofevil propensities and dangerous qualities, that thewhole character shall appear dreadful, and even


hateful, but not contemptible. But where a cha

reeter of less note, a Shadwell or a Settle, crossedhis path, the satirist did not lay himself underthese restraints, bu t wrote in the language of

bitter irony and unmeasurable contempt : eventhen, however, we are less called on to admire thewit of the author, than the force and energy of hispoetical philippic. These are the verses which aremade by indignation, and, no more than theatricalscenes of real passion, admit of refined and protracted turns of wit, or even the lighter sall ies ofhumour . These last ornaments are proper in thatHoratian satire, which rather ridicules the foll ies ofthe age, than st igmatiz es the vices of individual sbut in this style Dryden has made few essays . Heentered the field as champion of a political party,or as defender of his own reputation ; discriminatedhis antagonists, and applied the scourge with all

the vehemence of Juvenal. A s he has himselfsaid of that satirist, his provocations were great,and he has revenged them tragically ” Thi s isthe more worthy of notice, as, in the E ssay onSatire,

” Dryden gives a decided preference to

t hose nicer and more delicate touches of satire,which consist in fine raillery. But whatever wasthe opinion of his cooler moments, the poet

’s practice was dictated by the furious party- spirit of thetimes, and the no less keen stimulative of personalresentment. It is perhaps to be regretted, that somuch energy of thought, and so mu ch force of expression, should have been wasted in anatomizingsuch criminals as Shadwell and Settle ; yet we


cannot account the amber less preciou s, becausethey are grabs and flies that are enclosedwithin it .1

The Fables” of Dryden are the best examplesof his talents as a narrative poet those powers ofcomposition, description, and narration, which musthave been called into exercise by the Epic Muse,had his fate allowed him to enlist among her votar ies . The Knight’s Tale,

” the longest and mostlaboured of Chaucer’s stories, possesses a degree ofregularity which might satisfy the most severe cr itic. It is true, that the honou r arising from thencemust be assigned to the more ancient bard, whohad himself drawn his subject from an Italian model ; bu t the high and decided preference whichDryden has given to this story, al though somewhatcensured by Trapp, enables us to judge how mucht he poet held an accurate combination of parts, andcoherence Of narrative, essential s of epic poetry.

2

Perhaps the ann als of poetry do n ot furn ish an in stan ceof amore gen eral en l i stmen t of the Mu ses u n der the ban n ersof party—certain ly n on e when satire became more coarse,person al, and mal ign an t . Whether the gal l flowed froma penof lead or gold , i t was equ al ly u n dilu ted . The den iz en s ofGrub - street employed the scou rge wi th the vulgar feroci ty ofa pari sh headle. Dryden an d Popewielded the imperial kn ou tof the Cz ar Peter, an d the su fferers had on ly the con solationt hat they were flogged by n o common han ds. —Quarterly Review, October,

Novimus j ud iciumD ryden i de p oemate quodamChaucen'

,

p u lchro sane illo, et admodumlaudando, n imirumquad non modovere ep icumsit, sed Iliada etiamatque E neada dagu et, {mo sup eret . Sed novimus eodemtemp ore viri illius mar ina?n on semp eraccuratissimas ease censures, n ec ad severissimamcritices n ormamexactas : illo j udice id p lerumgue Op timumest, quad nunc pm:manibus Izabet, et in qua nunc occupatur.

”


prose fictions demanded more additions from the'

po et than the exuberant imagery of Chaucer. To

select instances would be endless ; but every readerOf poetry has by heart the description Of Iphigeniaasleep, nor are the lin es in Theodore and Honoria,

” which describe the approach of the apparition,and its effects upon animated and inanimated nature,e ven before it becomes visible, less eminent forbeauties of the terrific order

Wh ile l i sten ing to th emu rmur ing leaves he stood,More than amile immersed wi thin the wood,A t on ce thewin d was laid the wh ispering sou n dWas dumb ; a r i sing earthqu ake rocked the groun dW i th d eeper brown the grove was overspread,A su dden horror se iz ed h is giddy head ,A n d h is ears t ingledi an d h is co lour fled.

Nature was in alarm some danger n ighSeem’

d threaten’d, though un seen tomortal eye.”

It may be doubted, however, whether the sim~

plicity of Boccacio’

s narrative has not sometimessuffered by the additional decorations of Dryden.

The retort of Guiscard to Tan cred’s charge ofingratitude is more sublime in the Italian original, l

than as diluted by the English poet into five hexameters. A worse fault occurs in the whole colouring of Sigismonda

’

s passion, to which Dryden has

given a coarse and indelicate character, which hedid not derive from Boccacio, though the Italian

“Amor p uo tropp o p it) , che 'n e voi ne io p osszamo .

”This

sen timen t loses i ts d ign i ty amid the levell ing of mou n tain sand raising plain s," wi thwh ich D ryden has chosen to i llust rate i t .


be apt enough to sin in that particular. In likemanner, the plea used by Palamon in his prayer toVenus, is more nakedly expressed by Dryden thanby Chaucer. The former, indeed, would probablyhave sheltered himself under the mantle of Lucretius ; but he should have recollected, that Palamonspeaks the language of chivalry, and ought not, touse an expression of Lord Herbert, to have spokenlike a p aillard , but a cavalier . Indeed, we havebefore noticed it as the most obvious and mostdegrading imperfection of Dryden’s poetical imagination, that he could not refine that passion, which,of all qthers, is susceptible either of the purest .

refinement, or of admit t ing the basest alloy. WithChaucer, Dryden

’s task was more easy than withBoccacio. Barrenness was not the fault of theFather of English poetry ; and amid the profusionof images which he presented, his irn itator had onlythe task of rejecting or selecting. In the sublimedescri ption of the temple of Mars, painted aroundwith all themisfort lmes ascribed to the influence ofhis planet, it would be difficu lt to point ou t a singleidea, which is not found in,

the older poem . ButDryden has judiciously omitted or softened somedegrading and some disgusting circumstances ; as

the cook scalded in spite of his long ladle,”the

swine devour ing the cradled infant,” the pick

purse,” and other circumstances too grotesqu e or

ludicrou s, to harmonize with the dreadful grouparound them . Some points, also, of sublimity, havee scaped the modern poet. Su ch is the appropriate


and picturesque accompaniment of the statue Of

Mars :A wolf stood before h imat his fee t,Wi th eyen red , an d of aman he eat. ” 1

In the dialo gue, or argumentative parts of thepoem,

Dryden has fr equently improved on hisoriginal, while he falls something short of himinsimple description, or in pathetic effect. Thus, thequarrel between Ar cite and Palamon is wroughtu p with greater energy by Dryden than Chaucer,particularly by the addition of the following lines,describing the enmity of the captives against eachother

Nowfrien ds n omore, n orwalking han d in hand,B u t when theymet , theymade a su rly stan d,A nd glar ed l ike angry l ion s as they pass’d,A nd wish’

d that every lookmight be their last.”

But the modern mu st yield the palm, despite thebeauty of his versificat ion , to the description of

Emily by Chaucer ; and may be justly accused of

loading the dying speech of Ar cite with conceitsfor which his original gave no au thority.

2

A n emblemof a similar’kin d (a tiger devou ring aman )was fou n d in the palace of Tippoo Su ltan.

A s Near bl i ss, and yet n ot blessed .

” Dryden 's Works,vol . xi . , p. 315, an d th ismerc iless quibble,where A rci te comp lain s of the flames he endures for Emily

orsu ch a goddess n o time leaves record ,Who bu rn t the templewhere she was adored.

Yet Dryden , in the preface, declaims again st the inop emmecop iafecz

’

t ,”an d simi lar j ingles of Ovid .

The Thesez'

de of Boccacio possesses a yet higher claimto


he immediately devises an explanation of the devicewhich he had mistaken

For bows the strength of brawn y arms imply,Emblems of valour, and of victory.”

He has, in like manner, accused Chaucer of introdu cing Gallicisms into the English language ; notaware that French was the language of the courtof—England not long before Chaucer’s time, andthat, far fromintroducing French phrases into theEnglish tongue, the ancient bard was successfullyactive in introducing the English as a fashionabledialect, instead of the French, which had, beforehis time, been the only language of polite literatu rein Englan d. Other instances might be given ofsimilar oversights,which, in the situation ofDryden,are suflicien tly pardonable.Upon the whole, in introducing these romances

of Boccacio and Chaucer to modern readers, Dryden has necessarily deprived them of some of thecharms which they possess for those who haveperused them in their orig inal state. With a taleor poem, by which we have been sincerely iaterest ed, we connect many feelings independentof those arising from actual poetical merit. The

delight, ar ising from the whole, sanctions, naysan ctifies, the faulty passages ; and even actualimprovements, like supplements to a mutilatedstatue of antiquity, injure our preconceived associat ions, and hurt, by their incongruity with our

feelings, more than they give pleasure by theirown excellence. But to antiquaries Dryden hassufficiently justified himself, by declaring his ver


sion made for the sake of modern readers, whounderstand sense and poetry, as well as the old

Saxon admirers of Chaucer, when that poetryand sense are put into words which they canunderstand. Let us also grant him, that, for thebeauties which are lost, he has substituted manywhich the original did not afford ; that, in passages of gorgeous description, he has added evento the chivalrous splendour of Chaucer, and hasgraced with poetical orn ament the simplicity of

Boccac io ; that, if he has failed in tenderness, heis never deficient in majesty ; and that, if the hearthe sometimes untouched, the u nderstanding andfancy are always exercised and delighted .

The philosophy of Dryden, we have alreadysaid, was that of original and penetrating geniusimperfect only, when, from want of time and of

industry, be adopted the ideas of others,when heshould have communed at leisure with his ownmind. The proofs of his philosophical powers arenot to be sought for in any particular poem or

disquisition. Even the “Religio L a ici ,” written

expressly as a philosophi cal poem, only shows howeas ily the most powerful mind may entangle itselfin sophistical toils of its own weaving ; for the trainof argument there pursued was completed by Dryden’s conversion to the Roman Catholic faith.

1 Itis therefore in the discussion of incidental subjects,in his mode of treating points of controversy, inthe new lights which he seldom fails to throw upona controversial subject, in his talent of argumenta

See an te, p . 263.

428. LI FE OF JOHN DRYDEN

tive discussion, that we are to look for the charac terof Dryden’s moral powers . H is opinions, doubtless,are Often incons istent, and somet imes absolutelycontradictory ; for, pressed by the necessity Of dis

cussing the object before him, he seldom lookedback to what he said formerly, or forward to whathe might be obliged to say in future. His solesubject of considerationwas to maintain his presentpoint ; and that by authority, by declamation, byargument, by every means. But his philosophicalpowers are not the less to be estimated, becausethu s irregularly and unphilosophi cally employed .

His arguments, even in the worst cause, bear witn ess to the energy of his mental conceptions andthe skill with which they are stated, elucidated,enforced, and exemplified, ever commands ouradmiration, though, in the result , our reason mayreject their influ ence . It must be rememberedalso, to Dryden

’s honour, that he was the firstt o hail the dawn of experimental philosophy inphysics ; to gratulate his country on possessingBacon, Harvey, and Boyle and to exult over thed ownfall of the Ar istoteli an tyranny.

l Had helived to see a similar revolution commenced ine thics, there can be little doubt he would havewelcomed it with the same delight ; or had his

I The long est tyranny that ever sway’d,Was thatwhere in ou r ancestors betray’dTheir free-born reason to the S tagyri te,A ndmade his torch their un iversal light.80 tru th,while on ly on ce su ppli ed the state,Grew scarce, and dear, and ye t aophi sticate.

S till i twas bought, like emp ’ricwares, or charms,

Hardwords seal ’d upwith Aristotle's arms."


Nor can there be a doubt, that, as every work of

imagination is tinged with the author’s passions andprejudices, it must be deep and energetic in proportion to the character of these impressions . Thosesuperst itious sciences and pursu its, which would,by mystic rites, doctrines, and inferences, connectus with the invisible world of sp irits, or guide ourd aring researches to a kn owledge of future events,are indeed usually found to cow, crush, and utterlystu pify, understandings of a lower rank ; but if themind of a man of acute powers, and of warm fancy,becomes slightly imbued with the visionary feelingsexcited by such studies, their obscure and undefinedinfluence is ever found to aid the sublimity of hisideas, and to give that sombre and serious effect,which he can never produce, who does not himselffeel the awe which it is his Object to excite. Theinfluence of such a mystic creed is Often felt wherethe cause is concealed ; for the habits thus acquiredare n ot confi ned to their own sphere of belief, bu tgradually extend themselves over every adjacentprovince : and perhaps we may not go too far inbelieving, that he who has felt their impression,though only in on e branch of faith, becomes fitted tod escribe, with an air of reality and interest, not only:kindred subjects, but superstitions altogether oppos ite to his own . The religion, which Dryden finallyadopted, lent its occasional aid to the solemn colouri ng of some of his later productions, upon whichsubj ect we have elsewhere enlarged at some length.

l

1 See the in trodu ction to Bri tann ia Red iv iva, Dryden’

s

Works, vol. x., p . 287.


The oc casional poetry of Dryden is markedstrongi y by masculine character. The Epistlesvary with the subject ; and are light, humorous, andsatirical, or grave, argumentat ive, and philosophical,as the case required. In his Elegies, although theycontain touches of true feeling, especially where thestronger passions are to be illustr ated, the poet isoften content to substitute reasoning for passion,and rather to show us cause why we ought togrieve, than to set us the example by grievinghimself. The inherent defect in Dryden’s compositiou becomes here peculi arly conspicuous ; yet weshould consider, that, in composing elegies for theCountess of A bingdon, whomhe never saw, andfor Charles II., by whom he had been cruellyneglected, and doubtless on many similar occasions,Dryden could not even pretend to be interested inthe mournful subject of his verse ; but attended,with hi s poem, as much in the way of trade, as theundertaker, on the same Occasion, came with hissables and his scutcheon . The poet may interesthimself and his reader, even to tears, in the fate ofa being altogether the creation of his own fancy,but hardly by a hired panegyric on a real su bject,in whom his heart acknowledges no other interestthan a fee can give him . Few of Dryden’s elegiaceffusions, therefore, seem prompted by sincere sorrow. That to Oldham may be an exception but,even there, he rather str ives to do honour to thetalents of his departed friend, than to pour ou t

lamentations for his loss. Of the Prologues and


Epilogues we have spoken fully elsewhere. ‘ Someof themare coarsely satirical, and others grossly

The col lect ion of these pieces is far frombeing th eleast valu able part of our au thor’s labou rs . The variety an dr ichn ess of fan cy wh ich they ind icate, i s on e of Dryden ’smost remarkable poetical attribu tes . Whether the theme be,the you th and in exper ience, or the age an d past services, of

the au thor ; the plain n ess ormagn ificen ce of a n ewtheatre ;the su per iori ty of anc ien t au thors, or the exal tation of th emod ern s ; th e cen su re of pol i t ical faction , or of fash ion ablefoll i es ; the praise of the mon arch , or the rid icu le of theadmin i stration ; the poet n ever fails to treat i t wi th the l ivel in ess appropriate to verses in tended to be spoken , an d spokenbefore a n umerou s assembly. The man n er which Drydenassumes , varies al so wi th the n atu re of h is aud ience . The

prologu es and epi logu es in ten ded for the London stage,are wri tten in a ton e of superiori ty, as if the poet, con sciou sof the j u stice of h is own laws of cri ticism, rather imposedthem u pon the pu bl ic as absolu te and u n den iable, than asstan d ing in n eed of their ratification . A nd if he sometimescon descen ds to sol ic i t, in amore humble style, the approbat ionof the au d ien ce, and to state circumstan ces of apology, an dp leas of favou r, i t is on ly in the case of other poets ; for, in thep rologu es of h is own plays, he always rather demand s thanbegs their applau se ; and if he ackn owledges anydefects in th ep iece, he takes care to in timate, that they are in trodu ced incompl i an ce wi th the evi l taste of the age ; an d that the au d ien cemu st take blame to themselves, in stead of throwing i tu pon the wri ter. Th is bold style of address, al though i t occas ionally drew u pon th e au thor the charge of presumption ,was, n evertheless, sowel l su pported by h is perception ofwhatwas ju st in cri t ic ism, an d his powers of defend ing even whatwas actuallywrong, that a ‘mi scellan eou s aud ien ce was, ingen eral, fain to su bmi t to a domin ation as su ccessfu l ly supported as bold ly claimed. In the Oxford prologu es, on theo ther han d , the au d ien ce furn i shed by that seat of the Bl u ses,as of more competen t j udgmen t, are addressed wi th morerespec tfu l deferen ce by the poet. He seems, in these, to layd own h is rules of cri t icism, as i t were u nder correct ion of

434 LIFE o r JOHN DRYDEN.

The Translations ofDryden form a di stingui shedpart of his poet ical labours . N0 author, except ingPope, has done so much to endenizen the eminentpoets of antiqu ity. In this sphere also, it was thefate of Dryden to become a leading example tofuture poets, and to abrogate laws which had beengenerally received, although they imposed sucht rammels on translation as to render it hardly intelligible. Before his distinguished success showedthat the object of the translator should be to transfuse the spirit, n ot to copy servilely the very wordsof his original, it had been required, that line shouldbe rendered for line, and, almost, word for word.

It may easily be imagined, that, by the constraintand inversion which this cramping statute required,a poem was barely rendered not L atin , instead of

being made English, and that, to the mere nativereader, as the conno isseur complains in TheCrit ic,

” the interpreterwas sometimes the harderto be understood of the two.

” Those who seekexamples,may find them in the jaw- breaking translat ions of Ben Jonson and Holyday. Cowley andDenham had indeed rebelled against this mode oftranslation, which conveys pretty much the sameidea of an original, as an imitator would do of thegait of another, by studiously stepping after himinto every trace which his feet had left upon thesand. Bu t they assumed a license equally faulty,and claimed the privilege of writing what mightbe more properly t ermed imitations, than versionsof the classics. It was reserved to Dryden manfully to claim and vindicate the fr eedom of a just

L I FE OF JOHN DRYDEN. 435

translation ; more limited than paraphrase, but freefrom the metaphrastic severity exacted from his

predecessors . ‘

W ith these free, yet unlicentious principles, Dryd en brought to the task of translation a competentknowledge of the langu age of the originals, withan unbounded command of his own. The latter

1 L“Drydenmay be con sidered as the first popu lar attempteri n Engl i sh of the systemof free tran slation , as i t i s supposedt o be recommen ded by Horace ; we say supp osed to be, becau sewe do n ot th ink that h is words admi t the wide in feren ceswh ich have been drawn fromthem; an d What i smu ch moreimportan t, Ben Jon son , the tran slator of h is A rt of Poetry,’d id n ot ; an d W ell j ust ified in h is own pract ice h is d ifferen topin ion of Horace’s mean ing. Even Dryden , however, hadas strict theoretical n ot ion s of the du t ies of a tran slator as hecould en tertain who wou ld followh is au thor

Non ita certan di cu pidu s quampropter amorem.’

A tran slator,’ says he, ‘ i s to be l ike h is au thor : i t i s n oth is bu s in ess to excel him.

’Th iswas h is theory ; bu t thou gh

hemay occas ion al ly catch th e graces of his au thor, (besidesexhibit ing‘

many rare qu al i ti es of h is own ,) can he be said to resemble the poetwhomhe tran slates,when he ren ders Horace’s

sr ce leres qu at i t

Pennas, resign o qua dedzt, ’

Bu t if she dances in the wi nd,A nd shake her W i ngs, and wrll not stay,Ip aj

'

the prosti tu te away ,

’

recol lect ing always that Horace i s speak ing of a recogn i sedan d severe dei ty or, when d esign ating the priests of Cybeleas clumsy clergymen , does he con vey to u s Juven al

’

s pictu re ofthose pain ted,mitred, an d efl

'

eminate fan at ics ? Does h e n otrather conj u re u p a vision ofportly gen tlemen in blackworstedstockings, th ick shoes, an d shove l hats ? A n d yet howfu lli s every tran slation by him,

even h is noble JEn eid , of fau ltssu ch as these, produ ced partly by the ambition of excellinghis orig in al , an d partly by his in du lg ing in the v iciou s u seof equ ivalen ts.” Quarterly Review, Jun e,

436 L I FE or JOHN DRYDEN.

is, however, by far the most marked characteristi cOf his Translations . Dryden was not indeeddeficient in Greek and Roman learning ; but hepaused not to weigh and sift those difficult andObscure passages, at which the most learned willdoubt and hesitat e for the correct meaning. Thesame rapidity which marked his own poetry, seemsto have attended his study of the classics. Heseldom waited to analyze the sentence he wasabout to render, far less scrupulously to weigh the

precise purport and value of every word it contained. If he caught the general spirit andmeaning of the author, and could express it withequal force in English verse, he cared not if minuteelegances were lost, or the beauties of accurateproportion destroyed, or a dubious interpretationhastily adopted on the credit of a scholium. Heused abundantly the license he has claimed fora translator, to be deficient rather in the languageout of which he renders, than that into which hetranslates . If su ch be but master of the sense of

his author, Dryden argues, he may express thatsense with eloquence in his own tongue, thoughhe understand not the nice turns of the original.But without the latter quality he can ne ver

arrive at the useful and the delightful, withoutwhich reading is a penance and fatigue.”1 Withthe same spirit of haste, Dryden is often contentedto present to the English reader some modernimage, whi ch he may at once fully comprehend,

L ife of Lu cian, Dryden’sWorks, vol. xvii i ., p. 81.


than three distinct eras,— that in which the scenei s laid, that in which the poem was written, andthat, finally, in which the translationwas executed.

There are passages in Dryden’s ZEneid, which , inthe revolu tion of a few pages, transport ou r ideasfrom the t ime of Troy’s siege to that of the courtOf A ugustus , and thence downward to the reign ofW illiam the Third of Britain.

It must be owned, at the same time, that whenthe translator places before you , not the exactwords, but the image of the original, as the classicau thor would probably have himself expressed it inEnglish, the license, when moderately employed,has an infin ite charm for those readers for whoseuse translations are properlywritten. Pope’s Ho

mer and Dryden’s Virgil can never indeed giveexqui site sat isfaction to scholars, accustomed to

study the Greek and Latin origin als . The mindsof such readers have acquired a classic tone andn ot merely the ideas and poetical imagery, but themanners and habits of the actors, have becomeintimately familiar to them. They will not, therefore, be satisfied with any translation in which theseare violated, whether for the sake of indolence inthe translator, or ease to the unlettered reader ;and perhaps they will be more pleased that afavour ite bard should move with less ease and spiritin his new habilirn en ts, than that his garmentsshould be cut upon the model of the country towhich the stranger is introduced. In the formercas e, they will readily make allowance for the im<

perfection of modern language in the latter, they


will hardly pardon the sophistication of ancientmanners . But the mere English reader, who findsrigid adherence to antique costume rather embarrassing than pleasing, who is prepared to make nosacrifices in order to preserve the true manners ofantiquity, shocking perhaps to his feelings andprejudices, is satisfied that the Iliad and fEneid

shall lose their antiquarian merit, prov ided theyretain that vital spir it and energy,which is the soulof poetry in all languages, and countries, and ageswhatsoever . Hewho sits down to Dryden’s translation of Virgil,with the original text spread beforehim, will be at n o loss to point ou t many passagesthat are faulty,many indifl

'

eren tlyunderstood,manyimperfectly translated, some in which dignity islost, others in whi ch bombast is substituted in itsstead . But the unabated vigour and spirit of theversion more than overbalances these and all itsother deficiencies . A sedulous scholar might oft enapproach more nearly to the dead letter of Virgil,and give an exact, distinct, sober-minded idea of

the meaning and scope of particular passages.Trapp, Pitt, and others have done so . But theessential spirit of poetry is so volatile, that it escapesdur ing such an operation, like the life of the poorcriminal, whom the ancient anatomist is said to havedissected alive, in order to ascertain the seat ofthe soul. The carcass indeed is presented to theEnglish reader, but the animating vigour is no

more. It is in this art, of commu nicating theancient poet’s ideas with force and energy equal tohis own, that Dryden has so completely surpassed


all who have gone before, and all who have succeeded him. The beau t iful and unequalled versionof the Tale of Myrrha in the “Metamorphoses,

”

the whole of the Sixth ZEn eid, and many otherparts of Dryden’s translat ions, are suffi cient, hadhe never written one line of original poe try, tovindicate the well -hmown panegyric of Chu rchill :

Here let me ben d , great Dryden , at thy shrin e,Thou deares t n ame to all the tu n efu l Nin e !What if some du l l l in es in co ld order creep,A n d wi th h is theme th e poet seems to sleepS t ill, when h is subj ect ri ses prou d to view,

W i th equ al strength the poet r i ses tooW i th strong in ven t ion , n oblest v igour frau gh t,Thou gh t stil l springs u p, an d ri ses ou t of thought ;Numbers enn obl ing n umbers in the cou rse

,

In varied sweetn ess flow, in varied forceThe powers of gen i u s an d i udgmen t join ,A n d the whole ar t of po etry i s th in e.”

We are in this disquisition naturally tempted toenquire, whether Dryden would have succeeded inhis proposed design to translate Homer, as happilyas in his Virgil ? A nd although he himself hasdeclared the genius of the Grecian to be more fiery,and therefore better suited to his own than that ofthe Roman poet, there may be room to question,whether in this case, he rightly estimated his owntalents, or rather, whether, be ing fully conscious oftheir extent, he was aware of labouring un der certain deficiencies of taste, which must have beenmore apparent in a version of the Iliad than of theE neid. If a translator has any characteristic and

peculiar fo ible, it is surely unfortunate to choose anoriginal, who may give peculiar facilities to exhibit

442 L I FE OF JOHN DRYDEN.

passages in his translations,where the transgressionis on his own part altogether gratui tous. Such isthe wellknown version of

Ut p ossessor agclh’

D iceret, hazemea su nt, veteresmigrate coloni,Nun c vieti,” Q‘ c.

When the gr imcaptain , with a su rly ton e,Cries ou t, Pack u p, ye rascals, an d be gon eK ick

’

d ou t, we set the best face on ’

t we cou ld,”

In translating the most indelicate passage of

Lucretius, Dryden has rather enhanced than veiledits indecency. The story of Iphis in the Metamorphoses is much more bluntly told by the Englishpoet than by Ov id . In short, where there was alatitude given for coarseness of description andexpression, Dryden has always too readily laidhold of it. The very specimenwhich he has givenus of a version of Homer, contains many passagesin which the antique Grecian simplicity is vulgarlyand inelegantly rendered . The Thunderer termsJuno

My hou sehold cu rse,my lawfu l plagu e, the spyOf Jove’s design s, h is other squ in ting eye.”

The ambrosial feast of Olympus concludes likea tavern revel

Drunken at last, and drowsy, they departEach to h is hou se, adorn ’

d wi th labou r’d artOf the lame arch itect . The thu n dering God,Even he,wi thdrewto rest, and had h is loadH is swimming head to n eedfu l sleep appl ied,A nd Jun o lay u n heeded by h is side.

There is reason indeed to think, that, after theRevolution, Dryden

’s taste was improved in this,

LIFE OF JOHN n nvnEN. 443

as in some other respects . In his translation ofJuvenal, for example, the satire against women,coarse as it is, is considerably refined and softenedfrom the grossness of the Lat in poet ; who has ,however, been lately favoured by a st ill more elegant, and (except ing perhaps on e or two passages)an equally spirited translat ion, by lVIr Gifford of

London . Yet, admitting this apology for Dryden .

as fully as we dare, from the numerous specimensof indelicacy even in his later translat ions, we are .

induced to judge it fortunate that Homer wasreserved for a poet who had n ot known the age ofCharles I I . ; and whose inaccuracies and injudiciou s decorations may be pardoned, even by thescholar, when he considers the probability, thatDryden might have slipped into the oppositeext reme, by converting ru de simplicity into in

decency or vulgar ity. The xiEneid, on the otherhand, if it restrained Dryden

’s poetry to a correct,steady, and even flight, if it damped his energy

.

by its regularity, and fettered his excu rsive ima

ginat ion by the sobriety of its decorum, had the

corresponding advantage of holding forth to thetranslator no temptation to license, and no apologyfor negligence. Where the fervency of genius isrequired, Dryden has usually equ alled his original ;where pecu liar elegance and exact propriety are

demanded, hi s version may be sometimes foun dflat and inaccurate, but the mastering spirit of

Virgil prevails, and it is never disgusting or indelicate . Of all the classical translations we can

boast, none is so acceptable to the class of readers,


to whom the learned langu ages are a clasped bookand a sealed fountain . A nd surely it is no mod erate praise to say, that a work is universally pleasingto those for whose use it is principally intended,d to whom only it is absolutely indispensable.The prose of Dryden may rank with the best

in the English language. It is no less of his ownformat ion than his versificat ion , is equally spirited,and equally harmonious . W ithout the lengthenedand pedaa sentences of Clarendon, it is dign ifiedwhere dignity is becoming, and is lively withoutthe accumulation of strained and absurd allusionsand met aphors, whi ch were unfortunately mistakenfor wit by many of the author’s contemporar ies .Dryden has been accused of unn ecessarily lardinghis style with Gallicisms . It must be owned, that,to comply probably with the humour of Charles,or from an afi

'

ectation of the fashionable courtdialect, the poet laureat employed such words asfougue,fra iche ur, &c ., instead of the correspondingexpre ssions in English ; an alfectation which doesnot appear in our author’s laterwritings. But eventhe learned and excellent S ir David Dalrymple wasled to carry this idea greatly too far.Nothing,” says that admirable an t iqu ary, d i st ingu i shes

the gen iu s of the Engl ish langu age so mu ch as i ts gen eraln atu ral iz at ion of foreign ers . Dryden , in the reign of CharlesIL , pr in ted the following word s as pu re Fren ch n ewly imported : amour, bi llet- dour , cap rice, chagrin , conversation , doubleentendre, embarrassed,fat igue,figu re,foible, gallan t, good graces,grimace, in cendiary, leve

’e, ma ltreated, rallied, rep arte'e, ridicule,

tender, tour with several o thers which are n ow con sideredas nat ives. Marr i age a- la-Mod e. ’ l

1 Poems fromthe Bannatyn e Manuscript, p. 228.


v igorou s ; what is l i ttle is gay,what i s great is splend id. Hemay be though t to men t ion h imself too frequ en tly ; bu t wh il ehe forces h imself u pon ou r esteem,we can n ot refu se himto

stan d h igh in h i s own . Every th ing is excu sed by the play ofimages and the sprightl in ess of expression . Though all i s easy,n oth ing i s feeble ; though all seems careless, there i s n oth ingharsh ; and though , since h is earl ier works,more than a centu ry has passed , they have n oth ing yet u n cou th or obsolete .

He,who wr i tesmu ch,wi ll n o t easi ly escape amann er, su ch a recurren ce of particu lar mod es as may be eas ilyn oted . D ryden i s always another and the same. He does n otexhibi t a second t ime the same elegan c ies in the same form,

n or appears to have any art other than that of express ingwi thclearn ess what he th inks wi th vigou r. H is style could n ot

eas i ly be imi tated, ei ther seriou sly or lu d icrously for, beingalways equ able an d always varied , i t has n o prominen t or discriminat ive characters. The beau ty,who i s totally free fromd i sproportion of parts and featu res, can not be r id icu led by anovercharged resemblance .

The last paragraph is not to be understood tooliterally ; for although Dryden never so far copiedhimself as to fall intowhat has been qu aintly calledmann er ism yet accurate observation may trace inhis works, the repetition of some sentiments andillustrations from prose to verse, and back again toprose. l In hi s preface to the ZEneid, he has en

The remarkable phrase, to possess the sou l in pat ience,occu rs in the H in d an d Pan ther ; ” and in the Essay on

S atire, D ryden ’s Works, vol. x i i i ., p. 80, we have n early thesame expression . The image of a bird’swing flagging in adamp atmosphere, occu rs in Don Sebastian , and in prose elsewhere, though Ihave lost the reference. The same though ti s fou n d in the H in d an d Pan ther,” bu t i s not there u sedmetaphorically

Nor need they fear the dampness of the skyShou ld flag theirwings, and h inder themto fly.

D ryden i s r id icu led by an imi tator of Rabelais, for the recurrence of the phrase by wh ich he u sually prefaces his own de

LIFE or JOHN DRYDEN.2147

larged on the diffi culty of varying phrases, whenthe same sense returned on the author ; and surelywe must allow full praise to his fluency and command of language, when, dur ing so long a li teraryc areer, and in the course Of su ch a variety of miscellan eou s productions,we can detect in his style sofew instances of repetition, or self- imitation.

The prose of Dryden, excepting his translations,and one or two controversial tracts, is entirelydedi cated to criticism, either general and didactic,o r defensive and exculpatory. There, as in otherbranches of polite learning, it was his lot to be alight to his people. A bou t the time of the Restoration, the cult ivation of letters was prosecu ted inFrance with some energy. Bu t the genius of thatlively nation bei ng more fitted for criticism thanpoetry ; for drawing rules from what others havedone, than forwritingworks which might be themselves standards theywere sooner able to producean accurate table of laws for those intending towrite epic poems and tragedies, according to the

fen sive cri t ici sm. If it be allowedme to sp eak somu ch in myown commendation ;—see D ryden ’s preface to h is Fables, or

any other of h is works that you please .” The fu l l t i tle ofth is wh imsical tract, fromwh ich S tern e borrowed severalhin ts, iIs A n Essay towards the theory of the in tell ig ibleworld in tu i t ively con sidered . Design ed for forty- n in e parts.Part Third, con si st ing of a preface, a postscr ipt, an d a l itt lesometh ing between , by Gabriel John son ; enr iched by a fai thful accou n t of his ideal voyages, an d i llu strated with poemsby several han ds, as l ikewise wi th o ther strange th ings n oti n su fi

‘

erably clever, n or fur iou sly to the purpose ; prin ted in"the year 17, Sec.

”


best Greek and Roman authorities, than to exhibitd ist inguished specimens of success in either department just as they are said to possess the best possible rules for bu ilding ships of war, although not

equally remarkable for their power offighting them.

When criticism becomes a pursuit separate frompoetry, those who follow it are apt to forget, thatthe legitimate ends of the art for which they layd own rules, are instruction or delight, an d thatthese points being attained, by what road soever,entitles a poet to claim the prize of successful merit.Neither did the learned authors of these disqu isitions sufiicien tly attend to the general disposit ionof mankind, which can not be contented even withthe happiest imitations of former excellence, butdemands novelty as a necessary ingredient foramusement. To insist that every epic poem shallhave the plan of the Iliad and ZEneid, and everytragedy be fettered by the rules of Ar istotle,resembles the principle of an architect,who shouldbuild all his houses with the same number of windows, and of stories . It happened, too, inevitably,that the critics in the plenipotential au thoritywhichthey exercised, Often assumed as indispensablerequisites of the drama, or epopeia, circumstances,which, in the great authori ties they quoted, werealtogether accidental and indifferent. These theyerected into laws, and handed down as essentialsto be observed by all succeeding poets ; althoughthe forms prescribed have Often as little to do

with the merit and success of the origi nal s from


has drawn Of our English dramatists in the Essay,

and the various prefaces connected with it, haveunequalled spirit and precis ion. The contrast ofBen Jonson with Shakspeare is peculiarly andstrikingly felicitous . Of the latter portrait, DrJohnson has said, that the editors and admirers ofShakspeare, in all their emulation of reverence,cannot boast of much more than of having diffusedand paraphrased this epitome of excellence, of

having changed Dryden’s gold for baser metal, of

lower value, though of greater bulk While Dryden examined, discussed, admitted, or rejected therules proposed by others, he forbore, from pru dence,indolence , or a regard for the freedom of Parnassus,to erect himself into a legislator. His doctrines,which chiefly respect the intrinsic qualities n ecessary in poetry, are scattered, without system or

pretence to it, over the numerous pages of prefatory and didactic essays, with which he enrichedhi s publications . It is impossible to read far inany of them,without finding some maxim for doingor forbear ing, whi ch every student of poetry willdo well to engrave upon the tablets Of hi s memory.

But the author’s mode of instruction is neither harshn or dictatorial . When his Opinion changed, as inthe case of rhyming tragedies, he avows the changewith candour, and we are enabled the more cou

rageously to follow his guidance, when we perceivethe readiness with which he retraces his path, if hestrays into error. The gleams of philosophicalspirit which so frequently illumine these pages of

criticism ; the lively and appropriate grace of illus

LIFE or JOHN DRYDEN. 45 1

tration ; the true and correct expression of thegeneral propositions the simple and unaffectedpassages, in which, when led to allude to his personal labours and situation, he mingles the feelingsof the man with the instru ctions of the critic,un ite to render Dryden’s Essays the most delightful prose in the English language.The didactic criticismof Dryden is necessarily,

at least naturally, mingled with that which he wasobliged to pour forth in his own defence ; and thismay be one main cause of its irregular andmiscellan eou s form. What might otherwise have re

sembled the extended and elevated front Of a regularpalace, is deformed by barriers, ramparts, and hast ions of defence ; by cottages, mean additions, andoflices necessary for personal accommodation. Thepoet, always most in earnest about his immediatet ask, used, without ceremony, those argumentswhich suited his present purpose, and thereby sometimes supplied his foeswithweapons to assail anotherquarter. It also happens frequently, if the sameallus ion may be continued, that Dryden defendswith obstinate despair, against the assaults of hisfoemen, a postwhi ch, in his cooler moments, he hascondemned as untenable . However eas ily he may

yield to internal conviction, and to the progress ofhis own improving taste, even these concessions, hesedulously informs us, are not wrung from him bythe assault of his enemies ; and he often goes outof his road to show, that, though conscious he wasin the wrong, he did not stand legally convicted bytheir arguments. To the chequered and inconsist

452 LI FE OF JOHN DRYDEN'

.

ent appearance which these circumstances havegiven to the cr iticism of Dryden, it is an additionalObjection, that through the same cause his studieswere partial, temporary, and irregular . His mindwas amply storedwith acquired knowledge, - muchof it perhaps the fruits of early reading and appli

cation . Bu t, while engaged in the hur ry Of composition, or overcome by the lassitude of continuedliterary labour, he seems frequently to have tru stedto the tenacity of his memory, and so drawn uponthis fund with injudicious liberal ity, without beingsufliciently anxiou s as to accuracy of quotation, oreven of assertion. If, on the other hand, he felthimself obliged to resort to more profound learningthan his own , he was at little pains to arrange ordigest it, or even to examine minutely the information he acquired, from hasty perusal of the bookshe consulted ; and thus but too often poured it forthin the crude form in which he had himself receivedit, from the French criti c, or Dutch schoolman .

The scholarship, for example,displayed in the Essayon Satire, has this raw and ill - arranged appearance ;and stuck, as it awkwardly is, among some of Dryden’s own beautiful and original writing, gives, likea borrowed and unbecoming garment, a mean andinconsistent appearance to the whole disquisition.

But these occasional imperfections and inaccuraciesare marks of the haste with which Dryden wascompelled to give his productions to the world, andcannot deprive him of the praise due to the earliestand most entertaining of English critics.

Miscellaneous Prose Works - Forgotten Books

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