VOLUME III.

Contains the

LIVES

OF

Denham Killegrew Howard Behn, Aphra Etherege Mountford Shadwell Killegrew, William, Howard Flecknoe Dryden Sedley Crowne Sackville, E. Dorset Farquhar Ravenscroft Philips, John Walsh Betterton Banks Chudley, Lady Creech Maynwaring Monk, the Hon. Mrs. Browne Tom. Pomfret King Sprat, Bishop Montague, E. Hallifax Wycherley Tate Garth Rowe Sheffield, D. Buck. Cotton Additon Winshelsea, Anne Gildon D'Urfey Settle

THE

LIVES

OF THE

POETS.

* * * * *

Sir JOHN DENHAM.

An eminent poet of the 17th century, was the only son of Sir John Denham, knight, of Little Horsley in Essex, and sometime baron of the Exchequer in Ireland, and one of the lords justices of that kingdom. He was born in Dublin, in the year 1615[1]; but was brought over from thence very young, on his father's being made one of the barons of the Exchequer in England 1617.

He received his education, in grammar learning, in London; and in Michaelmas term 1631 he was entered a gentleman commoner in Trinity College, Oxford, being then 16 years of age; where, as Wood expresses it, 'being looked upon as a slow dreaming young man, and more addicted to gaming than study, they could never imagine he could ever enrich the world with the issue of his brain, as he afterwards did.'

He remained three years at the university, and having been examined at the public schools, for the degree of bachelor of arts, he entered himself in Lincoln's-Inn, where he was generally thought to apply himself pretty closely to the study of the common law. But notwithstanding his application to study, and all the efforts he was capable of making, such was his propensity to gaining, that he was often stript of all his money; and his father severely chiding him, and threatening to abandon him if he did not reform, he wrote a little essay against that vice, and presented it to his father, to convince him of his resolution against it[2]. But no sooner did his father die, than being unrestrained by paternal authority, he reassumed the practice, and soon squandered away several thousand pounds.

In the latter end of the year 1641 he published a tragedy called the Sophy, which was greatly admired, and gave Mr. Waller occasion to say of our author, 'That he broke out like the Irish rebellion, threescore thousand strong, when no body was aware, nor in the Ieast expected it.' Soon after this he was pricked for high sheriff for the county of Surry, and made governor of Farnham-Castle for the King; but not being well skilled in military affairs, he soon quitted that post and retired to his Majesty at Oxford, where he published an excellent poem called Cooper's-hill, often reprinted before and since the restoration, with considerable alterations; it has been universally admired by all good judges, and was translated into Latin verse, by Mr. Moses Pengry of Oxford.

Mr. Dryden speaking of this piece, in his dedication of his Rival Ladies, says, that it is a poem, which, for the Majesty of the stile, will ever be the exact standard of good writing, and the noble author of an essay on human life, bestows upon it the most lavish encomium[3]. But of all the evidences in its favour, none is of greater authority, or more beautiful, than the following of Mr. Pope, in his Windsor Forest.

Ye sacred nine, that all my soul possess, Whose raptures fire me, and whose visions bless; Bear me, O bear me, to sequester'd scenes, The bow'ry mazes, and surrounding greens; To Thames's bank which fragrant breezes fill, Or where the muses sport on Cooper's-hill. (On Cooper's hill eternal wreaths shall grow, While lasts the mountain, or while Thames shall flow.) I seem thro' consecrated walks to rove, I hear soft music die along the grove, Led by the found, I roam from shade to shade, By god-like poets venerable made: Here his last lays majestic Denham sung, There the last numbers flow'd from Cowley's tongue.

In the year 1647 he was entrusted by the Queen with a message to the King, then in the hands of the army, and employed in other affairs, relating to, his Majesty. In his dedication of his poems to Charles II. he observes, that after the delivery of the person of his royal father into the hands of the army, he undertook for the Queen-mother, to get access to his Majesty, which he did by means of Hugh Peters; and upon this occasion, the King discoursed with him without reserve upon the state of his affairs. At his departure from Hampton-court, says he, 'The King commanded me to stay privately in London, to send to him and receive from him all his letters, from and to all his correspondents, at home and abroad, and I was furnished with nine several cyphers in order to it. Which I trust I performed with great safety to the persons with whom we corresponded; but about nine months after being discovered by their knowledge of Mr. Cowley's hand, I happily escaped both for myself and those who held correspondence with me.'

In April 1648 he conveyed away James duke of York, then under the tuition of Algernon earl of Northumberland, from St. James's, and carried him into France, to the prince of Wales and Queenmother. This circumstance is related by Wood, but Clarendon, who is a higher authority, says, that the duke went off with colonel Bamfield only, who contrived the means of his escape. Not long after, he was sent embassador to the King of Poland, in conjunction with lord Crofts, to whom he addresses a poem written on their journey; from whence he brought ten thousand pounds for his Majesty, by the decimation of his Scottish subjects there.

About the year 1652, he returned into England, and was well received by the earl of Pembroke at Wilton, and continued with that nobleman about a year; for his own fortune by the expence he was at during the civil war, and his unconquerable itch of gaming was quite exhausted. From that year to the restoration, there are no accounts of our author; but as soon as his Majesty returned, he entered upon the office of surveyor of his Majesty's buildings, in the room of Inigo Jones, deceased; and at the coronation of King Charles II. was created a knight of the Bath. Upon some discontent arising from his second marriage he lost his senses, but soon recovering from that disorder, he continued in great esteem at court for his poetical writings. In the dedication of his poems to King Charles II. he tells us that he had been discouraged by King Charles I. from writing verses.

'One morning (says he) when I was waiting upon the King at Causham, smiling upon me, he said he could tell me some news of myself, which was that he had seen some verses of mine the evening before (being those to Sir Robert Fanshaw) and asking me when I made them, I told him two or three years since; he was pleased to say, that having never seen them before, he was afraid I had written them since my return into England; and though he liked them well he would advise me to write no more: alledging, that when men are young, and having little else to do, they might vent the over-flowings of their fancy that way, but when they were thought fit for more serious employments, if they still persisted in that course, it would look as if they minded not the way to any better; whereupon I stood corrected as long as I had the honour to wait upon him.' This is a strong instance of his duty to the King; but no great compliment to his Majesty's taste: nor was the public much obliged to the Monarch for this admonition to our author.

But King Charles II being of an humour more sprightly than his father, was a professed encourager of poetry, and in his time a race of wits sprung up, unequalled by those of any other reign.

This monarch was particularly delighted with the poetry of our author, especially when he had the happiness to wait upon him, in Holland and Flanders; and he was pleased sometimes to give him arguments to write upon, and divert the evil hours of their banishment, which now and then, Sir John tells us, he acquitted himself not much short of his Majesty's expectation.

In the year 1688 Sir John Denham died, at his office in Whitehall, and was interred in Westminster-Abbey, near the tombs of Chaucer, Spenser, and Cowley.

Our author's works are,

1. Cooper's-hill, of which we have already taken some notice.

2. The Destruction of Troy, an Essay on the second book of Virgil's Æneis, written 1636.

3. On the Earl of Strafford's Trial and Death.

4. On my Lord Crofts's Journey into Poland.

5. On Mr. Thomas Killegrew's return from Venice; and Mr. William Murrey's from Scotland.

6. To Sir John Mennis, being invited from Calais to Bologne to eat a pig.

7. Natura Naturata.

8. Sarpedon's Speech to Glaucus, in the twelfth book of Homer.

9. Out of an Epigram of Martial.

10. Friendship and Single Life, against Love and Marriage.

11. On Mr. Abraham Cowley's Death and Burial.

12. A Speech against Peace at the Close Committee.

13. To the Five Members of the honourable House of Commons: The humble Petition of the Poets.

14. A Western Wonder.

15. A Second Western Wonder.

16. News from Colchester; or, a proper new Ballad, of certain carnal Passages betwixt a Quaker and a Colt, at Horsley in Essex.

17. A Song.

18. On Mr. John Fletcher's Works.

19. To Sir Richard Fanshaw, on his translation of Pastor Fido.

20. A Dialogue between Sir John Pooley, and Mr. Thomas Killegrew.

21. An occasional Imitation of a modern Author, upon a Game at Chess.

22. The Passion of Dido for Æneas.

23. Of Prudence, of Justice.

24. The Progress of Learning.

25. Cato Major of old Age, a Poem: It is taken from the Latin of Tully, though much alter'd from the original, not only by the change of the stile, but by addition and subtraction. Our author tells us, that intending to translate this piece into prose (where translation ought to be strict) finding the matter very proper for verse, he took the liberty to leave out what was only necessary, to that age and place, and to take or add what was proper to this preset age and occasion, by laying the scene clearer and in fewer words, according to the stile and ear of the times.

26. The Sophy, a Tragedy; the above pieces have been several times printed together, in one volume in 12mo. under the Title of Poems and Translations; with the Sophy, a Tragedy, written by Sir John Denham.

Besides these, Wood mentions a Panegyric on his excellency general Monk 1659, in one sheet quarto. Though Denham's name is not to it, it is generally ascribed to him. A Prologue to his majesty, at the first play represented at the Cock-pit in White-hall, being part of that noble entertainment, which their majesties received, November 19, 1660, from his grace the duke of Albemarle. A new Version of the Psalms of David. The True Presbyterian, without Disguise; or, a Character of a Presbyterian's Ways and Actions, London 1680, in half a sheet in folio. In the year 1666 there were printed by stealth, in octavo, certain Poems, intitled Directions to a Painter, in four copies or parts, each dedicated to King Charles the IId. They were very satyrically written against several persons engaged in the Dutch war, in 1661. At the end of them was a piece entitled Clarendon's Housewarming; and after that his Epitaph, both containing bitter reflexions against that earl. Sir John Denham's name is to these pieces, but they were generally thought to be written by Andrew Marvel, Esq; a Merry Droll in Charles the IId's Parliaments, but so very honest, that when a minister once called at his lodgings, to tamper with him about his vote, he found him in mean apartments up two pair of stairs, and though he was obliged to send out that very morning to borrow a guinea, yet he was not to be corrupted by the minister, but denied him his vote. The printer of these poems being discovered, he was sentenced to stand in the pillory for the same.

We have met with no authors who have given any account of the moral character of Sir John Denham, and as none have mentioned his virtues, so we find no vice imputed to him but that of gaming; to which it appears he was immoderately addicted. If we may judge from his works, he was a good-natur'd man, an easy companion, and in the day of danger and tumult, of unshaken loyalty to the suffering interest of his sovereign. His character as a poet is well known, he has the fairest testimonies in his favour, the voice of the world, and the sanction of the critics; Dryden and Pope praise him, and when these are mentioned, other authorities are superfluous.

We shall select as a specimen of Sir John Denham's Poetry, his Elegy on his much loved and admired friend Mr. Abraham Cowley.

Old mother Wit and nature gave Shakespear, and Fletcher all they have; In Spencer and in Johnson art, Of slower nature, got the start. But both in him so equal are, None knows which bears the happiest share. To him no author was unknown, Yet what he wrote was all his own: He melted not the ancient gold, Nor, with Ben Johnson, did make bold. To plunder all the Roman stores Of poets and of orators. Horace's wit, and Virgil's state, He did not steal, but emulate; And he would like to them appear, Their garb, but not their cloaths did wear. He not from Rome alone but Greece, Like Johnson, brought the golden fleece. And a stiff gale, (as Flaccus sings) The Theban swan extends his wings, When thro' th' æthereal clouds he flies, To the same pitch our swan doth rise: Old Pindar's flights by him new-reach'd, When on that gale, his wings are stretch'd.

[Footnote 1: Ath. Oxon. vol. ii.]

[Footnote 2: Wood.]

[Footnote 3: In the preface to 2d edition, 1736, 4to.]

* * * * *

THOMAS KILLEGREW,

A Gentleman, who was page of honour to king Charles I. and groom of the bed-chamber to king Charles II. with whom he endured twenty-years exile. During his abode beyond sea, he took a view of France, Italy and Spain, and was honoured by his majesty, with the employment of resident at the state of Venice, whither he was sent in August 1651. During his exile abroad, he applied his leisure hours to the study of poetry, and the composition of Several plays, of which Sir John Denham. in a jocular way takes notice, in his copy of verses on our author's return from his embassy from Venice.

I.

Our resident Tom, From Venice is come, And hath left the statesman behind him. Talks at the same pitch, Is as wise, is as rich, And just where you left him, you find him.

II.

But who says he was not, A man of much plot, May repent that false accusation; Having plotted, and penn'd Six plays to attend, The farce of his negotiation.

Killegrew was a man of very great humour, and frequently diverted king Charles II, by his lively spirit of mirth and drollery. He was frequently at court, and had often access to king Charles when admission was denied to the first peers in the realm. Amongst many other merry stories, the following is related of Killegrew. Charles II, who hated business as much as he loved pleasure, would often disappoint the council in vouchsafing his royal presence when they were met, by which their business was necessarily delay'd and many of the council much offended by the disrespect thrown on them: It happened one day while the council were met, and had sat some time in expectation of his majesty, that the duke of Lauderdale, who was a furious ungovernable man, quitted the room in a passion, and accidentally met with Killegrew, to whom he expressed himself irreverently of the king: Killegrew bid his grace be calm, for he would lay a wager of a hundred pounds, that he would make his majesty come to council in less than half an hour. Lauderdale being a little heated, and under the influence of surprize, took him at his word;--Killegrew went to the king, and without ceremony told him what had happened, and added, "I know that your majesty hates Lauderdale, tho' the necessity of your affairs obliges you to behave civilly to him; now if you would get rid of a man you hate, come to the council, for Lauderdale is a man so boundlessly avaricious, that rather than pay the hundred pounds lost in this wager, he will hang himself, and never plague you more." The king was pleased with the archness of this observation, and answered, 'then Killegrew I'll positively go,' which he did.--It is likewise related, that upon the king's suffering his mistresses to gain so great an ascendant over him as to sacrifice for them the interest of the state, and neglect the most important affairs, while, like another Sardanapalus, he wasted his hours in the apartments of those enchantresses: Killegrew went one day into his apartment dress'd like a pilgrim, bent upon a long journey. The king being surprized at this extraordinary frolic, asked him the meaning of it, and to what distant country he was going, to which Killegrew bluntly answered, the country I seek, may it please your majesty, is hell; and what to do there? replies the king? to bring up Oliver Cromwel from thence, returned the wag, to take care of the English affairs, for his successor takes none.--We cannot particularly ascertain the truth of these relations, but we may venture to assert that these are not improbable, when it is considered how much delighted king Charles the IId. was with a joke, however severe, and that there was not at court a more likely person to pass them than Killegrew, who from his long exile with the king, and being about his person, had contracted a kind of familiarity, which the lustre that was thrown round the prince upon his restoration was not sufficient to check.

Tho' Sir John Denham mentions but six, our author wrote nine Plays in his travels, and two at London, amongst which his Don Thomaso, in two parts, and his Parson's Wedding, will always be valued by good judges, and are the best of his performances. The following is a list of his plays.

1. Bellamira's Dream, or Love of Shadows, a Tragi-Comedy; the first part printed in folio 1663, written in Venice, and dedicated to the lady Mary Villiers, duchess of Richmond and Lennox.

2. Bellamira's Dream, the second part, written in Venice; printed in folio, London 1663, and dedicated to the lady Anne Villiers, countess of Essex.

3. Cicilia and Clorinda, or Love in Arms, a Tragi-comedy; the first part printed in folio, London, 1663, written in Turin.

4. Cicilia and Clorinda, the second part, written at Florence 1651, and dedicated to the lady Dorothy Sidney, countess of Sunderland.

5. Claracilla, a Tragi-comedy, printed in folio, London 1663; written at Rome, and dedicated to his sister in-law lady Shannon; on this play and another of the author's called the Prisoners, Mr. Cartwright has written an ingenious copy of verses.

6. The Parson's Wedding, a Comedy, printed in folio, London 1663; written at Basil in Switzerland. This play was revived at the old Theatre, at little Lincoln's Inn-Fields, and acted all by women; a new prologue and epilogue, being spoken by Mrs. Marshal in Man's cloaths, which Mr. Langbain says is printed in the Covent-Garden Drollery. This was a miscellaneous production of those times, which bore some resemblance to our Magazines; but which in all probability is now out of print.

7. The Pilgrim, a Tragedy, printed in folio, London 1663; written in Paris in the year 1651, and dedicated to the countess of Carnarvon.

8. The Princess, or Love at first Sight, a Tragi-Comedy, printed in folio, London 1663; written at Naples, and dedicated to his niece, the lady Anne Wentworth, wife to lord Lovelace.

9. The Prisoners, a Tragi-Comedy, printed in folio; London 1663; written at London and dedicated to the lady Crompton.

10. Don Thomaso, or the Wanderer, a Comedy in two parts, printed in folio, London 1663; and dedicated to the fair and kind friends of prince Palatine Polexander. In the first part of this play, the author has borrowed several ornaments from Fletcher's play called the Captain. He has used great freedom with Ben Johnson, for not only the characters of Lopus, but even the very words are repeated from Johnson's Fox, where Volpone personates Scoto of Mantua. I don't believe that our author designed to conceal his assistance, since he was so just as to acknowledge a song against jealousy, which he borrowed from Mr. Thomas Carew, cup-bearer to king Charles the Ist, and sung in a masque at Whitehall, anno 1633. This Chorus, says he, 'I presume to make use of here, because in the first design it was written at my request, upon a dispute held between Mrs. Cicilia Crofer and myself, when he was present; she being then maid of honour. This I have set down, lest any man should imagine me so foolish as to steal such a poem, from so famous an author.' If he was therefore so scrupulous in committing depredations upon Carew, he would be much more of Ben Johnson, whose fame was so superior to Carew's. All these plays were printed together in one volume in folio, London 1664.

* * * * *

EDWARD HOWARD, _Esq_;

Was descended from the noble family of the earl of Berkshire, and was more illustrious by his birth than his genius; he addicted himself to the study of dramatic poetry, and produced four plays, but gained no reputation by any of them.

1. The Man of New-Market, a Comedy, acted at the Theatre-Royal; and printed in quarto, London 1678.

2. Six Days Adventure, or the New Utopia, a Comedy, acted at his royal highness the duke of York's Theatre, printed in quarto 1671. This play miscarried in the action, as he himself acknowledges in his preface; and the earl of Rochester, with his usual virulence, writ an invective against it; but, Mrs. Behn, Mr. Ravenscroft, and some other poets, taking compassion on him, sent the author recommendatory verses, which are printed before that play, and in return he writ a Pindarique to Mrs. Behn, which she printed in a Collection of Poems 1685.

3. The Usurper, a Tragedy, acted at the Theatre-Royal, and printed 1668, in which the character of Damocles, is said to have been drawn for Oliver Cromwel, and that the play is a parallel of those times.

4. Women's Conquest, a Tragi-Comedy, acted at the Duke's Theatre 1677.

Besides these plays, Mr. Howard has published an Epic Poem in octavo, called the British Princes, which the earl of Rochester likewise handled pretty severely. There is likewise ascribed to him another Book of Poems and Essays, with a Paraphrase on Cicero's Laelius, or Tract of Friendship, printed in 8vo. The Earl of Dorset, who was called by cotemporary writers, the best good man, with the worst natured Muse, has dedicated a few lines to the damnation of this extraordinary epic production of Mr. Howard's.

The Spectator observes, that this epic piece is full of incongruity, or in other words, abounds with nonsense. He quotes the two following lines,

A coat of mail Prince Vortiger had on, Which from a naked pict his grandsire won.

Who does not see the absurdity of winning a coat from a naked man?

The earl of Dorset thus addresses him;

To Mr. EDWARD HOWARD, on his incomparable, incomprehensible POEM called the BRITISH PRINCES.

Come on, ye critics, find one fault who dare, For, read it backward like a witch's prayer, 'Twill do as well; throw not away your jests On solid nonsense that abides all tests. Wit, like tierce-claret, when't begins to pall, Neglected lies, and's of no use at all, But, in its full perfection of decay, Turns vinegar, and comes again in play. Thou hast a brain, such as it is indeed; On what else mould thy worm of fancy feed? Yet in a Filbert I have often known Maggots survive when all the kernel's gone. This simile shall stand, in thy defence, 'Gainst such dull rogues as now and then write sense. Thy style's the same, whatever be thy theme, As some digestion turns all meat to phlegm. He lyes, dear Ned, who says, thy brain it barren, Where deep conceits, like vermin breed in carrion. Thy stumbling founder'd jade can trot as high As any other Pegasus can fly. So the dull Eel moves nimbler in the mud, Than all the swift-finn'd racers of the flood. As skilful divers to the bottom fall, Sooner than those that cannot swim at all, So in the way of writing, without thinking, Thou hast a strange alacrity in sinking. Thou writ'st below ev'n thy own nat'ral parts, And with acquir'd dulness, and new arts Of studied nonsense, tak'st kind readers hearts. Therefore dear Ned, at my advice forbear, Such loud complaints 'gainst critics to prefer, Since thou art turn'd an arrant libeller: Thou sett'st thy name to what thyself do'st write; Did ever libel yet so sharply bite?

* * * * *

Mrs. APHRA BEHN,

A celebrated poetess of the last age, was a gentlewoman by birth, being descended, as her life-writer says, from a good family in the city of Canterbury. She was born in Charles Ist's reign[1], but in what year is not known. Her father's name was Johnson, whose relation to the lord Willoughby engaged him for the advantageous post of lieutenant general of Surinam, and six and thirty islands, to undertake a voyage, with his whole family, to the West-Indies, at which time our poetess was very young. Mr. Johnson died at sea, in his passage thither; but his family arrived at Surinam, a place so delightfully situated, and abounding with such a vast profusion of beauties, that, according to Mrs. Behn's description, nature seems to have joined with art to render it perfectly elegant: her habitation in that country, called St. John's Hill, she has challenged all the gardens in Italy, nay, all the globe of the world, to shew so delightful a recess. It was there our poetess became acquainted with the story and person of the American Prince Oroonoko, whose adventures she has so feelingly and elegantly described in the celebrated Novel of that name, upon which Mr. Southern has built his Tragedy of Oroonoko, part of which is so entertaining and moving, that it is almost too much for nature. Mrs. Behn tells us, that she herself had often seen and conversed with that great man, and been a witness to many of his mighty actions, and that at one time, he, and Imoinda his wife, were scarce an hour in a day from her lodgings; that they eat with her, and that she obliged them in all things she was capable of, entertaining them with the lives of the Romans and great men, which charmed him with her company; while she engaged his wife with teaching her all the pretty works she was mistress of, relating stories of Nuns, and endeavouring to bring her to the knowledge of the true God. This intimacy between Oroonoko and Mrs. Behn occasioned some reflexions on her conduct, from which the authoress of her life, already quoted, justified her in the following manner; 'Here, says she, I can add nothing to what she has given the world already, but a vindication of her from some unjust aspersions I find are insinuated about this town, in relation to that prince. I knew her intimately well, and I believe she would not have concealed any love affair from me, being one of her own sex, whose friendship and secrecy she had experienced, which makes me assure the world that there was no intrigue between that Prince and Astræa. She had a general value for his uncommon virtues, and when he related the story of his woes, she might with the Desdemona of Shakespear, cry out, That it was pitiful, wondrous pitiful, which never can be construed into an amour; besides, his heart was too violently set on the everlasting charms of his Imoinda, to be shook with those more faint (in his eye) of a white beauty; and Astrea's relations there present kept too watchful an eye over her, to permit the frailty of her youth, if that had been powerful enough.' After this lady's return to London, she was married to Mr. Behn, a Merchant there, but of Dutch extraction. This marriage strengthening her interest, and, perhaps, restoring her character, gave her an opportunity of appearing with advantage at court. She gave King Charles II. so accurate and agreeable an account of the colony of Surinam, that he conceived a great opinion of her abilities, and thought her a proper person to be entrusted with the management of some important affairs, during the Dutch war; which occasioned her going into Flanders, and residing at Antwerp. Here, by her political intrigues, she discovered the design formed by the Dutch, of sailing up the river Thames, and burning the English ships in their harbours, which she communicated to the court of England; but her intelligence, though well grounded, as appeared by the event, being only laughed at and slighted, she laid aside all other thoughts of state affairs, and amused herself during her stay at Antwerp with the gallantries in that city. But as we have mentioned that she discovered the design of the Dutch to burn our ships, it would be injustice to the lady, as well as to the reader, not to give some detail of her manner of doing it. She made this discovery by the intervention of a Dutchman, whom her life-writer calls by the name of Vander Albert. As an ambassador, or negociator of her sex could not take the usual means of intelligence; of mixing with the multitude, and bustling in the cabals of statesmen, she fell upon another way, perhaps more efficacious, of working by her eyes. This Vander Albert had been in love with her before her marriage with Mr. Behn, and no sooner heard of her arrival at Antwerp, than he paid her a visit; and after a repetition of his former vows, and ardent professions for her service, pressed her to receive from him some undeniable proofs of the vehemence and sincerity of his passion, for which he would ask no reward, 'till he had by long and faithful services convinced her that he deserved it. This proposal was so suitable to her present aim in the service of her country, that she accepted it, and employed Albert in such a manner, as made her very serviceable to the King. The latter end of the year 1666, he sent her word, by a special messenger, that he would be with her at a day appointed, at which time, he revealed to her, that Cornelius de Wit, who, with the rest of that family, had an implacable hatred to the English nation and the house of Orange, had, with de Ruyter, proposed to the States the expedition abovementioned. This proposal, concurring with the advice which the Dutch spies in England had given them, of the total neglect of all naval preparations, was well received, and was resolved to be put in execution, as a thing neither dangerous nor difficult. Albert having communicated a secret of this importance, and with such marks of truth, that she had no room to doubt of it: as soon as the interview was at an end, she dispatched an account of what she had discovered, to England[2].

But we cannot conclude Mrs. Behn's gallantries at Antwerp, without being a little more particular, as we find her attacked by other lovers, and thought she found means to preserve her innocence, yet the account that she herself gives of her affairs there, is both humorous and entertaining.

In a letter to a friend she proceeds thus, 'My other lover is about twice Albert's age, nay and bulk too, tho' Albert "be not the most Barbary shape you have seen, you must know him by the name of Van Bruin, and he was introduced to me by Albert his kinsman, and was obliged by him to furnish me in his absence, with what money and other things I should please to command, or have occasion for. This old fellow had not visited me often, before I began to be sensible of the influence of my eyes upon this old piece of touchwood; but he had not the confidence to tell me he loved me, and modesty you know is no common fault of his countrymen. He often insinuated that he knew a man of wealth and substance, though striken indeed in years, and on that account not so agreeable as a younger man, was passionately in love with me, and desired to know whether my heart was so far engaged, that his friend should not entertain, any hopes. I replied that I was surprized to hear a friend of Albert's making an interest in me for another, and that if love were a passion, I was any way sensible of, it could never be for an old man, and much to that purpose. But all this would not do, in a day or two I received this eloquent epistle from him." Here Mrs. Behn inserts a translation of Van Bruin's letter, which was wrote in French, and in a most ridiculous stile, telling her, he had often strove to reveal to her the tempests of his heart, and with his own mouth scale the walls of her affections; but terrified with the strength of her fortifications, he concluded to make more regular approaches, to attack her at a farther distance, and try first what a bombardment of letters would do; whether these carcasses of love thrown into the sconces of her eyes, would break into the midst of her breast, beat down the out-guard of her aversion, and blow up the magazine of her cruelty, that she might be brought to a capitulation, and yield upon, reasonable terms. He then considers her as a goodly ship under sail for the Indies; her hair is the pennants, her fore-head the prow, her eyes the guns, her nose the rudder. He wishes he could once see her keel above water, and desires to be her pilot, to steer thro' the Cape of Good-Hope, to the Indies of love.

Our ingenious poetess sent him a suitable answer to this truly ridiculous and Dutchman like epistle. She rallies him for setting out in so unprofitable a voyage as love, and humorously reckons up the expences of the voyage; as ribbons, and hoods for her pennants, diamond rings, lockets, and pearl-necklaces for her guns of offence and defence, silks, holland, lawn, cambric, &c. for her rigging.

Mrs. Behn tells us she diverted herself with Van Bruin in Albert's absence, till he began to assume and grow troublesome to her by his addresses, so that to rid himself of him, she was forced to disclose the whole affair to Albert, who was so enraged that he threatened the death of his rival, but he was pacified by his mistress, and content to upbraid the other for his treachery, and forbid him the house, but this says Mrs. Behn, 'produced a very ridiculous scene, for 'my Nestorian lover would not give ground to Albert, but was as high as he, challenged him to sniker-snee for me, and a thousand things as comical; in short nothing but my positive command could satisfy him, and on that he promised no more to trouble me. Sure as he thought himself of me, he was thunder-struck, when he heard me not only forbid him the house, but ridicule all his addresses to his rival Albert; with a countenance full of despair, he went away not only from my lodgings, but the next day from Antwerp, unable to stay in a place where he had met so dreadful a defeat.'

The authoress of her life has given us a farther account of her affairs with Vander Albert, in which she contrived to preserve her honour, without injuring her gratitude. There was a woman at Antwerp, who had often given Astræa warning of Albert's fickleness and inconstancy, assuring her he never loved after enjoyment, and sometimes changed even before he had that pretence; of which she herself was an instance; Albert having married her, and deserted her on the wedding-night. Our poetess took the opportunity of her acquaintance with this lady to put an honest trick upon her lover, and at the same time do justice to an injured woman. Accordingly she made an appointment with Albert, and contrived that the lady whose name was Catalina, should meet him in her stead. The plot succeeded and Catalina infinitely pleased with the adventure, appointed the next night, and the following, till at last he discovered the cheat, and resolved to gratify both his love and resentment, by enjoying Astæa even against her will. To this purpose he bribed an elderly gentlewoman, whom Mrs. Behn kept out of charity, to put him to bed drest in her night-cloaths in her place, when Astræa was passing the evening in a merchant's house in the town. The merchant's son and his two daughters waited on Astræa home; and to conclude the evening's mirth with a frolick, the young gentleman proposed going to bed to the old woman, and that they should all come in with candles and surprize them together. As it was agreed so they did, but no sooner was the young spark put to bed, but he found himself accosted with ardour, and a man's voice, saying, 'have I now caught thee, thou malicious charmer! now I'll not let thee go till thou hast done me justice for all the wrongs thou hast offered my dealing love.' The rest of the company were extremely surprized to find Albert in Astraea's bed instead of the old woman, and Albert no less surprized to find the young spark instead of Astræa. In the conclusion, the old woman was discarded, and Albert's fury at his disappointment appeased by a promise from Mrs. Behn, of marrying him at his arrival in England; but Albert returning to Holland to make preparations for his voyage to England, died of a Fever at Amsterdam[3]. From this adventure it plainly appears, that the observation of a Dutchman's not being capable to love is false; for both Albert, and the Nestorian wooer, seem to have been warm enough in their addresses.

After passing some time in this manner at Antwerp, she embarked at Dunkirk for England; and in her passage, was near being lost, for the ship being driven on the coast, foundered within sight of land, but by the assistance of boats from the shore, they were all saved; and Mrs. Behn arriving in London, dedicated the rest of her life to pleasure and poetry. Besides publishing three volumes of miscellany poems, she wrote seventeen plays, and some histories and novels. She translated Fontenelle's History of Oracles, and plurality of worlds, to which last she annexed an Essay on Translation, and translated Prose. The Paraphrase of Oenone's, Epistle to Paris, in the English Translation of Ovid's Epistles is Mrs. Behn's; as are the celebrated Love Letters between a Nobleman and his Sister. Her wit gained her the esteem of Mr. Dryden, Mr. Southern, &c. and at the same time the love and addresses of several gentlemen, in particular one, with whom she corresponded under the name of Lycida, who it seems did not return her passion with equal warmth, and with the earnestness and rapture, she imagined her beauty had a right to command.

Mrs. Behn died after a long indisposition, April 16, 1689, and was buried in the cloister of Westminster Abbey. We shall beg leave to exhibit her character, as we find it drawn by some of her cotemporaries, and add a remark of our own. 'Mr. Langbain 'thinks her Memory will be long fresh among all lovers of dramatic poetry, as having been sufficiently eminent, not only for her theatrical performances; but several other pieces both in prose and verse, which gained her an esteem among the wits almost equal to that of the incomparable Orinda, Mrs. Katherine Phillips.'

There are several encomiums on Mrs. Behn prefixed to her lover's watch; among the rest, Mr. Charles Cotton, author of Virgil Travesty, throws in his mite in her praise; though the lines are but poorly writ. But of all her admirers, Mr. Charles Gildon, who was intimately acquainted with our poetess, speaks of her with the highest encomiums.

In his epistle dedicatory to her histories and novels, he thus expresses himself. 'Poetry, the supreme pleasure of the mind, is begot, and born in pleasure, but oppressed and killed with pain. This reflexion ought to raise our admiration of Mrs. Behn, whose genius was of that force, to maintain its gaiety in the midst of disappointments, which a woman of her sense and merit ought never to have met with. But she had a great strength of mind, and command of thought, being able to write in the midst of company, and yet have the share of the conversation: which I saw her do in writing Oroonoko, and other parts of her works, in every part of which you'll find an easy stile and a peculiar happiness of thinking. The passions, that of love especially, she was mistress of, and gave us such nice and tender touches of them, that without her name we might discover the author.' To this character of Mrs. Behn may be very properly added, that given of her by the authoress of her life and memoirs, in these words.

'She was of a generous humane disposition, something passionate, very serviceable to her friends in all that was in her power, and could sooner forgive an injury than do one. She had wit, humour, good-nature and judgment. She was mistress of all the pleasing arts of conversation: She was a woman of sense, and consequently a lover of pleasure. For my