Chapter 4

----His losses That have of late so huddled on his back, Enough to press a royal merchant down.

We are not to imagine the word royal to be a random sounding epithet. It is used with great propriety by the poet, and designed to shew him well acquainted with the history of the people, whom he here brings upon the stage. For when the French and Venetians in the beginning of the thirteenth century, had won Constantinople, the French under the Emperor Henry endeavoured to extend their conquests, in the provinces of the Grecian empire on the Terra firma, while the Venetians being masters of the sea, gave liberty to any subject of the Republic, who would fit out vessels to make themselves masters of the isles of the Archipelago and other maritime places, to enjoy their conquests in sovereignty, only doing homage to the Republic for their several principalities. In pursuance of this licence the Sanudo's, the Justiniani, the Grimaldi, the Summaripa's, and others, all Venetian merchants, erected principalities in the several places of the Archipelago, and thereby became truly, and properly Royal Merchants.

But there are several places which one cannot forbear thinking a translation from classic writers.

In the Tempest Act V. Scene II. Prospero says,

--------I have------ Called forth the mutinous winds And 'twixt the green sea, and the azured vault Set roaring war; to the dread ratling thunder, Have I given fire, and rifted Jove's stout oak, With his own bolt; the strong bas'd promontory, Have I made shake, and by the spurs pluckt up The pine and cedar; graves at my command Have waked their sleepers, op'd and let them forth By my so potent art.

So Medea in Ovid's Metamorphoses,

Stantia concutio cantu freta; nubila pello, Nubilaque induco, ventos abigoque, vocoque; Vivaque faxa sua convulsaque robora terra Et sylvas moveo; jubeoque tremiscere montes, Et mugire solum, manesque exire sepulchris.

But to return to the incidents of his life: Upon his quitting the grammar school, he seems, to have entirely devoted himself to that way of living which his father proposed, and in order to settle in the world after a family manner, thought fit to marry while he was yet very young. His wife was the daughter of one Hatchway, said to have been a substantial Yeoman in the neighbourhood of Stratford. In this kind of domestic obscurity he continued for some time, till by an unhappy instance of misconduct, he was obliged to quit the place of his nativity, and take shelter in London, which luckily proved the occasion of displaying one of the greatest genius's that ever was known in dramatic poetry. He had the misfortune to fall into ill company: Among these were some who made a frequent practice of Deer-stealing, and who engaged him more than once in robbing a park that belonged to Sir Thomas Lucy of Charlecot near Stratford; for which he was prosecuted by that gentleman, as he thought somewhat too severely; and in order to revenge himself of this supposed ill usage, he made a ballad upon him; and tho' this, probably the first essay of his poetry, be lost, yet it is said to have been so very bitter, that it redoubled the prosecution against him to that degree, that he was obliged to leave his business and family for some time, and shelter himself in London. This Sir Thomas Lucy, was, it is said, afterwards ridiculed by Shakespear, under the well known character of Justice Shallow.

It is at this time, and upon this accident, that he is said to have made his first acquaintance in the playhouse. Here I cannot forbear relating a story which Sir William Davenant told Mr. Betterton, who communicated it to Mr. Rowe; Rowe told it Mr. Pope, and Mr. Pope told it to Dr. Newton, the late editor of Milton, and from a gentleman, who heard it from him, 'tis here related.

Concerning Shakespear's first appearance in the playhouse. When he came to London, he was without money and friends, and being a stranger he knew not to whom to apply, nor by what means to support himself.----At that time coaches not being in use, and as gentlemen were accustomed to ride to the playhouse, Shakespear, driven to the last necessity, went to the playhouse door, and pick'd up a little money by taking care of the gentlemens horses who came to the play; he became eminent even in that profession, and was taken notice of for his diligence and skill in it; he had soon more business than he himself could manage, and at last hired boys under him, who were known by the name of Shakespear's boys: Some of the players accidentally conversing with him, found him so acute, and master of so fine a conversation, that struck therewith, they and recommended him to the house, in which he was first admitted in a very low station, but he did not long remain so, for he soon distinguished himself, if not as an extraordinary actor, at least as a fine writer. His name is painted, as the custom was in those times, amongst those of the other players, before some old plays, but without any particular account of what sort of parts he used to play: and Mr. Rowe says, "that tho' he very carefully enquired, he found the top of his performance was the ghost in his own Hamlet." "I should have been much more pleased," continues Rowe, "to have learned from some certain authority which was the first play he writ; it would be without doubt, a pleasure to any man curious in things of this kind, to see and know what was the first essay of a fancy like Shakespear's." The highest date which Rowe has been able to trace, is Romeo and Juliet, in 1597, when the author was thirty-three years old; and Richard II and III the next year, viz. the thirty-fourth of his age. Tho' the order of time in which his several pieces were written be generally uncertain, yet there are passages in some few of them, that seem to fix their dates. So the chorus at the end of the fourth act of Henry V by a compliment very handsomely turned to the Earl of Essex, shews the play to have been written when that Lord was general to the queen in Ireland; and his eulogium upon Queen Elizabeth, and her successor King James in the latter end of his Henry VIII is a proof of that play's being written after the accession of the latter of these two princes to the throne of England. Whatever the particular times of his writing were, the people of the age he lived in, who began to grow wonderfully fond of diversions of this kind, could not but be highly pleased to see a genius arise amongst them, of so pleasurable, so rich a vein, and and so plentifully capable of furnishing their favourite entertainments. Besides the advantage which Shakespear had over all men in the article of wit, he was of a sweet, gentle, amiable disposition, and was a most agreeable companion; so that he became dear to all that knew him, both as a friend and as a poet, and by that means was introduced to the best company, and held conversation with the finest characters of his time. Queen Elizabeth had several of his plays acted before her, and that princess was too quick a discerner, and rewarder of merit, to suffer that of Shakespear to be neglected. It is that maiden princess plainly whom he intends by

----A fair vestal, throned by the West.

Midsummer night dream.

And in the same play he gives us a poetical and lively representation of the Queen of Scots, and the fate she met with,

----Thou rememb'rest Since once I sat upon a promontory, And heard a sea-maid on a dolphin's back, Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath, That the rude sea grew civil at her song, And certain stars shot madly from their spheres, To hear the sea-maid's music.

Queen Elizabeth was so well pleased with the admirable character of Falstaff in the two parts of Henry IV. that she commanded him to continue it in one play more, and to make him in love. This is said to have been the occasion of his writing the Merry Wives of Windsor. How well she was obeyed, the play itself is a proof; and here I cannot help observing, that a poet seldom succeeds in any subject assigned him, so well as that which is his own choice, and where he has the liberty of selecting: Nothing is more certain than that Shakespear has failed in the Merry Wives of Windsor. And tho' that comedy is not without merit, yet it falls short of his other plays in which Falstaff is introduced, and that Knight is not half so witty in the Merry Wives of Windsor as in Henry IV. The humour is scarcely natural, and does not excite to laughter so much as the other. It appears by the epilogue to Henry IV. that the part of Falstaff was written originally under the name of Oldcastle. Some of that family being then remaining, the Queen was pleased to command him to alter it, upon which he made use of the name of Falstaff. The first offence was indeed avoided, but I am not sure whether the author might not be somewhat to blame in his second choice, since it is certain, that Sir John Falstaff who was a knight of the garter, and a lieutenant-general, was a name of distinguished merit in the wars with France, in Henry V. and Henry VIth's time.

Shakespear, besides the Queen's bounty, was patronized by the Earl of Southampton, famous in the history of that time for his friendship to the unfortunate Earl of Essex. It was to that nobleman he dedicated his poem of Venus and Adonis, and it is reported, that his lordship gave our author a thousand pounds to enable him to go through with a purchase he heard he had a mind to make. A bounty at that time very considerable, as money then was valued: there are few instances of such liberality in our times.

There is no certain account when Shakespear quitted the stage for a private life. Some have thought that Spenser's Thalia in the Tears of the Muses, where she laments the loss of her Willy in the comic scene, relates to our poet's abandoning the stage. But it is well known that Spenser himself died in the year 1598, and five years after this we find Shakespear's name amongst the actors in Ben Johnson's Sejanus, which first made its appearance in the year 1603, nor could he then have any thoughts of retiring, since that very year, a license by King James the first was granted to him, with Burbage, Philipps, Hemmings, Condel, &c. to exercise the art of playing comedies, tragedies, &c. as well at their usual house called the Globe on the other side the water, as in any other parts of the kingdom, during his Majesty's pleasure. This license is printed in Rymer's Fædera; besides it is certain, Shakespear did not write Macbeth till after the accession of James I. which he did as a compliment to him, as he there embraces the doctrine of witches, of which his Majesty was so fond that he wrote a book called Dæmonalogy, in defence of their existence; and likewise at that time began to touch for the Evil, which Shakespear has taken notice of, and paid him a fine turned compliment. So that what Spenser there says, if it relates at all to Shakespear, must hint at some occasional recess which he made for a time.

What particular friendships he contracted with private men, we cannot at this time know, more than that every one who had a true taste for merit, and could distinguish men, had generally a just value and esteem for him. His exceeding candour and good nature must certainly have inclined all the gentler part of the world to love him, as the power of his wit obliged the men of the most refined knowledge and polite learning to admire him. His acquaintance with Ben Johnson began with a remarkable piece of humanity and good nature: Mr. Johnson, who was at that time altogether unknown to the world, had offered one of his plays to the stage, in order to have it acted, and the person into whose hands it was put, after having turned it carelessly over, was just upon returning it to him with an ill-natured answer, that it would be of no service to their company, when Shakespeare luckily cast his eye upon it, and found something so well in it, as to engage him first to read it through, and afterwards to recommend Mr. Johnson and his writings to the public.

The latter part of our author's life was spent in ease and retirement, he had the good fortune to gather an estate, equal to his wants, and in that to his wish, and is said to have spent some years before his death in his native Stratford. His pleasant wit and good nature engaged him in the acquaintance, and entitled him to the friendship, of the gentlemen of the neighbourhood. It is still remembered in that county, that he had a particular intimacy with one Mr. Combe, an old gentleman, noted thereabouts for his wealth and usury. It happened that in a pleasant conversation amongst their common friends, Mr. Combe merrily told Shakespear, that he fancied he intended to write his epitaph, if he happened to out-live him; and since he could not know what might be said of him when dead, he desired it might be done immediately; upon which Shakespear gave him these lines.

Ten in the hundred lyes here engraved, 'Tis a hundred to ten his soul is not saved: If any man asketh who lies in this tomb? Oh! oh! quoth the Devil, 'tis my John-a-Combe.

But the sharpness of the satire is said to have stung the man so severely, that he never forgave it.

Shakespear died in the fifty-third year of his age, and was buried on the North side of the chancel in the great church at Stratford, where a monument is placed on the wall. The following is the inscription on his grave-stone.

Good friend, for Jesus sake forbear, To dig the dust inclosed here. Blest be the man that spares these stones, And curs'd be he that moves my bones. He had three daughters, of whom two lived to be married; Judith the elder to Mr. Thomas Quincy, by whom she had three sons, who all died without children, and Susannah, who was his favourite, to Dr. John Hall, a physician of good reputation in that county. She left one child, a daughter, who was married to Thomas Nash, Esq; and afterwards to Sir John Bernard, of Abington, but deceased likewise without issue.

His dramatic writings were first published together in folio 1623 by some of the actors of the different companies they had been acted in, and perhaps by other servants of the theatre into whose hands copies might have fallen, and since republished by Mr. Rowe, Mr. Pope, Mr. Theobald, Sir Thomas Hanmer, and Mr. Warburton.

Ben Johnson in his discoveries has made a sort of essay towards the character of Shakespear. I shall present it the reader in his own words,

'I remember the players have often mentioned it as an honour to Shakespear, that in writing he never blotted out a line. My answer hath been, would he had blotted out a thousand! which they thought a malevolent speech. I had not told posterity this, but for their ignorance, who chuse that circumstance to commend their friend by, wherein he most faulted; and to justify my own character (for I lov'd the man, and do honour to his memory, on this side idolatry, as much as any). He was indeed honest, and of an open free nature, had an excellent fancy, brave notions, and gentle expressions, wherein he flowed with that facility, that sometimes it was necessary he should be stopp'd. His wit was in his own power: would the rule of it had been so. Many times he fell into those things which could not escape laughter, as when he said in the person of Cæsar, one speaking to him, "Cæsar thou dost me wrong."

He replied, "Cæsar did never wrong, but with just cause;"

'And such like, which were ridiculous; but he redeemed his vices with his virtues; there was ever more in them to be praised, than to be pardoned.' Ben in his conversation with Mr. Drumond of Hawthornden, said, that Shakespear wanted art, and sometimes sense. The truth is, Ben was himself a better critic than poet, and though he was ready at discovering the faults of Shakespear, yet he was not master of such a genius, as to rise to his excellencies; and great as Johnson was, he appears not a little tinctured with envy. Notwithstanding the defects of Shakespear, he is justly elevated above all other dramatic writers. If ever any author deserved the name of original (says Pope) it was he: [1] 'His poetry was inspiration indeed; he is not so much an imitator, as instrument of nature; and it is not so just to say of him that he speaks from her, as that she speaks through him. His characters are so much nature herself, that it is a sort of injury to call them by so distant a name as copies of her. The power over our passions was likewise never possessed in so eminent a degree, or displayed in so many different instances, nor was he more a matter of the great, than of the ridiculous in human nature, nor only excelled in the passions, since he was full as admirable in the coolness of reflection and reasoning: His sentiments are not only in general the most pertinent and judicious upon every subject, but by a talent very peculiar, something between penetration and felicity, he hits upon that particular point, on which the bent of each argument, or the force of each motive depends.'

Our author's plays are to be distinguished only into Comedies and Tragedies. Those which are called Histories, and even some of his Comedies, are really Tragedies, with a mixture of Comedy amongst them. That way of Tragi-comedy was the common mistake of that age, and is indeed become so agreeable to the English taste, that though the severer critics among us cannot bear it, yet the generality of our audiences seem better pleased with it than an exact Tragedy. There is certainly a great deal of entertainment in his comic humours, and a pleasing and well distinguished variety in those characters he thought fit to exhibit with. His images are indeed every where so lively, that the thing he would represent stands full before you, and you possess every part of it; of which this instance is astonishing: it is an image of patience. Speaking of a maid in love, he says,

------She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i'th'bud, Feed on her damask cheek: She pin'd in thought, And sat like patience on a monument. Smiling at grief.

But what is characteristically the talent of Shakespear, and which perhaps is the most excellent part of the drama, is the manners of his persons, in acting and in speaking what is proper for them, and fit to be shewn by the Poet, in making an apparent difference between his characters, and marking every one in the strongest manner.

Poets who have not a little succeeded in writing for the stage, have yet fallen short of their great original in the general power of the drama; none ever found so ready a road to the heart; his tender scenes are inexpressibly moving, and such as are meant to raise terror, are no less alarming; but then Shakespeare does not much shine when he is considered by particular passages; he sometimes debases the noblest images in nature by expressions which are too vulgar for poetry. The ingenious author of the Rambler has observed, that in the invocation of Macbeth, before he proceeds to the murder of Duncan, when he thus expresses himself,

---------Come thick night And veil thee, in the dunnest smoke of hell, Nor heaven peep thro' the blanket of the dark, To cry hold, hold.

That the words dunnest and blanket, which are so common in vulgar mouths, destroy in some manner the grandeur of the image, and were two words of a higher signification, and removed above common use, put in their place, I may challenge poetry itself to furnish an image so noble. Poets of an inferior class, when considered by particular passages, are excellent, but then their ideas are not so great, their drama is not so striking, and it is plain enough that they possess not souls so elevated as Shakespeare's. What can be more beautiful than the flowing enchantments of Rowe; the delicate and tender touches of Otway and Southern, or the melting enthusiasm of Lee and Dryden, but yet none of their pieces have affected the human heart like Shakespeare's.

But I cannot conclude the character of Shakespeare, without taking notice, that besides the suffrage of almost all wits since his time in his favour, he is particularly happy in that of Dryden, who had read and studied him clearly, sometimes borrowed from him, and well knew where his strength lay. In his Prologue to the Tempest altered, he has the following lines;

Shakespear, who taught by none, did first impart, To Fletcher wit, to lab'ring Johnson, art. He, monarch-like gave there his subjects law, And is that nature which they paint and draw; Fletcher reached that, which on his heights did grow, While Johnson crept, and gathered all below: This did his love, and this his mirth digest, One imitates him most, the other best. If they have since outwrit all other men, 'Tis from the drops which fell from Shakespear's pen. The storm[2] which vanished on the neighb'ring shore Was taught by Shakespear's Tempest first to roar. That innocence and beauty which did smile In Fletcher, grew in this Inchanted Isle. But Shakespear's magic could not copied be, Within that circle none durst walk but he.

The plays of this great author, which are forty-three in number, are as follows,

1. The Tempest, a Comedy acted in the Black Fryars with applause.

2. The Two Gentlemen of Verona, a Comedy writ at the command of Queen Elizabeth.

3. The first and second part of King Henry IV the character of Falstaff in these plays is justly esteemed a master-piece; in the second part is the coronation of King Henry V. These are founded upon English Chronicles.

4. The Merry Wives of Windsor, a Comedy, written at the command of Queen Elizabeth.

5. Measure for Measure, a Comedy; the plot of this play is taken from Cynthio Ciralni.

6. The Comedy of Errors, founded upon Plautus's Mænechmi.

7. Much Ado About Nothing, a Comedy; for the plot see Ariosto's Orlando Furioso.

8. Love's Labour Lost, a Comedy.

9. Midsummer's Night's Dream, a Comedy.

10. The Merchant of Venice, a Tragi-Comedy.

11. As you Like it, a Comedy.

12. The Taming of a Shrew, a Comedy.

13. All's Well that Ends Well.

14. The Twelfth-Night, or What you Will, a Comedy. In this play there is something singularly ridiculous in the fantastical steward Malvolio; part of the plot taken from Plautus's Mænechmi.

15. The Winter's Tale, a Tragi-Comedy; for the plot of this play consult Dorastus and Faunia.

16. The Life and Death of King John, an historical play.

17. The Life and Death of King Richard II. a Tragedy.

18. The Life of King Henry V. an historical play.

19. The First Part of King Henry VI. an historical play.

20. The Second Part of King Henry VI. with the death of the good Duke Humphrey.

21. The Third Part of King Henry VI. with the death of the Duke of York. These plays contain the whole reign of this monarch.

22. The Life and Death of Richard III. with the landing of the Earl of Richmond, and the battle of Bosworth field. In this part Mr. Garrick was first distinguished.

23. The famous history of the Life of King Henry VIII.

24. Troilus and Cressida, a Tragedy; the plot from Chaucer.

25. Coriolanus, a Tragedy; the story from the Roman History.

26. Titus Andronicus, a Tragedy.

27. Romeo and Juliet, a Tragedy; the plot from Bandello's Novels. This is perhaps one of the most affecting plays of Shakespear: it was not long since acted fourteen nights together at both houses, at the same time, and it was a few years before revived and acted twelve nights with applause at the little theatre in the Hay market.

28. Timon of Athens, a Tragedy; the plot from Lucian's Dialogues.

29. Julius Cæsar, a Tragedy.

30. The Tragedy of Macbeth; the plot from Buchanan, and other Scotch writers.

31. Hamlet Prince of Denmark, a Tragedy.

32. King Lear, a Tragedy; for the plot see Leland, Monmouth.

33. Othello the Moor of Venice, a Tragedy; the plot from Cynthio's Novels.

34. Anthony and Cleopatra; the story from Plutarch.

35. Cymbeline, a Tragedy; the plot from Boccace's Novels.

36. Pericles Prince of Tyre, an historical play.

37. The London Prodigal, a Comedy.

38. The Life and Death of Thomas Lord Cromwell, the favourite of King Henry VIII.

39. The History of Sir John Oldcastle, the good Lord Cobham, a Tragedy. See Fox's Book of Martyrs.

40. The Puritan, or the Widow of Watling-street, a Comedy.

41. A Yorkshire Tragedy; this is rather an Interlude than a Tragedy, being very short, and not divided into Acts.

42. The Tragedy of Locrine, the eldest son of King Brutus. See the story in Milton's History of England.

Our age, which demonstrates its taste in nothing so truly and justly as in the admiration it pays to the works of Shakespear, has had the honour of raising a monument for him in Westminster Abbey; to effect which, the Tragedy of Julius Cæsar was acted at the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane, April 28, 1738, and the profits arising from it deposited in the hands of the earl of Burlington, Mr. Pope, Dr. Mead, and others, in order to be laid out upon the said monument. A new Prologue and Epilogue were spoken on that occasion; the Prologue was written by Benjamin Martyn esquire; the Epilogue by the hon. James Noel esquire, and spoke by Mrs. Porter. On Shakespear's monument there is a noble epitaph, taken from his own Tempest, and is excellently appropriated to him; with this let us close his life, only with this observation, that his works will never be forgot, 'till that epitaph is fulfilled.--When

The cloud capt towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself And all which it inherit shall dissolve, And like the baseless fabric of a vision Leave not a wreck behind.

[Footnote 1: Preface to Shakespear]

[Footnote 2: Alluding to the sea voyage of Fletcher.]

* * * * *

JOSHUA SYLVESTER,

The translator of the famous Du Bartas's Weeks and Works; was cotemporary with George Chapman, and flourished in the end of Elizabeth and King James's reign; he was called by the poets in his time, the silver-tongu'd Sylvester, but it is doubtful whether he received any academical education. In his early years he is reported to have been a merchant adventurer.[1] Queen Elizabeth is said to have had a respect for him, her successor still a greater, and Prince Henry greater than his father; the prince so valued our bard, that he made him his first Poet-Pensioner. He was not more celebrated for his poetry, than his extraordinary private virtues, his sobriety and sincere attachment to the duties of religion. He was also remarkable for his fortitude and resolution in combating adversity: we are further told that he was perfectly acquainted with the French, Italian, Latin, Dutch and Spanish languages. And it is related of him, that by endeavouring to correct the vices of the times with too much asperity, he exposed himself to the resentment of those in power, who signified their displeasure, to the mortification and trouble of the author. Our poet gained more reputation by the translation of Du Bartas, than by any of his own compositions. Besides his Weeks and Works, he translated several other productions of that author, namely, Eden[2], the Deceit, the Furies, the Handicrafts, the Ark, Babylon, the Colonies, the Columns, the Fathers, Jonas, Urania, Triumph of Faith, Miracle of Peace, the Vocation, the Daw; the Captains, the Trophies, the Magnificence, &c. also a Paradox of Odes de la Nove, Baron of Teligni with the Quadrians of Pibeac; all which translations were generally well received; but for his own works, which were bound up with them, they received not, says Winstanley, so general an approbation, as may be seen by these verses:

We know thou dost well, As a translator But where things require A genius and fire,

Not kindled before by others pains, As often thou hast wanted brains.

In the year 1618 this author died at Middleburgh in Zealand, aged 55 years, and had the following epitaph made on him by his great admirer John Vicars beforementioned, but we do not find that it was put upon his tomb-stone.

Here lies (death's too rich prize) the corpse interr'd Of Joshua Sylvester Du Bartas Pier; A man of arts best parts, to God, man, dear; In foremost rank of poets best preferr'd.

[Footnote 1: Athenæ Oxon. p. 594.]

[Footnote 2: Winstanley, Lives of the Poets, p. 109.]

* * * * *

SAMUEL DANIEL

Was the son of a music master, and born near Taunton in Somersetshire, in the year 1562. In 1579 he was admitted a commoner in Magdalen Hall in Oxford, where he remained about three years, and by the assistance of an excellent tutor, made a very great proficiency in academical learning; but his genius inclining him more to studies of a gayer and softer kind, he quitted the University, and applied himself to history and poetry. His own merit, added to the recommendation of his brother in law, (John Florio, so well known for his Italian Dictionary) procured him the patronage of Queen Anne, the consort of King James I. who was pleased to confer on him the honour of being one of the Grooms of the Privy-Chamber, which enabled him to rent a house near London, where privately he composed many of his dramatic pieces. He was tutor to Lady Ann Clifford, and on the death of the great Spenser, he was appointed Poet Laureat to Queen Elizabeth. Towards the end of his life he retired to a farm which he had at Beckington near Philips Norton in Somersetshire, where after some time spent in the service of the Muses, and in religious contemplation, he died in the year 1619. He left no issue by his wife Justina, to whom he was married several years. Wood says, that in the wall over his grave there is this inscription;

Here lies expecting the second coming of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, the dead body of Samuel Daniel esquire, that excellent poet and historian, who was tutor to Lady Ann Clifford in her youth, she that was daughter and heir to George Clifford earl of Cumberland; who in gratitude to him erected this monument to his memory a long time after, when she was Countess Dowager of Pembroke, Dorset and Montgomery. He died in October, Anno 1619.

Mr. Daniel's poetical works, consisting of dramatic and other pieces, are as follow;

1. The Complaint of Rosamond.

2. A Letter from Octavia to Marcus Antonius, 8vo. 1611.

These two pieces resemble each other, both in subject and stile, being written in the Ovidian manner, with great tenderness and variety of passion. The measure is Stanzas of seven lines. Let the following specimen shew the harmony and delicacy of his numbers, where he makes Rosamond speak of beauty in as expressive a manner as description can reach.

Ah! beauty Syren, fair inchanting good, Sweet silent rhetoric of persuading eyes; Dumb eloquence whose power doth move the blood, More than the words or wisdom of the wife; Still harmony whose diapason lies, Within a brow; the key which passions move, To ravish sense, and play a world in love.

3. Hymen's Triumph, a Pastoral Tragi-Comedy presented at the Queen's Court in the Strand, at her Majesty's entertainment of the King, at the nuptials of lord Roxborough, London, 1623, 4to. It is introduced by a pretty contrived Prologue by way of dialogue, in which Hymen is opposed by avarice, envy and jealousy; in this piece our author sometimes touches the passions with a very delicate hand.

4. The Queen's Arcadia, a Pastoral Tragi-Comedy, presented before her Majesty by the university of Oxford, London 1623, 4to.

5. The Vision of the Twelve Goddesses, presented in a Masque the 8th of January at Hampton-Court, by the Queen's most excellent Majesty and her Ladies. London 1604, 8vo. and 1623, 4to. It is dedicated to the Lady Lucy, countess of Bedford. His design under the shapes, and in the persons of the Twelve Goddesses, was to shadow out the blessings which the nation enjoyed, under the peaceful reign of King James I. By Juno was represented Power; by Pallas Wisdom and Defence; by Venus, Love and Amity; by Vesta, Religion; by Diana, Chastity; by Proserpine, Riches; by Macaria, Felicity; by Concordia, the Union of Hearts; by Astræa, Justice; by Flora, the Beauties of the Earth; by Ceres, Plenty; and by Tathys, Naval Power.

6. The Tragedy of Philotas, 1611, 8vo. it is dedicated to the Prince, afterwards King Charles I.

This play met with some opposition, because it was reported that the character of Philotas was drawn for the unfortunate earl of Essex, which obliged the author to vindicate himself from this charge, in an apology printed at the end of the play; both this play, and that of Cleopatra, are written after the manner of the ancients, with a chorus between each act.

7. The History of the Civil Wars between the Houses of York and Lancaster, a Poem in eight books, London, 1604, in 8vo. and 1623, 4to. with his picture before it.

8. A Funeral Poem on the Death of the Earl of Devonshire, London, 1603, 4to.

9. A Panegyric Congratulatory, delivered to the King at Burleigh-Harrington in Rutlandshire, 1604 and 1623, 4to.

10. Epistles to various great Personages in Verse, London, 1601 and 1623, 4to.

11. The Passion of a Distressed Man, who being on a tempest on the sea, and having in his boat two women (of whom he loved the one who disdained him, and scorned the other who loved him) was, by command of Neptune, to cast out one of them to appease the rage of the tempest, but which was referred to his own choice. If the reader is curious to know the determination of this man's choice, it is summed up in the concluding line of the poem.

She must be cast away, that would not save.

12. Musophilus, a Defence of Learning; written dialogue-wise, addressed to Sir Fulk Greville.

13. Various Sonnets to Delia, 57 in number.

14. An Ode. 15. A Pastoral. 16. A Description of Beauty. 17. To the Angel Spirit of Sir Philip Sidney. 18. A Defence of Rhime. All these pieces are published together in two volumes, 12 mo. under the title of the poetical pieces of Mr. Samuel Daniel.

But however well qualified our author's genius was for poetry, yet Langbain is of opinion that his history is the crown of all his works. It was printed about the year 1613, and dedicated to Queen Anne. It reaches from the state of Britain under the Romans, to the beginning of the reign of Richard II. His history has received encomiums from various hands, as well as his poetry: It was continued by John Trusul, with like brevity and candour, but not with equal elegance, 'till the reign of Richard III. A.D. 1484. Mr. Daniel lived respected by men of worth and fashion, he passed through life without tasting many of the vicissitudes of fortune; he seems to have been a second rate genius, and a tolerable versifier; his poetry in some places is tender, but want of fire is his characteristical fault. He was unhappy in the choice of his subject of a civil war for a poem, which obliged him to descend to minute descriptions, and nothing merely narrative can properly be touched in poetry, which demands flights of the imagination and bold images.

* * * * *

Sir JOHN HARRINGTON,

Born at Kelston near the city of Bath, was the son of John Harrington esquire, who was imprisoned in the Tower in the reign of Queen Mary, for holding a correspondence with the Lady Elizabeth; with whom he was in great favour after her accession to the crown, and received many testimonies of her bounty and gratitude. Sir John, our author, had the honour to be her god-son, and both in respect to his father's merit, and his own, he was so happy to possess her esteem to the last[1]. He had the rudiments of his education at Eaton; thence removing to Cambridge, he there commenced master of arts, and before he arrived at his 30th year, he favoured the world with a translation of the Orlando Furioso of Ariosto, by which he acquired some reputation. After this work, he composed four books of epigrams, which in those times were received with great applause; several of these mention another humorous piece of his called Misacmos Metatmorphosis, which for a while exposed him to her Majesty's resentment, yet he was afterwards received into favour. This (says Mrs. Cooper) is not added to the rest of his works, and therefore she supposes was only meant for a Court amusement, not the entertainment of the public, or the increase of his fame. In the reign of King James I. he was created Knight of the Bath[2], and presented a manuscript to Prince Henry, called a Brief View of the State of the Church of England, as it stood in Queen Elizabeth and King James's reign in the year 1608. This piece was levelled chiefly against the married bishops, and was intended only for the private use of his Highness, but was some years afterwards published by one of Sir John's grandsons, and occasioned much displeasure from the clergy, who did not fail to recollect that his conduct was of a piece with his doctrines, as he, together with Robert earl of Leicester, supported Sir Walter Raleigh in his suit to Queen Elizabeth for the manor of Banwell, belonging to the bishopric of Bath and Wells, on the presumption that the right reverend incumbent had incurred a Premunire, by marrying a second wife.

Sir John appears to be a gentleman of great pleasantry and humour; his fortune was easy, the court his element, and which is ever an advantage to an author, wit was not his business, but diversion: 'Tis not to be doubted, but his translation of Ariosto was published after Spenser's Fairy Queen, and yet both in language and numbers it is much inferior, as much as it is reasonable to suppose the genius of Harrington was below that of Spenser.

Mrs. Cooper remarks, that the whole poem of Orlando is a tedious medley of unnatural characters, and improbable events, and that the author's patron, Cardinal Hippolito De Este, had some reason for that severe question. Where the devil, Signior Ludovico, did you pick up all these damned lies? The genius of Ariosto seems infinitely more fit for satire than heroic poetry; and some are of opinion, that had Harrington wrote nothing but epigrams, he had been more in his own way.

We cannot certainly fix the time that Sir John died, but it is reasonable to suppose that it was about the middle, or rather towards the latter end of James I's reign. I shall subjoin an epigram of his as a specimen of his poetry.

IN CORNUTUM.

What curl'd pate youth is he that sitteth there, So near thy wife, and whispers in her eare, And takes her hand in his, and soft doth wring her. Sliding his ring still up and down her finger? Sir, 'tis a proctor, seen in both the lawes, Retain'd by her in some important cause; Prompt and discreet both in his speech and action, And doth her business with great satisfaction. And think'st thou so? a horn-plague on thy head! Art thou so-like a fool, and wittol led, To think he doth the bus'ness of thy wife? He doth thy bus'ness, I dare lay my life.

[Footnote 1: Muses Library, p. 296.]

[Footnote 2: Ubi supra.]

* * * * *

THOMAS DECKER,

A poet who lived in the reign of King James I. and as he was cotemporary with Ben Johnson, so he became more eminent by having a quarrel with that great man, than by all his works. Decker was but an indifferent poet, yet even in those days he wanted not his admirers; he had also friends among the poets; one of whom, Mr. Richard Brome, always called him Father; but it is the misfortune of little wits, that their admirers are as inconsiderable as themselves, for Brome's applauses confer no great honour on those who enjoy them. Our author joined with Webster in writing three plays, and with Rowley and Ford in another; and Langbaine asserts, that these plays in which he only contributed a part, far exceed those of his own composition. He has been concerned in eleven plays, eight whereof are of his own writing, of all which I shall give an account in their alphabetical order.

I. Fortunatus, a comedy, printed originally in 4to but with what success, or when acted, I cannot gain any account.

II. Honest Whore, the first part; a comedy, with the humours of the Patient Man, and the Longing Wife, acted by the Queen's Servants, 1635.

III. Honest Whore, the second part, a comedy; with the humours of the Patient Man, the Impatient Wife; the Honest Whore persuaded by strong arguments to turn Courtezan again; her refusing those arguments, and lastly the comical passage of an Italian bridewel, where the scene ends. Printed in 4to, London 1630. This play Langbaine thinks was never exhibited, neither is it divided into acts.

IV. If this be not a good play the devil is in it; a comedy, acted with great applause by the Queen's majesty's servants, at the Red-Bull, and dedicated to the actors. The beginning of this play seems to be writ in imitation of Machiavel's novel of Belphegor, where Pluto summons the Devils to council.

Match me in London, a Tragi-Comedy, often presented, first at the Bull's head in St. John's-street, and then at a private house in Drury-lane, called the Phoenix, printed in 4to. in 1631.

VI. Northward Ho, a comedy, often acted by the children of Paul's, printed in 4to. London, 1607. This play was writ by our author and John Webster.

VII. Satyromastix, or the untrussing the humourous poet, a comical satire, presented publickly by the Lord Chamberlain's servants, and privately by the children of Paul's, printed in 4to, 1602, and dedicated to the world. This play was writ on the occasion of Ben Johnson's Poetaster, for some account of which see the Life of Johnson.

VIII. Westward Ho,[1] a comedy, often acted by the children of Paul's, and printed in 4to. 1607; written by our author and Mr. Webster.

IX. Whore of Babylon, an history acted by the prince's servants, and printed in 4to. London 1607. The design of this play, by feigned names, is to set forth the admirable virtues of queen Elizabeth; and the dangers she escaped by the happy discovery of those designs against her sacred person by the Jesuits and bigotted Papists.

X. Wyatt's History, a play said to be writ by him and Webster, and printed in 4to. The subject of this play is Sir Thomas Wyat of Kent, who made an insurrection in the first year of Queen Mary, to prevent her match with Philip of Spain.

Besides these plays he joined with Rowley and Ford in a play called, The Witch of Edmonton, of which see Rowley.

There are four other plays ascribed to our author, in which he is said by Mr. Phillips and Winstanley to be an associate with John Webster, viz. Noble Stranger; New Trick to cheat the Devil; Weakest goes to the Wall; Woman will have her Will; in all which Langbaine asserts they are mistaken, for the first was written by Lewis Sharp, and the other by anonymous authors.

[Footnote 1: This was revived in the year 1751, at Drury-lane theatre on the Lord Mayor's day, in the room of the London Cuckolds, which is now discontinued at that house.]

* * * * *

BEAUMONT and FLETCHER

Were two famous dramatists in the reign of James I. These two friends were so closely united as authors, and are so jointly concerned in the applauses and censures bestowed upon their plays, that it cannot be thought improper to connect their lives under one article.

Mr. FRANCIS BEAUMONT

Was descended from the ancient family of his name, seated at Grace dieu in Leicestershire,[1] and was born about the year 1585 in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. His grandfather, John Beaumont, was Master of the Rolls, and his father Francis Beaumont, one of the Judges of the Common Pleas. Our poet had his education at Cambridge,[2]but of what college we are not informed, nor is it very material to know. We find him afterwards admitted a student in the Inner-Temple, but we have no account of his making any proficiency in the law, which is a circumstance attending almost all the poets who were bred to that profession, which few men of sprightly genius care to be confined to. Before he was thirty years of age he died, in 1615, and was buried the ninth of the same month in the entrance of St. Benedictine's Chapel, within St. Peter's Westminster. We meet with no inscription on his tomb, but there are two epitaphs writ on him, one by his elder brother Sir John Beaumont, and the other by Bishop Corbet. That by his brother is pretty enough, and is as follows:

On Death, thy murderer, this revenge I take: I slight his terror, and just question make, Which of us two the best precedence have, Mine to this wretched world, thine to the grave. Thou should'st have followed me, but Death to blame Miscounted years, and measured age by fame. So dearly hast thou bought thy precious lines; Thy praise grew swiftly, so thy life declines. Thy muse, the hearer's queen, the reader's love All ears, all hearts, but Death's could please and move.

Our poet left behind him one daughter, Mrs. Frances Beaumont, who lived to a great age and, died in Leicestershire since the year 1700. She had been possessed of several poems of her father's writing, but they were lost at sea in her voyage from Ireland, where she had lived sometime in the Duke of Ormond's family. Besides the plays in which Beaumont was jointly concerned with Fletcher, he writ a little dramatic piece entitled, A Masque of Grays Inn Gentlemen, and the Inner-Temple; a poetical epistle to Ben Johnson; verses to his friend Mr. John Fletcher, upon his faithful Shepherd, and other poem's printed together in 1653, 8vo. That pastoral which was written by Fletcher alone, having met with but an indifferent reception, Beaumont addressed the following copy of verses to him on that occasion, in which he represents the hazard of writing for the stage, and satirizes the audience for want of judgment, which, in order to shew his versification I shall insert.

Why should the man, whose wit ne'er had a stain, Upon the public stage present his vein, And make a thousand men in judgment sit To call in question his undoubted wit, Scarce two of which can understand the laws, Which they should judge by, nor the party's cause. Among the rout there is not one that hath, In his own censure an explicit faith. One company, knowing thy judgment Jack, Ground their belief on the next man in black; Others on him that makes signs and is mute, Some like, as he does, in the fairest sute; He as his mistress doth, and me by chance: Nor want there those, who, as the boy doth dance Between the acts will censure the whole play; Some, if the wax lights be not new that day: But multitudes there are, whose judgment goes Headlong, according to the actors clothes.

Mr. Beaumont was esteemed so accurate a judge of plays, that Ben Johnson, while he lived, submitted all his writings to his censures; and it is thought, used his judgment in correcting, if not contriving most of his plots.

[Footnote 1: Jacob's Lives of the Poets.]

[Footnote 2: Wood.]

* * * * *

Mr. JOHN FLETCHER

Was son of Dr. Richard Fletcher, Lord Bishop of London, and was born in Northamptonshire in the year 1576. He was educated at Cambridge, probably at Burnet-college, to which his father was by his last will and testament a benefactor[1]. He wrote plays jointly with Mr. Beaumont, and Wood says he assisted Ben Johnson in a Comedy called The Widow. After Beaumont's death, it is said he consulted Mr. James Shirley in forming the plots of several of his plays, but which those were we have no means of discovering. The editor of Beaumont and Fletcher's plays in 1711 thinks it very probable that Shirley supplied many that were left imperfect, and that the players gave some remains of Fletcher's for Shirley to make up; and it is from hence (he says) that in the first act of Love's Pilgrimage, there is a scene of an ostler transcribed verbatim out of Ben Johnson's New Inn, Act I. Scene I. which play was written long after Fletcher died, and transplanted into Love's Pilgrimage, after printing the New Inn, which was in the year 1630, and two of the plays printed under Fletcher's name. The Coronation and The Little Thief have been claimed by Shirley as his; it is probable they were left imperfect by the one, and finished by the other. Mr. Fletcher died of the plague in the forty ninth year of his age, the first of King Charles I. An. 1625, and was buried in St. Mary Overy's Church in Southwark.

Beaumont and Fletcher, as has been observed, wrote plays in concert, but what share each bore in forming the plots, writing the scenes, &c. is unknown. The general opinion is, that Beaumont's judgment was usually employed in correcting and retrenching the superfluities of Fletcher's wit, whose fault was, as Mr. Cartwright expresses it, to do too much; but if Winstanley may be credited, the former had his share likewise in the drama, for that author relates, that our poets meeting once at a tavern in order to form the rude draught of a tragedy, Fletcher undertook to kill the king, which words being overheard by a waiter, he was officious enough, in order to recommend himself, to lodge an information against them: but their loyalty being unquestioned, and the relation of the circumstance probable, that the vengeance was only aimed at a theatrical monarch, the affair ended in a jest.

The first play which brought them into esteem, as Dryden says, was Philaster, or Love lies a Bleeding; for, before that, they had written two or three very unsuccessfully, as the like is reported of Ben Johnson before he writ Every Man in his Humour. These authors had with the advantage of the wit of Shakespear, which was their precedent, great natural gifts improved by study. Their plots are allowed generally more regular than Shakespear's; they touch the tender passions, and excite love in a very moving manner; their faults, notwithstanding Beaumont's castigation, consist in a certain luxuriance, and stretching their speeches to an immoderate length;[2] however, it must be owned their wit is great, their language suited to the passions they raise, and the age in which they lived is a sufficient apology for their defects. Mr. Dryden tells us, in his Essay on Dramatic Poetry, that Beaumont and Fletcher's plays in his time were the most pleasing and frequent entertainments of the stage, two of theirs being acted through the year for one of Shakespear's or Johnson's; and the reason he assigns is, because there is a certain gaiety in their comedies, and a pathos in their most serious plays which suits generally with all men's humours; but however it might be when Dryden writ, the case is now reversed, for Beaumont and Fletcher's plays are not acted above once a season, while one of Shakespear's is represented almost every third night. It may seem strange, that wits of the first magnitude should not be so much honoured in the age in which they live, as by posterity;[3] it is now fashionable to be in raptures with Shakespear; editions are multiplied upon editions, and men of the greatest genius have employed all their power in illustrating his beauties, which ever grow upon the reader, and gain ground upon perusal. These noble authors have received incense of praise from the highest pens; they were loved and esteemed by their cotemporaries, who have not failed to demonstrate their respect by various copies of verses at different times, and upon different occasions, addressed to them, the insertion of which would exceed the bounds proposed for this work. I shall only observe, that amongst the illustrious names of their admirers, are Denham, Waller, Cartwright, Ben Johnson, Sir John Berkenhead, and Dryden himself, a name more than equal to all the rest. But the works of our authors have not escaped the censure of critics, especially Mr. Rhymer the historiographer, who was really a man of wit and judgment, but somewhat ill natured; for he has laboured to expose the faults, without taking any notice of the beauties of Rollo Duke of Normandy, the King and No King, and the Maids Tragedy, in a piece of his called The Tragedies of the Last Age considered, and examined by the practice of the ancients, and by the common sense of all ages, in a letter to Fleetwood Shepherd esquire. Mr. Rymer sent one of his books as a present to Mr. Dryden, who in the blank leaves before the beginning, and after the end of the book, made several remarks, as if he intended to publish an answer to that critic, and his opinion of the work was this[4]; "My judgment (says he) of this piece, is, that it is extremely learned, but the author seems better acquainted with the Greek, than the English poets; that all writers ought to study this critic as the best account I have seen of the ancients; that the model of tragedy he has here given is extremely correct, but that it is not the only model of tragedy, because it is too much circumscribed in the plot, characters, &c. And lastly, that we may be taught here justly to admire and imitate the ancients, without giving them the preference, with this author, in prejudice to our own country."

Some of Beaumont and Fletcher's plays were printed in quarto during the lives of their authors; and in the year 1645 twenty years after Fletcher's death, there was published in folio a collection of their plays which had not been printed before, amounting to between thirty and forty. At the beginning of this volume are inserted a great number of commendatory verses, written by the most eminent wits of that age. This collection was published by Mr. Shirley after shutting up the Theatres, and dedicated to the earl of Pembroke by ten of the most famous actors. In 1679 there was an edition of all their plays published in folio. Another edition in 1711 by Tonson in seven volumes 8vo. containing all the verses in praise of the authors, and supplying a large omission of part of the last act of Thierry and Theodoret. There was also another edition in 1751. The plays of our authors are as follow,

1. Beggars Bush, a Comedy, acted with applause.

2. Bonduca, a Tragedy; the plot from Tacitus's Annals, b. xiv. Milton's History of England, b. ii. This play has been twice revived.

3. The Bloody Brother, or Rollo Duke of Normandy, a Tragedy, acted at the Theatre at Dorset-Garden. The plot is taken from Herodian's History, b. iv.

4. Captain, a Comedy.

5. Chances, a Comedy; this was revived by Villiers duke of Buckingham with great applause.

6. The Coronation, a Tragi-Comedy, claimed by Mr. Shirley as his.

7. The Coxcomb, a Comedy.

8. Cupid's Revenge, a Tragedy.

9. The Custom of the Country, a Tragi-Comedy; the plot taken from Malispini's Novels, Dec. 6. Nov. 6.

10. Double Marriage, a Tragedy.

11. The Elder Brother, a Comedy,

13. The Faithful Shepherdess, a Dramatic Pastoral, first acted on a twelfth-night at Somerset House. This was entirely Mr. Fletcher's, and instead of a Prologue was sung a Dialogue, between a priest and a nymph, written by Sir William Davenant, and the Epilogue was spoken by the Lady Mordant, but met with no success.

13. The Fair Maid of the Inn, a Comedy; part of this play is taken from Causin's Holy Court, and Wanley's History of Man.

14. The False One; a Tragedy, founded on the Adventures of Julius Cæsar in Egypt, and his amours with Cleopatra.

15. Four Plays in One, or Moral Representations, containing the triumphs of honour, love, death and time, from Boccace's Novels.

16. The Honest Man's Fortune, a Tragi-Comedy; the plot from Heywood's History of Warner.

17. The Humourous Lieutenant, a Tragi-Comedy, still acted with applause.

18. The Island Princess, a Tragi-Comedy, revived in 1687 by Mr. Tate.

19. A King and No King, a Tragi-Comedy, acted with applause.

20. The Knight of the Burning Pestle, a Comedy, revived also with a Prologue spoken by the famous Nell Gwyn.

21. The Knight of Malta, a Tragi-comedy.

22. The Laws of Candy, a Tragi-Comedy.

23. The Little French Lawyer, a Comedy; the plot from Gusman, or the Spanish Rogue.

24. Love's Cure, or the Martial Maid, a Comedy.

25. The Lover's Pilgrimage, a Comedy; the plot is taken from a novel called the Two Damsels, and some incidents from Ben Jonson's New Inn.

26. The Lovers Progress, a Tragi-Comedy; built on a French romance called Lysander and Calista.

27. The Loyal Subject, a Comedy.

28. The Mad Lover, a Tragi-Comedy.

29. The Maid in the Mill, a Comedy. This was revised and acted on the duke of York's Theatre.

30. The Maid's Tragedy; a play always acted with the greatest applause, but some part of it displeasing Charles II, it was for a time forbid to be acted in that reign, till it was revived by Mr. Waller, who entirely altering the last act, it was brought on the stage again with universal applause.

31. A Masque of Grays Inn Gentlemen, presented at the marriage of the Princess Elizabeth and the Prince Palatine of the Rhine, in the Banqueting House at Whitehall. This piece was written by Mr. Beaumont alone.

32. Monsieur Thomas, a Comedy. This play has been since acted on the stage, under the title of Trick for Trick.

33. Nice Valour, or the Passionate Madman, a Comedy.

34. The Night-walker, or the Little Thief, a Comedy, revived since the Restoration with applause.

35. The Noble Gentleman, a Comedy; this was revived by Mr. Durfey, and by him called The Fool's Preferment, at the Three Dukes of Dunstable.

36. Philaster, or Love lies a Bleeding, a Tragi-Comedy. This was the first play that brought these fine writers into esteem. It was first represented at the old Theatre in Lincolns Inn Fields, when the women acted by themselves.

37. The Pilgrim, a Comedy; revived and acted with success.

38. The Prophetess, a Tragi-Comedy. This play has been revived by Mr. Betterton, under the title of Dioclesian, an Opera.

39. The Queen of Cornish, a Tragi-Comedy.

40. Rule a Wife and Have a Wife, a Comedy.

41. The Scornful Lady, a Comedy; acted with great applause.

42. The Sea Voyage, a Comedy; revived by Mr. Durfey, who calls it The Commonwealth of Women. It would appear by the lines we have quoted p. 141, life of Shakespear, that it was taken from Shakespear's Tempest.

43. The Spanish Curate, a Comedy, several times revived with applause; the plot from Gerardo's History of Don John, p. 202, and his Spanish Curate, p. 214.

44. Thiery and Theodoret, a Tragedy; the plot taken from the French Chronicles, in the reign of Colsair II.

45. Two Noble Kinsmen, a Tragi-comedy; Shakespear assisted Fletcher in composing this play.

46. Valentinian, a Tragedy; afterwards revived and altered by the Earl of Rochester.

47. A Wife for a Month, a Tragedy; for the plot see Mariana and Louis de Mayerne Turquet, History of Sancho, the eighth King of Leon.

48. The Wild-Goose Chace, a Comedy, formerly acted with applause.

49. Wit at Several Weapons, a Comedy.

50. Wit without Money, a Comedy, revived at the Old House in Lincolns Inn Fields, immediately after the burning of the Theatre in Drury Lane, with a new Prologue by Mr. Dryden.

51. The Woman Hater, a Comedy, revived by Sir William Davenant, with a new Prologue in prose. This play was writ by Fletcher alone.

52. Women pleased, a Comedy; the plot from Boccace's Novels,

53. Woman's Prize, or the Tanner Tann'd, a Comedy, built on the same foundation with Shakespear's Taming of a Shrew; writ by Fletcher without Beaumont.

Mr. Beaumont writ besides his dramatic pieces, a volume of poems, elegies, sonnets, &c.

* * * * *

THOMAS LODGE

Was descended from a family of his name living in Lincolnshire, but whether born there, is not ascertained. He made his first appearance at the university of Oxford about the year 1573, and was afterwards a scholar under the learned Mr. Edward Hobye of Trinity College; where, says Wood, making very early advances, his ingenuity began first to be observed, in several of his poetical compositions. After he had taken one degree in arts, and dedicated some time to reading the bards of antiquity, he gained some reputation in poetry, particularly of the satiric species; but being convinced how barren a foil poetry is, and how unlikely to yield a competent provision for its professors, he studied physic, for the improvement of which he went beyond sea, took the degree of Dr. of that faculty at Avignon, returned and was incorporated in the university in the latter end of Queen Elizabeth's reign: Afterwards settling in London, he practised physic with great success, and was particularly encouraged by the Roman Catholics, of which persuasion it is said he was.

Our author hath written

Alarm against Usurers, containing tried experiences against worldly abuses, London 1584.

History of Forbonius and Prisæria, with Truth's Complaint over England.

Euphue's Golden Legacy.

The Wounds of a Civil War livelily set forth, in the true Tragedies of Marius and Sylla, London 1594.

Looking Glass for London and England, a Tragi-Comedy printed in 4to. London 1598, in an old black letter. In this play our author was assisted by Mr. Robert Green. The drama is founded upon holy writ, being the History of Jonah and the Ninevites, formed into a play. Mr. Langbain supposes they chose this subject, in imitation of others who had writ dramas on sacred themes long before them; as Ezekiel, a Jewish dramatic poet, writ the Deliverance of the Israelites out of Egypt: Gregory Nazianzen, or as some say, Apollinarius of Laodicea, writ the Tragedy of Christ's Passion; to these may be added

Hugo Grotius, Theodore Beza, Petavius, all of whom have built upon the foundation of sacred history.

Treatise on the Plague, containing the nature, signs, and accidents of the same, London 1603.

Treatise in Defence of Plays. This (says Wood) I have not yet seen, nor his pastoral songs and madrigals, of which he writ a considerable number.

He also translated into English, Josephus's History of the Antiquity of the Jews, London 1602. The works both moral and natural of Seneca, London 1614. This learned gentleman died in the year 1625, and had tributes paid to his memory by many of his cotemporary poets, who characterised him as a man of very considerable genius. Winstanley has preserved an amorous sonnet of his, which we shall here insert.

If I must die, O let me chuse my death: Suck out my soul with kisses, cruel maid! In thy breasts crystal balls, embalm my breath, Dole it all out in sighs, when I am laid; Thy lips on mine like cupping glasses clasp; Let our tongues meet, and strive as they would sting: Crush out my wind with one straight-girting grasp, Stabs on my heart keep time while thou dost sing. Thy eyes like searing irons burn out mine; In thy fair tresses stifle me outright: Like Circe, change me to a loathsome swine, So I may live forever in thy sight. Into heaven's joys can none profoundly see, Except that first they meditate on thee.

When our author wishes to be changed into a loathsome swine, so he might dwell in sight of his mistress, he should have considered, that however agreeable the metamorphosis might be to him, it could not be so to her, to look upon such a loathsome object.

[Footnote 1: Langbaine's Lives of the Poets.]

[Footnote 2: There is a coarseness of dialogue, even in their genteelest characters, in comedy, that appears now almost unpardonable; one is almost inclined to think the language and manners of those times were not over-polite, this fault appears so frequent; nor is the great Shakespear entirely to be acquitted hereof.]

[Footnote 3: May not this be owing to envy? are not most wits jealous of their cotemporaries? how readily do we pay adoration to the dead? how slowly do we give even faint praise to the living? is it a wonder Beaumont and Fletcher were more praised and versified than Shakespear? were not inferior wits opposed, nay preferred, to Dryden while living? was not this the case of Addison and Pope, whose works (those authors being no more) will be read with admiration, and allowed the just pre-eminence, while the English tongue is understood.]

[Footnote 4: Preface to Fletcher's plays.]

* * * * *

Sir JOHN DAVIES

Was born at Chisgrove, in the parish of Tysbury in Wiltshire, being the son of a wealthy tanner of that place. At fifteen years of age he became a Commoner in Queen's-college, Oxford 1585, where having made great progress in academical learning, and taken the degree of Batchelor of arts, he removed to the Middle-Temple, and applying himself to the study of the common law, was called to the bar; but having a quarrel with one Richard Martyn, (afterwards recorder of London) he bastinadoed him in the Temple-hall at dinner-time, in presence of the whole assembly, for which contempt, he was immediately expelled, and retired again to Oxford to prosecute his studies, but did not resume the scholar's-gown. Upon this occasion he composed that excellent poem called Nosce Teipsum[1]. Afterwards by the favour of Thomas lord Ellesmere, keeper of the Great Seal, being reinstated in the Temple, he practised as a counsellor, and became a burgess in the Parliament held at Westminster 1601. Upon the death of Queen Elizabeth our author, with Lord Hunsdon, went into Scotland to congratulate King James on his succession to the English throne. Being introduced into his Majesty's presence, the King enquired of Lord Hunsdon, the names of the gentlemen who accompanied him, and when his lordship mentioned John Davies, the King presently asked whether he was Nosce Teipsum, and being answered he was, embraced him, and assured him of his favour. He was accordingly made Sollicitor, and a little after Attorney-general in Ireland, where in the year 1606, he was made one of his Majesty's serjeants at law, and Speaker of the House of Commons for that kingdom. In the year following, he received the honour of knighthood from the King at Whitehall. In 1612 he quitted the post of Attorney-general in Ireland, and was made one of his Majesty's English serjeants at law. He married Eleanor Touchet, youngest daughter of George lord Audley, by whom he had a son, an idiot who died young, and a daughter named Lucy, married to Ferdinand lord Hastings, and afterwards Earl of Huntingdon. His lady was a woman of very extraordinary character; she had, or rather pretended to have a spirit of prophecy, and her predictions received from a voice which she often heard, were generally wrapped up in dark and obscure expressions. It was commonly reported, that on the sunday before her husband's death, she was sitting at dinner with him, she suddenly burst into tears, whereupon he asking her the occasion, she answered, "Husband, these are your funeral tears," to which he replied, "Pray therefore spare your tears now, and I will be content that you shall laugh when I am dead." After Sir John's death she lived privately at Parston in Hertfordshire, and an account was published of her strange and wonderful prophecies in 1609. In 1626 Sir John was appointed lord chief justice of the King's-bench, but before the ceremony of his installation could be performed he died suddenly of an apoplexy in the fifty-seventh year of his age, and was buried in the church of St. Martin's in the Fields. He enjoyed the joint applauses of Camden, Ben Johnson, Sir John Harrington, Selden, Donne, and Corbet; these are great authorities in our author's favour, and I may fairly assert that no philosophical writers ever explained their ideas more clearly and familiarly in prose, or more harmoniously and beautifully in verse. There is a peculiar happiness in his similies being introduced more to illustrate than adorn, which renders them as useful as entertaining, and distinguishes them from any other author.

In quality of a lawyer Sir John produced the following pieces:

1. A discovery of the true causes why Ireland was never entirely subdued until his Majesty's happy reign; printed in 4to. London 1612, dedicated to the King with this Latin verse only.

Principis est virtus maxima nosse suos.

2. A declaration of our sovereign lord the King, concerning the title of his Majesty's son Charles, the prince and duke of Cornwall; London 1614.

His principal performance as a poet, is a Poem on the Original, Nature, and Immortality of the Soul, dedicated to Queen Elizabeth. It was republished by Nahum Tate, 1714, addressed to the Earl of Dorset and Middlesex, who was a great admirer of our poet, and the editor gives it a very just and advantageous character. Without doubt it is the Nosce Teipsum so much admired by King James, printed 1519, and 1622, mentioned by Wood; to which were added by the same hand:

Hymns of Astrea in acrostic verse; and Orchestra, or a poem expressing the antiquity and excellency of dancing, in a dialogue between Penelope and one of her Woers, containing 131 stanzas unfinished. Mr. Wood mentions also epigrams, and a translation of several of King David's Psalms, written by Sir John Davies, but never published.

NOSCE TEIPSUM.

Why did my parents send me to the schools, That I, with knowledge might enrich my mind, Since the desire to know first made men fools And did corrupt the root of all mankind.

For when God's hand, had written in the hearts, Of our first parents all the rules of good, So that their skill infus'd, surpass'd all arts, That ever were before or since the flood.

And when their reason's eye was sharp and clear, And (as an eagle can behold the sun) Cou'd have approach'd th' eternal light as near, As th' intellectual Angels could have done.

Even then, to them the spirit of lyes suggests, That they were blind because they saw not ill; And breath'd into their incorrupted breasts A curious wish, which did corrupt their will.

[Footnote 1: Muses library p. 332.]

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THOMAS GOFF.

A Gentleman who flourished in the reign of King James I. He was born in Essex, towards the latter end of Queen Elizabeth's reign, about the year 1592. In his youth he was sent to Westminster-school, and at the age of eighteen, he was entered student of Christ's-college in Oxford[1]. Being an industrious scholar, says Langbaine, he arrived to be a good poet, a skilful orator, and an excellent preacher. In the year 1623 he was made batchelor of divinity, and preferred to a living in Surry called East-Clanden: there he married a wife who proved as great a plague to him as a shrew could be; she was a true Xantippe to our ecclesiastical Socrates, and gave him daily opportunities of puting his patience to the proof; and it is believed by some, that this domestic scourge shortened his days. He was buried at his own parish church at Clanden, the 27th of July, 1627. He writ several pieces on different subjects, amongst which are reckoned five plays. Careless Shepherdess, a Tragi-comedy, acted before the King and Queen at Salisbury court with great applause. Printed in 4to,1656, with an Alphabetical Catalogue of all such plays as ever were to that time published. 2. Courageous Turk, or Amurath I. a Tragedy, acted by the students of Christ-church in Oxford, printed in 8vo, London 1656. For the plot consult Knolles's History of the Turks. 3. Orcites, a Tragedy, acted by the students of Christ's-church in Oxford, printed in 8vo, London 1656. 4. Raging Turk, or Bajazet II. a tragedy acted by the students in Christ's-church in Oxford, printed in 8vo. London 1656. This play was written with the two foregoing tragedies, when the author was master of arts, and student of Christ's-church, but not printed till after his decease. 5. Selinus, Emperor of the Turks, a Tragedy, printed in 4to, London 1638. This play in all probability was never exhibited, because it is not divided into acts. The author calls this the first part; and in his conclusion, as he stiles it, or epilogue, he promises a second part, saying,

If this first part, gentles, do like you well; The second part shall greater murders tell.

The plot is founded on the Turkish history in the reign of Selinus I. Mr. Philips and Mr. Winstanley have ascribed a comedy to this author, called Cupid's Whirligig, tho' Democritus and Heraclitus were not more different in their temper, than his genius was opposite to comedy, besides the true author was one Mr. E. S. who in his dedicatory epistle says,

"That being long pregnant with desire to bring forth something, and being afterwards brought to bed, had chose his friend Mr. Robert Hayman to be godfather, not doubting but his child would be well maintained, feeing he could not live above an hour with him; and therefore he entreated him when he was dead, that he might be buried deep enough in his good opinion, and that he might deserve this epitaph;

Here lies the child that was born in mirth, Against the strict rules of child-birth; And to be quit, I gave him to my friend, Who laught him to death, and that was his end."

The reason of my making this digression, is to shew, that such ridiculous unmeaning mirth, is not likely to have fallen from Mr. Goff, as he was a grave man, and nothing but what was manly droped from his pen. In the latter part of his life he forsook the stage for the pulpit, and instead of plays writ sermons, some of which appeared in print in the year 1627. To these works may be added his Latin funeral oration, at the divinity school, at the obsequies of Sir Henry Saville, printed in 4to, Oxon 1622; another in Christ's-church cathedral, at the funeral of Dr. Goodwin, canon of that church, printed in London 1627.

[Footnote 1: Langbaine's Lives of the Poets, 223.]

* * * * *

Sir FULK GREVILLE, Lord BROOKE,

Sprung from an honourable family in Warwickshire; he was educated both at Oxford and Cambridge, and introduced to court by an uncle in the service of Queen Elisabeth, who received him into her favour, which he had the happiness to preserve uninterupted to her death. At the coronation of James I, he was created Knight of the Bath, and soon after obtained a grant of the ruinous castle of Warwick. He was next appointed sub-treasurer, chancellor of the Exchequer, and privy counsellor, and then advanced to the degree of a baron, by the title of lord Brooke of Beauchamps-court, and one of the lords of the bed-chamber to his Majesty. This noble author was the friend of Sir Philip Sidney, than which a greater compliment cannot be bestowed. As he was a poet and a man of wit he was held in the highest esteem in that courtly age; but he added to genius, a gallantry of spirit, and was as fine a soldier as a writer. Winstanley gives an instance of his prowess in arms.

"At the time (says he) when the French ambassador came over to England to negotiate a marriage between the duke of Anjou, and Queen Elizabeth, for the better entertainment of the court, solemn justs were proclaimed, where the Earl of Arundel, Frederick lord Windsor, Sir Philip Sidney, and he, were chief challengers against all comers; in which challenge he behaved himself so gallantly, that he won the reputation of a most valiant knight. Thus you see that tho' case be the nurse of poetry, the Muses are also companions to Mars, as may be exemplified in the characters of the Earl of Surry, Sir Philip Sidney, and Sir Fulk Greville."

As our Author loved and admired the ladies, it is somewhat extraordinary, that he died a batchelor; for in all that courtly age, he could not find one on whom to confer the valuable prize of his heart. As he was himself a learned man, and possessed a variety of knowledge, so he patronized many necessitous candidates for fame, but particularly Camden, whom he caused by his interest to be made King at Arms. He was likewise very liberal to Mr. Speed the celebrated chronologer: finding him a man of extensive knowledge, and his occupation and circumstances mean, so that his genius was depressed by poverty, he enabled him to prosecute his studies, and pursue the bent of his genius without being obliged to drudge at a manual employment for his bread. Speed in his description of Warwickshire writes thus of lord Brook, "Whose merit (says he) towards me I do acknowledge, in setting my hand free from the daily employments of a manual trade, and giving it full liberty thus to express the inclination of mind, himself being the procurer of my present estate." He passed thro' life in a calm of prosperity and honour, beloved by his equals, reverenced by his inferiors, and a favourite at court; but when he was about seventy years of age, this life of undisturbed tranquility, was sacrificed to the resentment of a villain, and a catastrophe of the most tragical kind closed the days of this worthy man.

One Haywood, who had been many years in his service, and had behaved with fidelity and honour, expostulated with him freely (while they were alone) for his not having received a due reward for his services. His lordship enraged at his presumption, and giving way to his passion, reprimanded him very severely for his insolence; for which the villain being now wrought up to the highest degree of fury, took an opportunity to stab him with his dagger through the back into the vitals, of which wound he instantly died, September 30, 1628.

The murderer then struck with remorse, horror and despair, and all the natural attendants of his guilt, retired to his chamber, and having secured the door, fell upon the same weapon with which he had assassinated his master, and anticipated on himself the justice reserved for the hand of an executioner. Lord Brooke was interred in Warwickshire, under a monument of black and white marble[1], whereon he is stiled, Servant to Queen Elizabeth, Counsellor to King James, and friend to Sir Philip Sidney.

His works are chiefly these, viz.

Alaham, a Tragedy; printed in folio 1633. This play (says Langbaine) seems an imitation of the ancients; the Prologue is spoken by a ghost. This spectre gives an account of each character, which is perhaps done after the manner of Euripides, who introduced one of the chief actors as the Prologue, whose business it was to explain all those circumstances which preceded the opening the stage. He has not in one scene throughout introduced above two speakers, in compliance with Horace's rule in his _Art of Poetry_;

nec quarta loqui persona laboret.

Mr. Langbaine professes himself ignorant from whence the plot is taken, neither can he find the name of any such Prince as Alaham, that reigned in Ormus, where the scene lyes, an island situated at the entrance of the Persian Gulph, which is mentioned by Mr. Herbert[2] in his account of Ormus.

Mustapha, a Tragedy, printed in folio 1633. This play likewise seems to be built on the model of the ancients, and the plot is the same with that of lord Orrery's tragedy of the same title, and taken from Paulus Jovius, Thuanus, &c. Both these plays are printed together in folio, London, 1633, with several other poems, as a Treatise on Human Learning; An Inquisition upon Fame and Honour; A Treatise of Wars. All these are written in a stanza of six lines, four interwoven, and a couplet in base, which the Italians call Sestine Coelica, containing one hundred and nine sonnets of different measures. There are in this volume two letters; the one to an honourable Lady, containing directions how to behave in a married state; the other addressed to his cousin Grevil Varney, then in France, containing Directions for Travelling. His lordship has other pieces ascribed to him besides those published under his name, The Life of Sir Philip Sidney, printed at the beginning of the Arcadia. His Remains, or Poems of Monarchy and Religion, printed in 8vo. London 1670. Philips and Winstanley ascribe a play to him, called Marcus Tullius Cicero, but this is without foundation, for that play was not written, at least not printed, 'till long after his lordship's death. Having now given some account of his works, I shall sum up his character in the words of Mrs. Cooper, in her Muses Library, as it is not easy to do it to better advantage.

"I don't know (says she) whether a woman may be acquitted for endeavouring to sum up a character so various and important as his lordship's; but if the attempt can be excused, I don't desire to have it pass for a decisive sentence. Perhaps few men that dealt in poetry had more learning, or real wisdom than this nobleman, and yet his stile is sometimes so dark and mysterious, that one would imagine he chose rather to conceal, than illustrate his meaning. At other times his wit breaks out again with an uncommon brightness, and shines, I'd almost said, without an equal. It is the same thing with his poetry, sometimes so harsh and uncouth as if he had no ear for music, at others, so smooth and harmonious as if he was master of all its powers."

The piece from which I shall quote some lines, is entitled,

A TREATISE of HUMAN LEARNING.

The mind of man is this world's true dimension; And knowledge is the measure of the minde: And as the minde in her vast comprehension, Contains more worlds than all the world can finde. So knowledge doth itself farre more extend, Than all the minds of men can comprehend.

A climbing height it is without a head, Depth without bottome, way without an end, A circle with no line invironed, Not comprehended, all it comprehends; Worth infinite, yet satisfies no minde, 'Till it that Infinite of the God-head finde.

[Footnote 1: Fuller's Worthies of Warwickshire, p. 127.]

[Footnote 2: Travels, third Edition, p. 114.]

* * * * *

JOHN DAY.

This author lived in the reign of King James I. and was some time student in Caius College in Cambridge. No particulars are preserved concerning this poet, but that he had connection with other poets of some name, and wrote the following plays:

1. Blind Beggar of Bethnal Green, with the Merry Humour of Tom Stroud, the Norfolk Yeoman, several times publicly acted by the Prince's Servants; printed in 4to. London, 1659; for the plot, as far as it concerns history, consult the writers in the reign of King Henry VI.

2. Humour out of Breath, a Comedy, said to have been writ by our author, but some have doubted his being the real author of it.

3. Isle of Gulls, a Comedy, often acted in the Black Fryars, by the children of the Revels, printed in 4to. London, 1633. This is founded upon Sir Philip Sidney's Arcadia.

4. Law Tricks, or Who Would Have Thought It? a Comedy, several times acted by the children of the Revels, and printed in 4to. 1608.

5. Parliament of Bees, with their proper characters, or a Bee-Hive furnished with Twelve Honey-Combs, as pleasant as profitable, being an allegorical description of the ancients of good and bad men in those days, printed in 4to. London, 1641.

6. Travels of Three English Brothers, Sir Thomas, Sir Anthony, and Mr. Robert Shirley, a History, played by her Majesty's Servants, printed in 4to. London, 1607, and dedicated to Honour's Favourites and the entire friends of the family of the Shirleys. In the composition of this play our author was assisted by William Rowley, and Mr. George Wilkins; the foundation of it may be read in several English Writers, and Chronicles, and it is particularly set down in Dr. Fuller's Worthies, in his description of Sussex. When our author died cannot be justly ascertained, but Mr. Langbaine has preserved an elegy written on him, by his friend Mr. Tateham, which begins thus:

Don Phoebus now hath lost his light, And left his rule unto the night; And Cynthia, she has overcome The Day, and darkened the sun: Whereby we now have lost our hope, Of gaining Day, into horoscope, &c.

In this manner he runs on: like a gentleman in Lincolns Inn, who wrote an ingenious poem upon the transactions between a Landlord and his Tenant Day, who privately departed from him by Night, printed in a single sheet, London, 1684. To shew the parallel, the following lines are sufficient.

How Night and Day conspire a secret flight; For Day, they say, is gone away by Night. The Day is past, but landlord where's your rent? You might have seen, that Day was almost spent. Day sold, and did put off whate'er he might, Tho' it was ne'er so dark, Day wou'd be light.

* * * * *

Sir WALTER RALEIGH

Was descended of an ancient family in Devonshire, which was seated in that county before the conquest[1], and was fourth son of Walter Raleigh, esquire, of Fards, in the parish of Cornwood. He was born in the year 1552 at Hayes, a pleasant farm of his father's in the parish of Budley, in that part of Devonshire bordering Eastward upon the Sea, near where the Ottery discharges itself into the British Channel; he was educated at the university of Oxford, where, according to Dr. Fuller, he became a commoner of Oriel College, as well as Christ Church, and displayed in his early years a great vivacity of genius in his application to his studies. Some have said, that after leaving the university, he settled himself in the Middle-Temple, and studied the law, but this opinion must be erroneous, since he declares afterwards on his trial, that he never read a word of law 'till he was prisoner in the Tower. In 1569, when he was not above 17 years of age, he was one of the select troop of a hundred gentlemen voluntiers, whom Queen Elizabeth permitted Henry Champernon to transport into France, for the assistance of protestant Princes there[2], but of what service they were, or what was the consequence of the expedition, we have no account. So great a scene of action as the whole kingdom of France was at that period, gave Raleigh an opportunity of acquiring experience, and reading characters, as well as improving himself in the knowledge of languages and manners, and his own History of the World contains some remarks which he then made of the conduct of some great generals there, of which he had himself been witness. After our author's return from France, he embarked in an expedition to the northern parts of America, with Sir Humphry Gilbert, his brother by the mother's side, that gentleman having obtained the Queen's Patent to plant and inhabit such parts of it as were unpossessed by any Prince with whom she was in alliance; but this attempt proved unsuccessful by means of the division which arose amongst the Voluntiers. The next year, 1580, upon the descent of the Spanish and Italian forces in Ireland under the Pope's banner, for the support of the Desmonds in their rebellion in Munster, he had a captain's commission under the lord Grey of Wilton, to whom at that time the famous Spenser was secretary; but the chief services which, captain Raleigh performed, were under Thomas earl of Ormond, governor of Munster. He surprized the Irish Kerns at Ramile, and having inclosed them, took every rebel upon the spot, who did not fall in the conflict. Among the prisoners there was one laden with Withies, who being asked, what he intended to have done with them? boldly answered, to have hung up the English Charles; upon which Raleigh ordered him to be immediately dispatched in that manner, and the rest of the robbers and murderers to be punished according to their deserts[3]. The earl of Ormond departing for England in the spring of the year 1581, his government of Munster was given to captain Raleigh; in which he behaved with great vigilance and honour, he fought the Arch rebel Barry at Clove, whom he charged with the utmost bravery, and after a hard struggle, put to flight. In the month of August, 1581, captain John Gouch being appointed Governour of Munster by the Lord Deputy, Raleigh attended him in several journies to settle and compose that country; but the chief place of their residence was Cork, and after Gouch had cut off Sir John Desmond, brother to the earl of Desmond, who was at the head of the rebellion, he left the government of that city to Raleigh[4], whose company being not long after disbanded upon the reduction of that earl, the slaughter of his brother, and the submission of Barry, he returned to England. The Lord Deputy Grey having resigned the sword in Ireland towards the end of August, 1582, the dispute between him and Raleigh, upon reasons which are variously assigned by different writers, was brought to a hearing before the council table in England, where the latter supported his cause with such abilities as procured him the good opinion both of her Majesty, and the Lords of the Council, and this, added to the patronage of the earl of Leicester, is supposed to be one considerable occasion of his preferment, though it did not immediately take place, nor could the hopes of it restrain him from a second expedition with his brother Sir Humphry Gilbert to Newfoundland, for which he built a ship of 200 tons called The Bark Raleigh, and furnished it compleatly for the voyage, in which he resolved to attend his brother as his Vice-Admiral. That fleet departed from Plymouth the 11th of June, 1583, but after it had been two or three days at sea, a contagious distemper having seized the whole crew of Raleigh's ship, obliged him to return to that port; however by this accident, he escaped the misfortune of that expedition; for after Sir Humphry had taken possession of Newfoundland, in the right of the crown of England, and assigned lands to every man of his company, and failed three hundred leagues in the voyage home with full hopes of the Queen's assistance to fit out a fleet next year, he unfortunately perished; for venturing rashly in a frigate of but ten tons, he was on the ninth of September that year at midnight swallowed up in an high sea, another vessel suffered the same fate, and even the rest returned not without great hazard and loss[5]: but this ill success could not divert Raleigh from pursuing a scheme of such importance to his country as those discoveries in North America. He drew up an account of the advantage of such a design, and the means of prosecuting it, which he laid before the Queen and Council, who were so well satisfied with the probability of success, that on the 25th of March, 1584, her Majesty granted him letters patent, in favour of his project, containing free liberty to discover such remote heathen and barbarous lands, as were not actually possessed by any Christian prince, nor inhabited by Christian people. Immediately upon this grant, Raleigh chose two able and experienced captains, and furnished them with two vessels fitted out at his own expence, with such expedition that on the 27th of April following they set sail for the West of England, taking their course by the Canary Islands, where they arrived on the 10th of May, towards the West Indies; and that being in those days the best and most frequented rout to America, they passed by the Carribbe Islands in the beginning of June, and reached the Gulph of Florida on the 2d of July, sailing along the shore about one hundred and twenty miles before they could find a convenient harbour. At last they debarked in a very low land, which proved to be an island called Wohoken; and after taking formal possession of the country, they carried on a friendly correspondence with the native Indians, who supplied them with a great variety of fish and venison, and gave them furs, and deerskins in exchange for trifles. Thus encouraged by the natives, eight of the company in a boat, went up the river Occam twenty miles, and next day in the evening they came to an island called Roanah, which was but seven leagues from the place where their ships lay. Here they found the residence of the Indian chief, whose name was Grangamineo, whose house consisted of nine apartments built of Cedar, fortified round with sharp pieces of timber: His wife came out to them, and ordered the people to carry them from the boat on their backs, and shewed them many other civilities. They continued their intercourse with the natives for some time, still viewing the situation of the adjacent country, and after having obtained the best information they could of the number and strength of the Indian nations in that neighbourhood, and of their connexions, alliances, or contests with each other, they returned about the middle of September to England, and made such an advantageous report of the fertility of the soil, and healthiness of the climate, that the Queen favoured the design of settling a colony in that country, to which she was pleased to give the name of Virginia[6].

About two months after, Raleigh was chosen Knight of the Shire for his county of Devon, and made a considerable figure in parliament, where a bill passed in confirmation of his patent for the discovery of foreign countries. During the course of this sessions, he received the honour of knighthood from her Majesty, a distinction the more honourable to him, as the Queen was extreamly cautious in confering titles; and besides the patent for discoveries, she granted him, about the same time, a power to license the vending of wines throughout the kingdom, which was in all probability very lucrative to him; but it engaged him in a dispute with the university of Cambridge, which had opposed one Keymer, whom he had licensed to sell wine there, contrary to the privileges of that university.

The parliament being prorogued, Raleigh, intent upon planting his new colony in Virginia, set out his own fleet of seven sail for that country, under the command of his cousin Sir Richard Greenville, who after having visited the country, left behind him an hundred and seven persons to settle a colony at Roanah; in his return to England, he took a Spanish prize worth 50000 l. but this was not the only circumstance of good fortune which happened to Raleigh this year; for the rebellion in Ireland being now suppressed, and the forfeited lands divided into Signiories, among those principally who had been instrumental in the important service of reducing that country; her Majesty granted him one of the largest portions, consisting of twelve thousand acres in the counties of Cork and Waterford, with certain privileges and immunities, upon condition, of planting and improving the same, to which the other grantees were obliged.

In the year 1586 we find our author so highly advanced in the Queen's favour, so extremely popular on account of his patronage of learned men, ard the active spirit he exerted in business, that her Majesty made him seneschal in the dutchy of Cornwall. But these distinctions incurred the usual effects of court preferment, and exposed Sir Walter to the envy of those who were much inferior to him in merit; and even the earl of Leicester himself, who had formerly been his great patron, became jealous of him, and set up in opposition to him, his nephew the young earl of Essex. The Comedians likewise took the liberty to reflect upon Raleigh's power, and influence upon the Queen; which her Majesty resented so highly as to forbid Tarleton, the most celebrated actor of that age, from approaching her presence.

Raleigh, sollicitous for the prosperity of the plantation in Virginia, sent out new supplies from time to time, some of whom were obliged to return home; and the general alarm spread over the nation on account of the Spanish invasion, threw all things into disorder.

About the beginning of the year 1587 he was raised to the dignity of captain of her majesty's guard, which he held together with the place of lord-warden of the Stannaries, and lieutenant-general of the county of Cornwall. From this time till the year 1594, we find Sir Walter continually engaged in projecting new expeditions, sending succours to colonies abroad, or managing affairs in Parliament with consummate address.

In the year 1593, we find Father Parsons the jesuit charging him with no less a crime than atheism, and that he had founded a school in which he taught atheistical principles, and had made a great many young gentlemen converts to them; the most considerable authority to countenance the suspicions of Sir Walter's religion, is that of Archbishop Abbot, who in a letter dated at Lambeth, addressed to Sir Thomas Roe, then an ambassador at the Mogul's court, expressly charges Sir Walter with doubting God's being and omnipotence[7]; but it is highly probable Sir Walter's opinions might be misrepresented by his enemies, or wrong conclusions drawn from those which he maintained; and it would be a shocking injustice to the memory of so great a man to suspect him of irreligion, whose writings contain not the least trace of it, and whose History of the World in particular breathes a strong spirit of real and genuine piety.

In the heighth of his favour with the Queen, he fell under her majesty's displeasure, for being enamoured of Mrs. Elizabeth Throgmorton, one of the Queen's maids of honour, whom he debauched; and such it seems was the chastity of these times, that a frailty of that sort was looked upon as the highest offence Her Majesty was so exasperated, that she commanded him to be confined several months, and after his enlargement forbid him the court, whence the poor lady was likewise dismissed from her attendance about the maiden queen, who appeared in this case the champion of virginity. Sir Walter soon made her an honourable reparation by marriage, and they were both examples of conjugal affection and fidelity. During the time our author continued under her majesty's displeasure for this offence, he projected the discovery of the rich and extensive empire of Guiana, in the south of America, which the Spaniards had then visited, and to that day had never conquered. For this purpose, having collected informations relating to it, he sent an old officer to take a view of the coast, who returned the year following with a very favourable account of the riches of the country, which he had received from some of the principal Cassiques upon the borders of it. This determined Raleigh's resolution, who provided a squadron of ships at a very great expence, and the lord high admiral Howard, and Sir Robert Cecil conceived so good an opinion of the design, that both concurred in it. He personally engaged in the attempt, and with no great number of ships so far explored the unknown country, that he made greater progress in a few months than the Spaniards had done for many years, and having satisfied himself of the certainty of the gold mines of the country, he returned home with honour and riches the latter end of the summer 1595, and in the year following published in quarto An Account of the Voyage and Discoveries, dedicated to lord admiral Howard and Sir Robert Cecil.

The next year Sir Walter was so far restored to the Queen's favour, that he was engaged in the important and successful expedition to Cadiz, in which the earl of Essex and lord admiral Howard were joint commanders, and Raleigh of the council of war, and one of the admirals. In this, as in all his other expeditions, he behaved with equal conduct and courage. After his return from the successful expedition under the earl of Essex, he promoted a reconciliation between that nobleman and secretary Cecil, in consequence of which he was himself fully reinstated in the Queen's favour, and had the command of captain of the guard restored to him with other marks of her forgiveness.

In 1597 he was employed in the island voyage as rear admiral, the earl of Essex having the chief command, and the lord Thomas Howard the post of vice-admiral. The design of it was to defeat and destroy at Ferol, as well as in the other ports of the enemy, the Spanish fleet intended for a new expedition against England and Ireland; and to seize upon such Indian fleets of treasure, as they should meet with belonging to the king of Spain, to conquer, restrain, and garrison, most of the Isles of the Azores, and especially the Terceras. But the success of this expedition did not answer the greatness of the preparations for it; the jealousy of the earl of Essex the commander, obstructing the services which Sir Walter's abilities might otherwise have performed. In the council of war, which was held before the isle of Flores, it was resolved that the general and Sir Walter should jointly attack the island of Fyal; where the latter waited seven days for his lordship, and hearing nothing of him, called a council of war, in which it was determined that Raleigh should attempt the town himself, which he did with astonishing bravery and success. Essex finding himself deprived of the honour of taking Fyal, was exasperated to such a degree, that he broke some of the officers who had behaved with great gallantry under Raleigh, and some of his sycophants alledged that Raleigh himself deserved to lose his head for breach of articles in landing without his lordships orders. Upon their return to England the earl endeavoured to transfer the miscarriages of the expedition upon Raleigh, and gained to his side the populace, whom Sir Walter never courted, and whose patronage he scorned; but the Queen herself was not well pleased with the earl's conduct, since it was judged he might have done more than he did; and his proceedings against Sir Walter in calling his actions to public question, were highly disapproved [8].

The next important transaction we find Raleigh engaged in, was in 1601, when the unfortunate earl of Essex, who had calumniated him to the king of Scotland, and endeavoured all he could to shake his interest, was so ill advised by his creatures, as to attempt a public insurrection. Raleigh was active in suppressing it: the earl pretended that the cause of his taking arms was to defend himself against the violence of his personal enemies, the lord Cobham and Raleigh having formed a design of murdering him; tho' on the other hand it is pretty certain, that Sir Ferdinand Gorges, one of the earl's accomplices, afterwards accused Sir Christopher Blount, another of them, for persuading him to kill, or at least apprehend, Sir Walter; which Gorges refusing, Blount discharged four shots after him in a boat. Blount acknowledged this, and at the time of his execution asked Sir Walter forgiveness for it; which he readily granted.----While the earl garisoned his house, Sir Walter was one of those who invested it, and when his lordship was brought to his trial, he with forty of the queen's guard was present upon duty, and was likewise examined with relation to a conference which he had upon the Thames the morning of the insurrection with Sir Ferdinando Gorges. At the execution of Essex, six days after, in the Tower, Raleigh attended, probably in his character of captain of the guard, and stood near the scaffold that he might the better answer if Essex should be desirous of speaking to him, but retired before the earl's execution, because the people seemed to take his appearance there in a wrong light; tho' he afterwards repented of it, as the earl expressed an inclination to see and speak with him before his death, which was in all probability to have asked Raleigh's forgiveness for having traduced, and calumniated him in order to colour his own rash designs.

In 1602 our author sold his estate in Ireland, to Mr. Boyle, afterwards earl of Cork, and about Midsummer he settled his estate of Sherbone on his son Walter, on account of a challenge which he had received from Sir Amias Preston, who had been knighted at Cadiz by the earl of Essex; which challenge Sir Walter intended to accept, and therefore disposed his affairs in proper order. The cause of their quarrel does not appear, but they were afterwards reconciled without proceeding to a duel[9].

The death of Queen Elizabeth on the 24th of March 1602-3 proved a great misfortune to Raleigh; James her successor having been prejudiced against him by the earl of Essex, who insinuated that Raleigh was no friend to his succession, nor had any regard for his family. And these prejudices were heightened by secretary Cecil in his private correspondence with that pusilanimous, jealous prince, before he ascended the Throne of England, or at least immediately upon that event; for tho' Raleigh and Cecil had united against Essex, yet after the ruin of that earl and his party, their seeming friendship terminated in a mutual struggle for a superiority of power. But there is another important cause of James's disgust to Sir Walter, which is, that he, lord Cobham, and Sir John Fortescue, would have obliged the king to articles before he was admitted to the throne, and that the number of his countrymen should be limitted; which added to the circumstance of Sir Walter's zeal to take off his mother, inspired his majesty with a confirmed aversion to him; and indeed the tragical end of the queen of Scots is, perhaps, the greatest error with which the annals of that glorious reign is stained. Raleigh in vain endeavoured to gain the affection of the new king, which he attempted by transfering on secretary Cecil the blood of the earl of Essex, as well as that of his royal mother; but this attempt to secure the affections of a weak prince, ended in his ruin, for it exasperated Cecil the more against him; and as Sir Walter was of an active martial genius, the king, who was a lover of peace, and a natural coward, was afraid that so military a man would involve him in a war, which he hated above all things in the world. Our author was soon removed from his command as captain of the guard, which was bestowed upon Sir Thomas Erskin, his majesty's favourite as well as countryman[10], the predecessor to the earl of Mar, whose actions, performed in the year 1715, are recent in every one's memory.

Not long after his majesty's ascending the throne of England, Sir Walter was charged with a plot against the king and royal family; but no clear evidence was ever produced that Raleigh had any concern in it. The plot was to have surprized the king and court, to have created commotions in Scotland, animated the discontented in England, and advanced Arabella Stuart, cousin to the king, to the throne. Arabella was the daughter of lord Charles Stuart, younger brother to Henry lord Darnly, and son to the duke of Lenox. She was afterwards married to William Seymour, son to lord Beauchamp, and grandson to the earl of Hertford; and both were confined for the presumption of marrying without his majesty's consent, from which they made their escape, but were again retaken. Lady Arabella died of grief, and Mr. Seymour lived to be a great favourite with Charles I. Raleigh persisted in avowing his ignorance of the plot, and when he came to his trial, he behaved himself so prudently, and defended himself with so much force, that the minds of the people present, who were at first exasperated against him, were turned from the severest hatred to the tenderest pity. Notwithstanding Sir Walter's proof that he was innocent of any such plot, and that lord Cobham, who had once accused him had recanted, and signed his recantation, nor was produced against him face to face, a pack'd jury brought him in guilty of high treason. Sentence of death being pronounced against him, he humbly requested that the king might be made acquainted with the proofs upon which he was cast. He accompanied the Sheriff to prison with wonderful magnanimity, tho' in a manner suited to his unhappy situation. Raleigh was kept near a month at Winchester in daily expectation of death, and in a very pathetic letter wrote his last words to his wife the night before he expected to suffer[11], in which he hoped his blood would quench their malice who had murdered him, and prayed God to forgive his persecutors, and accusers. The king signed the warrant for the execution of the lords Cobham and Grey, and Sir Griffin Markham, at Winchester, pretending, says lord Cecil, to forbear Sir Walter for the present, till lord Cobham's death had given some light how far he would make good his accusation. Markham was first brought upon the scaffold, and when he was on his knees, ready to receive the blow of the ax, the groom of the bedchamber produced to the sheriff his Majesty's warrant to stop the execution; and Markham was told that he must withdraw a while into the hall to be confronted by the Lords. Then Lord Grey was brought forth, and having poured out his prayers and confession, was likewise called aside, and lastly Lord Cobham was exposed in the same manner, and performed his devotions, though we do not find that he said one word of his guilt or innocence, or charged Raleigh with having instigated him; all which circumstances seem more than sufficient to wipe off from the memory of Raleigh the least suspicion of any plot against James's person or government.

He was remanded to the Tower of London with the rest of the prisoners, of whom Markham afterwards obtained his liberty, and travelled abroad. Lord Grey of Wilton died in the Tower; Lord Cobham was confined there many years, during which, it is said, he was examined by the King in relation to Raleigh, and entirely cleared him; he afterwards died in the lowest circumstances of distress.

In February following a grant was made by the King of all the goods and chattels forfeited by Sir Walter's conviction to the trustees of his appointing for the benefit of his creditors, lady and children. After 12 years confinement in the Tower, in March 1615 he was released out of it, by the interposition of the favourite Buckingham; but before he quitted that place he saw the earl of Somerset committed there for the murder of Sir Thomas Overbury, and afterwards condemned, which occasioned Sir Walter to compare his own case with that of the earl's, and to remark, 'That the whole History of the World had not the like precedent of a King's prisoner to purchase freedom, and his bosom favourite 'to have the halter, but in scripture, in the case of Mordecai and Haman;' on hearing which, the King is said to have replied, that Raleigh might die in that deceit, which afterwards proved true, for the King pardoned the infamous Somerset, a murderer, and executed Raleigh, a brave and an honest man, equally to the astonishment of the world. Sir Walter being now at large, had the means of prosecuting his old scheme of settling Guiana, which he had so much at heart, that even during his imprisonment, he held a constant correspondence with that country, sending thither every year, or every second year, a ship, to keep the Indians in hopes of being relieved from the tyranny of the Spaniards, who had again encroached upon them, and massacred many, both of the inhabitants and of Raleigh's men. In these ships were brought several natives of the country, with whom he conversed in the Tower, and obtained all possible informations concerning it. Upon such informations he offered his scheme for prosecuting his discovery to the court before he undertook it in person: nor were there any doubts either as to the improbability of the design, or its unlawfulness, notwithstanding the peace made with Spain, otherwise the King would not have made such grants, as he did, even at that time, which shews that he was then convinced, that Sir Walter had in his first voyage discovered and taken possession of that country for the crown of England, and consequently that his subjects were justly intitled to any benefits that might arise from its discovery, without the least respect to the pretensions of the Spaniards: Besides, when Sir Walter first moved the court upon this subject, the Spanish match was not thought of, and the King's necessities being then very pressing, he may be presumed to have conceived great hopes from that discovery, though he might afterwards change his opinion, when he grew so unreasonably fond of that match.

In 1616, he obtained a royal commission to settle Guiana at the expence of himself and his friends; he was appointed General, and Commander in Chief of this enterprize, and Governor of the new country, which he was to settle with ample authority; a power was granted him too, of exercising martial law in such a manner as the King's Lieutenant General by sea or land, or any Lieutenants of the counties of England had. These powers seem to imply a virtual pardon to Raleigh, and perhaps made, him less solicitous for an actual one. Meantime Gondemar the Spanish ambassador, by his address, vivacity, and flattering the humours of James, had gained a great ascendency over him, and began to make a great clamour about Raleigh's preparations, and from that moment formed schemes of destroying him. The whole expence of this expedition was defrayed by Raleigh and his friends; the fleet consisted of about seven sail. On the 17th of November, 1617, they came in sight of Guiana, and soon after to anchor, in five degrees off the river Caliana, where they remained till the 4th of December. Raleigh was received with great joy by the Indians, who not only assisted him with provisions, and every thing else in their power, but offered him the sovereignty of their country if he would settle amongst them, which he declined to accept.[12] His extreme sickness for six weeks prevented him from undertaking the discovery of the mines in person, and was obliged to depute captain Keymis to that service; and accordingly on the 4th of December, ordered five small ships to sail into the river Oronoque. When they landed, they found a Spanish garrison between them and the mine, which sallying out unexpectedly, put them in confusion, and gave them battle. In this conflict young Raleigh was killed, and by a fatal mistake, captain Keymis did not prove the mine, but burnt and plundered the Spanish garrison, and found amongst the governor's papers one, which informed him, that Raleigh's expedition had been betrayed, and that he was to be sacrificed to the Spaniards. Upon Keymis's unsuccessful attempt, Raleigh sharply rebuked him for his mistake, and a deviation from his orders, which so much affected that captain, that he shot himself in his own cabin, and finding the wound not mortal, he finished his design by a long knife with which he stabbed himself to the heart. In this distressful situation Raleigh returned home, and found on his arrival at Plymouth, a declaration published against him; at which he took the alarm, and contrived to convey himself out of the kingdom in a vessel hired for that purpose by an old officer of his; but changing his opinion in that respect, he proceeded in his journey to London.

Yet thinking it proper to gain time for the appeasing his majesty, by the assistance of one Maneuric a French quack, he counterfeited sickness for several days, during which he wrote his apology. However on the 7th of August he arrived at London, where he was confined in his own house; but having still good reasons not to trust himself to the mercy of the court, he formed a design to escape into France, which Sir Lewis Stackley, who was privy to, and encouraged it, discovered, and Sir Walter being seized in a boat upon the river below Woolwich, was a second time, on the 10th of August, committed to the Tower; but tho' his death seemed absolutely determined, yet it seemed difficult to find a method of accomplishing it, since his conduct in the late expedition could not be stretched in law to such a sentence. It was resolved therefore, to sacrifice him to the resentment of Spain, in a manner so shameful, that it has justly exposed the conduct of the court to the indignation of all succeeding ages, and transmitted the pusillanimous monarch with infamy to posterity. They called him down to judgment upon his former sentence passed fifteen years before, which they were not then ashamed to execute. A privy seal was sent to the judges to order immediate execution, on which a conference was held Friday the 24th of Oct. 1688, between all the judges of England, concerning the manner, how prisoners who have been attainted of treason and set at liberty, should be brought to execution. In consequence of their revolution, a privy seal came to the King's-Bench, commanding that court to proceed against Sir Walter according to law, who next day received notice of the council to prepare himself for death; and on Wednesday the 28th of that month, at 8 o'clock in the morning, was taken out of bed in the hot fit of an ague, and carried to the King's-Bench, Westminster, where execution was awarded against him. The next morning, the 29th of October, the day of the lord-mayor's inauguration, a solemnity never perhaps attended before with a public execution, Sir Walter was conducted by the sheriffs of Middlesex to the Old Palace Yard in Westminster, where mounting the scaffold, he behaved with the most undaunted spirit, and seeming cheerfulness. The bishop of Salisbury (Tohon) being surprized at the hero's contempt of death, and expostulating with him upon it; he told him plainly that he never feared death, and much less then, for which he blessed God, and as to the manner of it, tho' to others it might seem grievous, yet for himself he had rather die so than in a burning fever. This verifies the noble observation of Shakespear, that all heroes have a contempt of death; which he puts in the mouth of Julius Cæsar when his friends dissuaded him from going to the Senate-House.

Cowards die many a time before their deaths, The valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders, I have heard of yet, It seems to me most strange, that men should fear, Seeing that death, the necessary end, Will come, when it will come.----

Sir Walter eat his breakfast that morning, smoaked his pipe, and made no more of death, than if he had been to take a journey. On the scaffold he conversed freely with the Earl of Arundel and others of the nobility, and vindicated himself from two suspicions; the first, of entering into a confederacy with France; the second, of speaking disloyally of his Majesty. He cleared himself likewise of the suspicion of having persecuted the Earl of Essex, or of insulting him at his death. He concluded with desiring the good people to join with him in prayer, to that great God of Heaven, "whom (says he) I have grievously offended, being a man full of vanity, who has lived a sinful life, in such callings as have been most inducing to it: For I have been a soldier, a sailor, and a courtier; which are courses of wickedness and vice." The proclamation being made that all men should depart the scaffold, he prepared himself for death, gave away his hat and cap, and money to some attendants that stood near him. When he took leave of the lords, and other gentlemen that stood near him, he entreated the Lord Arundel to prevail with the King that no scandalous writings to defame him, should be published after his death; concluding, "I have a long journey to go, and therefore will take my leave." Then having put off his gown and doublet, he called to the executioner to shew him the axe, which not being presently done; he said, "I pray thee let me see it; don't thou think I am afraid of it;" and having it in his hands he felt along the edge of it, and smiling, said to the sheriff; "This is a sharp medicine, but it is a physician for all diseases." The executioner kneeling down and asking him forgiveness, Sir Walter laying his hand upon his shoulder granted it; and being asked which way he would lay himself on the block, he answered, "So the heart be right, it is no matter which way the head lies." His head was struck off at two blows, his body never shrinking nor moving. His head was shewn on each side of the scaffold, and then put into a red leather bag, and with his velvet night-gown thrown over, was afterwards conveyed away in a mourning coach of his lady's. His body was interred in the chancel of St. Margaret's Church, Westminster, but his head was long preserved in a case by his widow, who survived him twenty-years.

Thus fell Sir Walter Raleigh in the 66th year of his age, a sacrifice to a contemptible administration, and the resentment of a mean prince: A man of so great abilities, that neither that nor the preceding reign produced his equal. His character was a combination of almost every eminent quality; he was the soldier, statesmen, and scholar united, and had he lived with the heroes of antiquity, he would have made a just parallel to Cæsar, and Xenophon, like them being equal master of the sword and the pen. One circumstance must not be omitted, which in a life so full of action as his, is somewhat extraordinary, viz. that whether he was on board his ships upon important and arduous expeditions, busy in court transactions, or pursuing schemes of pleasure, he never failed to dedicate at least four hours every day to study, by which he became so much master of all knowledge, and was enabled, as a poet beautifully expresses it, to enrich the world with his prison-hours[13]. As the sentence of Raleigh blackens but his King, so his memory will be ever dear to the lovers of learning, and of their country: and tho' he makes not a very great figure as a poet, having business of greater importance continually upon his hands; yet it would have been an unpardonable negligence to omit him, as he does honour to the list, and deserves all the encomiums an honest mind can give, or the most masterly pen bestow; and it were to be wished some man of eminent talents, whose genius is turned to biography, (of such at present we are not destitute) would undertake the life of this hero, and by mixing pleasing and natural reflexions with the incidents, as they occur, not a little instruct and delight his countrymen; as Raleigh's life is the amplest field for such an attempt to succeed in.

His works are,

Orders to be observed by the commanders of the fleets and land companies, under the conduct of Sir Walter Raleigh, bound for the South parts of America, given at Plymouth 3d May 1617.

The Dutiful Advice of a Loving Son to his Aged Father.

A Brief Relation of Sir Walter Raleigh's Troubles; with the taking away the lands and castle of Sherburn from him and his heirs, which were granted to the Earl of Bristol.

Maxims of State.

The Prerogatives of Parliament.

The Cabinet Council; containing the Arts of Empires and Mysteries of State.

A Discourse touching a Marriage between Prince Henry of England, and a Daughter of Savoy.

A Discourse touching a War with Spain, and of the Protesting the Netherlands.

A Discourse of the original and Fundamental Cause of natural, arbitrary, necessary, and unnatural War.

A Discourse of the inventions of Ships, Anchors, and Compass,

Observations concerning the Royal Navy, and Sea service. To Prince Henry.

Observations touching Trade and Commerce with the Hollanders and other Nations.

A Voyage for the Discovery of Guiana.

An Apology for the Voyage to Guiana.

A Letter to Lord Carew touching Guiana.

An Introduction to a Breviary of the History of England; with the Reign of William the Conqueror.

The Seat of Government.

Observations on the Causes of the Magnificence and Opulence of Cities.

The Sceptic.

Instructions to his Son.

Letters.

Poems.

I shall give a specimen of Sir Walter's poetry in a piece called the Vision of the Fairy Queen.

Methought I sawe the grave where Laura lay; Within that temple, where the vestal flame; Was wont to burne: and passing by that way, To see that buried dust of living fame, Whose tombe fair love, and fairer virtue kept, All suddenly I sawe the Fairy Queene: At whose approach the soul of Petrarche wept And from henceforth, those Graces were not scene; For they this queen attended; in whose steede Oblivion laid him down in Laura's hearse: Hereat the hardest stones were seen to bleed. And grones of buried ghosts the Heavens did perse; Where Homer's spright did tremble all for 'griefe, And curst th' accesse of that celestial thief.

But the most extraordinary work of Sir Walter's is his History of the World, composed in the Tower; it has never been without its admirers; and I shall close the account of our author's works, by the observation of the ingenious author of the Rambler upon this history, in a paper in which he treats of English Historians, No. 122.--"Raleigh (says he) is deservedly celebrated for the labour of his researches, and the elegance of his stile; but he has endeavoured to exert his judgment more than his genius, to select facts, rather than adorn them. He has produced a historical dissertation, but has seldom risen to the majesty of history."

[Footnote 1: Prince's Worthies of Devon.]

[Footnote 2: Camdeni Annales Elizabethæ, p. 172. Edit. Batav. 1625.]

[Footnote 3: Hooker, fol. 167.]

[Footnote 4: Case's History of Ireland, fol. 367.]

[Footnote 5: Captain Haynes's Report of Sir Humphry Gilbert's voyage to Newfoundland, vol. iii. p. 149.]

[Footnote 6: Oldys, fol. 125.]

[Footnote 7: Birch's life of Raleigh.]

[Footnote 8: Letter of Rowland White, Esq; to Sir Robert Sidney, November 5, 1597.]

[Footnote 9: Oldys, fol. 167.]

[Footnote 10: Oldys, fol. 157.]

[Footnote 11: Raleigh's remains, vol. ii. p. 188.]

[Footnote 12: Letter to his lady from Caliana, November 14, 1617.]

[Footnote 13: Thompson.]

* * * * *

DR. JOHN DONNE

An eminent poet, and divine of the last century, was born in London in the year 1573. His father was a merchant, descended from a very ancient family in Wales, and his mother from Sir Thomas More, Chancellor of England. He was educated in his father's house under a tutor till the 11th year of his age[1], when he was sent to Oxford; at which time it was observed of him, as of the famous Pica Mirandula, that he was rather born wise than made so by study. He was admitted commoner of Harthall, together with his younger brother, in Michaelmas term 1584.[2] By advice of his relations, who were Roman Catholics, he declined taking the oath tendered upon the occasion of taking degrees. After he had studied three years at the University, he removed to Cambridge, and from thence three years after to Lincoln's-Inn. About this time his father died, and left him a portion of 3000£. He became soon distinguished at Lincoln's-Inn, by his rapid progress in the law. He was now eighteen years of age, and as yet had attached himself to no particular denomination of Christians, and as his relations were bigotted to the Romish faith, he was induced to examine the controversy, and to embrace publickly that which appeared to him to be best supported by the authority of the scriptures. He relinquished the study of the law, and devoted himself entirely to that of the controverted points between the Protestants and Catholics, which ended in a thorough conviction of the truths of the reformed religion.

In the years 1596 and 1597 Mr. Donne attended the Earl of Essex in his expeditions against Cadiz and the Azores Islands, and stayed some years in Italy and Spain, and soon after his return to England he was made secretary to lord chancellor Egerton. This probably was intended by his lordship only as an introduction to a more dignified place; for he frequently expressed a high opinion of his secretary's abilities; and when he afterwards, by the sollicitation of his lady, parted with him, he observed that he was fitter to be a secretary to a Monarch than to him. When he was in the lord chancellor's family, he married privately without the consent of her father, the daughter of Sir George More, chancellor of the Garter, and lord lieutenant of the Tower, who so much resented his daughter's marriage without his consent, that he procured our author's dismission from the chancellor's service, and got him committed to prison. Sir George's daughter lived in the lord chancellor's family, and was niece to his lady. Upon Sir George's hearing that his daughter had engaged her heart to Donne, he removed her to his own house in Surry, and friends on both sides endeavoured to weaken their affection for each other, but without success; for having exchanged the most sacred promises, they found means to consummate a private marriage. Our author was not long in obtaining his liberty, but was obliged to be at the expence of a tedious law-suit to recover the possession of his wife, who was forcibly detained from him. At length our poet's extraordinary merit and winning behaviour so far subdued Sir George's resentment, that he used his interest with the Chancellor to have his son-in-law restored to his place; But this request was refused; his lordship observing, that he did not chuse to discharge and re-admit servants at the request of his passionate petitioners. Sir George had been so far reconciled to his daughter and son, as not to deny his paternal blessing, but would contribute nothing towards their support, Mr. Donne's fortune being greatly diminished by the expence of travels, law-suits, and the generosity of his temper; however his wants were in a great measure prevented by the seasonable bounty of their kinsman Sir Francis Wooley, who entertained them several years at his house at Pilford in Surry, where our author had several children born to him. During his residence at Pilford he applied himself with great diligence and success to the study of the civil and canon law, and was about this time sollicited by Dr. Morton, (afterwards lord bishop of Durham) to go into holy Orders, and accept of a Benefice the Doctor would have resigned to him; but he thought proper to refuse this obliging offer. He lived with Sir Francis till that gentleman's death, by whose mediation a perfect reconciliation was effected between Mr. Donne and his father-in-law; who obliged himself to pay our author 800£. at a certain day as his wife's portion, or 20£. quarterly for their maintenance, till it was all paid.

He was incorporated master of arts in the university of Oxford, having before taken the same degree at Cambridge 1610.

About two years after the reconciliation with his father, he was prevailed upon with much difficulty to accompany Sir Robert Drury to Paris[3] Mrs. Donne, being then big with child and in a languishing state of health, strongly opposed his departure, telling him, that her divining soul boaded some ill in his absence; bur Sir Robert's importunity was not to be resisted, and he at last consented to go with him. Mr. Walton gives an account of a vision Mr. Donne had seen after their arrival there, which he says was told him by a person of honour, who had a great intimacy with Mr. Donne; and as it has in it something curious enough, I shall here present it to the reader in that author's own words[4]

"Two days after their arrival there, Mr. Donne was left alone in that room in which Sir Robert and he and some other friends had dined together. To this place Sir Robert returned within half an hour; and as he left so he found Mr. Donne alone, but in such an extasy, and so altered as to his looks, as amazed Sir Robert to behold him; insomuch that he earnestly desired Mr. Donne to declare what had befallen him in the short time of his absence; to which he was not able to make a present answer, but after a long and perplexed pause did at last say: I have seen a dreadful vision since I saw you; I have seen my wife pass twice by me through this room with her hair hanging about her shoulders, and a dead child in her arms. To which Sir Robert replied, sure Sir, you have slept since you saw me, and this is the result of some melancholy dream, which I desire you to forget, for you are now awake. To which Mr. Donne's reply was, I cannot be surer that I now live, than that I have not slept since I saw you; and am as sure that at her second appearing she stopt and looked me in the face and vanished." Rest and sleep had not altered Mr. Donne's opinion next day, for then he confirmed his vision with so deliberate a confidence, that he inclined Sir Robert to a faint belief that the vision was true. It is an observation, that desire and doubt have no rest, for he immediately sent a servant to Drury-House, with a charge to hasten back and bring him word "whether Mrs. Donne was dead or alive, and if alive in what condition she was as to her health." The twelfth day the messenger returned with this account; "that he found and left Mrs. Donne very sad and sick in her bed; and that after a long and dangerous labour she had been delivered of a dead child, and upon examination the birth proved, to be on the same day, and about the very hour Mr. Donne affirmed he saw her pass by him in his chamber."----After Donne's return from France, many of the nobility pressed the King to confer some secular employment upon him; but his Majesty, who considered him as better qualified for the service of the church than the state, rejected their requests, tho' the Earl of Somerset, then the great favourite, joined in petitioning for his preferment. About this time the disputes concerning the oaths of allegiance and supremacy being agitated, Mr. Donne by his Majesty's special command, wrote a treatise on that subject, entitled, Pseudo Martyr, printed in 4to, 1610, with which his Majesty was highly pleased, and being firmly resolved to promote him in the church, he pressed him to enter into holy orders, but he being resolved to qualify himself the better for the sacred office by studying divinity, and the learned languages deferred his entering upon it three years longer, during which time he made a vigorous application to these branches of knowledge, and was then ordained both deacon and priest, by Dr. John King, then bishop of London. Presently after he was appointed one of the chaplains in ordinary to his Majesty, and about the same time attending the King in a progress, he was created Dr. in divinity, by the university of Cambridge, by the particular recommendation of that Prince[5] His abilities and industry in his profession were so eminent, and himself so well beloved, that within the first year of his entering into holy orders, he had the offer of fourteen benefices from persons of quality, but as they lay in the country, his inclination of living in London, made him refuse them all. Upon his return from Cambridge his wife died, and his grief for her loss was so great, that for some time he betook himself to a retired and solitary life: Mrs. Donne died in the year 1617, on the seventh day after the birth of her twelfth child. She left our author in a narrow unsettled state with seven children then living, to her he gave a voluntary assurance, that he would never bring them under the subjection of a step-mother, and this promise he faithfully kept. Soon after the death of his wife, he was chosen preacher of Lincoln's-Inn, and in the year 1619 appointed by King James to attend the earl of Doncaster, in his embassy to the Princes of Germany, and about 14 months after his return to England, he was advanced to the deanery of St. Paul's. Upon the vacancy of the deanery, the King sent an order to Dr. Donne, to attend him the next day at dinner: When his Majesty sat down, he said, "Dr. Donne, I have invited you to dinner, and though you sit not down with me, yet I will carve to you of a dish that I know you love well; for knowing you love London, I do therefore make you dean of St. Paul's, and when I have dined, then do you take your beloved dish home to your study, say grace there to your self, and much good may it do you[6]." Soon after, another vicarage of St. Dunstan in the West, and another benefice fell to Dr. Donne. 'Till the 59th year of his age he continued in perfect health, when being with his eldest daughter in Essex, in 1630, he was taken ill of a fever, which brought on a consumption; notwithstanding which he returned to London, and preached in his turn at court as usual, on the first friday in Lent. He died on the 31st day of March 1631, and was buried in the cathedral church of St. Paul's, where a monument was erected over him. Walton says that amongst other preparations for death, he made use of this very remarkable one. He ordered an urn to be cut in wood, on which was to be placed a board of the exact heighth of his body: this being done, he caused himself to be tied up in a winding sheet in the same manner that dead bodies are. Being thus shrouded, and standing with his eyes shut, and with just so much of the sheet put aside, as might discover his thin, pale, and death-like face, he caused a skilful painter to draw his picture. This piece being finished, was placed near his bed-side, and there remained as his constant remembrance to the hour of his death.

His character as a preacher and a poet are sufficiently seen in his incomparable writings. His personal qualifications were as eminent as those of his mind; he was by nature exceeding passionate, but was apt to be sorry for the excesses of it, and like most other passionate men, was humane and benevolent. His monument was composed of white marble, and carved from the picture just now mentioned of him, by order of his executor Dr. King, bishop of Chichester, who wrote the following inscription,

Johannes Donne, S.T.P.

Post varia studia, quibus ab annis tenerimus fideliter, Neo infeliciter, incubit, Instinctu et impulsu spiritus sancti, monitu et horatu, Regis Jacobi, ordines sacros amplexus, Anno sui Jesu 1614, et fuæ ætatis 42, Decanatu hujus ecclesiæ indutus 27 Novembris 1621, Exutus morte ultimo die Martii 1631. Hic, licet in occiduo cinere, aspicit eum, Cujus nomen est oriens.

Our author's poems consist of, 1. Songs and Sonnets. 2. Epigrams. 3. Elegies. 4. Epithalamiums, or Marriage Songs. 5. Satires. 6. Letters to several Personages. 7. Funeral Elegies. 8. Holy Sonnets. They are printed together in one volume 12mo. 1719, with the addition of elegies upon the author by several persons. Mr. Dryden in his dedication of Juvenal to the earl of Dorset, has given Dr. Donne the character of the greatest wit, though not the greatest poet of our nation, and wishes his satires and other works were rendered into modern language. Part of this wish the world has seen happily executed by the great hand of Mr. Pope. Besides the Pseudo-Martyr, and volume of poems now mentioned, there are extant the following works of Dr. Donne, viz.

Devotions upon emergent Occasions, and several steps in sickness, 4to. London 16. Paradoxes, Problems, Essays, Characters, &c. to which is added a Book of Epigrams, written in Latin by the same author, and translated into English by Dr. Main, as also Ignatius his conclave, a Satire, translated out of the original copy written in Latin by the same author, found lately amongst his own papers, 12mo. London 1653. These pieces are dedicated by the author's son, Dr. John Donne, to Francis Lord Newport.

Three Volumes of Sermons, in folio; the first printed in 1640, the second in 1649, and the third in 1660.

Essays on Divinity, being several disquisitions interwoven with meditations and prayers before he went into holy orders, published after his death by his son, 1651.

Letters to several persons of honour, published in 4to. 1654. There are several of Dr. Donne's letters, and others to him from the Queen of Bohemia, the earl of Carlisle, archbishop Abbot, and Ben Johnson, printed in a book, entitled A Collection of Letters made by Sir Toby Mathews Knt. London 1660, 8vo.

The Ancient history of the Septuagint, translated from the Greek of Aristeus, London 1633, 4to. This translation was revised, and corrected by another hand, and printed 1685 in 8vo.

Declaration of that Paradox or Thesis, that Self-Homicide is not so naturally a sin that it may not be otherwise, London, 1644, 1648, &c. 4to. The original under the author's own hand is preserved in the Bodleian Library. Mr. Walton gives this piece the character of an exact and laborious treatise, 'wherein all the laws violated by that act (self murder) are diligently surveyed and judiciously censured.' The piece from whence I shall take the following quotation, is called a Hymn to God the Father, was composed in the time of his sickness, which breathes a spirit of fervent piety, though no great force of poetry is discoverable in it.

A HYMN to GOD the FATHER.

Wilt thou forgive that sin where I begun, Which was my sin, tho' it were done before? Wilt thou forgive that sin through which I run, And do run still, tho' still I do deplore? When thou hast done, thou hast not done, For I have more.

Wilt thou forgive that in which I have won, Others to sin, and made my sin their door? Wilt thou forgive that sin, which I did shun, A year or two, but wallowed in a score? When thou hast done, thou hast not done, For I have more.

I have a sin of fear, when I have spun, My last thread, I shall perish on the shore; But swear, that at my death, thy son, Shall shine, as he shines now, and heretofore, And having done that, thou hast done, I ask no more.

[Footnote 1: Walton's Life of Donne]

[Footnote 2: Wood vol. v. col. 554.]

[Footnote 3: Walton p. 29].

[Footnote 4: Life ubi supra p. 52].

[Footnote 5: Walton, p. 39, 41.]

[Footnote 6: Walton ut Supra, p. 46]

* * * * *

MICHAEL DRAYTON

A Renowned poet, who lived in the reigns of Elizabeth, James and Charles I. sprung from an ancient family, originally descended from the town of Drayton in Leicestershire,[1] but his parents removing into Warwickshire, he was born there, as he himself declares in his Poly-olbion, Song 13. A little village called Harsul in that county claims the honour of his birth, by which accident it is raised from obscurity; he was born in the year 1573, according to the most accurate computation that can be made from the dates of his works. When he was but very young he gave such discoveries of a rising genius as rendered him a favourite with his tutors, and procured him the patronage of persons of distinction. In the year 1573, being then but about ten years of age, he was page to some honourable person, as may be collected from his own words: In some of his epistles to Henry Reynold esquire, it appears that even then he could construe his Cato, and some other little collections of sentences, which made him very anxious to know, what sort of beings the poets were, and very pressing upon his tutor to make him, if possible, a poet. In consequence of this he was put to the reading of Virgil's Eclogues, and 'till even then, says one of his Biographers, he scorned any thing that looked like a ballad, though written by Elderton himself. This Elderton was a famous comedian in those days, and a facetious companion, who having a great readiness at rhiming, composed many catches on Love and Wine, which were then in great vogue among the giddy and volatile part of the town; but he was not more celebrated for drollery than drinking, so that he obtained the name of the bacchanalian buffoon, the red-nosed ballad-maker, &c. and at last by the excessive indulgence of his favourite vice, he fell a martyr to it 1592, and Mr. Camden has preserved this epitaph on him, which for its humour, I shall here give a place.

Dead drunk, here Elderton does lie; Dead as he is, he still is drie. So of him it may well be said, Here he, but not his thirst, is laid.

If after this our author did not finish his education at the university of Cambridge, it is evident from the testimony of Sir Alton Cohain, his intimate friend, who mentions him in his Choice Poems of several Sorts, that he was for some time a student at Oxford; however, he is not taken notice of by Wood, who has commemorated the most part of the writers who were educated there. In 1588 it appears from his poem, entitled Moses his Birth and Miracles, that he was a spectator at Dover of the Spanish invasion, which was arrogantly stiled Invincible, and it is not improbable that he was engaged in some military employment there, especially as we find some mention made of him, as being in esteem with the gentlemen of the army. He early addicted himself to the amusement of poetry, but all who have written of him, have been negligent in informing us how soon he favoured the public with any production of his own. He was distinguished as a poet about nine or ten years before the death of Queen Elizabeth, but at what time he began to publish cannot be ascertained. In the year 1593, when he was but 30 years of age, he published a collection of his Pastorals; likewise some of the most grave poems, and such as have transmitted his name to posterity with honour, not long after saw the light. His Baron's wars, and England's heroical Epistles; his Downfals of Robert of Normandy; Matilda and Gaveston, for which last he is called by one of his contemporaries, Tragdiographus, and part of his Polyolbion were written before the year 1598, for all which joined with his personal good character; he was highly celebrated at that time, not only for the elegance and sweetness of his expressions, but his actions and manners, which were uniformly virtuous and honourable; he was thus characterised not only by the poet; and florid writers of those days, but also by divines, historians, and other Scholars of the most serious turn and extensive learning. In his younger years he was much beloved and patronized by Sir Walter Aston of Tixhall in Staffordshire, to whom for his kind protection, he gratefully dedicates many of his poems, whereof his Barons Wars was the first, in the spring of his acquaintance, as Drayton himself expresses it; but however, it may be gathered from his works, that his most early dependance was upon another patron, namely, Sir Henry Goodere of Polesworth, in his own county, to whom he has been grateful for a great part of his education, and by whom he was recommended to the patronage of the countess of Bedford: it is no less plain from many of his dedications to Sir Walter Ashton, that he was for many years supported by him, and accommodated with such supplies as afforded him leisure to finish some of his most elaborate compositions; and the author of the Biographia Britannica has told us, 'that it has been alledged, that he was by the interest of the same gentleman with Sir Roger Ashton, one of the Bedchamber to King James in his minority, made in some measure ministerial to an intercourse of correspondence between the young King of of Scots and Queen Elizabeth:' but as no authority is produced to prove this, it is probably without foundation, as poets have seldom inclination, activity or steadiness to manage any state affairs, particularly a point of so delicate a nature.

Our author certainly had fair prospects, from his services, or other testimonies of early attachment to the King's interest, of some preferment, besides he had written Sonnets, in praise of the King as a poet. Thus we see Drayton descending to servile flattery to promote his interest, and praising a man as a poet contrary to his own judgment, because he was a King who was as devoid of poetry as courage.

He welcomed his Majesty to his British dominions with a congratulatory poem printed in 4to, 1603. The same year he was chosen by Sir Walter Aston one of the esquires who attended him, when he was with others created knight of the Bath at the coronation of his Majesty. It no where appears, that ever our author printed those poems in praise of his Majesty; and the ungrateful reception they met, as well as the disagreeable experience of the universal degeneracy at court, so different from that of the Maiden Reign, might extinguish all hope of raising himself there.

In the year 1613 he published the first part of his Poly-olbion. It is a chorographical description of the rivers, mountains, forests, castles; &c. in this Island, intermixed with the remarkable antiquities, rarities, commodities, &c. This part is addressed to Prince Henry, the promising son of James I. by whose encouragement it was written. He had shewed Drayton some singular marks of his favour, and seems to have admitted him as one of his poetical pensioners, but dying before the book was finished, he lost the benefit of his patronage. In this volume there are eighteen songs, illustrated with the notes of the learned Mr. Selden, and there are maps before every song, whereby the cities, mountains, forests, rivers, &c. are represented by the figures of men and women. It is interwoven with many episodes, such as the conquest of this Island by the Romans, the arrival of the Saxons, the Danes and Normans, &c. And bishop Nicholson observes, that Poly-olbion affords a much more accurate account of this kingdom and the Dominion of Wales than could have been expected from the pen of a poet. How poetically our author has conducted and executed his plan, is admirably expressed by the ingenious Dr. James Kirkpatrick, in a beautiful poem of his called the Sea-Piece. Canto II. which I cannot here omit transcribing.

Drayton, sweet ancient bard, his Albion sung, With their own praise, their ecchoing vallies rung; His bounding muse o'er every mountain rode, And ev'ry river warbled where he flow'd.

In 1619 came out his first folio-volume of poems. In 1622 the second part of his Poly-olbion was published, making in all thirty books or songs. In 1622 we find him stiled Poet Laureat: It is probable this appellation of Poet Laureat was not confined and restricted as it is now to his Majesty's Servant known by that title, who at that time it is presumed was Ben Johnson, because it was bestowed promiscuously as a mark of any poet's excellency in his profession.

In 1627 was published the second volume of his poems, containing the battle of Agencourt, in stanzas of eight lines. The mysteries of Queen Margaret in the like stanzas. Nymphidia, or the Court of Faeries. The Quest of Cynthia, another beautiful piece, both reprinted in Dryden's Miscellanies. The Shepherd's Sirena; also the Moon Calf; Satire on the Masculine Affectations of Women, and the the effeminate disguises of the Men, in those times. Elegies upon several occasions. These are introduced by the vision of Ben Johnson on the Muse of his friend Michael Drayton, wherein he very particularly enumerates and praises his several compositions. In 1630 he published another volume of poems in 4to, intitled the Muses Elizium, in ten sundry Nymphals, with three different poems on Noah's flood; Moses his birth and miracles, and David and Goliath. The pastoral poems are addressed to Edward Sackville Earl of Dorset, and Lord Chamberlain, who had now made him one of his family. His divine poems are written in verse and various measures, and are dedicated to the Countess of Dorset; and there are some sublime images in them. At the end of the first divine poem, there are copies of verses in praise of the author, by Bcal Sapperton, in Latin; Mr. John Fletcher, and Thomas Andrews in English; the last of whom is very lavish in displaying the great extent of our poet's fame.

In 1631 Mr. Drayton died, or as it is expressed in his monumental inscription, exchanged his laurel for a crown of glory. He was buried among the poets in Westminster-Abbey, and the handsome table monument of blue marble which was raised over his grave the same year, is adorned with his effigies in busto, laureated. On one side is a crest of Minerva's cap, and Pegasus in a scutcheon on the other. Sir Aston Cokain composed an elegy upon him: and Ben Johnson is said to have been the author of his epitaph, which is written in letters of gold upon his monument, with which I shall here present the reader.

EPITAPH.

Do pious marble let thy readers know What they, and what their children owe To Drayton's name, whose sacred dust We recommend unto thy trust: Protect his memory, and preserve his story, Remain a lasting monument of his glory; And when thy ruins shall disclaim, To be the treasure of his name; His name, that cannot fade shall be, An everlasting monument to thee.

Mr. Drayton enjoyed the friendship and admiration of contemporary wits, and Ben Johnson who was not much disposed to praise, entertained a high opinion of him, and in this epitaph has both immortalized himself and his friend. It is easy for those who are conversant with our author's works to see how much the moderns and even Mr. Pope himself copy Mr. Drayton, and refine upon him in those distinctions which are esteemed the most delicate improvements of our English versification, such as the turns, the pauses, the elegant tautologies, &c. It is not difficult to point out some depredations which have been made on our author by modern writers, however obsolete some of them may have reckoned him. In one of his heroical epistles, that of King John to Matilda, he has the following lines.

Th' Arabian bird which never is but one, Is only chast because she is alone, But had our mother nature made them two, They would have done, as Doves and Sparrows do.

These are ascribed to the Earl of Rochester, who was unexceptionably a great wit. They are not otherwise materially altered, than by the transposure of the rhimes in the first couplet, and the retrenchment of the measure in both. As the sphere in which this author moved was of the middle sort, neither raised to such eminence as to incur danger, nor so deprest with poverty as to be subject to meanness, his life seems to have flowed with great tranquility; nor are there any of those vicissitudes and distresses which have so frequently fallen to the lot of the inspired tribe. He was honoured with the patronage of men of worth, tho' not of the highest stations; and that author cannot be called a mean one, on whom so great a man as Selden (in many respects the most finished scholar that ever appeared in our nation) was pleased to animadvert. His genius seems to have been of the second rate, much beneath Spencer and Sidney, Shakespear and Johnson, but highly removed above the ordinary run of versifyers. We shall quote a few lines from his Poly-olbion as a specimen of his poetry.

When he speaks of his native county, Warwickshire, he has the following lines;

Upon the mid-lands now, th' industrious Muse doth fall, That shire which we the heart of England well may call, As she herself extends the midst (which is decreed) Betwixt St. Michael's Mount, and Berwick bordering Tweed, Brave Warwick, that abroad so long advanc'd her Bear, By her illustrious Earls, renowned every where, Above her neighbr'ing shires which always bore her head.

[Footnote 1: Burton's Description of Leicestershire, p. 16, 22]

* * * * *

Dr. RICHARD CORBET, Bishop of NORWICH,

Was son of Mr. Vincent Corbet, and born at Ewelb in Surry, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. He was educated at Westminster school, and from thence was sent to Oxford, 1597, where he was admitted a student in Christ-church. In 1605, being then esteemed one of the greatest wits of the University, he took the degree of Master of Arts, and afterwards entering into holy orders, he became a popular preacher, and much admired by people of taste and learning. His shining wit, and remarkable eloquence recommended him to King James I, who made him one of his chaplains in ordinary, and in 1620 promoted him to the deanery of Christ's-church; about which time he was made doctor of divinity, vicar of Cassington, near Woodstock, in Oxfordshire, and prebendary of Bedminster-secunda, in the church of Sarum.[1]

While he was dean of Christ's church, he made verses on a play acted before the King at Woodstock, called Technogamia, or the marriage of Arts, written by Barten Holiday the poet, who afterwards translated Juvenal. The ill-success it met with in the representation occasioned several copies of verses, among which, to use Anthony Wood's words, "Corbet dean of Christ's-church put in for one, who had that day it seems preached before the King, with his band starched clean, for which he was reproved by the graver sort; but those who knew him well took no notice of it, for they have several times said, that he loved to the last boy's play very well." He was elected, 1629, Bishop of Oxford, in the room of Dr. Hewson, translated to the See of Durham. Upon the promotion of Dr. White to Ely he was elected bishop of Norwich.

This prelate married Alice, daughter of Dr. Leonard Hutton, vicar of Flower in Northamptonshire, and he mentions that village in a poem of his called Iter Boreale, or a Journey Northward. Our author was in that celebrated class of poets, Ben Johnson, Dr. Donne, Michael Drayton, and others, who wrote mock commendatory verses on Tom Coryate's [2] Crudities. He concurred likewise with other poets of the university in inviting Ben Johnson to Oxford, where he was created Master of Arts. There is extant in the Musæum Ashmoleanum, a funeral oration in Latin, by Dr. Corbet, on the death of Prince Henry, Anno Dom. 1612;[3] This great man died in the year 1635, and was buried the upper-end of the choir of the cathedral church of Norwich.

He was very hospitable and a generous encourager of all public designs. When in the year 1634 St. Paul's cathedral was repaired, he not only contributed himself, but was very diligent in procuring contributions from others. His works are difficult to be met with, but from such of his poems as we have had occasion to read, he seems to have been a witty, delicate writer, and to have had a particular talent for panegyric. Wood says, a collection of his poems was published under the title of Poetica Stromata, in 8vo. London 1647. In his Iter Boreale, or Journey Northward, we meet with a fine moral reflexion on the burial place of Richard III. and Cardinal Wolsey, who were both interred at Leicester; with which we shall present the reader as a specimen of his poetry.

Is not usurping Richard buried here, That King of hate, and therefore slave of fear? Dragg'd from the fatal Bosworth field where he, Lost life, and what he liv'd for,--Cruelty: Search, find his name, but there is none: O Kings, Remember whence your power and vastness springs; If not as Richard now, so may you be, Who hath no tomb, but scorn and memory. And tho' from his own store, Wolsey might have A Palace or a College for his grave, Yet here he lies interred, as if that all Of him to be remembered were his fall. Nothing but Earth on Earth, no pompous weight Upon him, but a pebble or a quoit. If thou art thus neglected, what shall we, Hope after death, that are but shreds of thee!

The author of the Biographia Britanica tells us, that he found in a blank leaf of his poems, some manuscript verses, in honour of Bishop Corbet signed J.C. with which, as they are extremely pretty, and make a just representation of his poetical character, we shall conclude this life.

In flowing wit, if verses writ with ease, If learning void of pedantry can please, If much good humour joined to solid sense, And mirth accompanied with innocence, Can give a poet a just right to fame, Then Corbet may immortal honour claim; For he these virtues had, and in his lines, Poetic and heroic spirit shines; Tho' bright yet solid, pleasant, but not rude, With wit and wisdom equally endued. Be silent Muse, thy praises are too faint, Thou want'st a power this prodigy to paint, At once a poet, prelate, and a saint.

[Footnote 1: Athen. Oxon. vol. I. col. 600--I.]

[Footnote 2: Winstanley.]

[Footnote 3: Wood. ubi. supra. fol. 509.]

* * * * *

EDWARD FAIRFAX.

All the biographers of the poets have been extremely negligent with respect to this great genius. Philips so far overlooks him, that he crowds him into his supplement, and Winstanley, who followed him, postpones our author till after the Earl of Rochester. Sir Thomas Pope Blount makes no mention of him; and Mr. Jacob, so justly called the Blunderbus of Law, informs us he wrote in the time of Charles the first, tho' he dedicates his translation of Tasso to Queen Elizabeth. All who mention him, do him the justice to allow he was an accomplished genius, but then it is in a way so cool and indifferent, as shews that they had never read his works, or were any way charmed with the melody of his verses. It was impossible Mr. Dryden could be so blind to our author's beauties; accordingly we find him introducing Spencer and Fairfax almost on the level, as the leading authors of their times; nay tacitly yielding the palm in point of harmony to the last; by asserting that Waller confessed he owed the music of his numbers to Fairfax's Godfrey of Bulloign. The truth is, this gentleman is perhaps the only writer down to Sir William Davenant, who needs no apology to be made for him, on account of the age in which he lived. His diction is so pure, elegant, and full of graces, and the turn of his lines so perfectly melodious, that one cannot read it without rapture; and we can scarcely imagine the original Italian has greatly the advantage in either, nor is it very probable that while Fairfax can be read, any author will attempt a new translation of Tasso with success. Mr. Fairfax was natural son of Sir Thomas Fairfax of Denton, and natural brother to Sir Thomas Fairfax, the first who was created Baron of Cameron. His younger brother was knighted, and slain at the memorable siege of Ostend, 1601, of which place he was some time governor[1]. When he married is not on record, or in what circumstances he lived: But it is very probable, his father took care to support him in a manner suitable to his own quality, and his son's extraordinary merit, he being always stiled Edward Fairfax, Esq; of Newhall in Fuystone, in the forest of Knaresborough. The year in which he died is likewise uncertain, and the last account we hear of him is, that he was living in 1631, which shews, that he was then pretty well advanced in years, and as I suppose gave occasion to the many mistakes that have been made as to the time of his writing. Besides the translation of Godfrey of Bulloigne, Mr. Fairfax wrote the history of Edward the Black Prince, and certain eclogues, which Mrs. Cooper tells us are yet in manuscript, tho' (says she) "by the indulgence of the family, from whom I had likewise the honour of these memoirs, I am permitted to oblige the world with a specimen of their beauties." He wrote also a book called, Dæmonologie, in which he shews a great deal of ancient reading and knowledge; it is still in manuscript, and in the beginning he gives this character of himself[2]. "I am in religion neither a fantastic Puritan, nor superstitious Papist, but so settled in conscience, that I have the sure ground of God's word to warrant all I believe, and the commendable ordinances of our English Church, to approve all I practise; In which course I live a faithful Christian, and an obedient, and so teach my family." The eclogues already mentioned are twelve in number, all of them written after the accession of King James to the throne of England, on important subjects, relating to the manners, characters, and incidents of the times he lived in: they are pointed with many fine strokes of satire, dignified with noble instructions of morality, and policy, to those of the highest rank, and some modest hints to Majesty itself. The learning contained in these eclogues is so various and extensive, lhat according to the opinion of his son, who has written long annotations on each, no man's reading besides his own was sufficient to explain his references effectually. As his translation of Tasso is in every body's hand, we shall take the specimen from the fourth eclogue, called Eglon and Alexis, as I find it in Mrs. Cooper's collection.

EGLON and ALEXIS.

Whilst on the rough, and heath-strew'd wilderness His tender flocks the rasps, and bramble crop, Poor shepherd Eglon, full of sad distress! By the small stream, fat on a mole-hill top: Crowned with a wreath of Heban branches broke: Whom good Alexis found, and thus bespoke.

ALEXIS.

My friend, what means this silent lamentation? Why on this field of mirth, this realm of smiles Doth the fierce war of grief make such invasion? Witty Timanthes[3] had he seen, e're whiles, What face of woe thy cheek of sadness bears, He had not curtained Agamemnon's tears. The black ox treads not yet upon thy toe, Nor thy good fortune turns her wheel awaye; Thy flocks increase, and thou increasest so, Thy straggling goates now mild, and gentlely; And that fool love thou whipst away with rods; Then what sets thee, and joy so far at odds?

[Footnote 1: Muses Library, p. 343.]

[Footnote 2: Muses Library, p. 344.]

[Footnote 3: Timanthes the painter, who designing the sacrifice of Iphigenia, threw a veil over the face of Agamemnon, not able to express a father's anguish.]

* * * * *

THOMAS RANDOLPH,

A Poet of no mean genius, was born at Newnham, near Daintry in Northamptonshire, the 15th of June, 1605; he was son of William Randolph of Hams, near Lewes in Sussex, was educated at Westminster school, and went from thence to Trinity College in Cambridge, 1623, of which he became a fellow; he commenced Master of Arts, and in this degree was incorporated at Oxon[1], became famous (says Wood) for his ingenuity, being the adopted son of Ben Johnson, and accounted one of the most pregnant wits of his age. The quickness of his parts was discovered early; when he was about nine or ten years old he wrote the History of the Incarnation of Our Saviour in verse, which is preserved in manuscript under his own hand writing. Randolph receives from Langbaine the highest encomium. He tells his readers that they need expect no discoveries of thefts, for this author had no occasion to practice plagiary, having so large a fund of wit of his own, that he needed not to borrow from others. Were a foreigner to form a notion of the merit of the English poets from reading Langbaine, they would be in raptures with Randolph and Durfey, and others of their class, while Dryden, and the first-rate wits, would be quite neglected; Langbaine is so far generous, that he does all he can to draw obscure men into light, but then he cannot be acquitted of envy, for endeavouring to shade the lustre of those whose genius has broke through obscurity without his means, and he does no service to his country while he confines his panegyric to mean versifiers, whom no body can read without a certain degree of contempt.

Our author had done nothing in life it seems worth preserving, or at least that cotemporary historians thought so, for there is little to be learned concerning him. Wood says he was like other poets, much addicted to libertine indulgence, and by being too free with his constitution in the company of his admirers, and running into fashionable excesses, he was the means of shortening his own days. He died at little Haughton in Northamptonshire, and was buried in an isle adjoining to the church in that place, on the 17th of March, 1634. He had soon after a monument of white marble, wreathed about with laurel, erected over his grave at the charge of lord Hatton of Kirby. Perhaps the greatest merit which this author has to plead, is his attachment to Ben Johnson, and admiration of him: Silius Italicus performed an annual visit to Virgil's tomb, and that circumstance reflects more honour upon him in the eyes of Virgil's admirers, than all the works of that author. Langbaine has preserved a monument of Randolph's friendship for Ben Johnson, in an ode he addressed to him, occasioned by Mr. Feltham's severe attack upon him, which is particularized in the life of Ben; from this ode we shall quote a stanza or two, before I give an account of his dramatic compositions.

Ben, do not leave the stage, 'Cause 'tis a loathsome age; For pride, and impudence will grow too bold, When they shall hear it told, They frighted thee; stand high as is thy cause, Their hiss is thy applause. Most just were thy disdain, Had they approved thy vein: So thou for them, and they for thee were born; They to incense, and thou too much to scorn.

Wilt thou engross thy store Of wheat, and pour no more, Because their bacon brains have such a taste As more delight in mast? No! set them forth a board of dainties, full As thy best muse can cull; Whilst they the while do pine, And thirst 'midst all their wine, What greater plague can hell itself devize, Than to be willing thus to tantalize?

The reader may observe that the stanzas are reasonably smooth, and mark him a tolerable versifier. I shall now give some account of his plays.

1. Amyntas, or the Impossible Dowry, a Pastoral acted before the King and Queen at Whitehall. 2. Aristippus, or the Jovial Philosopher; presented in a private shew, to which is added the Conceited Pedlar. 3. Jealous Lovers, a Comedy, presented to their Majesties at Cambridge, by the students of Trinity College. This play Langbaine thinks the best of Randolph's, as appears by an epilogue written by Mrs. Behn, and printed in her collection of poems published in 8vo, 1681; it was revised and printed by the author in his life-time, being ushered into the world with copies of verses by some of the best wits, both of Oxford and Cambridge. 4. Muses Looking Glass, a Comedy, which by the author was first called The Entertainment; as appears from Sir Aston Cokaine's Works, who writ an encomium on it, and Mr. Richard West said of it,

Who looks within this clearer glass will say, At once he writ an ethic tract and play.

All these dramatic pieces and poems were published in 1668; he translated-likewise the second Epod of Horace, several pieces out of Claudian, and likewise a dramatic piece from Aristophanes, which he calls Hey for Honesty, Down with Knavery, a pleasant comedy printed in 4to. London 1651. A gentleman of St. John's College, writes thus in honour of our author;

Immortal Ben is dead, and as that ball, On Ida toss'd so in his crown, by all The infantry of wit. Vain priests! that chair Is only fit for his true son and heir. Reach here thy laurel: Randolph, 'tis thy praise: Thy naked skull shall well become the bays. See, Daphne courts thy ghost; and spite of fate, Thy poems shall be Poet Laureate.

[Footnote 1: Athen. Oxon. p. 224.]

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GEORGE CHAPMAN

Was born in the year 1557, but of what family he is descended, Mr. Wood has not been able to determine; he was a man in very high reputation in his time, and added not a little to dramatic excellence. In 1574, being well grounded in grammar learning, he was sent to the university, but it is not clear whether to Oxford or Cambridge; it is certain that he was sometime in Oxford, and was taken notice of for his great skill in the Latin and Greek languages, but not in logic and philosophy, which is the reason it may be presumed, that he took no degree there. After this he came to London, and contracted an acquaintance, as Wood says, with Shakespear, Johnson, Sidney, Spenser and Daniel. He met with a very warm patronage from Sir Thomas Walsingham, who had always had a constant friendship for him, and after that gentleman's decease, from his son Thomas Walsingham, esquire, whom Chapman loved from his birth. He was also respected, and held in esteem by Prince Henry, and Robert earl of Somerset, but the first being untimely snatched away, and the other justly disgraced for an assassination[1], his hopes of preferment were by these means frustrated; however, he was a servant either to King James I. or Queen Anne his consort, through whose reign he was highly valued by all his old friends, only there are some insinuations, that as his reputation grew, Ben Johnson, naturally haughty and insolent, became jealous of him, and endeavoured to suppress, as much as possible, his rising fame[2], as Ben, after the death of Shakespear, was without a rival.

Chapman was a man of a reverend aspect, and graceful manner, religious and temperate, qualities which seldom meet (says Wood) in a poet, and was so highly esteemed by the clergy, that some of them have said, "that as Musæus, who wrote the lives of Hero and Leander, had two excellent scholars, Thamarus and Hercules, so had he in England in the latter end of Queen Elizabeth, two excellent imitators in the same argument and subject, viz. Christopher Marlow, and George Chapman." Our author has translated the Iliad of Homer, published in folio, and dedicated to Prince Henry, which is yet looked upon with some respect. He is said to have had the spirit of a poet in him, and was indeed no mean genius: Pope somewhere calls him an enthusiast in poetry. He likewise translated the Odyssey, and the Battle of Frogs and Mice, which were published in 1614, and dedicated to the earl of Somerset; to this work is added Hymns and Epigrams, written by Homer, and translated by our author. He likewise attempted some part of Hesiod, and continued a translation of Musæus Ærotopegnion de Herone & Leandro. Prefixed to this work, are some anecdotes of the life of Musæus, taken by Chapman from the collection of Dr. William Gager, and a dedication to the most generally ingenious and only learned architect of his time, Inigo Jones esquire, Surveyor of his Majesty's Works. At length, says Wood, this reverend and eminent poet, having lived 77 years in this vain, transitory world, made his last exit in the parish of St. Giles's in the Fields, near London, on the 12th day of May, 1655, and was buried in the yard on the South side of the church in St. Giles's: soon after a monument was erected over his grave, built after the manner of the old Romans, at the expence, and under the direction of his much loved worthy friend Inigo Jones, whereon is this engraven, Georgius Chapmannus, Poeta Homericus, Philosophus verus (etsi Christianus Poeta) plusquam Celebris, &c.

His dramatic works are,

All Fools, a Comedy, presented at the Black Fryars, and afterwards before his Majesty King James I. in the beginning of his reign, and printed in 4to. London 1605. The plot is taken, and the characters formed upon Terence's Heautontimorumenos. The Prologue and Epilogue writ in blank verse, shew that in these days persons of quality, and they that thought themselves good critics, in place of fitting in the boxes, as they now do, sat on the stage; what influence those people had on the meanest sort of the audience, may be seen by the following lines in the Prologue written by Chapman himself.

Great are the gifts given to united heads; To gifts, attire, to fair attire the stage Helps much; for if our other audience see, You on the stage depart before we end, Our wit goes with you all, and we are fools.

Alphonsus Emperor of Germany, a Tragedy, often acted with applause at a private house in Black Fryars, by the servants of King Charles I. printed in 4to. London 1654. This play, though it bears the name of Alphonsus, was writ, as Langbaine supposes, in honour of the English nation, in the person of Richard, Earl of Cornwal, son to King John, and brother to Henry III. He was chosen King of the Romans in 1527. About this time Alphonsus, the French King was chosen by other electors. Though this King was accounted by some a pious prince, yet our author represents him as a bloody tyrant, and, contrary to other historians, brings him to an unfortunate end, he supposing him to be killed by Alexander, son to Lorenzo de Cipres his secretary, in revenge of his father, who was poisoned by him, and to compleat his revenge, he makes him first deny his Saviour in hopes of life, and then stabs him, glorying that he had at once destroyed both body and soul. This passage is related by several authors, as Bolton's Four last Things, Reynolds of the Passions, Clark's Examples, &c.

Blind Beggar of Alexandria, a Comedy, printed 1598, dedicated to the earl of Nottingham, Lord High Admiral. Bussy d'Amboise, a Tragedy, often presented at St. Paul's, in the reign of King James I. and since the Restoration with great applause; for the plot see Thuanus, Jean de Serres, and Mezeray, in the reign of King Henry III. of France. This is the play of which Mr. Dryden speaks, when in his preface to the Spanish Fryar, he resolves to burn one annually to the memory of Ben Johnson. Some have differed from Mr. Dryden in their opinion of this piece, but as the authorities who have applauded, are not so high as Mr. Dryden's single authority, it is most reasonable to conclude not much in its favour.

Bussy d'Amboise his Revenge, a Tragedy, printed 1613, and dedicated to Sir Thomas Howard. This play is generally allowed to fall short of the former of that name, yet the author, as appears from his dedication, had a higher opinion of it himself, and rails at those who dared to censure it; it is founded upon fiction, which Chapman very justly defends, and says that there is no necessity for any play being founded on truth.

Conspiracy and Tragedy of Charles, Duke of Byron, Marshal of France, in two plays, acted at the Black Fryars in the reign of King James I. printed in 4to. London 1608, dedicated to Sir Thomas Walsingham.

Cæsar and Pompey, a Roman Tragedy, printed 1631, and dedicated to the Earl of Middlesex.

Gentleman Usher, a Comedy, printed in 4to. London 1606. We are not certain whether this play was ever acted, and it has but an indifferent character.

Humourous Day's Mirth, a Comedy; this is a very tolerable play.

Mask of the Two Honourable Houses, or Inns of Court, the Middle-Temple, and Lincoln's-Inn, performed before the King at Whitehall, on Shrove Monday at night, being the 15th of February, 1613, at the celebration of the Royal Nuptials of the Palsgrave, and the Princess Elizabeth, &c. with a description of their whole shew, in the manner of their march on horseback, from the Master of the Rolls's house to the court, with all their noble consorts, and shewful attendants; invented and fashioned, with the ground and special structure of the whole work by Inigo Jones; this Mask is dedicated to Sir Edward Philips, then Master of the Rolls. At the end of the Masque is printed an Epithalamium, called a Hymn for the most happy Nuptials of the Princess Elizabeth, &c.

May-Day, a witty Comedy, acted at the Black Fryars, and printed in 4to. 1611.

Monsieur d'Olive, a Comedy, acted by her Majesty's children at the Black Fryars, printed in 4to. 1606.

Revenge for Honour, a Tragedy, printed 1654.

Temple, a Masque.

Two Wise-men, and all the rest Fools, or a Comical Moral, censuring the follies of that age, printed in London 1619. This play is extended to seven acts, a circumstance which Langbaine says he never saw in any other, and which, I believe, has never been practised by any poet, ancient or modern, but himself.

Widow's Tears, a Comedy, often presented in the Black and White Fryars, printed in 4to. London 1612; this play is formed upon the story of the Ephesian Matron. These are all the plays of our author, of which we have been able to gain any account; he joined with Ben Johnson and Marston in writing a Comedy called Eastward-Hoe; this play has been since revived by Tate, under the title of Cuckolds Haven. It has been said that for some reflections contained in it against the Scotch nation; Ben Johnson narrowly escaped the pillory. See more of this, page 237.

[Footnote 1: See the Life of Overbury.]

[Footnote 2: Wood's Athen. Oxon.]

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BEN JOHNSON,

One of the best dramatic poets of the 17th century, was descended from a Scots family, his grandfather, who was a gentleman, being originally of Annandale in that kingdom, whence he removed to Carlisle, and afterwards was employed in the service of King Henry VIII. His father lost his estate under Queen Mary, in whose reign he suffered imprisonment, and at last entered into holy orders, and died about a month before our poet's birth[1], who was born at Westminster, says Wood, in the year 1574. He was first educated at a private school in the church of St. Martin's in the Fields, afterwards removed to Westminster school, where the famous Camden was master. His mother, who married a bricklayer to her second husband, took him from school, and obliged him to work at his father-in-law's trade, but being extremely averse to that employment, he went into the low countries, where he distinguished himself by his bravery, having in the view of the army killed an enemy, and taken the opima spolia from him.

Upon his return to England, he applied himself again to his former studies, and Wood says he was admitted into St. John's College in the university of Cambridge, though his continuance there seems to have been but short. He had some time after this the misfortune to fight a duel, and kill his adversary, who only slightly wounded him in the arm; for this he was imprisoned, and being cast for his life, was near execution; his antagonist, he said, had a sword ten inches longer than his own.

While he lay in prison, a popish priest visited him, who found his inclination quite disengaged as to religion, and therefore took the opportunity to impress him with a belief of the popish tenets. His mind then naturally melancholy, clouded with apprehensions, and the dread of execution, was the more easily imposed upon. However, such was the force of that impression, that for twelve years after he had gained his liberty, he continued in the catholic faith, and at last turned Protestant, whether from conviction or fashion cannot be determined; but when the character of Ben is considered, probability will be upon the side of the latter, for he took every occasion to ridicule religion in his plays, and make it his sport in conversation. On his leaving the university he entered himself into an obscure playhouse, called the Green Curtain, somewhere about Shoreditch or Clerkenwell. He was first an actor, and probably only a strolling one; for Decker in his Satyromastix, a play published in 1602, and designed as a reply to Johnson's Poetaster, 'reproaches him with having left the occupation of a mortar trader to turn actor, and with having put up a supplication to be a poor journeyman player, in which he would have continued, but that he could not set a good face upon it, and so was cashiered. Besides, if we admit that satire to be built on facts, we learn further, that he performed the part of Zuliman at the Paris Garden in Southwark, and ambled by a play-waggon on the high-way, and took mad Jeronymo's part to get service amongst the mimicks[2].' Shakespear is said to have first introduced him to the world, by recommending a play of his to the stage, at the time when one of the players had rejected his performance, and told him it would be of no service to their company[3]. His first printed dramatic performance was a Comedy, entitled Every Man in his Humour, acted in the year 1598, which being soon followed by several others, as his Sejanus, his Volpone, his Silent Woman, and his Alchymist, gained him so high a reputation, that in October 1619, upon the death of Mr. Samuel Daniel he was made Poet Laureat to King James I. and on the 19th of July, the same year, he was created (says Wood) Master of Arts at Oxford, having resided for some time at Christ Church in that university. He once incurred his Majesty's displeasure for being concerned with Chapman and Marston in writing a play called Eastward-Hoe, wherein they were accused of having reflected upon the Scotch nation. Sir James Murray represented it to the King, who ordered them immediately to be imprisoned, and they were in great danger of losing their ears and noses, as a correction of their wantonness; nor could the most partial have blamed his Majesty, if the punishment had been inflicted; for surely to ridicule a country from which their Sovereign had just come, the place of his nativity, and the kingdom of his illustrious forefathers, was a most daring insult. Upon their releasement from prison, our poet gave an entertainment to his friends, among whom were Camden and Selden; when his aged mother drank to him[4] and shewed him a paper of poison which she had designed, if the sentence of punishment had been inflicted, to have mixed with his drink after she had first taken a potion of it herself.

Upon the accession of Charles I. to the crown, he wrote a petition to that Prince, craving, that as his royal father had allowed him an annual pension of a hundred marks, he would make them pounds. In the year 1629 Ben fell sick, and was then poor, and lodged in an obscure alley; his Majesty was supplicated in his favour, who sent him ten guineas. When the messenger delivered the sum, Ben took it in his hand, and said, "His Majesty has sent me ten guineas because I am poor and live in an alley, go and tell him that his soul lives in an alley."

He had a pension from the city of London, from several of the nobility and gentry, and particularly from Mr. Sutton the founder of the Charterhouse.[5] In his last sickness he often repented of the profanation of scripture in his plays. He died the 16th of August 1637, in the 63d year of his age, and was interred three days after in Westminster Abbey; he had several children who survived him.

Ben Johnson conceived so high an opinion of Mr. Drummond of Hawthornden by the letters which passed between them, that he undertook a journey into Scotland, and resided some time at Mr. Drummond's seat there, who has printed the heads of their conversation, and as it is a curious circumstance to know the opinion of so great a man as Johnson of his cotemporary writers, these heads are here inserted.

"Ben, says Mr. Drummond, was eat up with fancies; he told me, that about the time the Plague raged in London, being in the country at Sir Robert Cotton's house with old Camden, he saw in a vision his eldest son, then a young child, and at London, appear unto him, with the mark of a bloody cross on his forehead, as if it had been cut with a sword; at which amazed, he prayed unto God, and in the morning he came to Mr. Camden's chamber to tell him; who persuaded him, it was but an apprehension, at which he should not be dejected. In the mean time, there came letters from his wife of the death of that boy in the plague. He appeared to him, he said, of a manly shape, and of that growth he thinks he shall be at the resurrection. He said, he spent many a night in looking at his great toe, about which he had seen Tartars, and Turks, Romans and Carthaginians fight in his imagination.

"That he had a design to write an epic poem, and was to call it Chrologia; or the Worthies of his Country, all in couplets, for he detested all other rhime. He said he had written a discourse on poetry, both against Campion and Daniel, especially the last, where he proves couplets to be the best sort of verses." His censure of the English poets was as follows:

"That Sidney did not keep a decorum, in making every one speak as well as himself. Spenser's stanza pleased him not, nor his matter; the meaning of the allegory of the Fairy Queen he delivered in writing to Sir Walter Raleigh, which was, that by the bleating beast he understood the Puritans; and by the false Duessa, the Queen of Scots. Samuel Daniel was a good honest man, had no children, and was no poet, and that he had wrote the civil wars without having one battle in all his book. That Drayton's Poly-olbion, if he had performed what he promised to write, the Deeds of all the Worthies, had been excellent. That Sylvester's translation of Du Bartas was not well done, and that he wrote his verses before he understood to confer; and those of Fairfax were not good. That the translations of Homer and Virgil in long Alexandrines were but prose. That Sir John Harrington's Ariosto of all translations was the worst. He said Donne was originally a poet; his grandfather on the mother's side, was Heywood the epigramatist. That Donne for not being understood would perish. He affirmed, that Donne wrote all his best pieces before he was twenty years of age. He told Donne, that his Anniversary was prophane, and fall of blasphemies, that if it had been written on the virgin Mary it had been tolerable. To which Donne answered, that he described the idea of a woman but not as she was. That Sir Walter Raleigh esteemed fame more than conscience; the best wits in England were employed in making his history. Ben himself had written a piece to him on the Punic war, which he altered and put in his book. He said there was no such ground for an heroic poem, as King Arthur's fiction, and Sir Philip Sidney had an intention of turning all his Arcadia to the stories of King Arthur. He said Owen was a poor pedantic school-master, sucking his living from the posteriors of little children, and has nothing good in him, his epigrams being bare narrations. He loved Fletcher, Beaumont and Chapman. That Sir William Alexander was not half kind to him, and neglected him because a friend to Drayton. That Sir R. Ayton loved him dearly; he fought several times with Marston, and says that Marston wrote his father in Law's preachings, and his father in law his comedies."

Mr. Drummond has represented the character of our author in a very disadvantageous, though perhaps not in a very unjust light. "That he was a great lover and praiser of himself; a contemner and scorner of others, rather chusing to lose a friend than a jest; jealous of every word and action of those about him, especially after drink, which was one of the elements in which he lived; a dissembler of the parts which reigned in him; a bragger of some good that he wanted: he thought nothing right, but what either himself or some of his friends had said or done. He was passionately kind and angry; careless either to gain or to keep, vindictive, but if he was well answered, greatly chagrined; interpreting the best sayings and deeds often to the worst. He was for any religion, being versed in all; his inventions were smooth and easy, but above all he excelled in translation. In short, he was in his personal character the very reverse of Shakespear, as surly, ill-natured, proud and disagreeable, as Shakespear with ten times his merit was gentle, good-natured, easy and amiable." He had a very strong memory; for he tells himself in his discoveries that he could in his youth have repeated all that he had ever written, and so continued till he was past forty; and even after that he could have repeated whole books that he had read, and poems of some select friends, which he thought worth remembring.

Mr. Pope remarks, that when Ben got possesion of the stage, he brought critical learning into vogue, and that this was not done without difficulty, which appears from those frequent lessons (and indeed almost declamations) which he was forced to prefix to his first plays, and put into the mouths of his actors, the Grex, Chorus, &c. to remove the prejudices and inform the judgement of his hearers. Till then the English authors had no thoughts of writing upon the model of the ancients: their tragedies were only histories in dialogue, and their comedies followed the thread of any novel, as they found it, no less implicitly than if it had been true history. Mr. Selden in his preface to his titles of honour, stiles Johnson, his beloved friend and a singular poet, and extols his special worth in literature, and his accurate judgment. Mr. Dryden gives him the title of the greatest man of the last age, and observes, that if we look upon him, when he was himself, (for his last plays were but his dotages) he was the most learned and judicious writer any theatre ever had; that he was a most severe judge of himself as well as others; that we cannot say he wanted wit, but rather that he was frugal of it; that in his works there is little to be retrenched or altered; but that humour was his chief province.

Ben had certainly no great talent for versification, nor does he seem to have had an extraordinary ear; his verses are often wanting in syllables, and sometimes have too many.

I shall quote some lines of his poem to the memory of Shakespear, before I give a detail of his pieces.

To the memory of my beloved the author Mr. WILLIAM SHAKESPEAR, and what he hath left us.

To draw no envy (Shakespear) on thy name, Am I thus ample to thy book and fame: While I confess thy writings to be such, As neither man nor muse can praise too much. 'Tis true, and all men's suffrage. But these ways Were not the paths I meant unto thy praise: For silliest ignorance, on these may light, Which when it sounds at best but ecchoes right; As blind affection, which doth ne'er advance The truth; but gropes, and urgeth all by chance; A crafty malice might pretend his praise, And think to ruin where it seem'd to raise. These are, as some infamous baud or whore, Should praise a matron: What could hurt her more? But thou art proof against them, and indeed, Above th' ill fortune of them, or the need. I therefore will begin. Soul of the age! Th' applause, delight, the wonder of the stage! My Shakespear rise; I will not lodge thee by, Chaucer, or Spenser, or bid Beaumont lye, A little further to make thee a room: Thou art a monument without a tomb, And art alive still, while the book doth live, And we have wits to read, and praise to give. That I not mix thee so, my brain excuses; I mean with great but disproportion'd muses: For if I thought, my judgment were of years, I should commit thee surely with thy peers, And tell how far thou did'st our Lily outshine, Or sporting Kid, or Marlow's mighty line.

He then goes on to challenge all antiquity to match Shakespear; but the poetry is so miserable, that the reader will think the above quotation long enough.

Ben has wrote above fifty several pieces which we may rank under the species of dramatic poetry; of which I shall give an account in order, beginning with one of his best comedies.

1. [6] Alchymist, a comedy, acted in the year 1610. Mr. Dryden supposes this play was copied from the comedy of Albumazer, as far as concerns the Alchymist's character; as appears from his prologue prefixed to that play, when it was revived in his time.

2. Bartholomew Fair, a comedy, acted at the Hope on the Bankside, October 31, in 1614, by the lady Elizabeth's servants, and then dedicated to James I.

3. Cataline's conspiracy, a tragedy, first acted in the year 1611. In this our author has translated a great part of Salust's history; and it is when speaking of this play, that Dryden says, he did not borrow but commit depredations upon the ancients. Tragedy was not this author's talent; he was totally without tenderness, and was so far unqualified for tragedy.

4. Challenge at Tilt, at a Marriage, printed 1640.

5. Christmas's Masque, presented at court 1616.

6. Cloridia, or the Rites of Cloris and her Nymphs, personated in a Masque at court, by the Queen and her Ladies, at Shrove Tide, 1630.

7. Cynthia's Revels, or the Fountain of Self-love, a comical Satire, first acted in the year 1600, by the then children of Queen Elizabeth's chapel, with the allowance of the Master of the Revels, printed in folio, 1640.

8. The Devil is an Ass, a Comedy, acted in the year 1616.

9. Entertainment of King James in passing his Coronation, printed in folio, 1640.

10. Entertainment in Private of the King and Queen on May-day in the morning, at Sir William Cornwallis's house at Highgate, 1604.

11. Entertainment of King James and Queen at Theobald's, when the house was delivered up, with the possession to the Queen, by the earl of Salisbury 1607, the Prince of Janvile, brother to the Duke of Guise being then present.

12. Entertainment in particular of the Queen and Prince, their Highnesses at Althrope at the Lord Spenser's, 1603, as they came first into the kingdom.

13. Entertainment of the Two Kings of Great Britain and Denmark, at Theobald's, July 24th 1606, printed 1640.

14. Every Man in his Humour, a Comedy, acted in the year 1598, by the then Lord Chamberlain's servants, and dedicated to Mr. Camden. This play has been often revived since the restoration.

15. Every Man out of his Humour, a comical Satire, first acted 1599, and dedicated to the Inns of Court. This play was revived 1675, at which time a new Prologue and Epilogue were spoke by Jo. Haynes, written by Mr. Duffel.

16. Fortunate Isles, and their Union celebrated, in a Masque, designed for the Court on Twelfth-Night, 1626.

17. Golden Age Restored, in a Masque, at Court 1615, by the Lords and Gentlemen, the King's servants.

18. Hymenæi, or the Solemnities of a Masque, and Barriers at a Marriage, printed 1640. To this Masque are annexed by the author, Notes on the Margin, for illustration of the ancient Greek and Roman Customs.

19. Irish Masque, at Court, by the King's servants.

20. King's Entertainment at Welbeck in Nottinghamshire, at the House of the Right Honourable William, Earl of Newcastle, at his going to Scotland, 1633.

21. Love freed from Ignorance and Folly, a Masque.

22. Love Restored, in a Masque, at Court, 1630.

23. Love's Welcome, the King and Queen's Entertainment at Bolsover, at the Earl of Newcastle's, 1634.

24. Magnetick Lady, or Humours Reconciled, a Comedy, acted at the Black Fryars, and printed 1640. This play was smartly and virulently attacked by Dr. Gill, Master of St. Paul's school, part of which, on account of the answer which Ben gave to it, we shall take the trouble to transcribe.

But to advise thee Ben, in this strict age, A brick-hill's better for thee than a stage; Thou better know'st a Groundfil for to lay Than lay a plot, or Groundwork of a play, And better canst direct to cap a chimney, Than to converse with Chlio, or Polyhimny.

Fall then to work in thy old age agen, Take up thy trug and trowel, gentle Ben, Let plays alone; or if thou need'st will write, And thrust thy feeble muse into the light; Let Lowen cease, and Taylor scorn to touch, The loathed stage, for thou hast made it such.

These lines are without wit, and without poetry; they contain a mean reflexion on Ben's original employment, of which he had no occasion to be ashamed; but he was paid in kind, and Ben answers him with equal virulence, and in truth it cannot be said with more wit or poetry, for it is difficult to determine which author's verses are most wretched.

Shall the prosperity of a pardon still Secure thy railing rhymes, infamous Gill, At libelling? shall no star chamber peers, Pillory, nor whip, nor want of ears, All which thou hast incurred deservedly, Nor degradation from the ministry To be the Denis of thy father's school, Keep in thy bawling wit, thou bawling fool. Thinking to stir me, thou hast lost thy end, I'll laugh at thee, poor wretched Tyke, go send Thy boltant muse abroad, and teach it rather A tune to drown the ballads of thy father. For thou hast nought to cure his fame, But tune and noise, and eccho of his shame. A rogue by statute, censured to be whipt, Cropt, branded, flit, neck-flockt: go, you are stript.

25. Masque, at the Lord Viscount Hadington's Marriage at Court, on Shrove Tuesday at night, 1608.

26. Masque of Augurs, with several Antimasques, presented on Twelfth Night, 1608.

27. Masque of Owls, at Kenelworth, presented by the Ghost of Captain Cox, mounted on his Hobby-Horse, 1626.

28. Masque of Queens celebrated from the House of Fame, by the Queen of Great Britain with her Ladies at Whitehall, 1609.

29. Masque, presented in the house of lord Hay by several noblemen, 1617, for the French ambassador.

30. Metamorphosed Gypsies, a Masque, thrice presented to King James, 1621.

31. Mercury vindicated from the Alchymist's, at Court.

32. Mortimer's Fall, a Tragedy, or rather a fragment, being just begun and left imperfect by his death.

33. Neptune's Triumph for the return of Albion, in a Masque, at court.

34. News from the New World discovered in the Moon, presented 1620 at court.

35. Oberon, the Fairy Prince, a Masque, of Prince Henry's.

36. Pan's Anniversary, or the Shepherd's Holiday, a Masque, 1625.

37. Pleasure reconciled to Virtue, a Masque, presented at court, 1619.

38. Poetaster, or his Arraignment, a comical Satire, first acted in the year 1601.

39. Queen's Masques, the first of Blackness, presented 1605; the second of Beauty, was presented at the same court 1608.

40. Sad Shepherd, or a Tale of Robin Hood, a Pastoral.

41. Sejanus's Fall, a Tragedy, acted in the year 1603. This play has met with success, and was ushered into the world by nine copies of verses, one of which was writ by Mr. Chapman. Mr. Gentleman has lately published a Tragedy under the same title, in which he acknowledges the parts he took from Johnson.

42.[6] Silent Woman, a Comedy, first acted in the year 1609. This is reckoned one of Ben's best comedies; Mr. Dryden has done it the honour to make some criticisms upon it.

43. Speeches at Prince Henry's Barriers, printed in folio 1640.

44. Staple of News, a Comedy, acted in the year 1625.

45. Tale of a Tub, a Comedy.

46. Time vindicated to himself and to his Honour, presented 12 nights, 1623.

47.[6] Volpone, or the Fox, a Comedy, first acted in the year 1605; this is one of his acted plays.

48. Case is altered, a Comedy, acted and printed 1609.

49. Widow, a Comedy, acted at the private house in Black Fryars.

50. New Inn, or the Light Heart, a Comedy, acted 1629. This play did not succeed to his expectation, and Ben being filled with indignation at the people's want of taste, wrote an Ode addressed to himself on that occasion, advising him to quit the stage, which was answered by Mr. Feltham.

Thus have we given a detail of Ben Johnson's works. He is allowed to have been a scholar, and to have understood and practised the dramatic rules; but Dryden proves him to have likewise been an unbounded plagiary. Humour was his talent; and he had a happy turn for an epitaph; we cannot better conclude his character as a poet, than in the nervous lines of the Prologue quoted in the Life of Shakespear.

After having shewn Shakespear's boundless genius, he continues,

Then Johnson came instructed from the school To please by method, and invent by rule. His studious patience, and laborious art With regular approach assay'd the heart; Cold approbation gave the ling'ring bays, For they who durst not censure, scarce could praise.

[Footnote 1: Drummond of Hawthornden's works, fol. 224. Edinburgh Edition, 1711.]

[Footnote 2: Birch's Lives of Illustrious Men.]

[Footnote 3: See Shakespear]

[Footnote 4: See Drummond's works.]

[Footnote 5: Wood.]

[Footnote 6: The Alchymist, the Fox, and the Silent Woman, have been oftner acted than all the rest of Ben Johnson's plays put together; they have ever been generally deemed good stock-plays, and been performed to many crowded audiences, in several separate seasons, with universal applause. Why the Silent Woman met not with success, when revived last year at Drury Lane Theatre, let the new critics, or the actors of the New Mode, determine.]

* * * * *

THOMAS CAREW, Esq;

Was descended of a very ancient and reputable family of the Carews in Devonshire, and was brother to Matthew Carews, a great royalist, in the time of the rebellion; he had his education in Corpus Christi College, but he appears not to have been matriculated as a member, or that he took a scholastic degree[1]; afterwards improving his parts by travelling, and conversation with ingenious men in the Metropolis, he acquired some reputation for his wit and poetry. About this time being taken notice of at court for his ingenuity, he was made Gentleman of the Privy Chamber, and Sewer in ordinary to King Charles I. who always esteemed him to the last, one of the most celebrated wits about his court[2]. He was much esteemed and respected by the poets of his time, especially by Ben Johnson. Sir John Suckling, who had a great kindness for him, could not let him pass in his session of poets without this character,

Tom Carew was next, but he had a fault, That would not well stand with a Laureat; His muse was hide-bound, and the issue of's brain Was seldom brought forth, but with trouble and pain.

The works of our author are,

Poems; first printed in Octavo, and afterwards being revised and enlarged, there were several editions of them made, the third in 1654, and the fourth in 1670. The songs in these poems were set to music, or as Wood expresses it, wedded to the charming notes of Mr. Henry Lawes, at that time the greatest musical composer in England, who was Gentleman of the King's Chapel, and one of the private musicians to his Majesty.

Coelum Britannicum; A Mask at Whitehall in the Banquetting House, on Shrove Tuesday night February 18, 1633, London 1651. This Masque is commonly attributed to Sir William Davenant. It was performed by the King, the duke of Lenox, earls of Devonshire, Holland, Newport &c. with several other Lords and Noblemen's Sons; he was assisted in the contrivance by Mr. Inigo Jones, the famous architect. The Masque being written by the King's express command, our author placed this distich in the front, when printed;

Non habet ingenium: Cæsar sed jussit: habebo Cur me posse negem, posse quod ille putat.

The following may serve as a specimen of the celebrated sonnets of this elegant writer.

BOLDNESS in LOVE.

Mark how the bashful morn in vain Courts the amorous marigold With sighing blasts, and weeping rain; Yet she refuses to unfold. But when the planet of the day Approacheth with his powerful ray, Then she spreads, then she receives His warmer beams into her virgin leaves.

So shalt thou thrive in love, fond boy; If thy tears and sighs discover Thy grief, thou never shalt enjoy The just reward of a bold lover: But when with moving accents thou Shalt constant faith and service vow, Thy Celia shall receive those charms With open ears, and with unfolded arms.

Sir William Davenant has given an honourable testimony in favour of our author, with which I shall conclude his life, after observing that this elegant author died, much regretted by some of the best wits of his time, in the year 1639.

Sir William Davenant thus addresses him,

Not that thy verses are so smooth and high As glory, love, and wine, from wit can raise; But now the Devil take such destiny! What should commend them turns to their dispraise. Thy wit's chief virtue, is become its vice; For every beauty thou hast rais'd so high, That now coarse faces carry such a price, As must undo a lover that would buy.

[Footnote 1: Wood's Athen. Oxon. p. 630. vol. i.]

[Footnote 2: Wood's ubi supra.]

* * * * *

Sir HENRY WOTTON.

This great man was born in the year 1568, at Bocton Hall in the county of Kent, descended of a very ancient family, who distinguished themselves in the wars between the Scotch and English before the union of crowns. The father of Sir Henry Wotton, (according to the account of the learned bishop Walton,) was twice married, and after the death of his second wife, says the bishop, 'his inclination, though naturally averse to all contentions, yet necessitated he was to have several suits of law, which took up much of his time; he was by divers of his friends perswaded to remarriage, to whom he often answered, that if he did put on a resolution to marry, he seriously resolved to avoid three sorts of persons, namely,

Those that had children, law suits, were of his kindred:

And yet following his own law suit, he met in Westminster Hall with one Mrs. Morton, the widow of a gentleman of Kent, who was engaged in several suits in law, and observing her comportment, the time of her hearing one of her causes before the judges, he could not but at the same time compassionate her condition, and so affect her person, that though there were in her a concurrence of all those accidents, against which he had so seriously resolved, yet his affection grew so strong, that he then resolved to sollicit her for a wife, and did, and obtained her.'

By this lady he had our author, who received the rudiments of his education from his mother, who was it seems a woman of taste, and capable of inspiring him with a love of polite accomplishments. When he became fit for an academical education, he was placed in New College in Oxford, in the beginning of the year 1584, where living in the condition of a Gentleman Commoner, he contracted an intimacy with Sir Richard Baker, afterwards an eminent historian. Sir Henry did not long continue there, but removed to Queen's College, where, says Walton, he made a great progress in logic and philosophy, and wrote a Tragedy for the use of that college, called Tarroredo. Walton tells us, 'that this tragedy was so interwoven with sentences, and for the exact personating those passions and humours he proposed to represent, he so performed, that the gravest of the society declared, that he had in a flight employment, given an early and solid testimony of his future abilities.'

On the 8th of June, says Wood, 1588, he as a member of Queen's College, supplicated the venerable congregation of regents, that he might be admitted to the degree of Bachelor of Arts, which desire was granted conditionally, that he should determine the Lent following, but whether he was admitted, or did determine, or took any degree, does not appear in any of the university registers; though Mr. Walton says, that about the twentieth year of his age, he proceeded Master of Arts, and at that time read in Latin three lectures de Ocello. During the time he was at the university, and gaining much upon mankind by the reputation of his abilities, his father, for whom he had the highest veneration, died, and left him a hundred marks a year, to be paid out of one of his manors of great value. Walton proceeds to relate a very astonishing circumstance concerning the father of our author, which as it is of the visionary sort, the reader may credit, or not, as he pleases; it is however too curious to be here omitted, especially as the learned prelate Walton already mentioned has told it with great earnestness, as if he was persuaded of its reality.

In the year 1553, Nicholas Wotton, dean of Canterbury, uncle to our author's father, being ambassador in France in the reign of queen Mary, dreamed, that his nephew Thomas Wotton, was disposed to be a party in a very hazardous project, which if not suddenly prevented, would issue in the loss of his life, and the ruin of his family; the dean, who was persuaded of the importance of his own dream, was very uneasy; but lest he should be thought superstitious, he resolved to conceal the circumstance, and not to acquaint his nephew, or any body else with it; but dreaming the same a second time, he determined to put something in execution in consequence of it; he accordingly wrote to the Queen to send for his nephew Thomas Wotton out of Kent, and that the Lords of the Council might examine him about some imaginary conspiracy, so as to give colour for his being committed to Jail, declaring that he would acquaint her Majesty with the true reason of his request, when he should next be so happy to pay his duty to her. The Queen complied with the dean's desire, who at that time it seems had great influence with that bigotted Princess. About this time a marriage was concluded between the Queen of England, and Philip, King of Spain, which not a little disobliged some of the nobility, who were jealous left their country by such a match should be subjected to the dominion of Spain, and their independent rights invaded by that imperious monarch. These suspicions produced an insurrection, which was headed by the duke of Suffolk and Sir Thomas Wyat, who both lost their lives in the attempt to prevent the match by seizing the Queen; for the design was soon discovered, easily defeated, and those two persons, with many more, suffered on a scaffold.

Between Sir Thomas Wyat and the Wotton's family, there had been a long intimacy, and Sir Thomas had really won Mr. Wotton over to his interest, and had he not been prevented by imprisonment, he afterwards declared that he would have joined his friend in the insurrection, and in all probability would have fallen a sacrifice to the Queen's resentment, and the votaries of the Spanish match.

After Sir Henry quitted the university of Oxford, he travelled into France, Germany and Italy, where he resided above nine years, and returned to his own country perfectly accomplished in all the polite improvements, which men of sense acquire by travelling, and well acquainted with the temper and genius of the people with whom he had conversed, and the different policy of their governments. He was soon taken notice of after his return, and became secretary to the famous Robert Devereux, earl of Essex, that unfortunate favourite, whose story is never exhibited on the stage, says Mr. Addison, without affecting the heart in the most sensible manner. With his lordship he continued in the character of secretary 'till the earl was apprehended for his mutinous behaviour towards the Queen, and put upon his trial. Wotton, who did not think it safe to continue in England after the fall of his master, retired to Florence, became acquainted with the Great Duke of Tuscany, and rose so high in his favour, that he was entrusted by him to carry letters to James VI. King of Scots, under the name of Octavio Baldi, in order to inform that king of a design against his life. Walton informs us, that though Queen Elizabeth was never willing to declare her successor, yet the King of Scots was generally believed to be the person, on whom the crown of England would devolve. The Queen declining very fast, both through age and visible infirmities, "those that were of the Romish persuasion, in point of religion, knowing that the death of the Queen, and establishing her succession, was the crisis for destroying or supporting the Protestant religion in this nation, did therefore improve all opportunities for preventing a Protestant Prince to succeed her; and as the pope's excommunication of Queen Elizabeth had both by the judgment and practice of the jesuited Papists, exposed her to be warrantably destroyed, so about that time, there were many endeavours first to excommunicate, and then to shorten the life of King James VI."

Immediately after Wotton's return from Rome to Florence, which was about a year before the death of Queen Elizabeth; Ferdinand, the Great Duke, had intercepted certain letters, which discovered a design against the life of the King of Scots. The Duke abhorring the scheme of assassination, and resolving to prevent it, advised with his secretary Vietta, by what means a caution should be given to the Scotch Prince. Vietta recommended Wotton as a person of the highest abilities of any Englishman then at his court: Mr. Wotton was sent for by his friend Vietta to the Duke, who after many professions of trust and friendship, acquainted him with the secret, and sent him to Scotland with letters to the King, and such antidotes against poison, as till then, the Scots had been strangers to. Mr. Wotton having departed from the Duke, assumed the name and language of an Italian, which he spoke so fluently, and with so little mixture of a foreign dialect, that he could scarcely be distinguished from a native of Italy; and thinking it best to avoid the line of English intelligence and danger, posted into Norway, and through that country towards Scotland, where he found the King at Stirling.

When he arrived there, he used means by one of the gentlemen of his Majesty's bed-chamber, to procure a speedy and private audience of his Majesty, declaring that the business which he was to negotiate was of such consequence, as had excited the Great Duke of Tuscany to enjoin him suddenly to leave his native country of Italy, to impart it to the king.

The King being informed of this, after a little wonder, mixed with jealousy, to hear of an Italian ambassador or messenger, appointed a private audience that evening. When Mr. Wotton came to the presence chamber, he was desired to lay aside his long rapier, and being entered, found the King there; with three or four Scotch lords standing distant in several corners of the chamber; at the sight of whom he made a stand, and which the King observing, bid him be bold, and deliver his message, and he would undertake for the secresy of all who were present. Upon this he delivered his message and letters to his Majesty in Italian; which when the King had graciously received, after a little pause, Mr. Wotton stept up to the table, and whispered to the King in his own language that he was an Englishman, requesting a more private conference with his Majesty, and that he might be concealed during his stay in that nation, which was promised, and really performed by the King, all the time he remained at the Scotch court; he then returned to the Duke with a satisfactory account of his employment.

When King James succeeded to the Throne of England, he found among others of Queen Elizabeth's officers, Sir Edward Wotton, afterwards lord Wotton, Comptroller of the Houshold, whom he asked one day, 'whether he knew one Henry Wotton, who had spent much time in foreign travel?' Sir Edward replied, that he knew him well, and that he was his brother. The King then asked, where he was, and upon Sir Edward's answering that he believed he would soon be at Paris, send for him says his Majesty, and when he comes to England, bid him repair privately to me. Sir Edward, after a little wonder, asked his Majesty, whether he knew him? to which the King answered, you must rest unsatisfied of that 'till you bring the gentleman to me. Not many months after this discourse, Sir Edward brought his brother to attend the king, who took him in his arms, and bid him welcome under the mine of Octavio Baldi, saying, that he was the most honest, and therefore the best, dissembler he ever met with; and seeing I know, added the King, you want neither learning, travel, nor experience, and that I have had so real a testimony of your faithfulness and abilities to manage an embassage, I have sent for you to declare my purposes, which is to make use of you in that kind hereafter[1]. But before he dismissed Octavio Baldi from his present attendance, he restored him to his old name of Henry Wotton, by Which he then knighted him.

Not long after this, King James having resolved according to his motto of beati pacifici, to have a friendship with his neighbouring kingdoms of France and Spain, and also to enter into an alliance with the State of Venice, and for that purpose to send ambassadors to those several States, offered to Sir Henry his choice of which ever of these employments best suited his inclination; who from the consideration of his own personal estate being small, and the courts of France and Spain extreamly sumptuous, so as to expose him to expences above his fortune, made choice of Venice, a place of more retirement, and where he could execute his embassy, and at the same time indulge himself in the study of natural philosophy, in that seat of the sciences, where he was sure to meet with men accomplished in all the polite improvements, as well as the more solid attainments of philosophy. Having informed the king that he chose to be sent to Venice, his Majesty settled a very considerable allowance upon him during his stay there; he then took his leave, and was accompanied through France to Venice, says Walton, by gentlemen of the best families and breeding, that this nation afforded.

When Sir Henry Wotton arrived at Venice, there subsisted between the Venetians and the Pope a very warm contention, which was prosecuted by both parties with equal fury. The laity made many complaints against the two frequent practice of land being left to the church without a licence from the state, which increased the power of the clergy, already too great, and rendered their insolence insupportable. In consequence of this, the state made several injunctions against lay-persons disposing their lands in that manner. Another cause of their quarrel was, that the Venetians had sent to Rome, several articles of complaint against two priests, the abbot of Nervesa, and a canon of Vicenza, for committing such abominable crimes, as Mr. Walton says, it would be a shame to mention: Their complaints met with no redress, and the detestable practices of these monsters in holy orders still continuing, they seized their persons and committed them to prison.

The justice or injustice of such power exercised by the Venetians, produced debates between the Republic and Pope Clement VIII. Clement soon dying, Pope Paul the first, a man of unbounded insolence, and elated with his spiritual superiority, let loose all his rage against the state. He judged all resistance to be a diminution of his power, and threatened excommunication to the whole State, if a revocation was not instantly made, which the Venetians rejecting, he proceeded in menaces, and at last did excommunicate the Duke, the whole Senate, and all their dominions; then he shut up the churches, charging the clergy to forbear sacred offices to any of the Venetians, till their obedience should make them capable of absolution. The contention was thus fomented, till a report prevailed that the Venetians were turned Protestants, which was believed by many, as the English embassador was so often in conference with the Senate, and that they had made all their proceedings known to the King of England, who would support them, should the Pope presume to exercise any more oppressions. This circumstance made it appear plain enough to his Holiness, that he weakened his power by exceeding it; and being alarmed lest a revolution should happen, offered the Venetians absolution upon very easy terms, which the Republic still slighting, did at last obtain it, by that which was scarce so much as a shew of desiring it. For eight years after Sir Henry Wotton's going into Italy, he stood very high in the King's esteem, but at last, lost his favour for some time, by an accident too singular to be here omitted.

When he first went embassador to Italy, as he passed through Germany he staid some days at Augsburgh, where having been in his former travels well known by many of the first reputation in learning, and passing an evening in merriment, he was desired by Christopher Hecamore to write a sentence in his Album, and consenting to it, took occasion from some accidental conversation which happened in the company, to write a pleasant definition of an embassador in these words. "Legatus est vir bonus, peregre-missus ad mentiendum Republicæ causa;" which he chose should have been thus rendered into English: An Ambassador is an honest Man, sent to lie abroad for the good of his Country; but the word lie, upon which the conceit turned, was not so expressed in Latin, as to admit a double meaning, or so fair a construction as Sir Henry thought, in English. About eight years after, this Album fell into the hands of Gaspar Scioppius, a restless zealot, who published books against King James, and upbraided him for entertaining such scandalous principles, as his embassador had expressed by that sentence: This aspersion gained ground, and it became fashionable in Venice to write this definition in several glass windows. These incidents reaching the ear of King James, he was much displeased with the behaviour of his embassador on that occasion, and from an innocent piece of witticism Sir Henry was like to pay very dear, by losing his master's favour. Upon this our author wrote two apologies, one to Velserus, which was dispersed in Germany and Italy, and another to the King; both which were so well written, that his Majesty upon reading them declared, "that Sir Henry Wotton had sufficiently commutted for a greater offence."

Upon this reconciliation, Sir Henry became more in favour with his Majesty than ever; like friends who have been for some time separated, they meet again with double fervour, and their friendship increases to a greater warmth. During the twenty years which Sir Henry was ambassador at Venice, he had the good fortune to be so well respected by all the Dukes, and the leading men of the Republic, that his interest every year increased, and they seldom denied him any favour he asked for his countrymen who came to Venice; which was, as Walton expresses it, a city of refuge for all Englishmen who were any way distressed in that Republic. Walton proceeds to relate two particular instances of the generosity, and tenderness of his disposition, and the nobleness of his mind, which, as they serve to illustrate his character, deserve a place here.

There had been many Englishmen brought by commanders of their own country, to serve the Venetians for pay, against the Turks; and those English, by irregularities, and imprudence, committed such offences as brought them into prisons, and exposed them to work in gallies. Wotton could not be an unconcerned spectator of the miseries of his countrymen: their offences he knew proceeded rather from wantonness, and intemperance, than any real principles of dishonour; and therefore he thought it not beneath him to become a petitioner for their releasement. He was happy in a successful representation of their calamities, they were set at liberty, and had an opportunity of returning to their own country in comfort, in place of languishing in jails, and being slaves at the Gallies; and by this compassionate Interposition with the Republick, he had the blessings of many miserable wretches: the highest pleasure which any human being can enjoy on this side immortality.

Of the generosity and nobleness of his mind, Walton gives this instance;

Upon Sir Henry Wotton's coming a second time to Venice, he was employed as embassador to several of the German princes, and to the Emperor Ferdinando II. and this embassy to these princes was to incline them to equitable measures, for the restoration of the Queen of Bohemia, and her descendants, to their patrimonial inheritance of the Palatinate. This was by eight months constant endeavours and attendance upon the Emperor and his court, brought to a probability of a successful conclusion, by a treaty; but about that time the Emperor's army fought a battle so fortunately, as put an end to the expected treaty, and Sir Henry Wotton's hopes, who when he quitted the Emperor's court, humbly advised him, to use his victory with moderation, which advice the Emperor was pleased to hear graciously, being well satisfied with Wotton's behaviour during his residence at his court. He then told him, that tho' the King his master was looked upon as an abetter of his enemy, yet he could not help demonstrating his regard to him, by making him a present of a rich jewel of diamonds, worth more than ten thousand pounds. This was received with all possible respect by Sir Henry; but the next morning upon his departing from Vienna, at his taking leave of the Countess of Sabrina, an Italian lady, in whose house he resided, he expressed his gratitude for her civilities by presenting her with the jewel given him by the Emperor, which being afterwards discovered, was by the Emperor taken as an affront; but Sir Henry acknowledging his gratitude for the mark of distinction shewn to him, at the same time declared, he did not chuse to receive profit from any present, given him by an enemy of his royal mistress, for so the Queen of Bohemia, the eldest daughter of the King of England, permitted him to call her.

Upon Sir Henry Wotton's return from his embassy, he signified an inclinacion to the King to be excused from any further employment in foreign affairs, to retire from the bustle of life, and spend the evening of his days in studious ease and tranquility. His Majesty in consequence of this request, promised him the reversion of an office, which was the place of Master of the Rolles, if he out-lived Sir Julius Cæsar, who then possessed it, and was grown so old, that he was said to be kept alive beyond nature's course, by the prayers of the many people who daily lived upon his bounty. Here it will not be improper to observe, that Sir Henry Wotton had, thro' a generosity of temper, reduced his affairs to such a state, that he could not live without some profitable employment, as he was indebted to many persons for money he borrowed to support his dignity in his embassy, the King's appointment for that purpose being either not regularly paid, or too inconsiderable for the expence. This rendered it impossible for him to wait the death of Sir Julius Cæsar; besides that place had been long sollicited by that worthy gentleman for his son, and it would have been thought an ill-natured office, to have by any means prevented it.

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

Hic jacit hujus sententiæ primus author. Disputandi pruritus ecclesiarum scabies. Nomen alias quære.

Which may be thus rendered into English;

Here lyeth the first author of this sentence.

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

Enquire his name elsewhere.

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

The world's a bubble: and the life of man, Less than a span. In his conception wretched: from the womb, So to the tomb, Nurst from his cradle, and brought up to years, With cares and fears. Who then to frail mortality shall trust, But lymns in water, or but writes in dust. Yet whil'st with sorrow here we live opprest, What life is best? Courts are but only superficial schools, To dandle fools: The rural part is turned into a den Of savage men: And where's a city from vice so free, But may be termed the word of all the three? Domestic cares afflict the husband's bed, Or pains his head. Those that live single take it for a curse, Or do things worse, These would have children, those that have them none, Or wish them gone: What is it then to have, or have no wife, But single thraldom, or a double strife? Our own affections still at home, to please, Is a disease. To cross the seas, to any foreign soil Peril and toil. Wars with their noise, affright us, when they cease. We're worse in peace. What then remains, but that we still should cry For being born, and being born to die.

He is author of the following works;

Epistola de Casparo Scioppio, Amberg. 1638, 8vo. This Scioppius was a man of restless spirit, and had a malicious pen; who in books against King James, took occasion from a sentence written by Sir Henry Wotton, in a German's Album, (mentioned p. 260.) to upbraid him with what principles of religion were professed by him, and his embassador Wotton, then at Venice, where the said sentence was also written in several glass windows, as hath been already observed.

Epist. ad Marc. Velserum Duumvir. Augustæ Vindelicæ, Ann. 1612.

The Elements of Architecture, Lond. 1624, 4to. in two parts, re-printed in the Reliquæ Wottonianæ, Ann. 1651, 1654, and 1672, 8vo. translated into Latin, and printed with the great Vitruvius, and an eulogium on Wotton put before it. Amster. 1649, folio.

Plausus & Vota ad Regem è scotiâ reducem. Lond. 1633, in a large 4to. or rather in a little folio, reprinted by Dr. John Lamphire, in a book, entitled by him, Monarchia Britannica, Oxon. 1681, 8vo.

Parallel between Robert Earl of Essex, and George late Duke of Buckingham, London 1642, in four sheets and a half in 4to.

Difference, and Disparity between the Estates, and Conditions of George Duke of Buckingham, and Robert Earl of Essex.

Characters of, and Observations on, some Kings of England.

The Election of the New Duke of Venice, after the Death of Giopvanno Bembo.

Philosophical Survey of Education, or moral Architecture.

Aphorisms of Education.

The great Action between Pompey and Cæsar, extracted out of the Roman and Greek writers.

Meditations 22. [Chap. of Gen. Christmas Day]

Letters to, and Characters of certain Personages.

Various Poems.--All or most of which books, and Treatises are re-printed in a book, entitled, Reliquæ Wottonianæ already mentioned, Lond. 1651, 1654, 1672, and 1685, in 8vo. published by Js. Walton, at the End of Sir Henry Wotton's life.

Letters to the Lord Zouch.

The State of Christendom: or, a more exact and curious Discovery of many secret Passages, and hidden Mysteries of the Times, Lond. 1657, folio.

Letters to Sir Edmund Bacon, Lond. 1661, 8vo. There are also several Letters of his extant, which were addressed to George Duke of Buckingham, in a Book called Cabala, Mysteries of State, Lond. 1654, 4to.

Journal of his Embassies to Venice, Manuscript, written in the Library of Edward Lord Conway.

The Propositions to the Count d'Angosciola, relating to Duels.

[Footnote 1: Walton, ubi supra.]

* * * * *

GERVASE MARKHAM.

A gentleman who lived in the reign of Charles I. for whom he took up arms in the time of the rebellion, being honoured by his Majesty with a captain's commission.[1] He was the son of Robert Markham, of Cotham in the county of Nottingham, Esq; and was famous for his numerous volumes of husbandry, and horsemanship; besides what he has wrote on rural recreations and military discipline, he understood both the practice and theory of war, and was esteemed an excellent linguist, being master of the French, Italian, and Spanish languages, from all which he collected observations on husbandry. One piece of dramatic poetry which he has published, says Mr. Langbaine, will shew, that he sacrificed to Apollo and the Muses, as well as Mars and Pallas. This play is extant under the title of Herod and Antipater, a tragedy, printed 4to, 1622; when or where this play was acted, Mr. Langbaine cannot determine; for, says he, the imperfection of my copy hinders my information; for the foundation, it is built on history: See Josephus. Mr. Langbaine then proceeds to enumerate his other works, which he says, are famous over all England; of these he has wrote a discourse of Horsemanship, printed 4to. without date, and dedicated to Prince Henry, eldest son to King James I. Cure of all Diseases incident to Horses, 4to. 1610. English Farrier, 4to. 1649. Masterpiece, 4to. 1662. Faithful Farrier, 8vo. 1667. Perfect Horsemanship, 12mo. 1671. In Husbandry he published Liebault's le Maison Rustique, or the Country Farm, folio, Lond. 1616. This Treatise, which was at first translated by Mr. Richard Surfleit, a Physician, our author enlarged with several additions from the French books of Serris and Vinet, the Spanish of Albiterio and the Italian of Grilli and others. The Art of Husbandry, first translated from the Latin of Cour. Heresbachiso, by Barnaby Googe, he revived and augmented, 4to. 1631. He wrote besides, Farewell to Husbandry, 4to. 1620. Way to get wealth, wherein is comprised his Country Contentments, printed 4to. 1668. To this is added, Hunger's Prevention, or the Art of Fowling, 8vo. His Epitome, 12mo. &c.--In Military Discipline he has published the Soldier's Accidence and Grammar, 4to. 1635--Besides these the second book of the first part of the English Arcadia is said to be wrote by him, in so much that he may be accounted, says Langbaine, "if not Unus in omnibus, at least a benefactor to the public, by those works he left behind him, which without doubt perpetuate his memory." Langbaine is lavish in his praise, and not altogether undeservedly. To have lived a military life, which too often engages its professors in a dissipated course of pleasure, and at the same time, make himself master of such a variety of knowledge, and yield so much application to study, entitles him to hold some rank in literature. In poetry he has no name, perhaps because he did not apply himself to it; so true is the observation that a great poet is seldom any thing else. Poetry engages all the powers of the mind, and when we consider how difficult it is to acquire a name in a profession which demands so many requisites, it will not appear strange that the sons of Apollo should seldom be found to yield sufficient attention to any other excellence, so as to possess it in an equal degree.

[Footnote 1: Langbaine's Lives, p. 340.]

* * * * *

THOMAS HEYWOOD

Lived in the reign of Queen Elizabeth and King James I. He was an actor, as appears from the evidence of Mr. Kirkman, and likewise from a piece written by him called, The Actor's Vindication. Langbaine calls his plays second rate performances, but the wits of his time would not permit them to rank so high. He was according to his own confession, one of the most voluminous writers, that ever attempted dramatic poetry in any language, and none but the celebrated Spaniard Lopez de Vega can vie with him. In his preface to one of his plays he observes, that this Tragi-comedy is one preserved amongst two hundred and twenty, "in which I have had either an entire hand, or at least a main finger." Of this prodigious number, Winstanley, Langbaine, and Jacob agree, that twenty-four only remain; the reason Heywood himself gives is this; "That many of them by shifting and change of companies have been negligently lost; others of them are still retained in the hands of some actors, who think it against their profit to have them come in print, and a third, that it was never any great ambition in me to be voluminously read." These seem to be more plausible reasons than Winstanley gives for their miscarriage; "It is said that he not only acted himself every day, but also wrote each day a sheet; and that he might lose no time, many of his plays were composed in the tavern, on the backside of tavern bills, which may be the occasion that so many of them are lost." That many of our author's plays might be plann'd, and perhaps partly composed in a tavern is very probable, but that any part of them was wrote on a tavern bill, seems incredible, the tavern bill being seldom brought upon the table till the guests are going to depart; besides as there is no account of Heywood's being poor, and when his employment is considered, it is almost impossible he could have been so; there is no necessity to suppose this very strange account to be true. A poet not long dead was often obliged to study in the fields, and write upon scraps of paper, which he occasionally borrowed; but his case was poverty, and absolute want.[1] Langbaine observes of our author, that he was a general scholar, and a tolerable linguist, as his several translations from Lucian, Erasmus, Texert, Beza, Buchanan, and other Latin and Italian authors sufficiently manifest. Nay, further, says he, "in several of his plays, he has borrowed many ornaments from the ancients, as more particularly in his play called the Ages, he has interspersed several things borrowed from Homer, Virgil, Ovid, Seneca, Plautus, which extremely set them off." What opinion the wits of his age had of him, may appear from the following verses, extracted from of one of the poets of those times.[2]

The squibbing Middleton, and Heywood sage, Th' apologetick Atlas of the stage; Well of the golden age he could entreat, But little of the metal he could get; Threescore sweet babes he fashion'd at a lump, For he was christen'd in Parnassus pump; The Muses gossip to Aurora's bed, And ever since that time, his face was red.

We have no account how much our author was distinguished as an actor, and it may be reasonably conjectured that he did not shine in that light; if he had, his biographers would scarce have omitted so singular a circumstance, besides he seems to have addicted himself too much to poetry, to study the art of playing, which they who are votaries of the muses, or are favoured by them, seldom think worth their while, and is indeed beneath their genius.

The following is a particular account of our author's plays now extant:

1. Robert Earl of Huntingdon's downfall, an historical Play, 1601, acted by the Earl of Nottingham's servants.

2. Robert Earl of Huntingdon's Death; or Robin Hood of Merry Sherwood, with the tragedy of chaste Matilda, 1601. The plots of these two plays, are taken from Stow, Speed, and Baker's chronicles in the reign of King Richard I.

3. The Golden Age, or the Lives of Jupiter and Saturn, an historical play, acted at the Red Bull, by the Queen's servants, 1611. This play the author stiles the eldest Brother of three Ages. For the story see Galtruchius's poetical history, Ross's Mystagogus Poeticus; Hollyoak, Littleton, and other dictionaries.

4. The Silver Age, 1613; including the Love of Jupiter to Alcmena. The Birth of Hercules, and the Rape of Proserpine; concluding with the Arraignment of the Moon. See Plautus. Ovid. Metamorph. Lib. 3.

5. The Brazen Age; an historical play, 1613. This play contains the Death of Centaure Nessus, the tragedy of Meleager, and of Jason and Medea, the Death of Hercules, Vulcan's Net, &c. For the story see Ovid's Metamorph. Lib. 4--7--8--9.

6. The Iron Age; the first part a history containing the Rape of Helen, the Siege of Troy, the Combat between Hector and Ajax. Hector and Troilus slain by Achilles, the Death of Ajax, &c. 1632.

7. Iron Age, the second part; a History containing the Death of Penthesilea, Paris, Priam, and Hecuba: the burning of Troy, the Deaths of Agamemnon, Menelaus, Clytemnestra, Helena, Orestes, Egistus, Pylades, King Diomede, Pyrrhus, Cethus, Synon, Thersetus, 1632, which part is addressed to the author's much respected friend Thomas Manwaring, Esq; for the plot of both parts, see Homer, Virgil, Dares Phrygius; for the Episodes, Ovid's Epistles, Metamorph, Lucian's Dialogues, &c.

8. A Woman kill'd with Kindness, a comedy acted by the Queen's Servants with applause, 1617.

9. If you know not Me, you know Nobody; or the Troubles of Queen Elizabeth, in Two parts, 1623. The plot taken from Camden, Speed, and other English Chronicles in the reign of Queen Elizabeth.

10. The Royal King, and Loyal Subject, a tragi-comedy, 1627, taken partly from Fletcher's Loyal Subject.

The Fair Maid of the West, or a Girl worth Gold, 1631. This play was acted before the King and Queen. Our author in his epistle prefixed to this play, pleads modesty in not exposing his plays to the public view of the world in numerous sheets, and a large volume under the title of Works, as others, by which he would seem tacitly to arraign some of his cotemporaries for ostentation, and want of modesty. Langbaine is of opinion, that Heywood in this case levelled the accusation at Ben Johnson, since no other poet, in those days, gave his plays the pompous title of Works, of which Sir John Suckling has taken notice in his session, of the poets.

The first that broke silence, was good old Ben, Prepar'd before with Canary wine; And he told them plainly, that he deserved the bays, For his were called works, where others were but plays.

There was also a distich directed by some poet of that age to Ben Johnson,

Pray tell me, Ben, where does the mystery lurk? What others call a play, you call a work.

Which was thus answered by a friend of his,

The author's friend, thus for the author says, Ben's plays are works, when others works are plays.

12. Fair Maid of the West, or a Girl worth Gold, the second part; acted likewise before the King and Queen with success, dedicated to Thomas Hammond, of Gray's-Inn, Esq;

13. The Dutchess of Suffolk, an historical play 1631. For the play see Fox's Martyrology, p. 521.

14. The English Traveller, a tragi-comedy, acted at the Cock-pit in Drury-lane, 1633, dedicated to Sir Henry Appleton, the plot from Plautus Mostellaria.

15. A Maidenhead well lost, a comedy acted in Drury-lane, 1634.

16. The Four London Apprentices, with the Conquest of Jerusalem; an historical play, acted by the Queen's servants 1635. It is founded on the history of Godfrey of Bulloign. See Tasso, Fuller's history of the holy war, &c.

17. A Challenge for Beauty; a tragi-comedy, acted by the King's servants in Black-Fryers, 1636.

18. The Fair Maid of the Exchance; with the Merry Humours of the Cripple of Fen-church, a comedy, 1637.

19. The Wise Woman of Hogsden; a comedy, acted with applause, 1638.

20. The Rape of Lucrece, a Roman Tragedy, acted at the Red Bull, 1638. Plot from Titus Livius.

21. Love's Mistress, or the Queen's Mask; presented several times before their Majesties, 1640. For the plot see Apuleius's Golden Ass.

22. Fortune by Land or Sea, a comedy; acted by the Queen's servants, 1653. Mr. Rowley assisted in the composing of this play.

23. The Lancashire Witches, a comedy; acted at the Globe by the King's servants. Mr. Brome joined with Mr. Heywood in writing this comedy. This story is related by the author in his Hierarchy of Angels.

24. Edward IV. an historical play, in two parts. For the story see Speed, Hollinshed and other chronicles.

This author has published several other works in verse and prose, as his Hierarchy of Angels, above-mentioned; the Life and Troubles of Queen Elizabeth; the General History of Women; An Apology for Actors, &c.

[Footnote 1: See the Life of Savage.]

[Footnote 2: Langbaine, p. 258.]

* * * * *

WILLIAM CARTWRIGHT,

A Gentleman eminent for learning. The place of his birth, and his father's name, are differently assigned by authors, who have mentioned him. Mr. Loyd says[1], that he was son of Thomas Cartwright of Burford in Oxfordshire, and born August 16, in the year 1615; Mr. Wood[2], that he was the son of William Cartwright, and born at Northway, near Tewksbury in Gloucestershire in September 1611, that his father had dissipated a fair inheritance he knew not how, and as his last refuge turned inn-keeper at Cirencester; when living in competence, he procured his son, a youth of a promising genius, to be educated under Mr. William Topp, master of the free school in that town. From thence he was removed to Westminster school, being chosen a King's scholar, when compleating his former learning, under the care of Mr. Lambert Osbaldiston, he was elected a student in Christ Church in Oxford, in 1628, under the tuition of Mr. Jerumael Terrent[3], having gone through the classes of logic and philosophy with unwearied diligence, he took the degrees of Arts, that of Master being compleated in 1605. Afterwards he entered into holy orders, and gained great reputation, in the university for his pathetic preaching.

In 1642 he had the place of succentor in the church of Salisbury, conferred on him by bishop Duppa,[4] and in 1643 was chosen junior proctor of the university; he was also metaphysical reader, and it was generally said, that those lectures were never performed better than by Mr. Cartwright, and his predecessor Mr. Thomas Barlow of Queen's College, afterwards lord bishop of Lincoln.[5] This ingenious gentleman died of a malignant fever, called the Camp-disease, which then reigned in Oxford, and was fatal to many of his contemporaries, in the 33d year of his age, 1643. His death was very much lamented by all ranks of men, and the King and Queen, then at Oxford, frequently enquired after him in the time of his sickness, and expressed great concern for his death. Mr. Cartwright was as remarkable for the endowments of his person as of his mind; his body (as Langbaine expresses it) "being as handsome as his soul. He was, says he, an expert linguist, understanding not only Greek and Latin, but French and Italian, as perfectly as his mother tongue; an excellent orator, and at the same time an admirable poet, a quality which Cicero with all his pains could never attain." The editor of his works applies to him the saying of Aristotle concerning Æschron the poet, "that he could not tell what Æschron could not do," and Dr. Fell, bishop of Oxford, said of him, "Cartwright was the utmost a man can come to." Ben Johnson likewise so highly valued him, that he said, "My son Cartwright writes all like a man." There are extant of this author's, four plays, besides other poems, all which were printed together in 1651, to which are prefixed above fifty copies of commendatory verses by the most eminent wits of the university.

Langbaine gives the following account of his plays;

1. Ordinary, a Comedy, when and where acted is uncertain.

2. Lady Errant, a Tragi-Comedy; there is no account when this play was acted, but it was esteemed a good Comedy.

3, Royal Slave, a Tragi-comedy, presented to the King and Queen, by the students of Christ Church in Oxford, August 30, 1636; presented since before both their Majesties at Hampton Court by the King's servants. As for the noble stile of the play itself, and the ready address, and graceful carriage of the students (amongst which Dr. Busby, the famous master of Westminster school; proved himself a second Roscius) did exceed all things of that nature they had ever seen. The Queen, in particular, so much admired it, that in November following, she sent for the habits and scenes to Hampton Court, she being desirous to see her own servants represent the same play, whose profession it was, that she might the better judge of the several performances, and to whom the preference was due: the sentence was universally given by all the spectators in favour of the gown, though nothing was wanting on Mr. Cartwright's side to inform the players as well as the Scholars, in what belonged to the action and delivery of each part.[6]

4. Siege, or Love's Convert, a Tragi-Comedy, when acted is not known, but was dedicated by the author to King Charles I. by an epistle in verse.

Amongst his poems, there are several concerning the dramatic poets, and their writings, which must not be forgot; as these two copies which he wrote on Mr. Thomas Killegrew's plays, the Prisoner, and Claracilla; two copies on Fletcher, and one in memory of Ben Johnson, which are so excellent, that the publisher of Mr. Cartwright's poems speaks of them with rapture in the preface, viz. 'what had Ben said had he read his own Eternity, in that lasting elegy given him by our author.' Mr. Wood mentions some other works of Cartwright's; 1st. Poemata Graeca et Latina. 2d. An Offspring of Mercy issuing out of the Womb of Cruelty; a Passion Sermon preached at Christ Church in Oxford, on Acts ii. 23. London, 8vo. 1652. 3d. On the Signal Days of the Month of November, in relation to the Crown and Royal Family; a Poem, London 1671, in a sheet, 4to. 4th. Poems and Verses, containing Airs for several Voices, set by Mr. Henry Lawes.

From a Comedy of Mr. Cartwright's called the Ordinary, I shall quote the following Congratulatory Song on a Marriage, which is amorous, and spirited.

I. While early light springs from the skies, A fairer from your bride doth rise; A brighter day doth thence appear, And make a second morning there. Her blush doth shed All o'er the bed Clear shame-faced beams That spread in streams, And purple round the modest air.

II. I will not tell what shrieks and cries, What angry pishes, and what fies, What pretty oaths, then newly born, The list'ning bridegroom heard there sworn: While froward she Most peevishly Did yielding fight, To keep o'er night, What she'd have proffer'd you e're morn.

III. For, we know, maids do refute To grant what they do come to lose. Intend a conquest, you that wed; They would be chastly ravished; Not any kiss From Mrs. Pris, 'If that you do Persuade and woo: No, pleasure's by extorting fed.

IV. O may her arms wax black and blue Only by hard encircling you: May she round about you twine Like the easy twisting vine; And while you sip From her full lip Pleasures as new As morning dew, Like those soft tyes, your hearts combine.

[Footnote 1: Memoirs, p. 422.]

[Footnote 2: Atheniæ Oxon. p. 274.]

[Footnote 3: ibid. vol. ii. col. 34.]

[Footnote 4: Athen. Oxon. col. 35.]

[Footnote 5: Preface to his Poems in 8vo. London, 1651.]

[Footnote 6: Wood.]

* * * * *

GEORGE SANDYS,

A younger son of Edwin, Archbishop of York, was born at Bishops Thorp in that county, and as a member of St. Mary's Hall, was matriculated in the university in the beginning of December 1589; how long he remained at the university Wood is not able to determine. In the year 1610 he began a long journey, and after he had travelled through several parts of Europe, he visited many cities, especially Constantinople, and countries under the Turkish empire, as Greece, Egypt, and the Holy Land[1]. Afterwards he took a view of the remote parts of Italy, and the Islands adjoining: Then he went to Rome; the antiquities of that place were shewn him by Nicholas Fitzherbert, once an Oxford student, and who had the honour of Mr. Sandys's acquaintance. Thence our author went to Venice, and from that returned to England, where digesting his notes, he published his travels. Sandys, who appears to have been a man of excellent parts, of a pious and generous disposition, did not, like too many travellers, turn his attention upon the modes of dress, and the fashions of the several courts which is but a poor acquisition; but he studied the genius, the tempers, the religion, and the governing principles of the people he visited, as much as his time amongst them would permit. He returned in 1612, being improved, says Wood, 'in several respects, by this his 'large journey, being an accomplished gentleman, as being master of several languages, of affluent and ready discourse, and excellent comportment.' He had also a poetical fancy, and a zealous inclination to all literature, which made his company acceptable to the most virtuous men, and scholars of his time. He also wrote a Paraphrase on the Psalms of David, and upon the Hymns dispersed throughout the Old and New Testament, London, 1636, reprinted there in folio 1638, with other things under this title.

Paraphrase on the Divine Poems, on Job, Psalms of David, Ecclesiastes, Lamentations of Jeremiah, and Songs collected out of the Old and New Testament. This Paraphrase on David's Psalms was one of the books that Charles I. delighted so much to read in: as he did in Herbert's Divine Poems, Dr. Hammond's Works, and Hooker's Ecclesiastical Polity, while he was a prisoner in the Isle of Wight[2].

Paraphrase on the Divine Poems, viz. on the Psalms of David, on Ecclesiastes, and on the Song of Solomon, London, 1637. Some, if not all of the Psalms of David, had vocal compositions set to them by William and Henry Lawes, with a thorough bass, for an Organ, in four large books or volumes in 4to. Our author also translated into English Ovid's Metamorphoses, London, 1627. Virgil's first book of Æneis printed with the former. Mr. Dryden in his preface to some of his translations of Ovid's Metamorphoses, calls him the best versifier of the last age.

Christ's Passion, written in Latin by the famous Hugo Grotius, and translated by our author, to which he also added notes; this subject had been handled handled before in Greek, by that venerable person, Apollinarius of Laodicea, bishop of Hierapolis, but this of Grotius, in Sandys's opinion, transcends all on this argument; this piece was reprinted with figures in 8vo. London, 1688. Concerning our author but few incidents are known, he is celebrated by cotemporary and subsequent wits, as a very considerable poet, and all have agreed to bestow upon him the character of a pious worthy man. He died in the year 1643, at the house of his nephew Mr. Wiat at Boxley Abbey in Kent, in the chancel of which parish church he is buried, though without a monument, only as Wood says with the following, which stands in the common register belonging to this church.

Georgius Sandys, Poetarum Anglorum sui sæculi Princeps, sepultus suit Martii 7° stilo Anglico. Anno Pom. 1643. It would be injurious to the memory of Sandys, to dismiss his life without informing the reader that the worthy author stood high in the opinion of that most accomplished young nobleman the lord viscount Falkland, by whom to be praised, is the highest compliment that can be paid to merit; his lordship addresses a copy of verses to Grotius, occasioned by his Christus Patiens, in which he introduces Mr. Sandys, and says of him, that he had seen as much as Grotius had read; he bestows upon him like wife the epithet of a fine gentleman, and observes, that though he had travelled to foreign countries to read life, and acquire knowledge, yet he was worthy, like another Livy, of having men of eminence from every country come to visit him. From the quotation here given, it will be seen that Sandys was a smooth versifier, and Dryden in his preface to his translation of Virgil, positively says, that had Mr. Sandys gone before him in the whole translation, he would by no means have attempted it after him.

In the translation of his Christus Patiens, in the chorus of Act III.

JESUS speaks.

Daughters of Solyma, no more My wrongs thus passionately deplore. These tears for future sorrows keep, Wives for yourselves, and children weep; That horrid day will shortly come, When you shall bless the barren womb, And breast that never infant fed; Then shall you with the mountain's head Would from this trembling basis slide, And all in tombs of ruin hide.

In his translation of Ovid, the verses on Fame are thus englished.

And now the work is ended which Jove's rage, Nor fire, nor sword, shall raise, nor eating age. Come when it will, my death's uncertain hour, Which only o'er my body bath a power: Yet shall my better part transcend the sky, And my immortal name shall never die: For wheresoe'er the Roman Eagles spread Their conqu'ring wings, I shall of all be read. And if we Prophets can presages give, I in my fame eternally shall live.

[Footnote 1: Athen. Oxon. p. 46. vol. ii.]

[Footnote 2: Wood, ubi supra.]

* * * * *

CARY LUCIUS, Lord Viscount FALKLAND,

The son of Henry, lord viscount Falkland, was born at Burford in Oxfordshire, about the year 1610[1]. For some years he received his education in Ireland, where his father carried him when he was appointed Lord Deputy of that kingdom in 1622; he had his academical learning in Trinity College in Dublin, and in St. John's College, Cambridge. Clarendon relates, "that before he came to be twenty years of age, he was master of a noble fortune, which descended to him by the gift of a grandfather, without passing through his father or mother, who were both alive; shortly after that, and before he was of age, being in his inclination a great lover of the military life, he went into the low countries in order to procure a command, and to give himself up to it, but was diverted from it by the compleat inactivity of that summer." He returned to England, and applied himself to a severe course of study; first to polite literature and poetry, in which he made several successful attempts. In a very short time he became perfectly master of the Greek tongue; accurately read all the Greek historians, and before he was twenty three years of age, he had perused all the Greek and Latin Fathers.

About the time of his father's death, in 1633, he was made one of the Gentlemen of his Majesty's Privy Chamber, notwithstanding which he frequently retired to Oxford, to enjoy the conversation of learned and ingenious men. In 1639 he was engaged in an expedition against the Scots, and though he received some disappointment in a command of a troop of horse, of which he had a promise, he went a volunteer with the earl of Essex[2].

In 1640 he was chosen a Member of the House of Commons, for Newport in the Isle of Wight, in the Parliament which began at Westminster the 13th of April in the same year, and from the debates, says Clarendon, which were managed with all imaginable gravity and sobriety, 'he contracted such a reverence for Parliaments, that he thought it absolutely impossible they ever could produce mischief or inconvenience to the nation, or that the kingdom could be tolerably happy in the intermission of them, and from the unhappy, and unseasonable dissolution of the Parliament he harboured some prejudice to the court.'

In 1641, John, lord Finch, Keeper of the Great Seal, was impeached by lord Falkland, in the name of the House of Commons, and his lordship, says Clarendon, 'managed that prosecution with great vigour and sharpness, as also against the earl of Strafford, contrary to his natural gentleness of temper, but in both these cases he was misled by the authority of those whom he believed understood the laws perfectly, of which he himself was utterly ignorant[3].'

He had contracted an aversion towards Archbishop Laud, and some other bishops, which inclined him to concur in the first bill to take away the votes of the bishops in the House of Lords. The reason of his prejudice against Laud was, the extraordinary passion and impatience of contradiction discoverable in that proud prelate; who could not command his temper, even at the Council Table when his Majesty was present, but seemed to lord it over all the rest, not by the force of argument, but an assumed superiority to which he had no right. This nettled lord Falkland, and made him exert his spirit to humble and oppose the supercilious churchman. This conduct of his lordship's, gave Mr. Hampden occasion to court him to his party, who was justly placed by the brilliance of his powers, at the head of the opposition; but after a longer study of the laws of the realm, and conversation with the celebrated Edward Hyde, Earl of Clarendon, he changed his opinion, and espoused an interest quite opposite to Hampden's.

After much importunity, he at last accepted the Seals of his Majesty, and served in that employment with unshaken integrity, being above corruption of any kind.

When he was vested with that high dignity, two parts of his conduct were very remarkable; he could never persuade himself that it was lawful to employ spies, or give any countenance or entertainment to such persons, who by a communication of guilt, or dissimulation of manners, wind themselves into such trusts and secrets, as enable them to make discoveries; neither could he ever suffer himself to open letters, upon a suspicion that they might contain matters of dangerous consequence, and proper for statesmen to know. As to the first he condemned them as void of all honour, and who ought justly to be abandoned to infamy, and that no single preservation could be worth so general a wound and corruption of society, as encouraging such people would carry with it. The last, he thought such a violation of the law of nature, that no qualification by office could justify him in the trespass, and tho' the necessity of the times made it clear, that those advantages were not to be declined, and were necessary to be practised, yet he found means to put it off from himself[4].

June 15, 1642, he was one of the lords who signed the declaration, wherein they professed they were fully satisfied his Majesty had no intention to raise war upon his Parliament. At the same time he subscribed to levy twenty horse for his Majesty's service, upon which he was excepted from the Parliament's favour, in the instructions given by the two Houses to their general the Earl of Essex. He attended the King to Edgehill fight, where after the enemy was routed he was exposed to imminent danger, by endeavouring to save those who had thrown away their arms. He was also with his Majesty at Oxford, and during his residence there, the King went one day to see the public library, where he was shewed, among other books, a Virgil nobly printed, and exquisitely bound. The Lord Falkland, to divert the King, would have him make a trial of his fortune by the Sortes Virgilianæ, an usual kind of divination in ages past, made by opening a Virgil. Whereupon the King opening the book, the period which happened to come up, was that part of Dido's imprecation against Æneas, Æneid. lib. 4. v. 615, part of which is thus translated by Mr. Dryden,

Oppess'd with numbers in th' unequal field. His men discouraged and himself expell'd, Let him for succour sue from place to place, Torn from his subjects, and his sons embrace.

His Majesty seemed much concerned at this accident. Lord Falkland who observed it, would likewise try his own fortune in the same manner, hoping he might fall upon some passage that had no relation to his case, and thereby divert the king's thoughts from any impression the other might make upon him; but the place Lord Falkland opened was more suited to his destiny than the other had been to the King's, being the following expressions of Evander, on the untimely death of his son Pallas. Æneid. b. ii. verse 152, &c.

Non hæc, O Palla, dederas promissa Parenti, &c.

Thus translated by Mr. Dryden:

O Pallas! thou hast failed thy plighted word, To fight with caution, not to tempt the sword; I warn'd thee, but in vain; for well I knew, What perils youthful ardour would pursue: That boiling blood would carry thee too far; Young as thou wert to dangers, raw to war! O curst essay of arms, disastrous doom Prelude of bloody fields, and fights to come[5].

Upon the beginning of the civil war, his natural chearfulness and vivacity was clouded, and a kind of sadness and dejection of spirit stole upon him. After the resolution of the two houses not to admit any treaty of peace, those indispositions which had before touched him, grew into a habit of gloominess; and he who had been easy and affable to all men, became on a sudden less communicable, sad, and extremely affected with the spleen. In his dress, to which he had formerly paid an attention, beyond what might have been expected from a man of so great abilities, and so much business, he became negligent and slovenly, and in his reception of suitors, so quick, sharp, and severe, that he was looked upon as proud and imperious.

When there was any hope of peace, his former spirit used to return and he appeared gay, and vigorous, and exceeding sollicitous to press any thing that might promote it; and Clarendon observes, "That after a deep silence, when he was sitting amongst his friends, he would with a shrill voice, and sad accent, repeat the words Peace! Peace! and would passionately say, that the agony of the war, the ruin and bloodshed in which he saw the nation involved, took his sleep from him, and would soon break his heart."

This extream uneasiness seems to have hurried him on to his destruction; for the morning before the battle of Newbery, he called for a clean shirt, and being asked the reason of it, answered, "That if he were slain in the battle, they should not find his body in foul linen." Being persuaded by his friends not to go into the fight, as being no military officer, "He said he was weary of the times, foresaw much misery to his country, and did believe he should be out of it e're night." Putting himself therefore into the first rank of the Lord Byron's regiment, he was shot with a musket in the lower part of his belly, on the 20th of September 1643, and in the instant falling from his horse, his body was not found till next morning.

Thus died in the bed of honour, the incomparable Lord Falkland, on whom all his contemporaries bestowed the most lavish encomiums, and very deservedly raised altars of praise to his memory. Among all his panegyrists, Clarendon is the foremost, and of highest authority; and in his words therefore, I shall give his character to the reader. "In this unhappy battle, (says he) was slain the Lord viscount Falkland, a person of such prodigious parts, of learning and knowledge, of that inimitable sweetness and delight in conversation, and so flowing and obliging a humanity and goodness to mankind, and of that primitive simplicity and integrity of life, that if there were no other brand upon this odious and accursed civil war, than that single loss, it must be most infamous and execrable to all posterity. He was a great cherisher of wit and fancy, and good parts in any man; and if he found them clouded with poverty and want, a most liberal and bountiful patron towards them, even above his fortune." His lordship then enumerates the unshaken loyalty and great abilities of this young hero, in the warmth of a friend; he shews him in the most engaging light, and of all characters which in the course of this work we met with, except Sir Philip Sidney's, lord Falkland's seems to be the most amiable, and his virtues are confessed by his enemies of the opposite faction. The noble historian, in his usual masterly manner, thus concludes his panegyric on his deceased friend. "He fell in the 34th year of his age, having so much dispatched the true business of life, that the eldest rarely attain to that immense knowledge, and the youngest enter into the world with more innocency: whosoever leads such a life, needs be less anxious upon how short warning it is taken from him."----As to his person, he was little, and of no great strength; his hair was blackish, and somewhat flaggy, and his eyes black and lively. His body was buried in the church of Great Tew. His works are chiefly these:

First Poems.----Next, besides those Speeches of his mentioned above,

1. A Speech concerning Uniformity, which we are informed of by Wood.

2. A Speech of ill Counsellors about the King, 1640 [6].

A Draught of a Speech concerning Episcopacy, London, 1660, 410.

4. A Discourse of the Infallibility of the Church of Rome. Oxford 1645, 410. George Holland, a Cambridge scholar, and afterwards a Romish priest, having written an answer to this discourse of the Infallibility, the Lord Falkland made a reply to it, entitled,

5. A View of some Exceptions made against the Discourse of the Infallibility of the Church of Rome, printed at Oxford, 1646, 410. He assisted Mr. Chillingworth in his book of the Religion of the Protestants, &c. This particular we learn from Bishop Barlow in his Genuine Remains, who says, that when Mr. Chillingworth undertook the defence of Dr. Pottus's book against the Jesuit, he was almost continually at Tew with my Lord, examining the reasons of both parties pro and con; and their invalidity and consequence; where Mr. Chillingworth had the benefit of my Lord's company, and of his good library.

We shall present our readers with a specimen of his lordship's poetry, in a copy of verses addressed to Grotius on his Christus Patiens, a tragedy, translated by Mr. Sandys. To the AUTHOR.

Our age's wonder, by thy birth, the fame, Of Belgia, by thy banishment, the shame; Who to more knowledge younger didst arrive Than forward Glaucias, yet art still alive, Whose matters oft (for suddenly you grew, To equal and pass those, and need no new) To see how soon, how far thy wit could reach, Sat down to wonder, when they came to teach. Oft then would Scaliger contented be To leave to mend all times, to polish thee. And of that pains, effect did higher boast, Than had he gain'd all that his fathers lost. When thy Capella read---------------------- That King of critics stood amaz'd to see A work so like his own set forth by thee.

[Footnote 1: Wood's Athen. Oxon. vol. i. col. 586.]

[Footnote 2: Clarendon's History, &c.]

[Footnote 3: Ibid.]

[Footnote 4: Clarendon, ubi supra.]

[Footnote 5: Memoirs, &c. by Welwood, edit 1718. 12mo. p. 90--92.]

[Footnote 6: Historical Collections, p. 11. vol. 2. p. 1342.]

* * * * *

Sir JOHN SUCKLING

Lived in the reign of King Charles I. and was son of Sir John Suckling, comptroller of the houshold to that monarch. He was born at Witham, in the county of Middlesex, 1613, with a remarkable circumstance of his mother's going eleven months with him, which naturalists look upon as portending a hardy and vigorous constitution. A strange circumstance is related of him, in his early years, in a life prefixed to his works. He spoke Latin, says the author, at five years old, and wrote it at nine; if either of these circumstances is true, it would seem as if he had learned Latin from his nurse, nor ever heard any other language, so that it was native to him; but to speak Latin at five, in consequence of study, is almost impossible.

The polite arts, which our author chiefly admired, were music and poetry; how far he excelled in the former, cannot be known, nor can we agree with his life-writer already mentioned, that he excelled in both. Sir John Suckling seems to have been no poet, nor to have had even the most distant appearances of it; his lines are generally so unmusical, that none can read them without grating their ears; being author of several plays, he may indeed be called a dramatist, and consequently comes within our design; but as he is destitute of poetical conceptions, as well as the power of numbers, he has no pretensions to rank among the good poets.

Dryden somewhere calls him a sprightly wit, a courtly writer. In this sense he is what Mr. Dryden stiles him; but then he is no poet, notwithstanding. His letters, which are published along with his plays, are exceeding courtly, his stile easy and genteel, and his thoughts natural; and in reading his letters, one would wonder that the same man, who could write so elegantly in prose, should not better succeed in verse.

After Suckling had made himself acquainted with the constitution of his own country, and taken a survey of the most remarkable things at home, he travelled to digest and enlarge his notions, from a view of other countries, where, says the above-mentioned author, he made a collection of their virtues, without any tincture of their vices and follies, only that some were of opinion he copied the French air too much, which being disagreeable to his father, who was remarkable for his gravity, and, indeed, inconsistent with, the gloominess of the times, he was reproached for it, and it was imputed to him as the effects of his travels; but some were of opinion, that it was more natural than acquired, the easiness of his manner and address being suitable to the openness of his heart, the gaiety, wit and gallantry, which were so conspicuous in him; and he seems to have valued himself upon nothing more than the character of the Courtier and the Fine Gentleman, which he so far attained, that he is allowed to have had the peculiar happiness, of making every thing he did become him. While Suckling was thus assiduous about acquiring the reputation of a finished courtier, and a man of fashion, it is no wonder that he neglected the higher excellencies of genius, for a poet and a beau, never yet were united in one person.

Sir John was not however, so much devoted to the luxury of the court, as to be wholly a stranger to the field. In his travels he made a campaign under the great Gustavus Adolphus, where he was present at three battles and five sieges, besides other skirmishes between Parties; and from such a considerable scene of action, gained as much experience in six months, as otherwise he would have done in as many years.

After his return to England, the Civil War being then raging, he raised a troop of horse for the King's service, entirely at his own charge, so richly and compleatly mounted, that it stood him in 1200 l. but his zeal for his Majesty did not meet with the success it deserved, which very much affected him; and soon after this he was seized with a fever, and died in the 28th year of his age. In which short space he had done enough to procure him the esteem of the politest men who conversed with him; but as he had set out in the world with all the advantages of birth, person, education, and fortune, peoples expectations of him were raised to too great a heighth, which seldom fails to issue in a disappointment. He makes no figure in the history of these times, perhaps from the immaturity of his death, which prevented him from action. This might be one reason for his being neglected in the annals of the civil war: another might be, his unnecessary, or rather ridiculous shew of finery, which he affected in decorating his troop of horse. This could not fail to draw down contempt upon him, for in time of public distress, nothing can be more foolish than to wear the livery of prosperity; and surely an army would have no great reason to put much confidence in the conduct or courage of that general; who in the morning of a Battle should be found in his tent perfuming his hair, or arraying himself in embroidery.

Mr. Lloyd, in his memoirs of our author, observes, that his thoughts were not so loose as his expressions, nor his life so vain as his thoughts; and at the same time makes an allowance for his youth and sanguine complexion; which, says he, a little more time and experience would have corrected. Of this, we have instances in his occasional discourses about religion to my Lord Dorset, to whom he was related; and in his thoughts of the posture of affairs; in both which he has discovered that he could think as coolly, and reason as justly as men of more years, and less fire.

To a Lady that forbad to love before company.

What! no more favours, not a ribbon more, Not fan, nor muff, to hold as heretofore? Must all the little blesses then be left, And what was once love's gift become our theft? May we not look ourselves into a trance, Teach our souls parley at our eyes, not glance, Nor touch the hand, but by soft wringing there, Whisper a love that only yes can hear. Not free a sigh, a sigh that's there for you, Dear must I love you, and not love you too? Be wise, nice fair; for sooner shall they trace, The feather'd choristers from place to place, By prints they make in th' air, and sooner say By what right line, the last star made its way, That fled from heaven to earth, than guess to know, How our loves first did spring, or how they grow.

The above are as smooth lines as could be found among our author's works; but in justice to Suckling, before we give an account of his plays, we shall transcribe one of his letters, when we are persuaded the reader will join in the opinion already given of his works in general; it is addressed to his mistress, and has something in it gay and sprightly.

This verifies the opinion of Mr. Dryden, that love makes a man a rhimster, if not a poet.

My Dear, Dear!

Think I have kissed your letter to nothing, and now know not what to answer; or that now I am answering, I am kissing you to nothing, and know not how to go on! For you must pardon, I must hate all I send you here, because it expresses nothing in respect of what it leaves behind with me. And oh! why should I write then? Why should I not come myself? Those Tyrants, Business, Honour, and Necessity, what have they to do with with you, and me? Why Should we not do Love's Commands before theirs, whose Sovereignty is but usurped upon us? Shall we not smell to Roses, cause others do look on, or gather them because there are Prickles, or something that would hinder us?----Dear----I fain would and know no Hindrance----but what must come from you,----and----why should any come? Since 'tis not I but you must be sensible how much Time we lose, it being long since I was not myself,----but----

"Yours."----

His dramatic works are,

1. Aglaura, presented at a private House in Black Fryars. Langbaine says, 'that it was much prized in his Time; and that the last Act is so altered, that it is at the pleasure of the Actors to make it a Tragedy, or Tragi-Comedy.'

2. Brennoralt, or the Discontented Colonel; a Tragedy, presented at a private House in Black-Fryars by his Majesty's Servants.

3. Sad-one, a Tragedy. This Piece was never finished.

4. Goblings, a Tragi-Comedy, presented at a private House in Black-Fryars, by his Majesty's Servants.

* * * * *

PETER HAUSTED.

This gentleman was born at Oundle in Northamptonshire, and received his education in Queen's-College, Cambridge. After he had taken his degrees, he entered into holy orders, became curate of Uppingham in Rutlandshire; and according to Wood in his Fasti Oxon. was at length made rector of Hadham in Hertfordshire. Upon the breaking out of the civil wars, he was made chaplain to Spencer Earl of Northampton, to whom he adhered in all his engagements for the Royal Interest, and was with him in the castle of Banbury in Oxfordshire, when it was vigorously defended against the Parliament's forces. In that castle Mr. Wood says, he concluded his last moments in the year 1645, and was buried within the precincts of it, or else in the church belonging to Banbury.

This person, whom both Langbaine and Wood account a very ingenious man, and an excellent poet, has written the following pieces:

Rival Friends, a Comedy; acted before the King and Queen when their Majesties paid a Visit to the University of Cambridge, upon the 19th of March, 1631; which Mr. Langbaine thus characterizes. "It was cried down by Boys, Faction, Envy, and confident Ignorance; approved by the Judicious, and exposed to the Public by the Author, printed in 4to. Lond. 1632, and dedicated by a copy of Verses, to the Right Honourable, Right Reverend, Right Worshipful, or whatever he be, shall be, or whom he hereafter may call patron. The Play is commended by a copy of Latin Verses, and two in English. The Prologue is a Dialogue between Venus, Thetis, and Phoebus, sung by two Trebles, and a Base. Venus appearing at a Window above, as risen, calling to Sol, who lay in Thetis lap, at the East side of the Stage, canopy'd with an Azure Curtain. Our Author," continues Langbaine, "seems to be much of the Humour of Ben Johnson, whose greatest Weakness was, that he could not bear Censure, and has so great a Value for Ben's Writings, that his Scene between Loveall, Mungrel, and Hammeshin Act 3. Scene 7, is copied from Ben Johnson's Silent Woman, between True-wit, Daw, and La-fool, Act 4. Scene 5."

2. Ten Sermons preached upon several Sundays, and Saints Days, London 1636, 4to. To which is added an Assize Sermon.

3. Ad Populum, a Lecture to the People, with a Satire against Sedition, Oxon, 1644, in three Sheets in 4to.

This is a Poem, and the Title of it was given by King Charles I. who seeing it in Manuscript, with the Title of a Sermon to the People, he altered it, and caused it to be called a Lecture, being much delighted with it.

This Author also translated into English, Hymnus, Tobaci, &c. Lond. 1651, 8vo.

* * * * *

WILLIAM DRUMMOND of HAWTHORNDEN Esq;

This gentleman was a native of Scotland, and a poet of no inconsiderable rank. We had at first some doubt whether he fell within our design, as being no Englishman, but upon observing that Mr. Langbaine has given a place to the earl of Stirling, a man of much inferior note; and that our author, though a Scotchman, wrote extremely pure and elegant English, and his life, that is fruitful of a great many incidents, without further apology, it is here presented to the reader.

He was born the 13th of November, 1585; his father was Sir John Drummond of Hawthornden, who was Gentleman Usher to King James VI. but did not enjoy that place long, being in three months after he was raised to his new dignity, taken away by death[1]. The family of Drummond in the article of antiquity is inferior to none in Scotland, where that kind of distinction is very much regarded.

The first years of our author's youth were spent at the high school at Edinburgh, where the early promises of that extraordinary genius, which afterwards appeared in him, became very conspicuous. He was in due time sent to the university of Edinburgh, where after the ordinary stay, he was made Master of Arts. When his course at the university was finished, he did not, like the greatest part of giddy students, give over reading, and vainly imagine they have a sufficient stock of learning: he had too much sense thus to deceive himself; he knew that an education at the university is but the ground-work of knowledge, and that unless a man digests what he has there learned, and endeavours to produce it into life with advantage, so many years attendance were but entirely thrown away. Being convinced of this truth, he continued to read the best authors of antiquity, whom he not only retained in his memory, but so digested, that he became quite master of them, and able to make such observations on their genius and writings, as fully shewed that his judgment had been sufficiently exercised in reading them.

In the year 1606 his father sent him into France, he being then only twenty-one years old. He studied at Bourges the civil law, with great diligence and applause, and was master not only of the dictates of the professors, but made also his own observations on them, which occasioned the learned president Lockhart to observe, that if Mr. Drummond had followed the practice, he might have made the best figure of any lawyer in his time; but like all other men of wit, he saw more charms in Euripides, Sophocles, Seneca, and other the illustrious ancients, than in the dry wranglings of the law; as there have been often instances of poets, and men of genius being educated to the law, so here it may not be amiss to observe, that we remember not to have met with one amongst them who continued in that profession, a circumstance not much in its favour, and is a kind of proof, that the professors of it are generally composed of men who are capable of application, but without genius. Mr. Drummond having, as we have already observed, a sovereign contempt for the law, applied himself to the sublimer studies of poetry and history, in both which he became very eminent. Having relinquished all thoughts of the bar, or appearing in public, he retired to his pleasant seat at Hawthornden, and there, by reading the Greek and Latin authors, enriched the world with the product of his solitary hours. After he had recovered a very dangerous fit of sickness, he wrote his Cypress Grove, a piece of excellent prose, both for the fineness of the stile, and the sublimity and piety of the sentiments: In which he represents the vanity and instability of human affairs; teaches a due contempt of the world; proposes consolations against the fear of death, and gives us a view of eternal happiness. Much about this time he wrote the Flowers of Sion in verse. Though the numbers in which these poems are wrote are not now very fashionable, yet the harmony is excellent, and during the reign of King James and Charles I. we have met with no poet who seems to have had a better ear, or felt more intimately the passion he describes. The writer of his life already mentioned, observes, that notwithstanding his close retirement, love stole upon him, and entirely subdued his heart. He needed not to have assigned retirement as a reason why it should seem strange that love grew upon him, for retirement in its own nature is the very parent of love. When a man converses with but few ladies, he is apt to fall in love with her who charms him most; whereas were his attention dissipated, and his affections bewildered by variety, he would be preserved from love by not being able to fix them; which is one reason why we always find people in the country have more enthusiastic notions of love, than those who move in the hurry of life. This beautiful young lady, with whom Mr. Drummond was enamoured, was daughter of Mr. Cunningham of Barnes, of an ancient and honourable family. He made his addresses to her in the true spirit of gallantry, and as he was a gentleman who had seen the world, and consequently was accomplished in the elegancies of life, he was not long in exciting proper returns of passion; he gained her affections, and when the day of the marriage was appointed, and all things ready for its solemnization, she was seized with a fever, and snatched from him, when his imagination had figured those scenes of rapture which naturally fill the mind of a bridegroom. As our author was a poet, he no doubt was capable of forming still a greater ideal fealt, than a man of ordinary genius, and as his mistress was, as Rowe expresses it, 'more than painting can express,' or 'youthful poets fancy when they love,' those who have felt that delicate passion, may be able in some measure to judge of the severity of distress into which our poetical bridegroom was now plunged: After the fervours of sorrow had in some measure subsided, he expressed his grief for her in several letters and poems, and with more passion and sincerity celebrated his dead mistress, than others praise their living ones. This extraordinary shock occasioned by the young lady's death, on whom he doated with such excessive fondness, so affected his spirits, that in order as much as possible to endeavour to forget her, he quitted his retirement, and resided eight years at Paris and Rome; he travelled through Germany, France and Italy, where he visited all the famous universities, conversed with the learned men, and made an excellent collection of the best ancient Greek, and of the modern Spanish, French, and Italian books. Mr. Drummond, though a scholar and a man of genius, did not think it beneath him to improve himself in those gay accomplishments which are so peculiar to the French, and which never fail to set off wit and parts to the best advantage. He studied music, and is reported to have possessed the genteel accomplishment of dancing, to no inconsiderable degree.

After a long stay of eight years abroad, he returned again to his native country, where a civil war was ready to break out. He then found that as he could be of no service by his action, he might at least by his retirement, and during the confusion, he went to the feat of his Brother-in-law, Sir John Scott, of Scotts Tarvat, a man of learning and good sense. In this interval it is supposed he wrote his History of the Five James's, successively Kings of Scotland, which is so excellent a work, whether we consider the exact conduct of the story, the judicious reflections, and the fine language, that no Historian either of the English or Scotch nation (the lord Clarendon excepted) has shewn a happier talent for that species of writing, which tho' it does not demand the highest genius, yet is as difficult to attain, as any other kind of literary excellence. This work was received in England with as much applause, as if it had been written by a countryman of their own, and about English affairs. It was first published six or seven years after the author's death, with a preface, or introduction by Mr. Hall of Grays-Inn, who, tho' not much disposed to think favourably of the Scotch nation, has yet thus done justice to Mr. Drummond; for his manner of writing, says he, "though he treats of things that are rather many than great, and rather troublesome than glorious; yet he has brought so much of the main together, as it may be modestly said, none of that nation has done before him, and for his way of handling it, he has sufficiently made it appear, how conversant he was with the writings of venerable antiquity, and how generously he has emulated them by a happy imitation, for the purity of that language is much above the dialect he wrote in; his descriptions lively and full, his narrations clear and pertinent, his orations eloquent, and fit for the persons who speak, and his reflections solid and mature, so that it cannot be expected that these leaves can be turned over without as much pleasure as profit, especially meeting with so many glories, and trophies of our ancestors." In this history Mr. Drummond has chiefly followed bishop Elphiston, and has given a different turn to things from Buchanan, whom a party of the Scotch accuse of being a pensioner of Queen Elizabeth's, and as he joined interest with the earl of Murray, who wanted to disturb the reign of his much injured sister Mary Queen of Scots, he is strongly suspected of being a party writer, and of having misrepresented the Scotch transactions of old, in order to serve some scheme of policy.

In the short notes which Mr. Drummond has left behind him in his own life, he says, that he was the first in the island that ever celebrated a dead mistress; his poems consist chiefly of Love-Verses, Madrigals, Epigrams, Epitaphs, &c. they were highly esteemed by his contemporaries both for the wit and learning that shone in them. Edward Philips, Milton's nephew, writes a preface to them, and observes, 'that his poems are the effects of genius, the most polite and verdant that ever the Scots nation produced, and says, that if he should affirm, that neither Tasso, Guarini, or any of the most neat and refined spirits of Italy, nor even the choicest of our English poets can challenge any advantage above him, it could not be judged any attribute superior to what he deserves; and for his history he says, had there been nothing else extant of his writings, consider but the language how florid and ornate it is; consider the order and prudent conduct of the story, and you will rank him in the number of the best writers, and compare him even with Thuanus himself: Neither is he less happy in his verse than prose, for here are all those graces met together, that conduce any thing towards the making up a compleat and perfect poet, a decent and becoming majesty, a brave and admirable heighth, and a wit flowing.' Thus far the testimony of Mr. Philips.

In order to divert himself and his friends, he wrote a small poem which he called Polemio-Middinia; 'tis a sort of Macronic poetry, in which the Scots words are put in Latin terminations. In Queen Anne's time it was reprinted at Oxford, with a preface concerning Macronic poetry. It has been often reprinted in Scotland, where it is thought a very humorous performance.

Our author, who we have already seen, suffered so much by the immature fate of his first mistress, thought no more of love for many years after her decease, but seeing by accident one Elizabeth Logan, grandchild to Sir Robert Logan, who by the great resemblance she bore to his first favourite, rekindled again the flame of love; she was beautiful in his eyes because she recalled to his mind the dear image of her he mourned, and by this lucky similarity she captivated him. Though he was near 45 years of age, he married this lady; she bore to him several children; William, who was knighted in Charles II's time; Robert, and Elizabeth, who was married to one Dr. Henderson, a physician, at Edinburgh.

In the time of the public troubles, Mr. Drummond, besides composing his history, wrote several tracts against the measures of the covenanters, and those engaged in the opposition of Charles I. In a piece of his called Irene, he harangues the King, nobility, gentry, clergy and commons, about their mutual mistakes, jealousies and fears; he lays before them the dismal consequences of a civil war, from indisputable arguments, and the histories of past times. The great marquis of Montrose writ a letter to him, desiring him to print this Irene, as the best means to quiet the minds of the distracted people; he likewise sent him a protection, dated August, 1645, immediately after the battle of Kylsyth, with another letter, in which he highly commends Mr. Drummond's learning and loyalty. Besides this work of Irene, he wrote the Load Star, and an Address to the Noblemen, Barons, Gentlemen, &c. who leagued themselves for the defence of the liberties and religion of Scotland, the whole purport of which is, to calm the disturbed minds of the populace, to reason the better sort into loyalty, and to check the growing evils which he saw would be the consequence of their behaviour. Those of his own countrymen, for whom he had the greatest esteem, were Sir William Alexander, afterwards earl of Stirling, Sir Robert Carr, afterwards earl of Ancram, from whom the present marquis of Lothian is descended, Dr. Arthur Johnston, physician to King Charles I. and author of a Latin Paraphrase of the Psalms, and Mr. John Adamson, principal of the college of Edinburgh. He had great intimacy and correspondence with the two famous English poets, Michael Drayton, and Ben Johnson, the latter of whom travelled from London on foot, to see him at his seat at Hawthornden. During the time Ben remained with Mr. Drummond, they often held conversation about poetry and poets, and Mr. Drummond has preserved the heads of what passed between them; and as part of it is very curious, and serves to illustrate the character of Johnson, we have inserted it in his life: though it perhaps was not altogether fair in Mr. Drummond, to commit to writing things that passed over a bottle, and which perhaps were heedlesly advanced. It is certain some of the particulars which Mr. Drummond has preferred, are not much in Ben's favour, and as few people are so wise as not to speak imprudently sometimes, so it is not the part of a man, who invites another to his table, to expose-what may there drop inadvertently; but as Mr. Drummond had only made memorandums, perhaps with no resolution to publish them, he may stand acquitted of part of this charge. It is reported of our author that he was very smart, and witty in his repartees, and had a most excellent talent at extempore versifying, above any poet of his time. In the year 1645, when the plague was raging in Scotland, our author came accidentally to Forfar, but was not allowed to enter any house, or to get lodging in the town, though it was very late; he went two miles further to Kirrimuir, where he was well received, and kindly entertained. Being informed that the towns of Forfar and Kirrimuir had a contest about a piece of ground called the Muirmoss, he wrote a letter to the Provost of Forfar, to be communicated to the town-council in haste: It was imagined this letter came from the Estates, who were then sitting at St. Andrew's; so the Common-Council was called with all expedition, and, the minister sent for to pray for direction and assistance in answering the letter, which was opened in a solemn manner. It contained the following lines,

The Kirrimorians and Forforians met at Muirmoss, The Kirrimorians beat the Forforians back to the cross, [2]Sutors ye are, and sutors ye'll be T----y upon Forfar, Kirrimuir bears the gree.

By this innocent piece of mirth he revenged himself on the town of Forfar. As our author was a great cavalier, and addicted to the King's party, he was forced by the reformers to send men to the army which fought against the King, and his estate lying in three different counties; he had not occasion to send one entire man, but halves, and quarters, and such like fractions, that is, the money levied upon him as his share, did not amount to the maintaining one man, but perhaps half as much, and so on through the several counties, where his estates lay; upon this he wrote the following verses to the King.

Of all these forces, rais'd against the King, 'Tis my strange hap not one whole man to bring, From diverse parishes, yet diverse men, But all in halves, and quarters: great king then, In halves, and quarters, if they come, 'gainst thee, In halves and quarters send them back to me.

Being reputed a malignant, he was extremely harrassed by the prevailing party, and for his verses and discourses frequently summoned before their circular tables. In the short account of his life written by himself, he says, 'that he never endeavoured to advance his fortune, or increase such things as were left him by his parents, as he foresaw the uncertainty and shortness of life, and thought this world's advantages not worth struggling for.' The year 1649, remarkable for the beheading of Charles I. put likewise a period to the life of our author: Upon hearing the dismal news that his Sovereign's blood was shed on a scaffold, he was so overwhelmed with grief, and being worn down with study, he could not overcome the shock, and though we find not that he ever was in arms for the King, yet he may be said, in some sense, to have fallen a sacrifice to his loyalty. He was a man of fine natural endowments, which were cultivated by reading and travelling; he spoke the Italian, Spanish, and French languages as well as his mother tongue; he was a judicious and great historian, a delicate poet, a master of polite erudition, a loyal subject, a friend to his country, and to sum up all, a pious christian.

Before his works are prefixed several copies of verses in his praise, with which we shall not trouble the reader, but conclude the life of this great man, with the following sonnet from his works, as a specimen of the delicacy of his muse.

I know, that all beneath the moon decays, And what by mortals in this world is brought, In times great period shall return to nought; That fairest states have fatal nights and days; I know that all the Muses heavenly lays, With toil of spirit, which are so dearly bought. As idle sounds, of few or none are sought, That there is nothing lighter than vain praise. I know frail beauty like the purple flower, To which one morn, oft birth, and death affords, That love a jarring is, of minds accords, Where sense, and will, bring under reason's power: Know what I lift, all this cannot me move, But, that alas, I both must write and love.

[Footnote 1: The reader will please to observe, that I have taken the most material part, of this account of Mr. Drummond, from a life of him prefixed to a 4to Edition printed at Edinburgh, 1711.]

[Footnote 2: Shoemakers.]

* * * * *

WILLIAM ALEXANDER, Earl of STIRLING.

It is agreed by the antiquaries of Scotland, where this nobleman was born, that his family was originally a branch of the Macdonalds. Alexander Macdonald, their ancestor, obtained from the family of Argyle a grant of the lands of Menstry, in Clackmananshire, where they fixed their residence, and took their sirnames from the Christian name of their predecessor[1]. Our author was born in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, and during the minority of James VI. of Scotland, but on what year cannot be ascertained; he gave early discoveries of a rising genius, and much improved the fine parts he had from nature, by a very polite and extensive education. He first travelled abroad as tutor to the earl of Argyle, and was a considerable time with that nobleman, while they visited foreign countries. After his return, being happy in so great a patron as the earl of Argyle, and finished in all the courtly accomplishments, he was caressed by persons of the first fashion, while he yet moved in the sphere of a private gentleman.

Mr. Alexander having a strong propensity to poetry, he declined entering upon any public employment for some years, and dedicated all his time to the reading of the ancient poets, upon which he formed his taste, and whose various graces he seems to have understood. King James of Scotland, who with but few regal qualities, yet certainly had a propension to literature, and was an encourager of learned men, took Mr. Alexander early into his favour. He accepted the poems our author presented him, with the most condescending marks of esteem, and was so warm in his interest, that in the year 1614, he created him a knight, and by a kind of compulsion, obliged him to accept the place of Master of the Requests[2]; but the King's bounty did not stop here: Our author having settled a colony in Nova Scotia in America, at his own expence, James made him a grant of it, by his Royal Deed, on the 21st of September, 1621, and intended to have erected the order of Baronet, for encouraging and advancing so good a work; but the three last years of that prince's reign being rendered troublesome to him, by reason of the jealousies and commotions which then subsisted in England, he thought fit to suspend the further prosecution of that affair, 'till a more favourable crisis, which he lived not to see.

As soon as King Charles I. ascended the throne, who inherited from his father the warmest affection for his native country, he endeavoured to promote that design, which was likely to produce so great a benefit to the nation, and therefore created Sir William Alexander Lord Lieutenant of New Scotland, and instituted the order of Knight Baronet, for the encouraging, and advancing that colony, and gave him the power of coining small copper money, a privilege which some discontented British subjects complained of with great bitterness; but his Majesty, who had the highest opinion of the integrity and abilities of Sir William, did not on that account withdraw his favour from him, but rather encreased it; for in the year 1626 he made him Secretary of State for Scotch affairs, in place of the earl of Haddington, and a Peer, by the title of Viscount Stirling, and soon after raised him to the dignity of an Earl, by Letters Patent, dated June 14, 1633, upon the solemnity of his Majesty's Coronation at the Palace of Holy-rood-house in Edinburgh. His lordship enjoyed the place of secretary with the most unblemished reputation, for the space of fifteen years, even to his death, which happened on the 12th of February, 1640.

Our author married the daughter of Sir William Erskine, Baronet, cousin german to the earl of Marr, then Regent of Scotland; by her he had one son, who died his Majesty's Resident in Nova Scotia in the life time of his father, and left behind him a son who succeeded his grandfather in the title of earl of Stirling.

His lordship is author of four plays, which he stiles Monarchic Tragedies, viz. The Alexandræan Tragedy, Cræsus, Darius, and Julius Cæsar, all which in the opinion of the ingenious Mr. Coxeter (whose indefatigable industry in collecting materials for this work, which he lived not to publish, has furnished the present Biographers with many circumstances they could not otherwise have known) were written in his lordship's youth, and before he undertook any state employment.

These plays are written upon the model of the ancients, as appears by his introducing the Chorus between the Acts; they are grave and sententious throughout, like the Tragedies of Seneca, and yet the softer and tender passions are sometimes very delicately touched. The author has been very unhappy in the choice of his verse, which is alternate, like the quatrains of the French poet Pibrach, or Sir William Davenant's heroic poem called Gondibert, which kind of verse is certainly unnatural for Tragedy, as it is so much removed from prose, and cannot have that beautiful simplicity, that tender pathos, which is indispensable to the language of tragedy; Mr. Rymer has criticised with great judgment on this error of our author, and shewn the extreme absurdity of writing plays in rhime, notwithstanding the great authority of Dryden can be urged in its defence.

Writing plays upon the model of the ancients, by introducing choruses, can be defended with as little force. It is the nature of a tragedy to warm the heart, rouze the passions, and fire the imagination, which can never be done, while the story goes languidly on. The soul cannot be agitated unless the business of the play rises gradually, the scene be kept busy, and leading characters active: we cannot better illustrate this observation, than by an example.

One of the best poets of the present age, the ingenious Mr. Mason of Cambridge, has not long ago published a Tragedy upon the model of the ancients, called Elfrida; the merit of this piece, as a poem has been confessed by the general reading it has obtained; it is full of beauties; the language is perfectly poetical, the sentiments chaste, and the moral excellent; there is nothing in our tongue can much exceed it in the flowry enchantments of poetry, or the delicate flow of numbers, but while we admire the poet, we pay no regard to the character; no passion is excited, the heart is never moved, nor is the reader's curiosity ever raised to know the event. Want of passion and regard to character, is the error of our present dramatic poets, and it is a true observation made by a gentleman in an occasional prologue, speaking of the wits from Charles II. to our own times, he says,

From bard, to bard, the frigid caution crept, And declamation roared while passion slept.

But to return to our author's plays;

The Alexandræan Tragedy is built upon the differences about the succession, that rose between Alexander's captains after his decease; he has borrowed many thoughts, and translated whole speeches from Seneca, Virgil, &c. In this play his lordship seems to mistake the very essence of the drama, which consists in action, for there is scarce one action performed in view of the audience, but several persons are introduced upon the stage, who relate atchievements done by themselves and others: the two first acts are entirely foreign to the business of the play. Upon the whole it must be allowed that his lordship was a very good historian, for the reader may learn from it a great deal of the affairs of Greece and Rome; for the plot see Quintus Curtius, the thirteenth Book of Justin, Diodorus Siculus, Jofephus, Raleigh's History, &c. The Scene is in Babylon.

Cræsus, a Tragedy; the Scene of this Play is laid in Sardis, and is reckoned the most moving of the four; it is chiefly borrowed from Herodotus, Clio, Justin, Plutarch's Life of Solon, Salian, Torniel. In the fifth Act there is an Episode of Abradates and Panthæa, which the author has taken from Xenophon's Cyropædeia, or The Life and Education of Cyrus, lib. vii. The ingenious Scudery has likewise built upon this foundation, in his diverting Romance called the Grand Cyrus.

Darius, a Tragedy; this was his lordship's first dramatic performance; it was printed at Edinburgh in 4to. in the year 1603; it was first composed of a mixture of English and Scotch dialect, and even then was commended by several copies of verses. The Scene of this Play is laid in Babylon. The author afterwards not only polished his native language, but altered the Play itself; as to the plot consult Q. Curtius, Diodorus Siculus, Justin, Plutarch's Life of Alexander, &c. Julius Cæsar, a Tragedy. In the fifth Act of this Play, my lord brings Brutus, Cassius, Cicero, Anthony, &c. together, after the death of Cæsar, almost in the same circumstances Shakespear has done in his Play of this name; but the difference between the Anthony and Brutus of Shakespear, and these characters drawn by the earl of Stirling, is as great, as the genius of the former transcended the latter. This is the most regular of his lordship's plays in the unity of action. The story of this Play is to be found in all the Roman Histories written since the death of that Emperor.

His lordship has acknowledged the stile of his dramatic works not to be pure, for which in excuse he has pleaded his country, the Scotch dialect then being in a very imperfect state. Having mentioned the Scotch dialect, it will not be improper to observe, that it is at this time much in the same degree of perfection, that the English language was, in the reigns of Henry VIII. and Queen Elizabeth; there are idioms peculiar to the Scotch, which some of their best writers have not been able entirely to forget, and unless they reside in England for some time, they seldom overcome them, and their language is greatly obscured by these means; but the reputation which some Scotch writers at present enjoy, make it sufficiently clear, that they are not much wanting in perspicuity or elegance, of which Mr. Hume, the ingenious author of Essays Moral and Political, is an instance. In the particular quality of fire, which is indispensible in a good writer, the Scotch authors have rather too much of it, and are more apt to be extravagantly animated, than correctly dull.

Besides these Plays, our author wrote several other Poems of a different kind, viz. Doomsday, or the Great Day of the Lord's Judgment, first printed 1614, and a Poem divided into 12 Book, which the author calls Hours; In this Poem is the following emphatic line, when speaking of the divine vengeance falling upon the wicked; he calls it

A weight of wrath, more than ten worlds could bear.

A very ingenious gentleman of Oxford, in a conversation with the author of this Life, took occasion to mention the above line as the best he had ever read consisting of monysyllables, and is indeed one of the most affecting lines to be met with in any poet. This Poem, says Mr. Coxeter, 'in his MS. notes, was reprinted in 1720, by A. Johnston, who in his preface says, that he had the honour of transmitting the author's works to the great Mr. Addison, for the perusal of them, and he was pleased to signify his approbation in these candid terms. That he had read them with the greatest satisfaction, and was pleased to give it as his judgment, that the beauties of our ancient English poets are too slightly passed over by the modern writers, who, out of a peculiar singularity, had rather take pains to find fault, than endeavour to excel.'

A Parænæsis to Prince Henry, who dying before it was published, it was afterwards dedicated to King Charles I.[3]

Jonathan; intended to be an Heroic Poem, but the first Book of it is only extant. He wrote all these Poems in the Ottavo Rima of Tasso, or a Stanza of eight lines, six interwoven, and a Couplet in Base. His Plays and Poems were all printed together in folio, under the title of Recreations with the Muses, 1637, and dedicated to the King.

The earl of Stirling lived in friendship with the most eminent wits of his time, except Ben Johnson, who complained that he was neglected by him; but there are no particulars preserved concerning any quarrel between them.

My lord seems to have often a peculiar inclination to punning, but this was the characteristic vice of the times. That he could sometimes write in a very elegant strain will appear by the following lines, in which he describes love.

Love is a joy, which upon pain depends; A drop of sweet, drowned in a sea of sours: What folly does begin, that fury ends; They hate for ever, who have lov'd for hours.

[Footnote 1: Crawford's Peerage of Scotland.]

[Footnote 2: Crawford, ubi supra.]

[Footnote 3: Langbaire.]

* * * * *

JOSEPH HALL, Bishop of NORWICH.

This prelate was born, according to his own account, July 11, 1574, in Bristow-Park, within the parish of Ashby de la Zouch, a town in Leicestershire.[1] His father was an officer under Henry Earl of Huntingdon, president of the North, who from his infancy had devoted him to the service of the church; and his mother, whom he has celebrated for her exemplary and distinguished piety, was extremely sollicitous that her favourite son would be of a profession, she herself held so much in veneration. Our author, who seems to have been very credulous in his disposition, rather religious than wise, or possessing any attainments equal to the dignity to which he rose, has preserved in his Specialities, some visions of his mother's, which he relates with an air of seriousness, sufficient to evidence his own conviction of their reality; but as they appear to have been the offspring of a disordered imagination, they have no right to a place here.

In order to train him up to the ministry, his father at first resolved to place him under the care of one Mr. Pelset, lately come from Cambridge to be the public preacher at Leicester, who undertook to give him an education equally finished with that of the university, and by these means save much expence to his father: This resolution, however, was not executed, some other friends advising his father to send him to Cambridge, and persuaded him that no private tuition could possibly be equal to that of the academical. When our author had remained six years at Cambridge, he had a right to preferment, and to stand for a fellowship, had not his tutor Mr. Gilby been born in the same county with him, and the statutes not permitting two of the same shire to enjoy fellowships, and as Mr. Gilby was senior to our author, and already in possession, Mr. Hall could not be promoted. In consequence of this, he proposed to remove, when the Earl of Huntingdon, being made acquainted with this circumstance, and hearing very favourable accounts of our author, interested himself to prevent his removal. He made application to Mr. Gilby, promised to make him his chaplain, and promote him in the church, provided he would relinquish his place in the college, in favour of Mr. Hall. These promises being made with seeming sincerity, and as the Earl of Huntingdon was a man of reputation for probity, he complied with his lordship's request, and relinquished his place in the college. When he was about to enter upon his office of chaplain, to his great mortification, the nobleman on whose promises he confided, and on whom he immediately depended, suddenly died, by which accident he was thrown unprovided upon the world. This not a little affected Mr. Hall, who was shocked to think that Mr. Gilby should be thus distressed, by the generosity of his temper, which excited him to quit a certainty in order to make way for his promotion. He addressed Dr. Chadderton, then the master of the college, that the succeeding election might be stopped, and that Mr. Gilby should again possess his place; but in this request he was unsuccessful: for the Doctor told him, that Mr. Gilby was divested of all possibilty of remedy, and that they must proceed in the election the day following; when Mr. Hall was unanimously chosen into that society. Two years after this, he was chosen Rhetorician to the public schools, where, as he himself expresses it, "he was encouraged with a sufficient frequence of auditors;" but this place he soon resigned to Dr. Dod, and entered upon studies necessary to qualify him for taking orders.

Some time after this, the mastership of a famous school erected at Tiverton in Devon, became vacant; this school was endowed by the founder Mr. Blundel, with a very large pension, and the care of it was principally cast upon the then Lord Chief Justice Popham. His lordship being intimately acquainted with Dr. Chadderton, requested him to recommend some learned and prudent man for the government of that school. The Dr. recommended Mr. Hall, assuring him that great advantage would arise from it, without much trouble to himself: Our author thinking proper to accept this, the Doctor carried him to London, and introduced him to Lord Chief Justice Popham, who seemed well pleased and thanked Dr. Chadderton for recommending a man so well qualified for the charge. When Dr. Chadderton and Mr. Hall had taken leave of his lordship and were returning to their lodgings, a messenger presented a letter to Mr. Hall, from lady Drury of Suffolk, earnestly requesting him to accept the rectory of Halsted, a place in her gift. This flow of good fortune not a little surprized him, and as he was governed by the maxims of prudence, he made no long hesitation in accepting the latter, which was both a better benefice, and a higher preferment. Being settled at Halsted, he found there a dangerous antagonist to his ministry, whom he calls in his Specialities, a witty, and a bold Atheist: "This was one Mr. Lilly, who by reason of his travels, (says he) and abilities of discourse and behaviour, had so deeply insinuated himself into my patron, that there were small hopes for me to work any good upon that noble patron of mine; who by the suggestion of this wicked detractor, was set off from me before he knew me. Hereupon, I confess, finding the obduredness, and hopeless condition of that man, I bent my prayers against him, beseeching God daily, that he would be pleased to remove by some means or other, that apparent hindrance of my faithful labours; who gave me an answer accordingly. For this malicious man going hastily up to London, to exasperate my patron against me, was then and there swept away by the pestilence, and never returned to do any further mischief." This account given by Mr. Hall of his antagonist, reflects no great honour upon himself: it is conceived in a spirit of bitterness, and there is more of spite against Lilly's person in it, than any tenderness or pity for his errors. He calls him a witty Atheist, when in all probability, what he terms atheism, was no more than a freedom of thinking, and facetious conversation, which to the pious churchman, had the appearance of denying the existence of God; besides, had Hall dealt candidly, he should have given his readers some more particulars of a man whom he was bold enough to denominate an Atheist, a character so very singular, that it should never be imputed to any man, without the strongest grounds. Hall in his usual spirit of enthusiasm, in order to remove this antagonist of his, has recourse to a miracle: He tells us, he went up to London and died of the Plague, which he would have us to understand was by the immediate interpolition of God, as if it were not ridiculous to suppose our author of so great importance, as that the Supreme Being should work a miracle in his favour; but as it is with natural so is it with spiritual pride, those who are possessed by either, never fail to over-rate their own significance, and justly expose themselves to the contempt of the sober part of mankind.

Our author has also given us some account of his marriage, with the daughter of Mr. George Winniff, of Bretenham; he says of her, that much modesty, piety, and good disposition were lodged in her seemly presence. She was recommended to him, by the Rev. Mr. Grandig his friend, and he says, he listened to the recommendation, as from the Lord, whom he frequently consulted by prayer, before he entered into the matrimonial state. She lived with him 49 years.

Not long after Mr. Hall's settlement at Halsted, he was sollicited by Sir Edmund Bacon to accompany him in a journey to the Spa in Ardenna, at the time when the Earl of Hertford went ambassador to the archduke Albert of Brussels. This request Mr. Hall complied with, as it furnished him with an opportunity of feeing more of the world, and gratified a desire he had of conversing with the Romish Jesuits. The particulars of his journey, which he has preserved in his Specialities, are too trifling to be here inserted: When he came to Brussels, he was introduced by an English gentleman, who practiced physic there, to the acquaintance of father Costrus; who held some conversation with him concerning the miracles said to be lately done, by one Lipsieus Apricollis, a woman who lived at Zichem. From particular miracles, the father turned the discourse to the difference between divine and diabolical miracles; and he told Mr. Hall, that if he could ascertain that one miracle ever was wrought in the church of England, he would embrace that persuasion: To which our author replied, that he was fully convinced, that many devils had been ejected out of persons in that church by fasting and prayer. They both believed the possibility and frequency of miracles; they only differed as to the church in which miracles were performed. Hall has censured father Costrus, as a barren man, and of superficial conversation; and it is to be feared, that whoever reads Hall's religious works will conclude much in the same manner of him. They departed from Brussels soon after this interview between father Costrus and our author, and met with nothing in their journey to and return from the Spa, worth relation, only Mr. Hall had by his zeal in defending his own church, exposed himself to the resentment of one Signior Ascanio Negro, who began notwithstanding Mr. Hall's lay-habit, to suspect him to be a clergyman, and use some indecent freedoms with him in consequence of this suspicion. Our author to avoid any impertinence which the captain was likely to be guilty of towards him, told him, Sir Edmund Bacon, the person with whom he travelled, was the grandchild of the great lord Verulam, High Chancelor of England, whose fame was extended to every country where science and philosophy prevailed, and that they were protected by the earl of Hertford, the English embassador at Brussels. Upon the Italian's being made acquainted with the quality of Sir Edmund, and the high connections of the two travellers, he thought proper to desist from any acts of impertinence, to which bigotry and ignorance would have excited him. Hall returned to England after being absent eighteen months, and was received but coldly by Sir Robert Drury his patron; there having never been much friendship between them. In consequence of this, Mr. Hall came to London, in search of a more comfortable provision; he was soon recommended by one Mr. Gurrey, tutor to the Earl of Essex, to preach before Prince Henry at Richmond. Before this accident Mr. Hall had been author of some Meditations, whom Mr. Gurrey told him, had been well received at Henry's court, and much read by that promising young Prince. He preached with success, for the Prince desired to hear him a second time, and was so well pleased with him, that he signified an inclination of having him attend about his court. Mr. Hall's reputation growing, he was taken notice of by persons of fashion, and soon obtained the living of Waltham, presented him by the Earl of Norwich.

While he exercised his function at Waltham, the archdeacon of Norwich engaged him to interest himself in favour of the church of Wolverhampton, from which a patrimony was detained by a sacrilegious conveyance. In the course of this prosecution, our author observes, "that a marvellous light opened itself unexpectedly, by revealing a counterfeit seal, in the manifestation of razures, and interpolations, and misdates of unjustifiable evidences, that after many years suit, Lord Chancellor Ellesmere, upon a full hearing, gave a decree in favour of the church."

During Mr. Hall's residence at Waltham, he was thrice employed by his Majesty in public service. His first public employment was to attend the Earl of Carlisle, who went on an embassy to France, and during his absence his Majesty conferred upon him the deanery of Worcester. Upon his return, he attended the King in a journey to Scotland, where he exerted himself in support of episcopacy, in opposition to the established ministry there, who were Presbyterians. Having acquired some name in polemical divinity, and being long accustomed to disputations, the King made choice of him to go to the Netherlands, and assist at the synod of Dort, in settling the controverted points of faith, for which that reverend body were there convened. Hall has been very lavish in his own praise, while he acted at the synod of Dort; he has given many hints of the supernatural assistance he was blessed with: he has informed us, that he was then in a languishing state of health; that his rest was broken, and his nights sleepless; but on the night preceding the occasion of his preaching a Latin sermon to the synod, he was favoured with, refreshing sleep, which he ascribes to the immediate care of providence. The states of Holland, he says, "sent Daniel Heinsius the poet to visit him, and were so much delighted with his comportment, that they presented him with a rich medal of gold, as a monument of their respect for his poor endeavours." Upon our author's returning home, he found the church torn to pieces, by the fierce contentions which then subsisted concerning the doctrines of Arminius: he saw this with concern, and was sensible true religion, piety, and virtue, could never be promoted by such altercation; and therefore with the little power of which he was master, he endeavoured to effect a reconciliation between the contending parties: he wrote what he calls a project of pacification, which was presented to his Majesty, and would have had a very happy influence, had not the enemies of Mr. Hall misrepresented the book, and so far influenced the King, that a royal edict for a general inhibition, buried it in silence. Hall after this contended with the Roman Catholics, who upon the prospect of the Spanish match, on the success of which they built their hopes, began to betray a great degree of insolence, and proudly boast the pedigree of their church, from the apostles themselves. They insisted, that as their church was the first, so it was the best, and that no ordination was valid which was not derived from it. Hall in answer to their assertions, made a concession, which some of his Protestant brethren thought he had no right to do; he acknowledged the priority of the Roman Church, but denied its infallibility, and consequently that it was possible another church might be more pure, and approach more to the apostolic practice than the Romish. This controversy he managed so successfully, that he was promoted to the see of Exeter; and as King James I. seldom knew any bounds to his generosity, when he happened to take a person into his favour, he soon after that removed him from Exeter, and gave him the higher bishoprick of Norwich; which he enjoyed not without some allay to his happiness, for the civil wars soon breaking out, he underwent the same severities which were exercised against other prelates, of which he has given an account in a piece prefixed to his works, called, Hall's hard Measure; and from this we shall extract the most material circumstances.

The insolence of some churchmen, and the superiority they assumed in the civil government, during the distractions of Charles I. provoked the House of Commons to take some measures to prevent their growing power, which that pious monarch was too much disposed to favour. In consequence of this, the leading members of the opposition petitioned the King to remove the bishops from their seats in Parliament, and degrade them to the station at Commons, which was warmly opposed by the high church lords, and the bishops themselves, who protested against whatever steps were taken during their restraint from Parliament, as illegal, upon this principle, that as they were part of the legislature, no law could pass during their absence, at least if that absence was produced by violence, which Clarendon has fully represented.

The prejudice against the episcopal government gaining ground, petitions to remove the bishops were poured in from all parts of the kingdom, and as the earl of Strafford was then so obnoxious to the popular resentment, his cause and that of the bishops was reckoned by the vulgar, synonimous, and both felt the resentment of an enraged populace. To such a fury were the common people wrought up, that they came in bodies, to the two Houses of Parliament, to crave justice, both against the earl of Strafford, and the archbishop of Canterbury, and, in short, the whole bench of spiritual Peers; the mob besieged the two Houses, and threatened vengeance upon the bishops, whenever they came out. This fury excited some motion to be made in the House of Peers, to prevent such tumults for the future, which were sent down to the House of Commons. The bishops, for their safety, were obliged to continue in the Parliament House the greatest part of the night, and at last made their escape by bye-ways and stratagems. They were then convinced that it was no longer safe for them to attend the Parliament, 'till some measures were taken to repress the insolence of the mob, and in consequence of this, they met at the house of the archbishop of York, and drew up a protest, against whatever steps should be taken during their absence, occasioned by violence. This protest, the bishops intended should first be given to the Secretary of State, and by him to the King, and that his Majesty should cause it to be read in the House of Peers; but in place of this, the bishops were accused of high treason, brought before the bar of the House of Peers, and sent to the Tower. During their confinement, their enemies in the House of Commons, took occasion to bring in a bill for taking away the votes of bishops in the House of Peers: in this bill lord Falkland concurred, and it was supported by Mr. Hambden and Mr. Pym, the oracles of the House of Commons, but met with great opposition from Edward Hyde, afterwards earl of Clarendon, who was a friend to the church, and could not bear to see their liberties infringed.

The bishops petitioned to have council assigned them, in which they were indulged, in order to answer to the charge of high treason. A day was appointed, the bishops were brought to the bar, but nothing was effected; the House of Commons at last finding that there could be no proof of high treason, dropt that charge, and were content to libel them for a misdemeanor, in which they likewise but ill succeeded, for the bishops were admitted to bail, and no prosecution was carried on against them, even for a misdemeanor.

Being now at liberty, the greatest part of them retired to their dioceses, 'till the storm which had threatened them should subside. Bishop Hall repaired to Norwich, where he met, from the disaffected party, a very cold reception; he continued preaching however in his cathedral at Norwich, 'till the order of sequestration came down, when he was desired to remove from his palace, while the sequestrators seized upon all his estate, both real and personal, and appraized all the goods which were in the palace. The bishop relates the following instance of oppression which was inflicted on him; 'One morning (says his lordship) before my servants were up, there came to my gates one Wright, a London trooper, attended with others requiring entrance, threatening if they were not admitted, to break open the gates, whom, I found at first sight, struggling with one of my servants for a pistol which he had in his hand; I demanded his business at that unseasonable time; he told me he came to search for arms and ammunition, of which I must be disarmed; I told him I had only two muskets in the house, and no other military provision; he not resting upon my word, searched round about the house, looked into the chests and trunks, examined the vessels in the cellar; finding no other warlike furniture, he asked me what horses I had, for his commission was to take them also; I told him how poorly I was stored, and that my age would not allow me to travel on foot; in conclusion, he took one horse away.'

The committee of sequestration soon after proceeded to strip him of all the revenue belonging to his see, and as he refused to take the covenant, the magistrates of the city of Norwich, who were no friends to episcopal jurisdiction, cited him before them, for giving ordination unwarrantably, as they termed it: to this extraordinary summons the bishop answered, that he would not betray the dignity of his station by his personal appearance, to answer any complaints before the Lord Mayor, for as he was a Peer of the realm, no magistrate whatever had a right to take cognizance of his conduct, and that he was only accountable to the House of Lords, of which he was one. The bishop proceeds to enumerate the various insults he received from the enraged populace; sometimes they searched his house for malignants, at other times they threatened violence to his person; nor did their resentment terminate here; they exercised their fury in the cathedral, tore down the altar, broke the organ in pieces, and committed a kind of sacrilegious devastation in the church; they burnt the service books in the market-place, filled the cathedral with musketeers, who behaved in it with as much indecency, as if it had been an alehouse; they forced the bishop out of his palace, and employed that in the same manner. These are the most material hardships which, according to the bishop's own account, happened to him, which he seems to have born with patience and fortitude, and may serve to shew the violence of party rage, and that religion is often made a pretence for committing the most outrageous insolence, and horrid cruelty. It has been already observed, that Hall seems to have been of an enthusiastic turn of mind, which seldom consists with any brilliance of genius; and in this case it holds true, for in his sermons extant, there is an imbecility, which can flow from no other cause than want of parts. In poetry however he seems to have greater power, which will appear when we consider him in that light.

It cannot positively be determined on what year bishop Hall died; he published that work of his called Hard Measure, in the year 1647, at which time he was seventy-three years of age, and in all probability did not long survive it.

His ecclesiastical works are,

A Sermon, preached before King James at Hampton-Court, 1624.

Christian Liberty, set forth in a Sermon at Whitehall, 1628.

Divine Light and Reflections, in a Sermon at Whitehall, 1640.

A Sermon, preached at the Cathedral of Exeter, upon the Pacification between the two Kingdoms, 1641.

The Mischief of Faction, and the Remedy of it, a Sermon, at Whitehall on the second Sunday in Lent, 1641.

A Sermon, preached at the Tower, 1641.

A Sermon, preached on Whitsunday in Norwich, printed 1644.

A Sermon, preached on Whitsunday at Higham, printed 1652.

A Sermon, preached on Easter day at Higham, 1648.

The Mourner in Sion.

A Sermon, preached at Higham, printed 1655.

The Women's Veil, or a Discourse concerning the Necessity or Expedience of the close Covering the Heads of Women.

Holy Decency in the Worship of God.

Good Security, a Discourse of the Christian's Assurance.

A Plain and Familiar Explication of Christ's Presence, in the Sacrament of his Body and Blood.

A Letter for the Observation of the Feast of Christ's Nativity.

A Letter to Mr. William Struthers, one of the Preachers at Edinburgh.

Epistola D. Baltasari Willio. S.T.D.

Epistola D. Lud. Crocio. S.T.D.

Reverendissimo Marco Antonio de L'om. Archiep. Spalatensi.

Epistola decessus sui ad Romam dissuasiva.

A Modest Offer.

Certain Irrefragable Propositions, worthy of serious Consideration.

The Way of Peace in the Five Busy Articles, commonly known by the name of Arminius.

A Letter concerning the Fall Away from Grace.

A Letter concerning Religion.

A Letter concerning the frequent Injection of Temptations.

A Consolatory Letter to one under Censure.

A Short Answer to the Nine Arguments which are brought against the Bishops sitting in Parliament.

For Episcopacy and Liturgy.

A Speech in Parliament.

A Speech in Parliament, in Defence of the Canons made in Convocation.

A Speech in Parliament, concerning the Power of Bishops in secular things.

The Anthems for the Cathedral of Exeter.

All these are printed in 4to, and were published 1660. There are also other Works of this author. An Edition of the whole has been printed in three Vols. folio.

Besides these works, Bishop Hall is author of Satires in Six Books, lately reprinted under the title of Virgidemiarum, of which we cannot give a better account than in the words of the ingenious authors of the Monthly Review, by which Bishop Hall's genius for that kind of poetical writing will fully appear.

He published these Satires in the twenty third year of his age, and was, as he himself asserts in the Prologue, the first satirist in the English language.

I first adventure, follow me who list, And be the second English satyrist.

And, if we consider the difficulty of introducing so nice a poem as satire into a nation, we must allow it required the assistance of no common and ordinary genius. The Italians had their Ariosto, and the French their Regnier, who might have served him as models for imitation; but he copies after the ancients, and chiefly Juvenal and Persius; though he wants not many strokes of elegance and delicacy, which shew him perfectly acquainted with the manner of Horace. Among the several discouragements which attended his attempt in that kind, he mentions one peculiar to the language and nature of the English versification, which would appear in the translation of one of Persius's Satires: The difficulty and dissonance whereof, says he, shall make good my assertion; besides the plain experience thereof in the Satires of Ariosto; save which, and one base French satire, I could never attain the view of any for my direction. Yet we may pay him almost the same compliment which was given of old to Homer and Archilochus: for the improvements which have been made by succeeding poets bear no manner of proportion to the distance of time between him and them. The verses of bishop Hall are in general extremely musical and flowing, and are greatly preferable to Dr. Donne's, as being of a much smoother cadence; neither shall we find him deficient, if compared with his successor, in point of thought and wit; but he exceeds him with respect to his characters, which are more numerous, and wrought up with greater art and strength of colouring. Many of his lines would do honour to the most ingenious of our modern poets; and some of them have thought it worth their labour to imitate him, especially Mr. Oldham. Bishop Hall was not only our first satyrist, but was the first who brought epistolary writing to the view of the public; which was common in that age to other parts of Europe, but not practised in England, till he published his own epistles. It may be proper to take notice, that the Virgidemiarum are not printed with his other writings, and that an account of them is omitted by him, through his extreme modesty, in the Specialities of his Life, prefixed to the third volume of his works in folio.

The author's postscript to his satires is prefixed by the editor in the room of a preface, and without any apparent impropriety. It is not without some signatures of the bishop's good sense and taste; and, making a just allowance for the use of a few obsolete terms, and the puerile custom of that age in making affected repetitions and reiterations of the same word within the compass of a period, it would read like no bad prose at present. He had undoubtedly an excellent ear, and we must conclude he must have succeeded considerably in erotic or pastoral poetry, from the following stanza's, in his Defiance to Envy, which may be considered as an exordium to his poetical writings.

Witnesse, ye muses, how I wilful sung These heady rhimes, withouten second care; And wish'd them worse my guilty thoughts among; The ruder satire should go ragg'd and bare, And shew his rougher and his hairy hide, Tho' mine be smooth, and deck'd in carelesse pride.

Would we but breathe within a wax-bound quill, Pan's seven-fold pipe, some plaintive pastoral; To teach each hollow grove, and shrubby hill, Each murmuring brook, each solitary vale To found our love, and to our song accord, Wearying Echo with one changelesse word.

Or lift us make two striving shepherds sing, With costly wagers for the victory, Under Menalcas judge; while one doth bring A carven bowl well wrought of beechen tree, Praising it by the story; or the frame, Or want of use, or skilful maker's name.

Another layeth a well-marked lamb, Or spotted kid, or some more forward steere, And from the paile doth praise their fertile dam; So do they strive in doubt, in hope, in feare, Awaiting for their trusty empire's doome, Faulted as false by him that's overcome. Whether so me lift my lovely thought to sing, Come dance ye nimble Dryads by my side, Ye gentle wood-nymphs come; and with you bring The willing fawns that mought their music guide. Come nymphs and fawns, that haunts those shady groves, While I report my fortunes or my loves.

The first three books of satires are termed by the author Toothless satires, and the three last Biting satires. He has an animated idea of good poetry, and a just contempt of poetasters in the different species of it. He says of himself, in the first satire.

Nor can I crouch, and writhe my fawning tayle, To some great Patron for my best avayle. Such hunger-starven trencher-poetrie, Or let it never live, or timely die.

He frequently avows his admiration of Spenser, whose cotemporary he was. His first book, consisting of nine satires, appears in a manner entirely levelled at low and abject poetasters. Several satires of the second book reprehend the contempt of the rich, for men of science and genius. We shall transcribe the sixth, being short, and void of all obscurity.

A gentle squire would gladly entertaine Into his house some trencher-chaplaine; Some willing man that might instruct his sons, And that would stand to good conditions. First, that he lie upon the truckle-bed, While his young maister lieth o'er his head. Second, that he do on no default, Ever presume to sit above the salt. Third, that he never change his trencher twise. Fourth, that he use all common courtesies; Sit bare at meales, and one halfe raise and wait. Last, that he never his young maister beat, But he must ask his mother to define, How manie jerkes she would his breech should line. All these observed, he could contented bee, To give five markes and winter liverie.

The seventh and last of this book is a very just and humorous satire against judicial astrology, which was probably in as high credit then, as witchcraft was in the succeeding reign.

The first satire of the third book is a strong contrast of the temperance and simplicity of former ages, with the luxury and effeminacy of his own tines, which a reflecting reader would be apt to think no better than the present. We find the good bishop supposes our ancestors as poorly fed as Virgil's and Horace's rustics. He says, with sufficient energy,

Thy grandsire's words favour'd of thrifty leekes, Or manly garlicke; but thy furnace reekes Hot steams of wine; and can a-loose descrie The drunken draughts of sweet autumnitie.

The second is a short satire on erecting stately monuments to worthless men. The following advice is nobly moral, the subsequent sarcasm just and well expressed.

Thy monument make thou thy living deeds; No other tomb than that true virtue needs. What! had he nought whereby he might be knowne But costly pilements of some curious stone? The matter nature's, and the workman's frame; His purse's cost: where then is Osmond's name? Deserv'dst thou ill? well were thy name and thee, Wert thou inditched in great secrecie.

The third gives an account of a citizen's feast, to which he was invited, as he says,

With hollow words, and [2] overly request.

and whom he disappointed by accepting his invitation at once, and not Maydening it; no insignificant term as he applies it: for, as he says,

Who looks for double biddings to a feast, May dine at home for an importune guest.

After a sumptuous bill of fare, our author compares the great plenty of it to our present notion of a miser's feast--saying,

Come there no more; for so meant all that cost; Never hence take me for thy second host.

The fourth is levelled at Ostentation in devotion, or in dress. The fifth represents the sad plight of a courtier, whose Perewinke, as he terms it, the wind had blown off by unbonnetting in a salute, and exposed his waxen crown or scalp. 'Tis probable this might be about the time of their introduction into dress here. The sixth, which is a fragment, contains a hyperbolical relation of a thirsty foul, called Gullion, who drunk Acheron dry in his passage over it, and grounded Charon's boat, but floated it again, by as liberal a stream of urine. It concludes with the following sarcastical, yet wholesome irony.

Drinke on drie foule, and pledge Sir Gullion: Drinke to all healths, but drink not to thyne owne.

The seventh and last is a humorous description of a famished beau, who had dined only with duke Humfrey, and who was strangely adorned with exotic dress.

To these three satires he adds the following conclusion.

Thus have I writ, in smoother cedar tree, So gentle Satires, penn'd so easily. Henceforth I write in crabbed oak-tree rynde, Search they that mean the secret meaning find. Hold out ye guilty and ye galled hides, And meet my far-fetched stripes with waiting sides.

In his biting satires he breathes still more of the spirit and stile of Juvenal, his third of this book being an imitation of that satirist's eighth, on Family-madness and Pride of Descent; the beginning of which is not translated amiss by our author. The principal object of his fourth satire, Gallio, would correspond with a modern Fribble, but that he supposes him capable of hunting and hawking, which are exercises rather too coarse and indelicate for ours: this may intimate perhaps, that the reign of the great Elizabeth had no character quite so unmanly as our age. In advising him to wed, however, we have no bad portrait of the Petit Maitre.

Hye thee, and give the world yet one dwarfe more, Such as it got when thou thy selfe was bore.

His fifth satire contrasts the extremes of Prodigality and Avarice; and by a few initials, which are skabbarded, it looks as if he had some individuals in view; though he has disclaimed such an intention in his postscript (now the preface) p. 6. lin. 25, &c. His sixth sets out very much like the first satire of Horace's first book, on the Dissatisfaction and Caprice of mankind--Qui fit Mecænas; and, after a just and lively-description of our different pursuits in life, he concludes with the following preference of a college one, which, we find in the Specialities of his life, he was greatly devoted to in his youth. The lines, which are far from inelegant, seem indeed to come from his heart, and make him appear as an exception to that too general human discontent, which was the subject of this satire.

'Mongst all these stirs of discontented strife, Oh let me lead an academick life; To know much, and to think we nothing know; Nothing to have, yet think we have enowe; In skill to want, and wanting seek for more; In weele nor want, nor wish for greater store. Envy, ye monarchs, with your proad excesse, At our low sayle, and our high happinesse.

The last satire of this book is a severe one on the clergy of the church of Rome. He terms it POMH-PYMH, by which we suppose he intended to brand Roma, as the Sink of Superstition. He observes, if Juvenal, whom he calls Aquine's carping spright, were now alive, among other surprising alterations at Rome,

--that he most would gaze and wonder at, Is th' horned mitre, and the bloody hat, The crooked staffe, their coule's strange form and store, Save that he saw the fame in hell before.

The first satire of the fifth book is levelled at Racking Landlords. The following lines are a strong example of the taste of those times for the Punn and Paronomasia.

While freezing Matho, that for one lean fee Won't term each term the term of Hillary, May now, instead of those his simple fees, Get the fee-simples of faire manneries.

The second satire lashes the incongruity of stately buildings and want of hospitality, and naturally reminds us of a pleasant epigram of Martial's on the same occasion, where after describing the magnificence of a villa, he concludes however, there is no room either to sup or lodge in it. It ends with a transition on the contumely with which the parasites are treated at the tables of the great; being a pretty close imitation of Juvenal on the same subject. This satire has also a few skabbarded initials.

In his third, titled, [Greek: KOINA PHIAON], where he reprehends Plato's notion of a political community of all things, are the following lines:

Plato is dead, and dead is his device, Which some thought witty, none thought ever wise: Yet certes Macha is a Platonist To all, they say, save whoso do not list; Because her husband, a far traffick' man, Is a profess'd Peripatician.

His last book and satire, for it consists but of one, is a humorous ironical recantation of his former satires; as the author pretends there can be no just one in such perfect times as his own. The latter part of it alludes to different passages in Juvenal; and he particularly reflects on some poetaster he calls Labeo, whom he had repeatedly lash'd before; and who was not improbably some cotemporary scribler.

Upon the whole, these satires sufficiently evince both the learning and ingenuity of their author. The sense has generally such a sufficient pause, and will admit of such a punctuation at the close of the second line, and the verse is very often as harmonious too, as if it was calculated for a modern ear: tho' the great number of obsolete words retained would incline us to think the editors had not procured any very extraordinary alteration of the original edition, which we have never seen. The present one is nearly printed; and, if it should occasion another, we cannot think but a short glossary at the end of it, or explanations at the bottom of the pages, where the most uncouth and antiquated terms occur, would justly increase the value of it, by adding considerably to the perspicuity of this writer; who, in other respects, seems to have been a learned divine, a conscientious christian, a lover of peace, and well endued with patience; for the exercise of which virtue, the confusions at the latter end of his life, about the time of the death of Charles I. furnished him with frequent opportunities, the account of his own hard measures being dated in May 1647. We have met with no other poetical writings of the bishop's, except three anthems, composed for the use of his cathedral-church; and indeed, it seems as if his continual occupation after his youth, and his troubles in age, were sufficient to suppress any future propensity to satirical poetry: which we may infer from the conclusion of the first satire of his fourth book.

While now my rhimes relish of the ferule still, Some nose-wise pedant saith; whose deep-seen skill Hath three times construed either Flaccus o'er, And thrice rehears'd them in his trivial flore. So let them tax me for my hot blood's rage, Rather than say I doated in my age.

[Footnote 1: Specialities of this bishop's life prefixed to his works.]

[Footnote 2: Slight.]

* * * * *

RICHARD CRASHAW.

Son of an eminent divine named William Crashaw, was educated in grammar learning in Sutton's-Hospital called the Charter-House, near London, and in academical, partly in Pembroke-Hall, of which he was a scholar, and afterwards in Peterhouse, Cambridge, of which he was a fellow, where, as in the former house, he was distinguished for his Latin and English poetry. Afterwards he took the degree of master of arts; but being soon after thrown out of his fellowship, with many others of the University of Cambridge, for denying the Covenant during the time of the rebellion, he was for a time obliged to shift for himself, and struggle against want and oppression. At length being wearied with persecution and poverty, and foreseeing the calamity which threatened and afterwards fell upon his church and country, by the unbounded fury of the Presbyterians, he changed his religion, and went beyond sea, in order to recommend himself to some Popish preferment in Paris; but being a mere scholar was incapable of executing his new plan of a livelihood. Mr. Abraham Cowley hearing of his being there, endeavoured to find him out, which he did, and to his great surprize saw him in a very miserable plight: this happened in the year 1646. This generous bard gave him all the assistance he could, and obtained likewise some relief for him from Henrietta Maria the Queen Dowager, then residing at Paris. Our author receiving letters of recommendation from his Queen, he took a journey into Italy, and by virtue of those letters became a secretary to a Cardinal at Rome, and at length one of the canons or chaplains of the rich church of our lady of Loretto, some miles distant from thence, where he died in 1650.

This conduct of Crashaw can by no means be justified: when a man changes one religion for another, he ought to do it at a time when no motive of interest can well be supposed to have produced it; for it does no honour to religion, nor to the person who becomes a convert, when it is evident, he would not have altered his opinion, had not his party been suffering; and what would have become of the church of England, what of the Protestant religion, what of christianity in general, had the apostles and primitive martyrs, and later champions for truth, meanly abandoned it like Crashaw, because the hand of power was lifted up against it. It is an old observation, that the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church; but Crashaw took care that the church mould reap no benefit by his perseverance. Before he left England he wrote poems, entitled, Steps to the Temple; and Wood says, "That he led his life in St. Mary's church near to Peterhouse, where he lodged under Tertullian's roof of angels; there he made his nest more glad than David's swallow near the house of God, where like a primitive saint he offered more prayers in the night than others usually offer in the day. There he pen'd the poems called Steps to the Temple for Happy Souls to climb to Heaven by. To the said Steps are joined other poems, entitled, The Delights of the Muses, wherein are several Latin poems; which tho' of a more humane mixture, yet are sweet as they are innocent. He hath also written Carmen Deo Nostro, being Hymns and other sacred Poems, addressed to the Countess of Denbigh. He is said to have been master of five languages, besides his mother tongue, viz. Hebrew, Greek, Latin, Italian, and Spanish."

Mr. Crashaw seems to have been a very delicate and chaste writer; his language is pure, his thoughts natural, and his manner of writing tender.

* * * * *

WILLIAM ROWLEY.

An author who lived in the reign of Charles I. and was some time a member of Pembroke-Hall in Cambridge. There are no particulars on record concerning this poet. He was beloved, says Langbaine, by Shakespear, Johnson, and Fletcher, and writ with the former the British Merlin, besides what he joined in writing with poets of the third class, as Heywood, Middleton, Day, and Webster.

The author has six plays in print of his own writing, which are as follows;

1. A New Wonder, a Woman never vext, a Comedy, acted Anno 1632. The Widow's finding her wedding Ring (which she dropt crossing the Thames) in the Belly of a Fish, is taken from the Story of Polycrates, in the Thalia of Herodotus.

2. A Match at Midnight, a Comedy, acted by the Children of the Revels, 1633. Part of the Plot is taken from a Story in the English Rogue, Part the fourth.

3. All's lost by Lust, a Tragedy, acted at the Phoenix in Drury-lane by the Lady Elizabeth's Servants, 1633. This is esteemed a tolerable Play.

4. Shoemaker's a Gentleman, a Comedy, acted at the Red-Bull, 1638. This Play was afterwards revived at the Theatre in Dorset-Garden. Plot from Crispin and Crispianus; or the History of the Gentle Craft.

5. The Witch of Edmonton, a Tragi-Comedy, acted by the Prince's Servants at the Cock-pit in Drury-Lane, 1658. This Play was afterwards acted at Court with Applause.

6. The Birth of Merlin, a Tragi-Comedy, 1662. The Plot from Geofrey of Monmouth. Shakespear assisted in this Play. He joined with Middleton in his Spanish Gypsies, Webster in his Thracian Wonder.

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THOMAS NASH.

A versifier in the reign of King Charles I. was educated in the university of Cambridge, and was designed for holy orders. He was descended from a family in Hertfordshire, and was born at Leostoff in Suffolk. Whether he obtained any preferment in the church, or was honoured with any great man's patronage, is no where determined. It is reasonable to believe the contrary, because good fortune is seldom without the evidence of flattery, or envy, whereas distress and obscurity, are almost inseparable companions. This is further confirmed in some lines vehemently passionate, in a performance of his called Piers Penniless; which to say nothing of the poetry, are a strong picture of rage, and despair, and part of which as they will shew that he was no mean versifier, shall be quoted by way of specimen. In the abovementioned piece of Piers Penniless, or Supplication to the Devil, he had some reflections on the parentage of Dr. Harvey, his father being a rope-maker of Saffron-Walden. This produced contests between the Doctor and him, so that it became a paper war. Amongst other books which Mr. Nash wrote against him, was one entitled, Have with ye, to Saffron Walden; and another called, Four letters confuted. He wrote likewise a poem, called, The White Herring and the Red. He has published two plays, Dido Queen of Carthage, in which he joined with Marloe: and Summers last Will and Testament, a Comedy. Langbaine says, he could never procure a sight of either of these, but as to the play called, See me, and See me not, ascribed to him by Winstanley, he says, it is written by one Drawbridgecourt Belchier, Esq; Thomas Nash had the reputation of a sharp satirist, which talent he exerted with a great deal of acrimony against the Covenanters and Puritans of his time: He likewise wrote a piece called, The Fourfold way to Happiness, in a dialogue between a countryman, citizen, divine, and lawyer, printed in 4to. London, 1633.

In an old poem called the return to Parnassus; or a scourge for Simony, Nash's character is summed up in four lines, which Mrs. Cooper thinks is impartially done.

Let all his faults sleep in his mournful chest, And there for ever with his ashes rest! His stile was witty; tho he had some gall: Something he might have mended----so may all

From his PIERS PENNILESS.

Why is't damnation to despair and die, When life is my true happiness disease? My soul! my soul' thy safety makes me fly The faulty means that might my pain appease, Divines, and dying men may talk of Hell; But, in my heart, her sev'ral torments dwell! Ah! worthless wit to train me to this woe! Deceitful arts, that nourish discontent! Ill thrive the folly that bewitched me so! Vain thoughts adieu, for now I will repent! And yet my wants persuade me to proceed, Since none take pity of a Scholar's need!

Forgive me God, altho' I curse my birth, And ban the air wherein I breath a wretch! Since misery hath daunted all my mirth And I am quite undone, thro' promise breach O friends! no friends! that then ungently frown, When changing fortune casts us headlong down!

Without redress, complains my careless verse, And Midas ears relent not at my moan! In some far land will I my griefs rehearse, 'Mongst them that will be moved when I shall groan! England adieu! the soil that brought me forth! Adieu unkind where still is nothing worth!

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JOHN FORD,

A Gentleman of the Middle-Temple, who wrote in the reign of Charles I. He was a well-wisher to the muses, and a friend and acquaintance of most of the poets of his time. He was not only a partner with Rowley and Decker in the Witch of Edmonton, and with Decker in the Sun's Darling; but wrote likewise himself seven plays, most of which were acted at the Phænix in the Black-Fryars, and may be known by an Anagram instead of his name, generally printed in the title-page, viz,

FIDE HONOR.

His genius was more turned for tragedy than comedy, which occasioned an old poet to write thus of him:

Deep in a dump, John Ford was alone got, With folded arms, and melancholy hat.

These particulars I find in Mr. Langbaine, who gives the following account of his plays;

1. Broken Heart, a Tragedy, acted by the King's Servants at the private House in Black-Fryars, printed in 4to. London 1633, and dedicated to Lord Craven, Baron of Hamstead-Marshal: The Speaker's Names are fitted to their Qualities, and most of them are derived from Greek Etymologies.

2. Fancies Chaste and Noble, a Tragi-Comedy, acted by the Queen's Servants, at the Phoenix in Drury Lane, printed 4to. London 1638, and dedicated to Lord Randel Macdonell, Earl of Antrim, in the Kingdom of Ireland.

3. Ladies Tryal, a Tragi-Comedy, acted by both their Majesties Servants, at the Private House in Drury-Lane, printed 4to. London, 1639.

4. Lover's Melancholy, a Tragi-Comedy, acted at a Private House in Black-Fryars, and publickly at the Globe by the King's Servants, printed 4to. London 1629, and dedicated to the Society of Gray's-Inn. This Play is commended by four of the author's Friends, one of whom writes the following Tetrastich:

'Tis not the language, nor the fore-placed rhimes Of friends, that shall commend to after times The lover's melancholy: It's own worth Without a borrowed praise shall see it forth.

The author, says Langbaine, has imbellished this Play with several fancies from other Writers, which he has appositely brought in, as the Story of the Contention between the Musician and the Nightingale, described in Strada's academical Prolusions, Lib. ii. Prol. 6.

5. Love's Sacrifice, a Tragedy, received generally well, acted by the Queen's Servants, at the Phoenix in Drury-Lane; printed 4to. Lond. 1663. There is a copy of verses prefixed to this Play, written by James Shirley, Esq; a dramatic writer.

6. Perkin Warbeck, a Chronicle History, and strange Truth, acted by the Queen's Servants in Drury-Lane, printed 4to. 1634, and dedicated to William Cavendish, Duke of Newcastle. This Play, as several of the former, is attended with Verses written by four of the Author's friends. The Plot is founded on Truth, and may be read in all the Chronicles of Henry VII.

7. Sun's Darling, a Moral Mask, often presented by their Majesties Servants at the Cock-pit in Drury-Lane, with great Applause, printed in 4to. London 1657, dedicated to the Right Hon. Thomas Wriothesley, Earl of Southampton. This Play was wrote by our author and John Decker, but not published till after their decease. A Copy of Verses written by Mr. John Tateham is the Introduction to the Mask, at the Entry whereof the Reader will find an Explanation of the Design alluding to the Four Seasons of the Year.

8. 'Tis Pity she's a Whore, a Tragedy, printed in 4to. Mr. Langbaine says, that this equals if not exceeds any of our author's performances, and were to be commended did not he paint the incestuous love between Giovanni, and his Sister Annabella, in too beautiful colours. I have not been able to ascertain the year in which this author died; but imagine from circumstances, that it must have been some time before the Restoration, and before the Year 1657, for the Sun's Darling, written between him and Decker was published in 1657, which Mr. Langbaine says, was after their Decease.

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THOMAS MIDDLETON

Lived in the reign of King Charles I. he was cotemporary with Johnson, Fletcher, Maslinger and Rowley, in whose friendship he is said to have shared, and though he fell much short of the two former, yet being joined with them in writing plays, he arrived at some reputation. He joined with Fletcher and Johnson in a play called The Widow, and the highest honour that is known of this poet, is, his being admitted to make a triumvirate with two such great men: he joined with Massinger and Rowley in writing the Old Law; he was likewise assisted by Rowley in writing three plays[1]. We have not been able to find any particulars of this man's life, further than his friendship and connection already mentioned, owing to his obscurity, as he was never considered as a genius, concerning which the world thought themselves interested to preserve any particulars.

His dramatic works are,

1. The Five Gallants, acted at the Black Fryars.

2. Blur, Mr. Constable, or the Spaniard's Night Walk, a Comedy, acted by the Children of St. Paul's School, 1602.

3. The Phænix, a Tragedy, acted by the Children of St. Paul's, and also before his Majesty, 1607; the story is taken from a Spanish Novel, called the Force of Love.

4. The Family of Love, a Comedy, acted by the children of his Majesty's Revels, 1608.

5. The Roaring Girl, or Moll Cutpurse, acted by the Prince's Players, 1611; part of this play was writ by Mr. Decker.

6. A Trick to catch the Old One, a Comedy, acted both at St. Paul's and Black Fryars before their Majesties, with success, 1616.

7. The Triumphs of Love and Antiquity, a Masque, performed at the Confirmation of Sir William Cokain, General of his Majesty's Forces, and Lord Mayor of the city of London, 1619.

8. The Chaste Maid of Cheapside, a pleasant Comedy, acted by the Lady Elizabeth's servants, 1620.

9. The World toss'd at Tennis, a Masque, presented by the Prince's servants, 1620.

10. The Fair Quarrel, a Comedy, acted in the year 1622, Mr. Rowley assisted in the composing this Play.

11. The Inner Temple Masque, a Masque of Heroes, represented by the Gentlemen of the Inner-Temple, 1640.

12. The Changeling, a Tragedy, acted at a private house in Drury Lane, and Salisbury Court, with applause, 1653, Mr. Rowley joined in writing this play; for the plot see the story of Alsemero, and Beatrice Joanna in Reynolds's God's Revenge against Murder.

13. The Old Law, or a New Way to Please You, a Comedy, acted before the King and Queen in Salisbury Court, printed 1656. Massenger and Rowley assisted in this Play.

14. No Wit, No Help like a Woman's, a Comedy, acted in the year 1657.

15. Women, beware Women, a Tragedy, 1657. This Play is founded on a Romance called Hyppolito and Isabella.

16. More Dissemblers besides Women, a Comedy, acted 1657.

17. The Spanish Gypsies, a Comedy, acted with applause, both at the private house in Drury Lane, and Salisbury Court, 1660; in this Play he was assisted by Mr. Rowley. Part of it is borrowed from a Spanish Novel called the Force of Blood, written originally by Cervantes.

18. The Mayor of Queenborough, a Comedy, acted by his Majesty's servants, 1661. For the plot see the Reign of Vartigas, by Stow and Speed.

19. Any Thing for a Quiet Life, acted at the Globe on the Bank Side. This is a game between the Church of England, and that of Rome, wherein the former gains the victory.

20. Michaelmas Term, a Comedy; it is uncertain whether this play was ever acted.

21. A Mad World, my Masters, a Comedy, often acted at a private house in Salisbury Court with applause.

[Footnote 1: Langbaine's Lives of the Poets, p. 370.]

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End of the First VOLUME.